Atlas Military Command Center–
Five Hours Later
The screen flickered to life with a faint hum.
A holographic projection of General James Ironwood materialized above the circular console, his image wavering slightly but unmistakable in its rigid posture and cold authority. The backdrop was the heart of the Atlas military command center—a vast, clinical chamber pulsing with blue light and urgent movement. Soldiers moved in disciplined rhythm, consoles blinked with fresh Grimm reports, and robotic sentries stood silent guard.
Back at Beacon Academy, within a heavily reinforced room buried beneath stone and steel, the tension was nearly suffocating.
Professor Ozpin stood at the center, his posture weary but unbowed. Glynda Goodwitch flanked him, arms crossed and jaw tight. Qrow Branwen leaned back against the wall, eyes dark under his unruly bangs.
Team RWBY and Team JNPR stood to one side, all of them stiff, silent, processing the disaster they'd just witnessed.
And at the far end of the room, away from the others, stood Onyx Thorn—still, silent, a storm waiting to be unleashed.
Ironwood's projected image scanned the war room, his steel-blue eyes instantly narrowing at the haunted looks facing him.
"This doesn't look like a status report," he said, voice edged with unease. "What happened?"
Ozpin exhaled slowly, the weight of centuries pressing against his shoulders.
"James…" He paused, as if the words hurt to speak. "We lost Amber."
Ironwood's entire form stiffened, the line of his jaw locking in place.
"…What?"
Glynda stepped forward, her voice clipped and formal—but beneath it, something trembled.
"The Hound. A highly advanced Grimm. It infiltrated the vault with Hazel and Tyrian. Amber was killed before the transfer could be completed. The Fall Maiden's power… has been taken."
She didn't need to say the name. They all knew.
Cinder.
She has it now.
For a moment, Ironwood didn't move.
Then—
SLAM.
He drove both fists into the metal desk before him, the resounding echo drawing startled glances from officers behind him. The hologram shimmered with the force of his movement.
"DAMN IT!"
The general's voice exploded with fury. His usually icy control shattered.
Beacon had the most robust vault protections in the world. Ozpin had assured him. The very thought that someone—no, that Grimm—had torn through them like paper made Ironwood's blood boil.
"They infiltrated you?" Ironwood spat, furious. "They knew exactly where to strike?! That can't be a coincidence!"
Ozpin nodded grimly. "We believe so. But we don't yet know how they gained that knowledge."
Ironwood's mind raced. It had to be a leak. An informant. Or… worse.
But before he could voice the spiraling thoughts—
A voice cut through the room like a blade.
Onyx Thorn stepped forward.
He was still coated in dried blood and soot. His coat torn at the sleeves. His Aura crackled faintly with residual static, still not fully settled from the brutal encounter.
But it was his eyes that arrested the room—those glowing amethyst irises, alive with a storm of grief, fury, and determination.
"We need to reveal Salem to the world."
Dead silence.
Even the faint hum of machines seemed to quiet.
Everyone turned to him—RWBY, JNPR, Ozpin, Ironwood—all stunned.
Ironwood's gaze sharpened like a drawn blade. "Absolutely not."
Onyx didn't so much as blink. "We don't have a choice anymore."
Ironwood took a step forward in the projection, his voice low, threatening.
"There is always a choice. Telling the world about Salem—about an immortal puppet master controlling the Grimm—will send civilization into a panic spiral. You think riots are bad now? You want to watch the kingdoms burn from fear alone?"
Onyx's hands curled into trembling fists at his sides.
"I'm not saying we tell them about her immortality."
That made Ironwood pause, just slightly.
Ozpin's brow furrowed, watching Onyx closely now.
Onyx took a slow breath, grounding himself. When he spoke again, his voice was softer—but far more dangerous.
"We tell them the truth. That there's something older, deeper, and smarter than the Grimm. Something that has been manipulating our history from the shadows. A war is coming—and this time, it's not just about survival. It's about liberation."
Ironwood shook his head. "People won't understand."
"They don't need to understand everything," Onyx snapped. "They need to prepare. They need to stop thinking Grimm are just mindless beasts. They need to stop trusting shadows."
He took another step forward, Aura flashing faintly in the dim light.
"Ozpin… I know why you've kept this hidden. I know you've spent centuries trying to keep people safe through silence. But it's not working. Salem is ahead of us. She's always ten steps ahead, and now…"
He looked up, his voice shaking.
"We lost the Fall Maiden."
He looked at the others—his family, his friends.
"We lost one of our own. We lost the chance to turn the tide."
He stopped, his voice cracking under the weight of what he was about to say.
"And the Hound…"
Everyone tensed. The image of that abomination—once a person, now a twisted tool of darkness—burned in their minds.
A pale Silver-Eyed Faunus. Once a person. Now corrupted beyond recognition.
