Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)
- Thread starter Prok
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- Mt. Holly, North Carolina
So you want to see Jaune get regularly accosted by an annoyed Ruby for his broken weapon? When it is just a plain sword that simply and unabashedly Cuts. Despite half of it being broken, the other half being so dull it's just the shape, yet it still Cuts so Jaune doesn't see the big deal.
Honestly, yes. I want that recurring joke to happen. I want Jaune to be capable of making beautiful swords and use the equivalent of a rusted pipe. I want to have Meti show up, grab Ozpin, get so drunk Qrow looks on in a mix of shame and awe, and absolutely demolish a horde of Grimm with one Cut. I want to hear the Concordant Prayer and Holy Septagrammaton be spoken. I want to see the proliferation of VM ITTR A VSK PRET.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
@Prok
What's stopping Jaune and Bracket/Blue from helping the Process design new combat forms as a "break glass in case of emergency" contingency? The Creeps are halfway decent distractions (or actual threats to non-Huntsmen combatants), but considering that the Process is already capable of creating a superlaser (albiet with time, a chance to set up freely, and a lack of worry for collateral damage), surely they can, say, design an Ursa-sized unit that has a 40mm autocannon mounted in/on it, as long as its use is restricted to fighting Grimm or destroying inanimate objects. Even if it wouldn't be able to use them very efficiently/effectively without the direct guidance of the Transistor, it's still something that can actually fight a pack of Beowolves or a handful of Ursas under decent conditions, provided that there's either a lack of witnesses or a dire emergency where secrecy is far less important.
Hell, once the Process gets the chance to destructively scan/analyze a Paladin, it'll have access to a form meant for taking on even large Grimm.
...and come to think of it, I can't help but imagine what kind of crazy-awesome forms the Process could come up with way down the line. Jaegers ala Pacific Rim, aerial battleships that put Atlas's to shame, Starcraft 2's Colossi (a very tall, huge, four-legged walker with a pair of slashing beam weapons mounted on the sides of its head that vaporize targets--its legs are so long that the Colossus can just climb up/down cliffs with ease), something akin to Star Wars' AT-ATs, or Starcraft's Carriers (which use drone aircraft to attack, and can produce more such aircraft as needed), or a larger, much beefier version of the Atlesian Knights, but armed with semi-automatic railguns (perhaps powered by a backpack connected to the rifle).
...we need to offer Ironwood a Cell when we get the chance.
...wait, is it possible to design a vaguely Cell-sized Process unit that can mount or partially transform into a decently-sized (but short) cannon, eating small bits of the ground to make more ammunition as needed? As cool as the basic Cells are, for Huntsmen who expect to fight tough Grimm, having heftier fire support than a little zapper would be useful.
What's stopping Jaune and Bracket/Blue from helping the Process design new combat forms as a "break glass in case of emergency" contingency? The Creeps are halfway decent distractions (or actual threats to non-Huntsmen combatants), but considering that the Process is already capable of creating a superlaser (albiet with time, a chance to set up freely, and a lack of worry for collateral damage), surely they can, say, design an Ursa-sized unit that has a 40mm autocannon mounted in/on it, as long as its use is restricted to fighting Grimm or destroying inanimate objects. Even if it wouldn't be able to use them very efficiently/effectively without the direct guidance of the Transistor, it's still something that can actually fight a pack of Beowolves or a handful of Ursas under decent conditions, provided that there's either a lack of witnesses or a dire emergency where secrecy is far less important.
Hell, once the Process gets the chance to destructively scan/analyze a Paladin, it'll have access to a form meant for taking on even large Grimm.
...and come to think of it, I can't help but imagine what kind of crazy-awesome forms the Process could come up with way down the line. Jaegers ala Pacific Rim, aerial battleships that put Atlas's to shame, Starcraft 2's Colossi (a very tall, huge, four-legged walker with a pair of slashing beam weapons mounted on the sides of its head that vaporize targets--its legs are so long that the Colossus can just climb up/down cliffs with ease), something akin to Star Wars' AT-ATs, or Starcraft's Carriers (which use drone aircraft to attack, and can produce more such aircraft as needed), or a larger, much beefier version of the Atlesian Knights, but armed with semi-automatic railguns (perhaps powered by a backpack connected to the rifle).
...we need to offer Ironwood a Cell when we get the chance.
...wait, is it possible to design a vaguely Cell-sized Process unit that can mount or partially transform into a decently-sized (but short) cannon, eating small bits of the ground to make more ammunition as needed? As cool as the basic Cells are, for Huntsmen who expect to fight tough Grimm, having heftier fire support than a little zapper would be useful.
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
Mostly our limitations are time and motivation. The Process is learning things, and so far we're mostly hands off (to the point of detriment when it came to flash-Processing guidance: we didn't even realize the Process's assimilation protocol was routed through the Transistor). It's a living thing, kinda, or at least a learning thing, and we don't want to force it to conform to our preconceptions too much.
But if we had good ideas, and could design them, that's probably something that we could do during downtime. The problem is, there's only so much downtime, and we also need to code Functions, train, bond with the other students, and deal with whatever madness the school year throws at us.
But if we had good ideas, and could design them, that's probably something that we could do during downtime. The problem is, there's only so much downtime, and we also need to code Functions, train, bond with the other students, and deal with whatever madness the school year throws at us.
Stop: Rule 2
- Pronouns
- He/Him
rule 2
So!
Long posts about how great torturing someone to death is is against the rules, even for fictional characters, just because it's really gross.
For all intents and purposes, this is that.
Don't do it again.
So!
Long posts about how great torturing someone to death is is against the rules, even for fictional characters, just because it's really gross.
For all intents and purposes, this is that.
Don't do it again.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Also, it occurs to me that we should have a pretty hefty source of wealth that we can tap into in the near-future, provided Ozpin and Ironwood are willing to help us out a little.
See, with the Process mining/replacing the bedrock and underground, it's also going to be/is fully capable of mining ores/minerals/etc that would be way too impractical or expensive for anyone else to reach--whether it's things like strategically important resources like titanium or lithium, or stuff that's not as critically important but still useful, like gold or silver--which we can then sell. With Ozpin's or Ironwood's help, we could create a company that has a contract with, say, Beacon or a business that Ozpin trusts, and sell them at a relatively cheap price. So long as we don't sell that much of it, it won't significantly impact the market or make waves that are noticeable by anyone we don't want the attention of.
Prok, can the Process destructively analyze any alloy and them make more of it out of any other raw material/matter? Like, could it destructively scan some top-of-the-line alloy used in formshift weapons, then process some dirt, and use that to make more of that alloy? Can it do the same with Dust? Because I could see a contract with Beacon for providing more of the more expensive alloys or Dust for the use of students at cheaper prices for Beacon (we wouldn't even have to risk drawing any attention by booting the SDC out of Beacon's supplies entirely; if Beacon bought just 30% less Dust from the SDC, then Jaune would be able to make a good chunk of money by covering that 30% reduction with his own supply at a low price. Same deal with the alloys).
