The Atlas flagship was descending lower and lower. You couldn't even tell it was falling; from the ground, the process just looked like the already enormous vessel was getting bigger. Even calculating the approximate distance to it was problematic, because the flagship just kept infinitely expanding. Like a moon falling on them, which would keep widening until it covered the entire sky, and only then would the collision happen.
Luckily for them, the vessel had set a course for the former Emerald Forest. Such a massive and inert thing would surely leave a distinct imprint on the landscape there, which would definitely later be named the "James Ironwood Crater."
Egrer chuckled. His mind was occupied with just about anything to abstract himself from all this nightmare. Around him, chaos was unfolding in the most terrifying sense of the word.
While the flagship was leisurely making its emergency landing, the bell for history class managed to ring, and the rioters strung up another pair of soldiers on the lampposts. Someone was even filming it on camera. The captive Atlesians had long since stopped begging for mercy or even crying - they were just quietly praying.
A couple of vandals had tagged a Hunter statue nearby. The once-great warrior had acquired crossed goofy eyes, a mustache, and a sticking-out tongue. On his chest, they wrote "Irondick" and drew a long arrow right down to his groin, where they nailed the sword torn off from this very same statue. The sword, by the way, was first shortened to just the hilt, and the torn-off blade was shoved right up his ass.
From time to time, someone fired into the air, so the smell of spent Dust lingered in the area, and ears were ringing.
"You monsters!" yelled Fill Chuckler, running up to them. "I'll have you scrubbing toilets for the rest of your lives! Stop this right now, you idiots!"
"Well, look at that," Cardin started. "Monarchists have entered our glorious corner of anarchy. Lark, what do we do with counter-revolutionaries?"
"We execute them!" with those words, eggs started flying at the Janitor.
Maybe Egrer should have intervened and brought at least a little order to this chaos, but the leader of the uprising wasn't sure the rest would simply accept being deprived of their fun. And the fact that in a straight fight practically everyone here was capable of beating the crap out of Egrer further dissuaded him from the idea of doing anything.
And things got ten times worse when the boarding party whose Bullheads were disabled right at takeoff joined the rioters. Their unsatisfied thirst for chaos spilled over into even more pogroms and madness - one psycho even dared to head for the Headmaster's tower with a spray paint can, but he was immediately dragged back by his saner comrades.
However, it was the stupidest ones engaging in all the atrocities. The more conscious rioters took up useful tasks - setting up a tent camp and organizing a field kitchen (whose task included constant raids on the Beacon kitchen). Unsurprisingly, it was Weiss who spearheaded these preparations. She clearly had no intention of leaving until they got Blake back, so she decided to make herself useful. She was helped, surprisingly, by Sun, who was now more than making up for all the time he'd been useless.
Egrer, meanwhile, sat under the statue of Irondick and wondered how his life had come to this. Very recently, literally yesterday, he had hoped to get an army of crazy fanatics, and he got it. But what to do with it now, he had absolutely no clue. His blank gaze slowly swept over the chaos and madness unfolding around him, while thoughts sluggishly swarmed in his head.
Songs were circulating through the budding tent city.
"Beat the bourgeois without looking back!
Bloodsuckers, screw 'em all!
And with no motive!.. destroy it all.
Incite the youth to start a riot
And let the chaos reign!.. while you set it on fire."
Four upperclassmen sat around a large bonfire and sang a not-very-coherent song, playing on improvised musical instruments. One was clacking spoons, another was beating on a crate, and the third and fourth had adapted their weapons to extract musical sounds.
"Give your soul to the struggle without a trace,
Don't wait for the end of the world to commence!
Anarchy is the mother of order!
Chaos is order's father!"[1]
"Eg." A familiar voice pulled him out of his thoughtfulness, but not out of his depression.
"Hey, Ruby. Are you by any chance familiar with the international convention on the rights of prisoners of war? Sure, no one has used it for almost a hundred years, but maybe?"
