Beacon Academy – Ozpin's Office
Rain streaked down the tall windows of Ozpin's office, turning Vale into a blur of gray beyond the glass. The room was dim, lit only by the desk lamp casting long shadows across shelves of ancient books and relics older than kingdoms.
Ozpin stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the city as if he could feel the weight of every frightened soul below.
"Ever since we revealed Salem's existence to the public," he said quietly, "Grimm attacks have become more frequent… and more coordinated. Larger swarms. Smarter movements."
Glynda adjusted her glasses, her jaw tight. "The panic is feeding them. Fear always does—but this is different. It feels… directed."
Qrow leaned against the wall, arms crossed, flask untouched at his side. "Yeah. Well maybe because we finally changed the rules." His crimson eyes hardened. "So Salem followed."
The silence that followed was broken only by the ticking of the clock.
Then Ironwood stepped forward.
"There's another variable we need to discuss."
Everyone turned to him.
"Onyx Thorn."
Qrow's head snapped up instantly. "What about him?"
Ironwood's voice was measured, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable. "He's saved lives. He's helped us reclaim territory we thought lost forever. I won't deny that." He paused. "But I can't ignore what happens if he turns."
The air in the room thickened.
"What if he's controlled? Manipulated? Broken?"
Qrow pushed off the wall, eyes flashing. "That's my apprentice you're talking about."
Ironwood didn't flinch. "And he wields power that rivals the greatest weapons humanity has ever known. Don't laugh this off, Qrow. His Amethyst Eyes are a danger to us."
"A danger?" Qrow scoffed. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Is it?" Ironwood shot back, voice rising. "Think about it! He can summon Grimm to overwhelm through sheer numbers and coordination. Dragon Blasters that tear through walls and military-grade fortifications. And Grimmification—turning our own structures, our own weapons, into monsters!"
Glynda inhaled sharply. Ozpin remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Ironwood took another step forward, fists clenched. "And we're not talking about a theory here. We all know what he was before Beacon. Before he ever wore a professor's coat."
Qrow's jaw tightened immediately.
"The Ghost," Ironwood said, the name cutting through the room like a blade. "The phantom that dismantled entire White Fang cells for years. The boy who didn't just stop raids—he erased operations. Crippled leadership chains. Left camps in ruins with no witnesses left standing except the broken."
Qrow's eyes burned. "You're dredging up the past!"
"The past is exactly what I'm analyzing," Ironwood replied coldly. "He spent four years operating alone, outside any chain of command, with no oversight, no restraint beyond his own conscience. You call that heroism. I call it precedent."
Glynda's fingers curled against her clipboard. "James…"
"He wasn't just stopping criminals," Ironwood pressed. "He was running a one-man shadow war. And he was effective. Terrifyingly so."
"If he could dismantle an extremist organization at twelve with nothing but shadows, Grimm, and willpower—what makes you think he couldn't do the same to a kingdom?"
Qrow's voice came out hoarse. "Because I raised him."
Ironwood shook his head. "You trained him. That's not the same thing."
The words landed like a physical blow.
"What happens," Ironwood continued, eyes burning, "if Salem gets inside his head? You think she won't try to twist the same instincts that made him the Ghost? The same desperation that drove him to hunt people in the dark to protect a child on his back?"
He let the words sink in before finishing.
"What happens if he starts hunting us?"
The room felt smaller.
"What happens," Ironwood added, quieter now, more lethal for it, "if he eliminated Miss Rose?"
The room exploded.
"You shut your mouth!!!"
Qrow surged forward, slamming a fist onto Ozpin's desk, wood cracking under the force. His voice trembled with fury. "Onyx would rather die than hurt Ruby! You don't know him like I do!"
Ironwood met his glare head-on. "That may be true," he said firmly. "But Ruby Rose—and Onyx's adopted daughter, Hemera Thorn—are the only known Silver Eyes warriors we have."
The words landed like a death sentence.
Even Glynda looked shaken now.
Ironwood lowered his voice, but the intensity only sharpened. "If Salem neutralizes them… humanity loses its greatest weapons against the Grimm."
Qrow's hands shook at his sides. "They're not weapons," he growled. "They're kids."
"And Onyx was a kid when he became the Ghost," Ironwood replied quietly. "That didn't stop him from becoming something the White Fang still whispers about in fear. You think Salem doesn't know that legend? You think she won't try to turn the monster hunter into the ultimate monster?"
Silence swallowed the room.
Rain drummed harder against the windows, like the world itself pressing in.
Ozpin finally turned from the window.
"James is right."
The words hit the room like a dropped glass.
Qrow stiffened. "What!?"
Glynda's eyes widened, her hand tightening on her clipboard.
Ozpin raised a hand before anyone could explode. "Not the part about Onyx turning on us," he said calmly. "I know his heart is in the right place."
He stepped back toward the desk, voice quiet but heavy with consequence.