And will we get the chance to ask Ozpin for permission to gradually (to the point of being unnoticeable) convert the buildings of Beacon itself--and the ground underneath it--into Process matter? Not only would it help the Process grow significantly (Beacon is pretty big), it'd make Beacon itself much more secure in several ways (now the buildings of Beacon itself can create defensive guns/positions as needed when under attack, or create/remove walls to help defenders as needed, and good luck sneaking in infiltrators or some of her dangerous subordinates like Tyrion without getting caught immediately).
See, with the Process mining/replacing the bedrock and underground, it's also going to be/is fully capable of mining ores/minerals/etc that would be way too impractical or expensive for anyone else to reach--whether it's things like strategically important resources like titanium or lithium, or stuff that's not as critically important but still useful, like gold or silver--which we can then sell. With Ozpin's or Ironwood's help, we could create a company that has a contract with, say, Beacon or a business that Ozpin trusts, and sell them at a relatively cheap price. So long as we don't sell that much of it, it won't significantly impact the market or make waves that are noticeable by anyone we don't want the attention of.
Prok, can the Process destructively analyze any alloy and them make more of it out of any other raw material/matter? Like, could it destructively scan some top-of-the-line alloy used in formshift weapons, then process some dirt, and use that to make more of that alloy? Can it do the same with Dust? Because I could see a contract with Beacon for providing more of the more expensive alloys or Dust for the use of students at cheaper prices for Beacon (we wouldn't even have to risk drawing any attention by booting the SDC out of Beacon's supplies entirely; if Beacon bought just 30% less Dust from the SDC, then Jaune would be able to make a good chunk of money by covering that 30% reduction with his own supply at a low price. Same deal with the alloys).
And will we get the chance to ask Ozpin for permission to gradually (to the point of being unnoticeable) convert the buildings of Beacon itself--and the ground underneath it--into Process matter? Not only would it help the Process grow significantly (Beacon is pretty big), it'd make Beacon itself much more secure in several ways (now the buildings of Beacon itself can create defensive guns/positions as needed when under attack, or create/remove walls to help defenders as needed, and good luck sneaking in infiltrators or some of her dangerous subordinates like Tyrion without getting caught immediately).
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
The Process can't interact with Dust the same way it does with anything else. It's been replicating other materials from the word go, however.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, given that we can still easily mine Dust in places no one else can reach, it's still another opportunity to make enough money to buy more upgrades for the Transistor (and maybe go full Ironman eventually). Let's not leave our primary weapon, utility tool, and situational awareness with places where a single hit from even a little bullet can shatter the entire Transistor instantly.
EDIT: To clarify, I'm quoting a bit of the chapter from after Ozpin's orientation speech at Beacon:
So, we're currently sitting on a fortune's worth of Dust that we can get access to any time we have a day free to go retrieve it. And now, thanks to Ozpin, we have a customer that can be completely discrete and not record/care about where our Dust came from. While Beacon doesn't use/buy enough Dust to turn our Dust into an actual fortune, my idea of Beacon scaling back its Dust purchases from the SDC by something like 30% (enough to be noticed, but not enough to raise any eyebrows even in the SDC; it could be as simple as Beacon deciding that it has considerably more Dust than it needs for a while, in their eyes) and filling that gap with Dust sold by Jaune's company (which, since it has no address and only lists Jaune Arc as an employee, would not draw any attention at all) at a good price would still net Jaune enough money to buy a lot of upgrades for the Transistor and maybe even enough to turn his mechashift arm into a proper suit of Ironman armor (albiet with flight capability being put off for later down the line).
Yeah, making enough money to be rich by selling that Dust would take a lot more time and effort than that, but we don't need to be rich (yet), we just need enough money to get pretty much whatever hardware upgrades for the Transistor we want, and hopefully have enough left over to expand our mechashift arm into a suit of at least semi-powered armor.
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ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
I... Don't know if powered armor for Aura users is a thing. Like, look at the Paladin. It's state of the art military technology, it's able to turn single soldiers into one man armies against most common types of Grimm.
It's also defeated in detail by 3 17 year old girls and their 15 year old leader.
One caffeinated Huntsman can one shot multiple at once using a dog as a projectile weapon.
An 18 year old bunnygirl shreds through 5 of them in under a minute.
The thing about powered armor is that it isn't a force multiplier. It sets your force to a certain level, and that level is blatantly beneath what we, as a trained Hunter, will be able to accomplish. It might be beneath our capabilities now, given our frankly silly levels of muscular strength: most of our peers can't lift the Transistor one handed.
It's also defeated in detail by 3 17 year old girls and their 15 year old leader.
One caffeinated Huntsman can one shot multiple at once using a dog as a projectile weapon.
An 18 year old bunnygirl shreds through 5 of them in under a minute.
The thing about powered armor is that it isn't a force multiplier. It sets your force to a certain level, and that level is blatantly beneath what we, as a trained Hunter, will be able to accomplish. It might be beneath our capabilities now, given our frankly silly levels of muscular strength: most of our peers can't lift the Transistor one handed.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Powered armor has the benefit of having negative wear on the user. Meaning that rather than carrying additional weight as armor, the armor will carry its own weight and a lot more weight on top of that. Seeing how wielding the comatose Transistor slowed us down considerably (giving a substantial debuff for dodging and agility roles), I'd rather have all the benefits of mechashift armor (lots of different weapons, substantially improved protection--armor does matter, otherwise Jaune wouldn't bother with wearing some) without the bulk of the drawbacks of carrying more weight around (fatigue, lower agility). Powered armor also allows for the possibility of flight (especially if we/the Transistor make software to handle the maneuvering with our mental connection to the Transistor (meaning that controls would be as perfect as they could get).
And that 18-year-old bunny girl was A) using her Semblance, which is apparently quite costly in terms of aura, B) burning a lot of Dust to do it, and C) has her weapon be pretty much entirely dedicated to doing this one thing and nothing else except act as a bludgeon like a suitcase does.
It's also worth remembering that the Paladin that RWBY defeated was a weaker prototype model, and was piloted by a guy who was neither trained much in its use nor practiced with it. And it still took all four of them working together to take it down without injury. Considering that the "complete" models with just AI pilots were a hell of a lot more dangerous, it's not something to sneeze at.
Additionally, Jaune has three substantial advantages when it comes to making powered armor:
1) He has an infinite power source with him at all times thanks to the Transistor and the Process. Whereas powered armor might be impractical for everyone else because battery technology just isn't advanced enough to keep the armor powered for long enough, Jaune has an infinite power supply with him constantly.
2) He is a best-in-the-world programmer and could make software to help it function seamlessly, especially if the Transistor helps out by giving Jaune direct mental control through his Semblance. And the Transistor can basically learn his movements perfectly anyway.
3) Maintenance is basically a minor issue at best, because there's no way in hell he's not going to make everything in it (except for any Dust he puts in it) out of catoms, so the Process can just restore it to perfect functionality at a moment's notice--though any Dust supplies would have to be replaced. Still, he'd have regular bullets and shells in basically infinite amounts since the Process can just make more out of thin air as needed.
Plus, flight is just really useful to have. Hell, the most recent season of RWBY demonstrated that fairly well, even. You can use flight to run from a fight, to get to a fight that you otherwise couldn't reach (or reach in time), to get to a better vantage point, to fight and maneuver in three dimensions instead of mostly two, and falls/edges become a lot less hazardous.
