Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)

Oz/Revelation()

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As the leader of Beacon Academy and effectively one of the members of Vale's ruling council, Ozpin was a master of composure. He could count the number of people who had seen him "unruffled"--at least since his merger with Ozma--on one hand, and Glynda was one of them.

It thus came as completely unsurprising that he remained largely stoic in the face of one of his newest students' words. And that was good--a good leader should never give their subordinates reason to despair or panic by showing a lack of composure when being looked to for guidance.

Inside, however, he was reeling.

While part of him was simply Ozpin, Master Huntsman and Headmaster of Beacon, the rest was Ozma, immortal wizard who had seen gods perform impossible feats, seen humanity be wiped out by divine fury, seen humanity be recreated by divine mercy, seen civilizations rise and fall, had battled with Salem in a titanic clash of magic until he rendered her to naught but ash...only to see her rise again mere moments later. He had seen it all. He had been playing this game with Salem for a very, very long time. He had failed over and over again, risen up to try again and again, and had even turned to the Relic of Knowledge in desperation for any hope of victory. He had been fighting a secret war for thousands of years--against Salem, against the darker aspects of humanity, against the Grimm, against his own failures and mistakes...and he had harbored a fear, deep down, admitted to no-one: that his mission was truly hopeless. That Salem would keep picking away at his progress until he missed something critical, or the wrong person gained enough power and used it in the wrong way, to devastating consequences. That, unable to kill Salem, the unending forces of the Grimm would eventually find a crack in what remained of humanity's civilization and bring it down piece by piece. They had brought down all but four--five, if you counted Menagerie, though counting Vacuo as a kingdom these days was being rather generous--kingdoms already.

The Grimm were growing stronger, more dangerous--very slowly, but any growth was alarming when you were facing an enemy that could never be killed. And critical resources were going to get increasingly hard to acquire over time as they mined the lower-hanging fruit in safer areas. The Kingdoms had never successfully expanded before in a substantial manner--the one time they'd tried in recent memory, it had ended in failure. General Ironwood believed--perhaps rightly--that the only way to change the game was to develop humanity's technology and industry. Knowledge gained, kept, taught, and iterated upon would be the method for humanity's eventual salvation. And it had even showed promise--technology had given humanity a global communications network and shared culture. Technology had given humanity flying ships and even flying fortresses. It had given the ability to create artificial soldiers and even machines capable of giving average people a fighting chance against some of the stronger Grimm.

But even that strength was fragile. Vulnerable. A single CCT tower going down would plunge an entire kingdom into isolation. The mines that provided the precious materials needed for much of the advanced technology of Remnant might simply be overrun by a massive, coordinated swarm of Grimm if Salem decided to commit to it. Atlas, the city in the sky, exacerbated the growing economic and social divide between the rich and the poor in its kingdom, and between the faunus and humanity especially. Sooner or later, that mess would boil over and burst.

And then there were the Maidens, the mantles of great magical power which could be stolen and used against humanity. Another one of his well-intentioned moves that had become a terrible mistake. Another set of vulnerabilities introduced into the grand game that he and Salem played. A game where the deck was stacked against him and it was all he could do to just not lose for a little while longer. Very rarely did the game change, and even rarer still that it changed at all for the better.

And now a young boy was casually telling him about how, completely ignorant of all of this context or the greater implications, he had changed the game completely. How he had perservered against a semblance that had crippled and almost killed him and turned it into a tool--a person--more powerful than the giant communications tower that dominated Vale. How he had dreamed of the greatest possible potential of his semblance and, brain bleeding and body struggling, created the seed of a new god. A baby, as far as gods went, but the sheer potential was already fairly clear to Jaune. And as Jaune explained further about that potential, Ozpin realized that the feeling in his chest was something he had not felt in a long time: hope.

Jaune was the creator and parent to a new god, one that did not view humanity as a creation to be ruthlessly judged or gleefully destroyed. One that was eager to learn, eager to grow, eager to befriend. One that they could guide, teach, and help in its most formative and vulnerable point in life.

And what a god it would be. Walls large enough and long enough to protect an entire kingdom, erected quickly and inexorably. An endless supply of soldiers that could learn and adapt. A mind that could not be killed. Weapons and constructs capable of fighting the most powerful of Grimm, limited more by imagination and knowledge than materials or industry. It could build entire cities on its own, eventually. It could make so many CCT towers that even the Grimm couldn't possibly take down enough. It could build homes for the homeless, provide energy and clean water in abundance, provide protection for the helpless, and so much more. It could even mine the deepest seams and the farthest reaches of the world without a single casualty. It could bring about world peace by providing protection, shelter, resources, communication, and truth to power. And for all that humans and faunus were fallible and flawed, those flaws became much harder to exploit when everyone had safety, shelter, food, community, truth, and a better future. The Brothers' final judgment would be so much easier to meet without fear, then. Ozpin might not even have to seek out their judgment at all. The Process was divine deliverance...eventually.