"We all saw what it used to be." Onyx's voice dropped to a whisper. "What Salem turned it into."
His fists trembled at his sides. His breath caught.
"Tell me… what happens when she does that to someone we know?"
Silence.
"What happens when it's someone we care about?"
He turned his gaze to Ruby.
"What if it was you?"
Ruby's breath hitched in her throat.
"What if... W-What if it was Hemera?"
Qrow's head snapped up. His body went rigid.
His fingers twitched toward the inside of his coat—but didn't move.
Because he couldn't look away from Onyx.
The boy he'd trained. The boy who had fought beside him. The boy who never complained, never faltered.
The boy who, at an age when most were still learning who they were… had taken in a baby and raised her as his own.
Who read bedtime stories instead of mission briefs. Who carried formula and bottles in the same pack as blades and ammo. Who fought monsters by day—and tucked in his daughter by night.
And now that boy…
Was breaking.
"I couldn't save Amber…" Onyx choked. "I tried. I fought. But I couldn't stop it."
He turned to Ozpin, eyes glassy.
"I'm not asking you anymore." His voice faltered. Then hardened. "I'm begging you. Please… let them know. Let them fight with us. Let them be ready."
"You've seen what Salem does to people," Onyx continued, his voice hoarse, raw from grief and fury. "You know what she turns them into. That wasn't just a monster we fought—it was a soul. A person. Twisted. Torn apart. Rebuilt in her image. And it won't stop with the Hound."
He stepped forward again, voice rising now, not in volume—but in weight.
"So why the hell are we still pretending the world can't handle the truth? What are we waiting for? For a kingdom to fall? For a friend to die?"
He gestured to the teams behind him. To Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, Blake, Yang, and Weiss, who wouldn't meet his eyes. To Ruby—who had.
"We have children training to fight Grimm before they're old enough to vote. Huntsmen giving their lives every day, willingly, blindly, for a cause they don't fully understand. We tell them they're protectors—but we lie about what they're really up against. What right do we have to keep hiding the real enemy?"
His breath hitched again. But his voice only grew clearer.
"We're not protecting them by keeping them in the dark. We're dooming them. And when Salem strikes again—and she will—there won't be enough time left for secrets."
He looked to Ozpin, one last time. The last wall of restraint in his eyes crumbled.
"Please… no more half-truths. No more cryptic warnings. No more gambles with lives you're not the one losing. If there's even a chance to prepare them—to give the world a fighting chance—we have to take it. Not tomorrow. Not after another tragedy. Now."
The room was frozen in time.
Ozpin said nothing. His eyes searched Onyx's face, seeing the exhaustion, the cracks in the armor.
Then—
"…Ozpin."
Qrow's gravelly voice broke the stillness.
All eyes shifted to him.
He sighed, rubbing a calloused hand over his face.
"He's right."
Ironwood blinked. "Qrow—"
"No. Listen." Qrow stood straighter, his expression grim. "We've been playing defense for too long. I've been part of this secret war most of my life. And all it's done is keep people blind. We've lost too much already."
He gestured toward Onyx.
"He's a kid. A kid carrying more than any of us ever did. If he says the world's ready to fight back, then maybe it's time we listened."
Ozpin looked down, brow creased in thought.
He closed his eyes. Listened to the silence. The pain. The growing chorus of fear—and courage.
When he opened them—
They were resolute.
"…Very well."
The words echoed like cannon fire.
Glynda's eyes widened. "Ozpin—"
"I will do it," he interrupted. "We will do it. The world has earned the truth."
Ironwood actually took a step back.
"…You can't be serious."
"I am," Ozpin said. "It's time we stopped pretending we can shoulder this alone."
He turned to Onyx.
"In all my lifetimes… I've carried secrets like shields. But now, I see they've become chains. And you, Onyx… you were right to break them."
Onyx didn't speak.
But Ruby stepped forward, gently reaching for his hand. She squeezed it, grounding him, pulling him back from the edge.
He didn't return the squeeze—but he didn't let go either.
Ozpin turned to Ironwood.
"James. Begin preparations. We go public."
Ironwood stared long and hard.
"…Understood."
The feed cut.
And just like that—
The truth was coming.
And the world was about to change.
---
Vale – Beacon Academy Courtyard, Live Broadcast to All Kingdoms, 2 days Later,
The air was thick with tension.
A massive holographic projection displayed Ozpin's face across Vale, Atlas, Mistral, and Vacuo. Every kingdom—every settlement with a working CCT relay—was tuned in. Millions were watching.
Standing behind Ozpin was General Ironwood, Glynda Goodwitch, Qrow Branwen, and Onyx Thorn.
Onyx stood motionless, his amethyst eyes staring at the camera, unreadable. Ruby stood beside him, her silver eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness, determination, and fear.