And while Jaune can lift the Transistor one-handed, he has a much harder time fighting with it (even with two hands), because holding up 300 pounds of weight close to your body is a LOT easier than holding it up horizontally at full extension.
Lastly, powered armor allows for all sorts of nasty surprises to be installed as backup weapons or situational weapons.
Still, making any of that comes second after upgrading the crap out of the Transistor.
To me, the solution seems to be making armor that can be enhanced by/interact with aura. We already know that people's aura covers/reinforces their weapons, so making an armor that's designed to channel aura would elevate it to huntsman levels. Definitely not something we can make right now, but considering two of our classes are about ways to use/manipulate aura I can see it being a project in the future.
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
My point isn't about weight of the armor so much as the fact that the level of strength we're currently working with is probably at or near the limit of the level of strength that can be output by a suit of powered armor.
Going off Penny's in-show feats of strength before her major upgrade and the addition of the Winter Maiden powers, her current strength is probably either A or A+ tier: she can, under good but not ideal conditions, prevent a Bullhead from flying away, if I remember correctly. This is about her upper limit if the strain she was showing is any indication, and we physically cannot outdo Penny with a person-sized suit of armor: she has more space to put that machinery in because those are her actual muscle equivalents, not an external attachment that has to be man portable. Much easier to engineer for. To go stronger we'd need to go bigger, and at that point, it's flat out better to design a Process or create a mechanism from catoms on the spot than deal with the armor.
Also, I refuse to accept Velvet taking the metaphorical gloves off and going to the wall as an argument against my point about powered armor not being an effective force multiplier for a Hunter; that's literally my point in its entirety. When a Hunter needs to get down to business, they can flat out just go harder than the armor could. If it were feasible to build powered armors that could elevate anyone to Huntsman tier physicality, then someone else would have done it. Even with our advantages regarding not needing to source materials, that's a lot of research and development.
We can already fly, too. The Transistor is basically a cybernetic broomstick (and has already been used as such), the Process could create something like a powered equivalent of a Kor Kitesail with approximately no effort since Cells use some kind of impellers to float already, and turbines aren't exactly a secret so, y'know, more things we can build on the fly once the Process improves even more.
- Location
- The Surface Of A Hostile Planet
I'm going to agree with the idea that powered armour isn't at all practical with Remnant's existing tech, and if we're using process bullshit instead then it doesn't need to be part of our weapon.
Necronion_Yith
Pleased to Meet You
So....Why not make a Process-Symbiote Construct akin to Venom? That way we could enjoy the benefits of Powered Armor alongside adaptable shapeshifting.
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
For starters, the non zero chance we end up getting stabbed for the Process violating the Uncanny Valley effect.
But also, because the Process straight up is not there yet and will not be for a while. And even if it was, to augment our strength instead of setting it to a predefined level almost certainly below what we would be capable of by ourselves, it would have to interact with us.
So we'd need to be Traced.
Which kills people.
Let's not go full Kubo here, ladies and germs.
Edit: Anything we can make that could both contain us and exceed our strength could just exceed our strength and act independently because it'd be part of the Process. There's no sound reason for us to be inside it while it does.
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Necronion_Yith
Pleased to Meet You
Nonononono.
What I mean is a Process Construct designed to...Symbiotically Interface with people, specifically not what the Process did to Sybil in the game and most certainly not replicating the Full Kubo Bleach Quest.
Also, wasn't the whole 'Uncanny Valley Stabbing' thing from the earlier questions about the Process creating a soulless copy of Jaune in the event of his demise? Not creating hybrids between the Process & Humans/Faunus.
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
There's a link between souls and bodies. Anything we tried to alter about a human with the Process would be resisted by the Aura of the person we did it to as a hostile outside force. The Uncanny Valley effect comes into play when the Process forms a person shaped suit of armor while being alive-not-alive and thereby freaks everyone the fuck out because HOLY SHIT GEIST KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT.
Witch_Queen()
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
You knew she was coming. You could hear the gentle shifting of silk echoing through these maddening halls- endless corridors of slick flesh and cartilage propped up by bone in the Gothic mode- like some perverse inversion of the headsman dragging his axe across the stones.
Run, little pup, run, for all the good it will do you- the air has thickened to water already, but still you push through, rounding the corner then scrabbling back when you see another one of those floating orbs, filled with a dim orange light, thin red tentacles ending in cruel, barbed spearheads drifting below it.
The light shifts, it gurgles deeply, making sounds that could be words if you weren't paying attention- and then the shiver down your spine, the knowledge that you're being watched.
The halls echo with cruel laughter, and you know it is time to run again.
The orb-Grimm does not follow, but you still feel its sight on your back, telling her exactly where you are for as long as it can- a cold wind marks her path-
A door! You drag yourself through the thickening air, fighting it and the way the hallway seems to stretch into infinity to keep you from it, reaching out for it and-
Slamming into a wet, slimy surface face-first, just barely keeping yourself upright as you realise that you've reached the door. You reach for a handle, for some grip, some way of opening it, find nothing, before just punching the damn thing like that will help.
Some deep gurgle echoes through the complex, like a deep, lowing retch, and the door ripples, sliding out of your way, showing a red sky and blackened sands- a horrible landscape, but freedom nonetheless.
You step off-
Into open air, the ground no longer beneath your feet because it never was. Windmilling your arms, you twist and slip, the drop stopping your heart in your chest before you manage to grasp the ledge with a panicked yelp.
"Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down-" you chant to yourself, immediately before looking down.
You see sand scorched into a blackened glass, surrounding pits of bubbling tar, for as far as the eyes can see. You watch in horror as something rises from the tar, shifting under the surface before breaking through the skin- a beowolf, newly born, wanders off, ignoring you completely.
Laughter- right above you now. Your head snaps up, just in time to see a marble hand rush towards you.
Her hand wraps around your throat, her blackened nails piercing your tender flesh like teeth through a plum's skin. The Witch-Queen lifts you like you weigh nothing at all, holding you over the precipice and digging five stars of pain into your neck, her nails scraping against bone and cartilage.
You grab her wrist with both hands, instinct and fear leaving you with no better option as she slowly loosens her grip, letting your own bodyweight drag her nails through your neck, through veins and arteries both, until she's no longer holding onto you, and your windpipe has been torn to shreds.
Your grip slips, and you are falling, hot blood rushing past you, barely leaving you with the energy to silently scream as the tar pool rushes forward-
|||
Eight years ago.
"Jaune! JAUNE!"
Someone shook you awake. Your eyes snapped open, and the first thing you saw was Juniper, her eyes wide with fear. You were no longer falling- your neck had not been opened by the Witch-Queen, you were not about to fall into bubbling tar, to become…
You blinked, realising that there wasn't one, but three sisters in your room right now. Juniper, closest, still watching your face with concern, while Jasper and Jaana stood by the door and entirely unsure what to do.
You shifted a little, then realised how… wet, your lower half was.
"U-um…" you trailed off, too embarrassed to admit it, even with how obvious it was.
Juniper glanced down, realising what's happened.
"... Hey, it's okay. You go get changed in the bathroom, I'll change your sheets, alright?"
"Okay."