"U-u-uh... No?"
"Weiss doesn't know either... I was so surprised when I realized that even she doesn't know everything. Wanna throw darts at the prisoners?"
"What?" Ruby was horrified. "No!"
"Me neither. But they," Egrer pointed a finger at three upperclassmen who had hung a target on one of the Atlesians, "really want to. But at least they took magnetic darts. Tell me, does that violate the convention?"
"Are you... okay?"
Egrer turned his head in her direction, and she was able to behold in his eyes the full depth of the hopelessness and despair in which he found himself.
"I'm leading a spontaneous uprising of a mob of undisciplined supersoldiers with years of combat training and a ton of the most diverse weaponry, while I myself only finished four grades of regular school and know how to fight with a needle. A needle! Of course I'm okay, thanks for worrying about me."
Ruby looked embarrassed.
"Why I came over... the Headmaster is calling you in for negotiations."
"Negotiations?" Egrer uttered in a lost tone. "With me?"
"Well, you're the one in charge here, right?"
"I'm only nominally in charge, really we've got anarchy. These crazy people just think it's proper for the General Secretary of the union to lead the revolution. So I'm just here for decoration."
"Comrade General Secretary!" a tall upperclassman with a halberd ran up to him. "The Valkyrie combat squad failed the assault. They fled the ship - just jumped down! What are your orders regarding these opportunists, revisionists, and deserters?"
"Watch this," he told Ruby, then turned to the tall guy. "Pardon and forgive."
"Nah, let's hang 'em for cowardice. People, fetch the ropes!"
"See? They ignore whatever they don't like. But if you say something that a 'Real' revolution leader is supposed to say..." Egrer addressed the tall guy again. "Better organize a penal battalion out of the fugitives. We'll send them to the front line of the assault if the Headmaster doesn't agree to our terms."
"Our boss has got brains! People, you heard him!"
Everyone immediately set about carrying out the order.
"See?" Egrer asked again. "They're the ones in charge here. I'm just..."
"My condolences..."
"Thanks." He stood up and sighed heavily. "Alright, negotiations it is. I just need to give a speech before I leave, or else these idiots will actually launch an assault while I'm gone."
He climbed onto the statue of Irondick and brought the megaphone close to his mouth.
"Comrades!" The chaos in the camp lessened slightly, most pricking up their ears. "Our efforts were not in vain! The Headmaster is ready to hear us out!"
The crowd roared and started firing into the air.
"I am heading to negotiations immediately! By tonight, Blake will be free!" In the whole sea of heads, only a few yelled "Hooray," while the rest began to exchange puzzled glances. They had managed to forget what they were actually fighting for, so Egrer had to rephrase his last sentence. "By tonight, Atlas will be punished!"
The general jubilation knew no bounds. Hats, axes, and grenades flew into the sky, and the air was once again filled with the smell of Dust. Passing through the frenzied crowd, practically every Beacon student clapped Egrer on the shoulder. By the time he crossed the threshold and entered the first floor of the tower, his bones ached.
Anarchy hadn't reached here yet; the foyer looked completely untouched and empty. Which wasn't surprising, since acts of vandalism in the tower of the Headmaster—who is, for a second, the strongest Hunter in the world—wasn't something the average marginalized student wanted to get involved in. That would be going too far.
"Eg, wait!" Weiss caught up to him, having barely managed to squeeze through the crush. Sun was walking next to her. "No matter what he tells you, under no circumstances agree to compromises! Blake's freedom and a promise of her immunity going forward - that's what you need to achieve at the negotiations. Ozpin doesn't like what's happening, and he clearly wants to quietly sweep it all under the rug."
"Yeah, exactly!" Sun nodded. "She's talking sense! Let them release Blake, period."
"Weiss, can you go instead of me?" Egrer asked desperately. All his feigned resilience and calmness had been washed away like water. He slouched and sniffled. "You're the SSGS - the Secretary to the Secretary of the General Secretary! The third most important person in Enversion. And factually, the very first! I don't wanna go to the Headmaster!"