Ozpin exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Then—
"People of Remnant."
His voice carried across the airwaves, clear and unwavering.
"For centuries, we have told stories—fairy tales. Tales of great heroes and terrifying monsters. Tales of magic, of light and darkness. Some were meant to inspire, others to frighten. But all were thought to be just that... tales."
He looked into the camera, his expression solemn.
"I am here to tell you today that some of those tales... are true."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. People watching in their homes, in the streets, in academies and taverns across the world—all froze.
Ozpin continued.
"Many of you know the story of The Girl in the Tower—a lonely maiden, trapped away from the world. And the tale of The White Witch in the Woods, a being of great power who commands the Grimm. These are not separate stories. They are one."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"The girl and the witch are the same person."
Shock rippled through the listeners.
"Her name… is Salem."
Silence.
A name never before spoken in public.
A name that now sent shivers through every soul listening.
Ozpin's eyes darkened.
"She is the true leader of the Grimm. A force that has existed in the shadows, manipulating events across history. For years, she has sought to plunge our world into chaos. And now… she is making her move."
Before panic could take hold, Ozpin continued.
"But she is not the only one who wields power."
Behind him, Glynda, Qrow, and Ironwood stood resolute.
"There are four among us—four powerful women, gifted with incredible magic. You know them as legend—the Four Maidens. But they are real."
Images appeared on the holographic display—illustrations of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter.
"These Maidens are bound to the seasons, their abilities passed from one to another. For centuries, they have acted as silent guardians of Remnant. And now, they are at the center of this war."
He took a deep breath.
"The Fall Maiden, Amber, was recently slain by Salem's forces. Her power has now fallen into the hands of her agents."
Gasping. Outrage. People were struggling to process it all.
"But the Maidens are not the only truth hidden within these stories. There is another tale—one even older."
The holographic screen changed—displaying two celestial beings, one golden and radiant, the other dark and foreboding.
Gasps echoed across the world.
"The legend of the Two Brothers—the Gods of Light and Darkness—is not just a myth."
More murmurs. Disbelief. Some stared in shock, others clutched their heads, struggling to process the revelation.
"The Brothers were real. They shaped our world. One brought creation—light, wisdom, and order. The other destruction—darkness, ruin, and chaos. And when humanity was deemed unworthy, they left Remnant… but not before leaving behind something else."
The screen shifted.
Four glowing artifacts appeared—each pulsing with power.
"The Relics."
"There are four Relics—each tied to a great power gifted by the gods."
The Relic of Knowledge.
The Relic of Creation.
The Relic of Destruction.
The Relic of Choice.
"These Artifacts of immense power. They represent the four ideals that the Brothers given to humanity."
The display shifted—four radiant symbols appeared in the air behind Ozpin, glowing faintly.
"Each Relic is hidden within one of the Huntsman Academies. Locked away, and only accessible with the power of a Maiden. Each Maiden is the key to one of the four."
He turned, looking directly into the camera.
"Fall for Choice.
Winter for Creation.
Spring for Knowledge.
Summer for Destruction."
"And Salem… seeks them."
A heavy dread settled over the world.
"If she gathers them all, she will summon the Brothers back to Remnant. And when they return… they will judge humanity once more."
The implication was clear.
If they were found unworthy…
Humanity—humen and faunus—would be destroyed.
Ozpin's gaze hardened.
"We have always fought the Grimm. But now, we must prepare for something greater."
"Salem is not a myth. The war against her is real. And every kingdom must stand together if we are to survive."
The holographic screen shifted—displaying Cinder Fall's face.
"This woman—Cinder Fall—is one of Salem's agents. She now wields the power of the Fall Maiden. She is dangerous, and she will strike again. We must be ready."
Ozpin's voice was unwavering.
"I know this is difficult to accept. I know many of you are afraid. But fear will not save us. We must stand as one."
He turned toward the camera, his green eyes meeting the world.
"We are not just fighting the Grimm. We are fighting for our future."
The broadcast ended.
And for a moment—silence.
Then—
The world erupted.
In Vale
The people in the streets whispered, then shouted. Some were afraid. Others were angry.
In Atlas
Ironwood's forces were already mobilizing, preparing for the inevitable political backlash.
In Mistral
Hushed voices in the back alleys of the kingdom plotted.
In Vacuo
The news spread like wildfire. The independent kingdom, known for its survivalist mindset, immediately prepared for war.
At Beacon
Inside the room, silence reigned.
Onyx stood still.
His hands were clenched.
Then—
"It's done." Ozpin exhaled.
Glynda sat down, rubbing her temples.
Qrow reached for his flask—but didn't drink. Instead, he muttered, "Now we see what happens next."
Ruby looked at Onyx, worried.
He hadn't moved.
Then—slowly—he closed his eyes.
And whispered.
"…This is only the beginning."