You got up, waddled to your dresser and pulled out a fresh set of pyjamas, then passed your sisters on your way to the bathroom.
"Jaana, help me get this off. Jasper, get the quilt covers- don't, argue," you heard Juniper from behind you, the rest of the conversation lost behind a closed door.
By the time you'd gotten cleaned and dressed, and put your soiled pyjamas in the hamper, you found your sisters sitting on your freshly changed bed, the smell of urine replaced with freshly washed linen, that had then been kept in a musty cupboard for a few days.
Jaana and Jasper shuffled down, while Juniper watched you expectantly, patting the now-empty space. Without saying anything, you sat down, and let her wrap an arm around you, leaning your head on her shoulder.
You stayed like that for a while, letting your sister silently comfort you for a moment.
"... J-Jaune…" Jaana started, looking down from you the moment you turn to face her. "... you were screaming, so… loud, what…?"
For a moment, you felt the lines of fire around your neck again and gulped down a breath to compose yourself.
Your throat was so sore.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Juniper asked quietly. "You don't have to, but… it helps."
"... I… was running," you started, haltingly describing your nightmare, the halls, the Grimm, the-
"Witch-queen," Jaana whispered, covering her mouth like she'd just cursed in church.
You glanced at her, frowning as you realised that you hadn't gotten that far, yet.
"You had a Witch-Queen dream, Jaune," Juniper explained.
"Wh… what's tha-" you croaked, breaking out into a cough as the word tickled your hoarse throat.
The room lit up with your big sister's cornflower-blue Aura, and she tapped your throat lightly, sending a cooling sensation all the way down to your stomach. It winked out, and you were left in the dark again, but at least your throat was fine.
At least you had that going for you.
"They're…" Juniper trailed off again, sighing deeply. "... Nobody really knows what they are. All we know is that people have them, have had them, for hundreds of years, and… some people have them worse than others. Some people barely notice, they just, wake up, thinking they had a bad dream. Others…"
"Scream and pee themselves," Jasper oh so helpfully finished.
Without really looking, Jaana reached back and flicked her in the nose.
"They can tear people apart," Juniper continued calmly, ignoring Jasper's yelp of pain. "Stress disorders, anxiety, depression… worse."
You didn't really understand what she was talking about, but the look on her face told you none of those were good.
"But," she stressed, pulling you in for a hug as she kept going, "it's important to remember that they're not real. The Witch-Queen is a nightmare- and nothing more. She can't hurt you, okay?"
Why does that ring hollow?
Why can't you believe your sister when she says that anymore? What did Ozpin say that made your sister a liar?
… Wait, Ozpin?
The dream ripples.
You pull away, and look at your sister, her face-
where is your sister's face
"Nightmares can be real," her voice echoes, a truth that burns through the very fabric of reality, burrowing into your very soul.
"Sometimes, they can show us the worst realities we'll ever know."
|||
Your eyes snap open, just as you're deposited back in your chair, the momentary sensation of weightlessness followed by the sudden impact of ass in chair fully waking you up.
Glancing around, you realise you're still in Ozpin's office, thankfully- hell, by the look on his face, you've not even been out a full five seconds. The only thing that's really changed since you were last conscious is Professor Goodwitch- her face is drenched in sweat, strands of hair hanging loose from her bun and her braid, the effort of keeping you from slamming into the floor almost putting her down.
You watch as she slumps against the pillar, gasping down air. Without thinking too much about it, you send a near-invisible streamer of catoms over by her, and let them form a chair over the course of a few seconds- one of the comfier variations you've got stored from when you were first dicking about with your new-found supply of God's own plasticine.
She stares at it for a moment, before collapsing into it with a sound of gratitude.
"{You're up, then.}"
"... How did you know about her?" Ozpin asks, not a word on if you're okay.
How did you know about her?
… You prod the new packet of information in your head, willing it to unravel and show you its secrets. How did you… always know about her?
You laugh silently, your face splitting with an unwilling grin, taking a deep breath while you still can.
"Kuroyuri. Mountain Glenn. Chert, Shale, Albatross, Ume, Terracette, Asagao, Hogback-"
You continue to list villages and towns for a good minute or so, only stopping for breath, until the look on their faces tells you you've made your point.
"All villages or towns that existed outside of very distinct areas of the Kingdom- Ume and Kuroyuri were scattered around Mistral's flatlands, Mountain Glenn and Hogback were down south, trying to expand past the mountains, Chert and Shale weren't in the middle of a scorching desert, the inverse for Albatross and Terracette-"
"Kid, what's the point you're trying to make here?" Qrow asks, but you can hear the impatience in his voice is mostly borne of concern.
You pull up a projection of each Kingdom- not to world-map scale of course- and mark out as many towns and villages as possible, alive or dead.
Cross out the dead ones. Brighten up the alive ones. Figure out the average distance between the furthest out alive one and the nearest dead one…
Draw the line.
The Kingdoms are slashed to pieces, bifurcated by a line that leaves anywhere between a quarter and three-quarters of the entire Kingdom on the 'dead' side of the line.
"Humanity isn't being attacked at random. It's being hemmed in. Like, herding sheep into progressively smaller pens. Reports are fuzzy on the smaller villages, but Kuroyuri and Asagao- they were hit by singular Grimm at least on par with a Young Goliath. Mountain Glenn was overrun..."
You look down at your shoes and sigh deeply.
"... A Beowolf… is stupid. A pack of them is, calm, and efficient, and still pretty stupid. But, when you look at something on the scale of, of a Grimm March…"
You trail off, trying to find a word for it.
"You see an intelligence behind their actions?" Ozpin prompts.
You shake your head, and it hits you.
"... Cruelty. I think it's… cruelty. The kind of petty cruelty only someone who understands humanity could be capable of."
Ozpin doesn't respond. Nobody does, for a while.
Instead, you all just sit there, silently contemplating what else you could describe the Grimm as.
"... Does she have a name?"
Ozpin's lips barely move from their downturned frown, but they move up enough to go from deep, frustrated thought, to…
Something almost like grief.
It's a minor distinction, but one that speaks volumes.
"Behind all the titles, all the myths and legends and furious vexation…" he stops for a moment, as if dragging the name out hurts him on some core level.
"... Salem. Her name… is Salem."
You let go of a breath you don't realise you were holding. On some base level, the name is slotted away, replacing all mentions of the Witch-Queen, and for some reason, that makes her less…
Less.
More real. More known. Less scary.
Not to the point of not being terrified of her, but…
Somehow, it helps.
"Well… I figured out that Salem existed, because… you exist."
Ozpin raises an eyebrow.
"You divined the existence of one of the most well-kept secrets in all of human history… because I exist?"
"The threat couldn't be a Grimm, even a Storied one, because, they're mortal, no matter how hard to kill they may be in general, so it had to be a threat that required a single competent human being to live on… well, a scale far beyond a normal human lifespan."
"{A Witch-Queen that invades dreams. A Wizard-King protecting the world from atop his tower. Two sides of a coin flipped back when the moon was whole. Makes as much sense as the light of dawn killing Grimm, if you ask me.}"
Ozpin exhales, a silent snort of disbelief.
"I cannot comment on the machinations of fate, unfortunately. Perhaps we are to do this forever."