"I gladly would, but I still have a lot of work here, and there's no one to shift it onto. You are a big boy now, perfectly capable of attending diplomatic receptions alone. I pulled off much harder things when I was twelve."
"You're you, and I'm me!"
"I believe in you." Weiss placed a hand on his shoulder, turned him one hundred and eighty degrees, and nudged him toward the elevator. "Sun believes in you too. Right, Sun?"
"Y-yeah! Of course."
"Gods, save me..."
***
'Tick-tock, tick-tock.'
Egrer was sweating. Egrer was smiling nervously. Egrer was shaking. Egrer was anxious. Egrer was so wound up that he could feel the vibrations of the massive gears in this tower, and the ticking of the giant clock echoed inside his skull.
In front of him sat Headmaster Ozpin. A great man, the strongest Hunter in the world. Wise beyond his years, and just as gray-haired beyond his years. A genius pretending to be a madman, or a madman pretending to be a genius pretending to be a madman. It's unlikely anyone was meant to understand which version was true.
'Tick-tock, tick-tock.'
Also lying on the desk was a small flat disc - a holoprojector, from the center of which beamed rays of bluish light. They refracted in a certain way, getting brighter or darker, which created a sense of volume for the miniature, waist-up projection of General James Ironwood. Even though he was small, no more than thirty centimeters tall, the threat emanating from him was far from tiny. After all, he was not only the general of the army of the most militarized state in the world - Atlas, but also the headmaster of the academy of the same name.
These people were at the very least in the top five most powerful figures in the world. At their command, armies were raised, nations were relocated, people were thrown into prisons...
And they were going to listen to the demands of a seventeen-year-old schoolboy.
Absurd.
'Tick-tock, tick-tock.'
"Let's summarize," the Headmaster said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Your demands include: dropping all charges against Miss Belladonna, her immunity going forward, official apologies from James, amnesty for all those punished, and... the return of the music club... Did I understand everything correctly?"
"Yes."
Egrer couldn't resist sneaking the music club onto the agenda. He was guided by a banal "Maybe it'll fly," hoping that all this intense passion could be used for his own goals. So what, just some club. Would the Headmaster really mind? No, he didn't seem like a greedy man. And the rioters? They would surely even be happy to get a little extra on top!
"I have a counteroffer for you," Ozpin said with a slight smile. "I pledge to bring back the music club, and you - calm down the rioters."
Egrer was silent for a while, hoping to hear a continuation, but he didn't get one even a minute later. During all this time, only the General broke the absolute silence, quietly asking himself, "What does the music club have to do with this?"
"And... that's it?" Egrer uttered. "What about Blake?"
"Miss Belladonna is not part of the deal. Your answer?"
Ozpin knew exactly where to hit. Egrer rubbed his chin and lowered his gaze, diving headfirst into an internal struggle. He had never made such a difficult choice in his entire life.
If he agreed, the goal for which the union was created would finally be achieved. His dream would come true; he would be able to play music surrounded by fellow musicians. Every day of his life would be dedicated to creativity, every day he would hone his craft, and when Egrer stepped onto the world stage - he would be ready.
But to just betray Blake like that...
"You know, I think I'll~"
"Naturally, you will become the leader of the newly formed club," Ozpin quickly added.
Egrer started rubbing his chin even harder, rethinking everything he had already managed to think over.
Maybe he would have even agreed, if not for four extremely large and unpleasant BUTS. First - Weiss would skin him alive; second - her team would skin him alive; third - the crowd on the street would skin him alive; fourth - the Puppeteer would skin him alive when Egrer's turn came in Her devious scheme. And besides, thanks to Weiss, he had recently re-evaluated his goals. He didn't need the club as badly as before.
"I'm afraid that if I agree, I won't live longer than a day."