"But James is right about the rest. Given the nature of his abilities, the Amethyst Eyes might actually be a counter to humanity in the same way the Silver Eyes are to the Grimm, and Salem will go after Onyx — to recruit him, to control him, to experiment on him. And if that fails…"
Ozpin's gaze settled on Qrow.
"Then she will go the same route she always does with Silver Eyes. Eliminate him."
No one spoke.
"The Amethyst Eyes," Ozpin continued, "are too useful for her to ignore. If she succeeds, she will have a fearsome commander who can revive Grimm and bend them to his will. The Firepower capable of breaking the walls of kingdoms. The ability to corrupt inorganic matter into Grimm constructs."
His voice didn't rise, didn't dramatize. It didn't need to.
"To Salem, he is either a weapon to claim… or a problem to erase."
Qrow exhaled sharply through his teeth. "Yeah, well — Onyx won't go down without a fight."
Ironwood's expression didn't change, but his attention sharpened.
"If Salem sends an army of Grimm," Qrow went on, "Onyx will send out his own and make her monsters his. If she sends Cinder, Tyrian, or Hazel again—" He gave a humorless huff. "They're gonna have a bad time. Because Onyx is going to blast them to kingdom come."
---
Beacon Academy – Onyx and Hemera's Dorm Room
The dorm had been converted into a battlefield of pillows, blankets, and beanbags. Popcorn bowls sat on every flat surface like offerings to the god of movie night. The lights were dimmed. The mood was festive. The argument was not.
"We are not watching another old black-and-white documentary about Dust manufacturing," Yang said, jabbing the remote at Weiss.
"It's educational," Weiss snapped back. "Unlike whatever brain-rot Ruby keeps suggesting."
Ruby was already halfway inside a sleeping bag cocoon. "It builds character. Also explosions. Probably."
Blake, nose buried in a book she wasn't actually reading, muttered, "I don't care as long as nobody sings."
"Hey!" Yang protested. "Musicals are—"
The door burst open before that sentence could become a war crime.
Jaune staggered in under the weight of three grocery bags. "Snack delivery!"
Nora vaulted in behind him, already tearing open candy wrappers. "I got the ones with the tiny marshmallows in them! And the ones shaped like animals! And the ones that are just… sugar pretending to be food!"
Ren followed more calmly, carrying drinks, while Pyrrha closed the door behind them, smiling politely. "We thought you might need reinforcements."
From atop a mountain of pillows, Hemera raised her little hands. "I already picked the movie."
Every head turned.
Ruby blinked. "You did?"
Hemera nodded proudly. "Uh-huh!"
There was a beat of silence.
Weiss relaxed. "Well, it's probably some adorable cartoon. Fine by me."
Yang flopped onto the couch. "Yeah, I can survive two hours of singing bunnies."
They all settled in. Lights off. Blankets up. Candy everywhere.
The title card appeared.
CANDY LAND
Ruby squinted. "That doesn't sound too bad."
The door creaked open again.
Onyx stepped in with two cups of tea, took one look at the screen—
—and went white.
"No. Wait. No no no—" He lunged forward. "HEMERA—WAIT—!!!"
He tripped over a beanbag, flailed like a man being actively murdered by furniture, and somehow slammed face-first into the control panel mounted under the TV.
The screen froze.
A red icon appeared.
PARENTAL LOCK: DISABLED UNTIL FEATURE COMPLETION
Onyx lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
"…Qrow's bad luck finally rubbed off on me," he whispered. "And who designs a system like that?"
---
Two hours later.
Weiss was on her knees over a bucket, violently reconsidering every life choice she'd ever made.
Ruby is rocking back and forth in the corner, as Onyx gently patted her head like she was a traumatized housecat.
Blake lay flat on her back, eyes wide, unblinking, staring at the ceiling fan as though hoping it would erase her memory.
Yang was curled into a blanket burrito, ugly crying.
Jaune was unconscious on the floor, a red mark on his forehead where he had punched himself halfway through the movie in a desperate attempt to escape.
Pyrrha was hiding behind the couch. "Is it over yet?"
Nora hyperventilated into a paper bag. "I! INHALE CAN! EXHALE NEVER! INHALE LOOK! EXHALE AT! INHALE CANDY! EXHALE AGAIN!! EVER!!!"
Ren was completely still, seated upright, his soul clearly no longer attached to his body.
Hemera sat in the middle of the room with her juice box, legs swinging happily.
She blinked at the wreckage of teenagers. "It was a bit slow on the action."
The room turned toward her in unified horror.
HOW!
Ruby croaked, "H-how are you not scared?"
Hemera shrugged. "It's not even real."
Onyx pressed a hand over his face. "I tried to stop this."
Ruby looked up at him, eyes haunted. "How are you not affected?"
Onyx stared into the distance, eyes empty, soul elsewhere.
"Because Qrow and I made that same mistake," he said flatly.
A pause.
"…Thrice."