"No. You are not. If she is a threat to humanity, then she falls under our purview. It may not be as quick as anyone would like, but we shall find a way to eliminate Salem."
Qrow laughs, shaking his head at 01.
"Bold claim for a guy I could trap in my coat pocket," he says after a moment.
"Is it any better if I say it?" Tiptoe asks.
While Qrow waffles his hand, judging the intimidation factor of a Creep, Ozpin blinks, staring at the Cell for a moment before coming to some revelation.
"... You know, it only just occurred to me that I never asked- Jaune, what… is the Process?"
"It's an answer to more questions than you or I could think to ask."
See how you like the cryptic one-liner act you old coot-
"Consider my curiosity piqued," he says with a smirk.
… Jackass.
You sigh deeply, buying yourself time to order your thoughts.
"So, first, I really, really need you to understand, this is going to be a massive simplification because the full explanation would take about three hours and about seven different science degrees to understand fully- 01, and Tiptoe, and the laser array that killed the Nevermore… they're not, the Process. They're just… puppets."
Transistor Soundtrack- In Circles instrumental, no percussion
You hold up a hand, splaying your thumb, index, and middle finger in three different directions, roughly imitating an XYZ axis.
"We, that is, humans, animals, er, everything, really, exists in a universe that has, as far as our ability to affect it is concerned, three spacial dimensions. Every physical object, no matter how large or small, can be defined on an XYZ axis, from a hydrogen atom all the way up to a supermassive black hole- everything has, height, width, and depth. No more, no less- the only other axis is, a chronological one, the constant flow of linear time."
You use your other thumb to represent the axis of time, to keep things from being too confusing. After a little bit of finagling that sets a tendon in your mostly-occupied hand on fire, you manage to get your ring finger to stretch out in a fourth direction.
"The Process… doesn't. Its catoms, er, controllable atoms, do, but the part that does most of the thinking and communication is… somewhere else- on an axis that we three-dimensional beings can't see or interact with. It, continues to exist anywhere its catoms have already been, a sort of, extradimensional mesh of information it can still access even when there are no physical sensors."
Ozpin tilts his head in that way you've noticed he does whenever he's about to ask you to specify something, but instead, he closes his eyes for a moment and mutters something under his breath.
"ᛜᚱᛁᛈᛈᛚᛖᛞ ᚷᚨᚱᛗᚢᛏᚻ᛬ ᚷᚱᚨᚾᛏ ᛗᛖ ᛖᚺᛖᛊ᛫᛫᛫"
You vaguely recognise the language as the very same he yelled yesterday and broke your sword with, but calmer, a long enough sentence to actually pick up on some of its linguistic traits- a focus on long vowels and gently rolled Rs, a passing resemblance to some languages up in the deep, deep north of Solitas.
It feels… primal. The kind of words that would be chanted in an ink-skied forest, moonlight glinting off the fallen snow and the near-frozen blood on the knife-
Your imagination is really starting to get away from you these days, and you're honestly not sure why.
He taps his glasses, and you could have sworn they cracked from just that, before fading back to smooth black glass. As he stares just past you, and around the room, his eyes grow wider, giving a soft gasp.
Then he stares at the Cell, and Tiptoe, and you can almost see something click in his eyes.
"It's… amazing," he whispers after a moment. "Something able to reach into this world and interact with us, but without us being able to do the same to it…"
After a moment, he pulls his glasses off, handing them to you. When you hesitate, he shakes his hand a little, prompting you to take them.
Putting them on is a little uncomfortable, they're very well-moulded to Ozpin's face, and he has a much narrower bridge than you, to say nothing of his head in general, but eventually, you balance the glasses on your nose and start to peer through them.
The air is alight with golden streamers.
Lines of light trace tendrils through the room, each one gently swaying and flickering, something being carried through them- little suns, drawn through the interdimensional aurora by some far-off heartbeat. Then it shifts a little- small gold ovals filled with smaller gold circles filled with red form inside the tendrils, shifting through them like water being pushed through a pipe. They stop nearby and begin to shift and swivel to face you.
We see you! Can you see us?
Yeah. You can.
The Process- not 01, not Tiptoe, the Process- giggles.
Does it look pretty to you?
"You're beautiful."
Your eyes start to well up, so you pull the glasses off and lean back, just breathing for a moment, before handing them back to Ozpin.
"Hey, c'mon, lemme see!" Qrow says from next to you, reaching for the glasses, but Ozpin plucks them out of your hands before he can.
"Later, Qrow."
"... Thank you," you say, trying to keep from sounding too hoarse.
Ozpin just smiles, warmly.
"How did it come to be? The Process, I mean."
"It's a seed AI- I just coded the first iteration, gave it access to its own source code, and then it did the rest with code and high-level mathematics. Eventually, it, plateaued is the wrong word- it found a… comfortable spot. Somewhere its intelligence was, advanced, but not so far above us that it couldn't easily interact with humans."
Ozpin blinks, and you can almost see that information sinking into his head- his eyebrows rise slowly, his mouth opening in a slight gasp, as he realises what you just said.
"You… created the Process?"
"{And us.}"
He stops for a moment, speechless, before some revelation catches him, and he chuckles lightly.
"Of course. Your Semblance boosts your intelligence, doesn't it?"
You grimace a little, that old mind goblin rearing its head again.
"I… don't like to put it like that. It just sounds… pompous, to me. I had ideas, I tried them out, and they happened to work."
Ozpin chuckles again, this time genuinely struggling to hold back laughter.
"A startlingly humble way to phrase it," he says after he gets his shit together. "But… how does it work? Did you mention something called… controllable atoms? How did you make those?"
"They made themselves," you say, before realising that's a massively unsatisfying answer. "Er… that is, they coded themselves into existence."
Qrow, by this point, has gone so far into not understanding that he's actually looped back around into trying to listen.
"Wait, what? How's that work?"
"There is a point where mathematical equations become so complex, and so, all-encompassing in regards to universal constants and variables that the solution to such an equation is, itself, a physical effect on reality. By that same metric, there is computer code that can do the same thing, but far more effectively, since, computer code is just, lots and lots and lots of maths equations run at once. The Transistor's one- a computer that can solve one of these equations, and more besides, where the Transistor is the answer to the equation that it solves. So are Process catoms."
Ozpin quietly nods as you explain, keeping up admirably for a man who went out of his way to point out his lack of tech-savviness earlier.
"But… what are Process, er… catoms?" Professor Goodwitch asks.
"Controllable atoms- they're a form of, programmable matter. An individual catom is about the size of a hydrogen atom, though, I think they may just be a kind of, dimensional extrusion of the Process, and, given enough of them, can…"
You trail off for a moment, genuinely considering what the Process can do, and if you can even condense that down to a reasonable list.
You realise very quickly that you cannot.
"... It can't assimilate Dust," you say after a moment. "That's… the only hard limit I've found."
The three adults stare at you for a long moment, silent shock settling into place as the realisation of what you've just said sinks in.
"... Had I not seen its true form, I would call you a bare-faced liar. Now..." he goes quiet, searching your face for something.
When he doesn't find it, his eyes go wide, pupils narrowing ever so slightly.
"... My gods, you're telling the truth."