"I am prepared to provide you with round-the-clock protection from a team of experienced Hunters, or transfer you and your team to any Huntsman Academy of your choice."
"Are you serious?" This question wasn't asked by Egrer, who had plunged back into thought, but by General Ironwood. His hologram was covered in ripples for a second, as if from static.
"Yes. I am certain that Mr. Peleni and I can come to a mutually beneficial agreement."
"I absolutely see no point in negotiating with terrorists," the General declared. "They blew up my flagship, beat up my men, and caused several million Lien in damages. Grimm take it, we're hurtling towards the ground right now, and it'll be a miracle if the emergency landing goes even somewhat smoothly. If we are to negotiate, it must only be from a position of strength."
Egrer cautiously raised a finger, as if afraid to draw attention to himself and somehow refute his words.
"N-Nora's stunt has nothing to do with our peaceful protest. It was her own initiative, and we hold no responsibility for it."
Ironwood wasn't convinced in the slightest. He raised an eyebrow, above which sported the metal plate of some kind of implant.
"I heard similar words several years ago from the former leader of the White Fang. And even they held out for a few years before taking up arms."
"James," Ozpin said gently. "Just because Mr. Peleni is a Faunus doesn't mean he wants to create his own White Fang with terrorism and war crimes."
But come to think of it... Nora and her militants were the radical wing engaged in terrorism and boarding Atlesian military vessels, while Egrer himself organized more moderate protest actions in the spirit of the old White Fang. Except in the modern Fang, only the "Noras" were left, who were interested in nothing but slaughter.
"Headmaster Ironwood," Egrer intentionally chose this address to emphasize his point, "you of all people should know how hard it is to control the destructive impulses of youth. Especially if they believe they're in the right."
"Such an event simply could not happen in Atlas. Discipline and obedience to elders are absorbed by our children with their mother's milk."
"Well, I am perfectly familiar with it," Ozpin shared, taking a sip of coffee. For a second, his eyes expressed absolutely nothing, as if he recalled something from his practice that had permanently traumatized his psyche. "So, Mr. Peleni, do you agree to my proposal?"
"Thanks, I'll pass. I'm very... principled."
"Wonderful," Ozpin smiled. "I would have been deeply disappointed in you if you had agreed to trade your convictions for material gain. It is exactly people like you that our world is lacking."
It was such a bad attempt to pretend that everything was planned this way, that Egrer actually believed it. Who knows, maybe everything really was planned this way... who could figure this Ozpin out?
"Yeah... probably." He cleared his throat. "So, will you return Blake? Please."
"No," the General replied. "Ozpin has already explained what she is accused of. She is the prime suspect, and simply letting her go would be foolishness. We need time to fully investigate everything, and it would be best if she remains under our supervision."
Egrer boldly raised his head and looked straight into the eyes of the short hologram. Then it dawned on him that these weren't real eyes, and he lowered his gaze to the lens located at the base of the projector.
"I know firsthand how you receive those you consider criminals. How do we know you're treating Blake properly? It's better if she's free, and I'll ask her to help you with your investigation."
"Properly?" the General raised his eyebrow again. "I doubt it will be any worse than how you treat my soldiers."
Egrer opened his mouth to object, but the right words never came to his head. No matter how you looked at it, Ironwood was right here. But in order not to surrender his already shaky positions in these, excuse the expression, "Negotiations," he had to say at least something.
"T-these are isolated stunts by specific individuals, which do not reflect the goals of our peaceful rally."
"I've already heard similar words," the General repeated without batting an eye.
"I have a good idea on how to slightly cool down this conflict," Ozpin chimed in, steepling his hands. "Mr. Peleni will release the captive soldiers, and James will allow someone from the union to monitor the observance of Miss Belladonna's rights."
Egrer would have agreed to this compromise, but remembering Weiss's words, he decided to go all the way. Blindly, stupidly, but all the way. Either they return Blake, or war begins. Except, saying that straight to the faces of the two most powerful men in the world... He wouldn't dare do that even at gunpoint, so he tried to get through to them differently.