All it needed were two things: time and guidance. And that...that he could do.

General Ironwood's army no longer needed to become the answer to all the world's dangers--it just needed to buy enough time. Ozpin no longer had to unite humanity and keep it united despite its flaws and Salem's machinations--he just had to keep it unified enough and strong enough for long enough. He no longer had to keep the Maidens and Relics out of Salem's hands forever--he just needed to stymie her for long enough that the Process could grow strong enough to keep them out of her hands with overwhelming force. He no longer had to delicately balance his plans between his short-term needs and his long-term hopes--he could go all-in on keeping things stable for the next 80 years or so and buy the Process all the time it needed to become unstoppable and uncorruptible.

And as for guidance? Well, from what he had learned about Jaune, the Process was in pretty good hands already, though Jaune seemed to understand that it was alright for the Process to learn from more than just him. And Ozpin...well, no person alive had made so many mistakes...and learned from them all. He had seen so much, done so much, been through so much. There was so much knowledge and wisdom he could share. And he could pass it on to an immortal mind, an unkillable being. Indeed, even if he were to die or be killed, his successor could still reach out to the Process.

So much potential, so much hope. It was mind-boggling. But it could all go so wrong if he got careless. Until the Process grew powerful enough and wise enough to thrwart any attempts to subvert or taint it by even a cunning immortal like Salem, he had to ensure that the Process, too, was kept safe. He mentally shuddered at the possibility of one of its Cells being dumped into one of the Pools of Annihilation. He would have to warn Jaune and the Process about that danger, and as soon as possible.

Beyond all that, though...Ozma and his incarnations had taught a great many people over the milennia. He had done it knowing that he would outlive every single one of them, and that none of them would ever surpass him. It filled him with a sadness so deep and so old that he had almost forgotten it was there...until he realized that he had finally found a student--perhaps several--who could surpass and outlive him. And as he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders just a little, he allowed his famous composure to slip just slightly. A tiny smile, so small that Jaune wouldn't be able to tell even if he were looking for it.

And Jaune...now there was a fascinating case study. Here was a boy--rapidly becoming a man--who had so much power at his fingertips that, were it in the hands of someone entirely unknown, Ozpin would be utterly terrified. The Transistor alone could hack just about anything that wasn't air-gapped, and the potential for harm or theft was immense. He could hold the CCT network hostage and life the high life off the ransom alone. He had created a digital god that viewed him as its master, its teacher, its creator, and its most important thing in existence. He could have created his own personal kingdom and ruled in totality, unchallenged by human or Grimm.

He had done none of that. Had put in no effort towards even laying the foundation for any of that. He had worked hard for years to become a huntsman. He had put his own life in danger to create the Process as soon as possible just so that it wouldn't stay locked up and alone for even a moment longer. He knew the potential of the god he had created and his first thoughts about it were how to save the world. And here, now, in this room, he had freely and eagerly shared everything he knew about it all, hoping to do the most good for everyone, rather than prioritizing himself.

Jaune may not have been the best teacher for a baby god, but he was better than most, and if Jaune gave the Process nothing but an example of the kind of person to be, then he would have done a great job. And as Jaune grew and learned and experienced, he would become a better teacher. So would Blue and Bracket, Ozpin suspected.

The game had changed dramatically, and Salem had no idea whatsoever. Ozpin made a mental note to save a copy of the recording of this meeting onto a local flash drive and scrub all other data on it from the systems. He'd show James Ironwood in person once, then delete that copy too and the record of that meeting, while also impressing the sheer importance of total secrecy on this matter upon him. So long as Salem didn't know about the potential of the Process, she would not muster overwhelming force against it until it was too late--after all, she still viewed the usual critical pieces on the board as important as ever. Jaune and his creations might be targets of opportunity, but without understanding what the Process represented, she'd never commit or risk so much as to make them targets of priority.

If he devoted every asset he could call upon to protect and support Jaune, that crucial secrecy would be lost. But if his support was subtle and not particularly unusual for a promising student, then it would be below suspicion. Hell, he normally wouldn't even tell James about such a development when secrecy was that important, but it would be a powerful way to curb James' and Atlas' most worrying tendencies, and James understood all too well the importance of keeping your ultimate trump card as secret as possible.

The game had changed...and now, Ozma had a workable win condition.