"Two weeks until complete molecular control of the Kingdom of Vale. The Process is an exponentially growing system, left to its own devices."
"One piece becomes two, two become four, four become eight…" Qrow mutters. "That's… well, why haven't you? Seems like it would solve a lotta problems. For Vale, at least."
"Two reasons, mainly. One, I'm really quite afraid of the social repercussions of replacing every atom between the mountains and the seas with something under my control, and two… I don't… want, to do it that way."
"{The Process is… young. Intelligence-wise, yeah, it's the smartest creature on the planet, but experience-wise- it's not even a month old. I wouldn't go so far as to say we couldn't trust it to act in humanity's best interests given that kind of control, just… we're not sure it would be able to judge what is in humanity's best interests, without outside influences.}"
"You mean Jaune," Goodwitch says.
"'God-Emperor' just doesn't sound like a job I'd be suited for."
"... I see. Well, this is… obviously a topic we'll have to shelve until a better time comes to discuss it. It's starting to get late, and I think we should all be heading off to bed sooner rather than later. Shall we wrap up?"
It's dark out, you only just realise. Actually what time is it, anyway?
{About 10:50.}
You've been talking for three hours?
{Time flies, when you're having fun.}
But… you still have so much to ask him-
"{How about a shotgun round before we go, just in case you have anything else burning a hole in your pocket?}"
Ozpin chuckles.
"I suppose that's fair- just to get all the little questions out of the way."
How hard was that?
Vote for as many topics as you like- but only the top three will be asked.
[] Blake- "hey ozpin did you know that one of your students is a FORMER TERRORIST BECAUSE I REALLY HOPE YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT-"
[] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[] Dove- "You know one of your students is incredibly racist against Faunus, right? Like… outright committing a hate crime in public less than 12 hours ago racist. That kinda racist. That's pretty racist."
[] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[] Write-In
Run, little pup, run, for all the good it will do you- the air has thickened to water already, but still you push through, rounding the corner then scrabbling back when you see another one of those floating orbs, filled with a dim orange light, thin red tentacles ending in cruel, barbed spearheads drifting below it.
The light shifts, it gurgles deeply, making sounds that could be words if you weren't paying attention- and then the shiver down your spine, the knowledge that you're being watched.
The halls echo with cruel laughter, and you know it is time to run again.
The orb-Grimm does not follow, but you still feel its sight on your back, telling her exactly where you are for as long as it can- a cold wind marks her path-
A door! You drag yourself through the thickening air, fighting it and the way the hallway seems to stretch into infinity to keep you from it, reaching out for it and-
Slamming into a wet, slimy surface face-first, just barely keeping yourself upright as you realise that you've reached the door. You reach for a handle, for some grip, some way of opening it, find nothing, before just punching the damn thing like that will help.
Some deep gurgle echoes through the complex, like a deep, lowing retch, and the door ripples, sliding out of your way, showing a red sky and blackened sands- a horrible landscape, but freedom nonetheless.
You step off-
Into open air, the ground no longer beneath your feet because it never was. Windmilling your arms, you twist and slip, the drop stopping your heart in your chest before you manage to grasp the ledge with a panicked yelp.
"Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down-" you chant to yourself, immediately before looking down.
You see sand scorched into a blackened glass, surrounding pits of bubbling tar, for as far as the eyes can see. You watch in horror as something rises from the tar, shifting under the surface before breaking through the skin- a beowolf, newly born, wanders off, ignoring you completely.
Laughter- right above you now. Your head snaps up, just in time to see a marble hand rush towards you.
Her hand wraps around your throat, her blackened nails piercing your tender flesh like teeth through a plum's skin. The Witch-Queen lifts you like you weigh nothing at all, holding you over the precipice and digging five stars of pain into your neck, her nails scraping against bone and cartilage.
You grab her wrist with both hands, instinct and fear leaving you with no better option as she slowly loosens her grip, letting your own bodyweight drag her nails through your neck, through veins and arteries both, until she's no longer holding onto you, and your windpipe has been torn to shreds.
Your grip slips, and you are falling, hot blood rushing past you, barely leaving you with the energy to silently scream as the tar pool rushes forward-
|||
Eight years ago.
"Jaune! JAUNE!"
Someone shook you awake. Your eyes snapped open, and the first thing you saw was Juniper, her eyes wide with fear. You were no longer falling- your neck had not been opened by the Witch-Queen, you were not about to fall into bubbling tar, to become…
You blinked, realising that there wasn't one, but three sisters in your room right now. Juniper, closest, still watching your face with concern, while Jasper and Jaana stood by the door and entirely unsure what to do.
You shifted a little, then realised how… wet, your lower half was.
"U-um…" you trailed off, too embarrassed to admit it, even with how obvious it was.
Juniper glanced down, realising what's happened.
"... Hey, it's okay. You go get changed in the bathroom, I'll change your sheets, alright?"
"Okay."
You got up, waddled to your dresser and pulled out a fresh set of pyjamas, then passed your sisters on your way to the bathroom.
"Jaana, help me get this off. Jasper, get the quilt covers- don't, argue," you heard Juniper from behind you, the rest of the conversation lost behind a closed door.
By the time you'd gotten cleaned and dressed, and put your soiled pyjamas in the hamper, you found your sisters sitting on your freshly changed bed, the smell of urine replaced with freshly washed linen, that had then been kept in a musty cupboard for a few days.
Jaana and Jasper shuffled down, while Juniper watched you expectantly, patting the now-empty space. Without saying anything, you sat down, and let her wrap an arm around you, leaning your head on her shoulder.
You stayed like that for a while, letting your sister silently comfort you for a moment.
"... J-Jaune…" Jaana started, looking down from you the moment you turn to face her. "... you were screaming, so… loud, what…?"
For a moment, you felt the lines of fire around your neck again and gulped down a breath to compose yourself.
Your throat was so sore.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Juniper asked quietly. "You don't have to, but… it helps."
"... I… was running," you started, haltingly describing your nightmare, the halls, the Grimm, the-
"Witch-queen," Jaana whispered, covering her mouth like she'd just cursed in church.
You glanced at her, frowning as you realised that you hadn't gotten that far, yet.
"You had a Witch-Queen dream, Jaune," Juniper explained.
"Wh… what's tha-" you croaked, breaking out into a cough as the word tickled your hoarse throat.
The room lit up with your big sister's cornflower-blue Aura, and she tapped your throat lightly, sending a cooling sensation all the way down to your stomach. It winked out, and you were left in the dark again, but at least your throat was fine.
At least you had that going for you.
"They're…" Juniper trailed off again, sighing deeply. "... Nobody really knows what they are. All we know is that people have them, have had them, for hundreds of years, and… some people have them worse than others. Some people barely notice, they just, wake up, thinking they had a bad dream. Others…"
"Scream and pee themselves," Jasper oh so helpfully finished.
Without really looking, Jaana reached back and flicked her in the nose.
"They can tear people apart," Juniper continued calmly, ignoring Jasper's yelp of pain. "Stress disorders, anxiety, depression… worse."
You didn't really understand what she was talking about, but the look on her face told you none of those were good.
"But," she stressed, pulling you in for a hug as she kept going, "it's important to remember that they're not real. The Witch-Queen is a nightmare- and nothing more. She can't hurt you, okay?"