"I absolutely don't want to threaten anyone..." he hesitantly bit his lip, because a threat was exactly what he planned to voice, "but if Blake isn't released, a slaughter is highly likely to occur."
The General's hologram frowned. Not that Ironwood's face was capable of showing anything besides that (frowning was his default state), but right now he was squared-frowning. He understood perfectly well that when the flagship landed, the assault could be repeated.
"The Atlas army will repel any attack, and Glynda will assign the attackers even more detentions."
"I doubt your army is capable of repelling an attack by several hundred future Hunters," Egrer admitted honestly. "And repressions won't help either... That will only increase the dissatisfaction, because I remind you - they believe they are in the right. Such unjust treatment will only make things worse..."
Suddenly, he realized that a very important detail was missing from this office. A detail that had always been on the students' side, despite all her strictness, and which could have taken his side in this argument.
"By the way, where is Miss Goodwitch?"
"She has important business," Ozpin replied. He had likely just sent her far away so she wouldn't interfere with him messing with the heads of disgruntled students.
The subsequent negotiations proceeded very strangely. Egrer was saying right and logical things, sometimes even surprising himself, but Ironwood wasn't listening to the voice of reason. Furthermore, neither was Ozpin, offering various compromises and attempted bribes, but proposing nothing of true value.
As if the world would end if they let Blake go. In that case, they were clearly overestimating the threat of the Puppeteer.
Or, which Egrer leaned towards, these men, tempered by experience, simply didn't want to... lose. After all, where was it ever seen for schoolchildren to dictate terms to grown men endowed with power? Not a step back, otherwise their authority would crumble to dust.
The realization that there were idiots in front of him came unexpectedly. Realizing something like that was physically painful. If such people were at the helm of major structures, it was terrifying to imagine into what kind of hell the world would descend in a few years. Egrer wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if, due to their incompetence, intercontinental communication was disrupted, a couple of kingdoms perished, and real terrorists grew so brazen that they started attacking Huntsman academies.
"We are not terrorists," Egrer repeated for the umpteenth time when the General once again said the sickening "I've already heard similar words."
Egrer didn't know what to be more surprised by, the General's idiocy or how he got his post being an idiot. He had similar feelings towards Ozpin, but he at least had an excuse - he was crazy. A madman pretending to be a genius pretending to be a madman pretending to be a genius.
It gave the impression that they never intended to let Blake go in the first place, regardless of any arguments. And they had only called him here to put some conceited schoolchildren in their place.
Hoping for their mercy was pointless, which meant they would have to get Blake out on their own after all. However, Egrer would be just as much of an idiot as them if he simply declared his decision. No, he would throw dust in their eyes.
"I will do everything in my power to calm everyone down." He casually scratched his nose, blocking the view of his unnatural smile with his hand. "None of us needs unnecessary conflicts, right? It will take time, but by tomorrow, I think, everything will settle down."
"Wonderful," Ozpin smiled. "Rest assured, Mr. Peleni, your prudence will not go unnoticed."
'Just don't tell me he actually fell for it,' Egrer thought in shock. 'He's surely going to try and outplay my outplaying now.'
But that didn't happen. They simply congratulated him on making the "Right" decision, after which he was shown the door.
Sun was already waiting for him downstairs. Seeing his shocked face, he grew anxious.
"Well?"
"I have come to the conclusion," Egrer began gloomily, "that the academy headmasters are either idiots or madmen, or maybe even both at once. Perhaps it's some kind of occupational hazard..."
It was no wonder the Puppeteer easily twisted Ironwood and Ozpin around Her little finger. So all hope rested on seventeen-year-old schoolchildren.
'Absurd.' Egrer thought, lost. 'What a terrible world we live in, that all the problems have to be solved by minors...'
[1] Mongol Shuudan — Chaos is the Father of Order