Why does that ring hollow?
Why can't you believe your sister when she says that anymore? What did Ozpin say that made your sister a liar?
… Wait, Ozpin?
The dream ripples.
You pull away, and look at your sister, her face-
where is your sister's face
"Nightmares can be real," her voice echoes, a truth that burns through the very fabric of reality, burrowing into your very soul.
"Sometimes, they can show us the worst realities we'll ever know."
|||
Your eyes snap open, just as you're deposited back in your chair, the momentary sensation of weightlessness followed by the sudden impact of ass in chair fully waking you up.
Glancing around, you realise you're still in Ozpin's office, thankfully- hell, by the look on his face, you've not even been out a full five seconds. The only thing that's really changed since you were last conscious is Professor Goodwitch- her face is drenched in sweat, strands of hair hanging loose from her bun and her braid, the effort of keeping you from slamming into the floor almost putting her down.
You watch as she slumps against the pillar, gasping down air. Without thinking too much about it, you send a near-invisible streamer of catoms over by her, and let them form a chair over the course of a few seconds- one of the comfier variations you've got stored from when you were first dicking about with your new-found supply of God's own plasticine.
She stares at it for a moment, before collapsing into it with a sound of gratitude.
"{You're up, then.}"
"... How did you know about her?" Ozpin asks, not a word on if you're okay.
How did you know about her?
… You prod the new packet of information in your head, willing it to unravel and show you its secrets. How did you… always know about her?
You laugh silently, your face splitting with an unwilling grin, taking a deep breath while you still can.
"Kuroyuri. Mountain Glenn. Chert, Shale, Albatross, Ume, Terracette, Asagao, Hogback-"
You continue to list villages and towns for a good minute or so, only stopping for breath, until the look on their faces tells you you've made your point.
"All villages or towns that existed outside of very distinct areas of the Kingdom- Ume and Kuroyuri were scattered around Mistral's flatlands, Mountain Glenn and Hogback were down south, trying to expand past the mountains, Chert and Shale weren't in the middle of a scorching desert, the inverse for Albatross and Terracette-"
"Kid, what's the point you're trying to make here?" Qrow asks, but you can hear the impatience in his voice is mostly borne of concern.
You pull up a projection of each Kingdom- not to world-map scale of course- and mark out as many towns and villages as possible, alive or dead.
Cross out the dead ones. Brighten up the alive ones. Figure out the average distance between the furthest out alive one and the nearest dead one…
Draw the line.
The Kingdoms are slashed to pieces, bifurcated by a line that leaves anywhere between a quarter and three-quarters of the entire Kingdom on the 'dead' side of the line.
"Humanity isn't being attacked at random. It's being hemmed in. Like, herding sheep into progressively smaller pens. Reports are fuzzy on the smaller villages, but Kuroyuri and Asagao- they were hit by singular Grimm at least on par with a Young Goliath. Mountain Glenn was overrun..."
You look down at your shoes and sigh deeply.
"... A Beowolf… is stupid. A pack of them is, calm, and efficient, and still pretty stupid. But, when you look at something on the scale of, of a Grimm March…"
You trail off, trying to find a word for it.
"You see an intelligence behind their actions?" Ozpin prompts.
You shake your head, and it hits you.
"... Cruelty. I think it's… cruelty. The kind of petty cruelty only someone who understands humanity could be capable of."
Ozpin doesn't respond. Nobody does, for a while.
Instead, you all just sit there, silently contemplating what else you could describe the Grimm as.
"... Does she have a name?"
Ozpin's lips barely move from their downturned frown, but they move up enough to go from deep, frustrated thought, to…
Something almost like grief.
It's a minor distinction, but one that speaks volumes.
"Behind all the titles, all the myths and legends and furious vexation…" he stops for a moment, as if dragging the name out hurts him on some core level.
"... Salem. Her name… is Salem."
You let go of a breath you don't realise you were holding. On some base level, the name is slotted away, replacing all mentions of the Witch-Queen, and for some reason, that makes her less…
Less.
More real. More known. Less scary.
Not to the point of not being terrified of her, but…
Somehow, it helps.
"Well… I figured out that Salem existed, because… you exist."
Ozpin raises an eyebrow.
"You divined the existence of one of the most well-kept secrets in all of human history… because I exist?"
"The threat couldn't be a Grimm, even a Storied one, because, they're mortal, no matter how hard to kill they may be in general, so it had to be a threat that required a single competent human being to live on… well, a scale far beyond a normal human lifespan."
"{A Witch-Queen that invades dreams. A Wizard-King protecting the world from atop his tower. Two sides of a coin flipped back when the moon was whole. Makes as much sense as the light of dawn killing Grimm, if you ask me.}"
Ozpin exhales, a silent snort of disbelief.
"I cannot comment on the machinations of fate, unfortunately. Perhaps we are to do this forever."
"No. You are not. If she is a threat to humanity, then she falls under our purview. It may not be as quick as anyone would like, but we shall find a way to eliminate Salem."
Qrow laughs, shaking his head at 01.
"Bold claim for a guy I could trap in my coat pocket," he says after a moment.
"Is it any better if I say it?" Tiptoe asks.
While Qrow waffles his hand, judging the intimidation factor of a Creep, Ozpin blinks, staring at the Cell for a moment before coming to some revelation.
"... You know, it only just occurred to me that I never asked- Jaune, what… is the Process?"
"It's an answer to more questions than you or I could think to ask."
See how you like the cryptic one-liner act you old coot-
"Consider my curiosity piqued," he says with a smirk.
… Jackass.
You sigh deeply, buying yourself time to order your thoughts.
"So, first, I really, really need you to understand, this is going to be a massive simplification because the full explanation would take about three hours and about seven different science degrees to understand fully- 01, and Tiptoe, and the laser array that killed the Nevermore… they're not, the Process. They're just… puppets."
Transistor Soundtrack- In Circles instrumental, no percussion
You hold up a hand, splaying your thumb, index, and middle finger in three different directions, roughly imitating an XYZ axis.
"We, that is, humans, animals, er, everything, really, exists in a universe that has, as far as our ability to affect it is concerned, three spacial dimensions. Every physical object, no matter how large or small, can be defined on an XYZ axis, from a hydrogen atom all the way up to a supermassive black hole- everything has, height, width, and depth. No more, no less- the only other axis is, a chronological one, the constant flow of linear time."
You use your other thumb to represent the axis of time, to keep things from being too confusing. After a little bit of finagling that sets a tendon in your mostly-occupied hand on fire, you manage to get your ring finger to stretch out in a fourth direction.
"The Process… doesn't. Its catoms, er, controllable atoms, do, but the part that does most of the thinking and communication is… somewhere else- on an axis that we three-dimensional beings can't see or interact with. It, continues to exist anywhere its catoms have already been, a sort of, extradimensional mesh of information it can still access even when there are no physical sensors."
Ozpin tilts his head in that way you've noticed he does whenever he's about to ask you to specify something, but instead, he closes his eyes for a moment and mutters something under his breath.
"ᛜᚱᛁᛈᛈᛚᛖᛞ ᚷᚨᚱᛗᚢᛏᚻ᛬ ᚷᚱᚨᚾᛏ ᛗᛖ ᛖᚺᛖᛊ᛫᛫᛫"
You vaguely recognise the language as the very same he yelled yesterday and broke your sword with, but calmer, a long enough sentence to actually pick up on some of its linguistic traits- a focus on long vowels and gently rolled Rs, a passing resemblance to some languages up in the deep, deep north of Solitas.
It feels… primal. The kind of words that would be chanted in an ink-skied forest, moonlight glinting off the fallen snow and the near-frozen blood on the knife-
Your imagination is really starting to get away from you these days, and you're honestly not sure why.
He taps his glasses, and you could have sworn they cracked from just that, before fading back to smooth black glass. As he stares just past you, and around the room, his eyes grow wider, giving a soft gasp.
Then he stares at the Cell, and Tiptoe, and you can almost see something click in his eyes.
"It's… amazing," he whispers after a moment. "Something able to reach into this world and interact with us, but without us being able to do the same to it…"
After a moment, he pulls his glasses off, handing them to you. When you hesitate, he shakes his hand a little, prompting you to take them.
Putting them on is a little uncomfortable, they're very well-moulded to Ozpin's face, and he has a much narrower bridge than you, to say nothing of his head in general, but eventually, you balance the glasses on your nose and start to peer through them.
The air is alight with golden streamers.
Lines of light trace tendrils through the room, each one gently swaying and flickering, something being carried through them- little suns, drawn through the interdimensional aurora by some far-off heartbeat. Then it shifts a little- small gold ovals filled with smaller gold circles filled with red form inside the tendrils, shifting through them like water being pushed through a pipe. They stop nearby and begin to shift and swivel to face you.
We see you! Can you see us?
Yeah. You can.
The Process- not 01, not Tiptoe, the Process- giggles.
Does it look pretty to you?
"You're beautiful."
Your eyes start to well up, so you pull the glasses off and lean back, just breathing for a moment, before handing them back to Ozpin.
"Hey, c'mon, lemme see!" Qrow says from next to you, reaching for the glasses, but Ozpin plucks them out of your hands before he can.
"Later, Qrow."
"... Thank you," you say, trying to keep from sounding too hoarse.
Ozpin just smiles, warmly.
"How did it come to be? The Process, I mean."
"It's a seed AI- I just coded the first iteration, gave it access to its own source code, and then it did the rest with code and high-level mathematics. Eventually, it, plateaued is the wrong word- it found a… comfortable spot. Somewhere its intelligence was, advanced, but not so far above us that it couldn't easily interact with humans."
Ozpin blinks, and you can almost see that information sinking into his head- his eyebrows rise slowly, his mouth opening in a slight gasp, as he realises what you just said.
"You… created the Process?"
"{And us.}"
He stops for a moment, speechless, before some revelation catches him, and he chuckles lightly.
"Of course. Your Semblance boosts your intelligence, doesn't it?"
You grimace a little, that old mind goblin rearing its head again.
"I… don't like to put it like that. It just sounds… pompous, to me. I had ideas, I tried them out, and they happened to work."
Ozpin chuckles again, this time genuinely struggling to hold back laughter.
"A startlingly humble way to phrase it," he says after he gets his shit together. "But… how does it work? Did you mention something called… controllable atoms? How did you make those?"
"They made themselves," you say, before realising that's a massively unsatisfying answer. "Er… that is, they coded themselves into existence."
Qrow, by this point, has gone so far into not understanding that he's actually looped back around into trying to listen.
"Wait, what? How's that work?"
"There is a point where mathematical equations become so complex, and so, all-encompassing in regards to universal constants and variables that the solution to such an equation is, itself, a physical effect on reality. By that same metric, there is computer code that can do the same thing, but far more effectively, since, computer code is just, lots and lots and lots of maths equations run at once. The Transistor's one- a computer that can solve one of these equations, and more besides, where the Transistor is the answer to the equation that it solves. So are Process catoms."
Ozpin quietly nods as you explain, keeping up admirably for a man who went out of his way to point out his lack of tech-savviness earlier.
"But… what are Process, er… catoms?" Professor Goodwitch asks.
"Controllable atoms- they're a form of, programmable matter. An individual catom is about the size of a hydrogen atom, though, I think they may just be a kind of, dimensional extrusion of the Process, and, given enough of them, can…"
You trail off for a moment, genuinely considering what the Process can do, and if you can even condense that down to a reasonable list.
You realise very quickly that you cannot.
"... It can't assimilate Dust," you say after a moment. "That's… the only hard limit I've found."
The three adults stare at you for a long moment, silent shock settling into place as the realisation of what you've just said sinks in.
"... Had I not seen its true form, I would call you a bare-faced liar. Now..." he goes quiet, searching your face for something.
When he doesn't find it, his eyes go wide, pupils narrowing ever so slightly.
"... My gods, you're telling the truth."
"Two weeks until complete molecular control of the Kingdom of Vale. The Process is an exponentially growing system, left to its own devices."
"One piece becomes two, two become four, four become eight…" Qrow mutters. "That's… well, why haven't you? Seems like it would solve a lotta problems. For Vale, at least."
"Two reasons, mainly. One, I'm really quite afraid of the social repercussions of replacing every atom between the mountains and the seas with something under my control, and two… I don't… want, to do it that way."
"{The Process is… young. Intelligence-wise, yeah, it's the smartest creature on the planet, but experience-wise- it's not even a month old. I wouldn't go so far as to say we couldn't trust it to act in humanity's best interests given that kind of control, just… we're not sure it would be able to judge what is in humanity's best interests, without outside influences.}"
"You mean Jaune," Goodwitch says.
"'God-Emperor' just doesn't sound like a job I'd be suited for."
"... I see. Well, this is… obviously a topic we'll have to shelve until a better time comes to discuss it. It's starting to get late, and I think we should all be heading off to bed sooner rather than later. Shall we wrap up?"
It's dark out, you only just realise. Actually what time is it, anyway?
{About 10:50.}
You've been talking for three hours?
{Time flies, when you're having fun.}
But… you still have so much to ask him-
"{How about a shotgun round before we go, just in case you have anything else burning a hole in your pocket?}"
Ozpin chuckles.
"I suppose that's fair- just to get all the little questions out of the way."
How hard was that?
Vote for as many topics as you like- but only the top three will be asked.
[] Blake- "hey ozpin did you know that one of your students is a FORMER TERRORIST BECAUSE I REALLY HOPE YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT-"
[] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[] Dove- "You know one of your students is incredibly racist against Faunus, right? Like… outright committing a hate crime in public less than 12 hours ago racist. That kinda racist. That's pretty racist."
[] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[] Write-In
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- Location
- The Surface Of A Hostile Planet
[X] Blake- "hey ozpin did you know that one of your students is a FORMER TERRORIST BECAUSE I REALLY HOPE YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT-"
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
TimEd
Meteor maker
[x] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
Because this threat isn't easy to put down conventionally. Especially unprepared.
[x] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
Might as well also include a non-human threat to add spice to the proceedings.
[x] Dove- "You know one of your students is incredibly racist against Faunus, right? Like… outright committing a hate crime in public less than 12 hours ago racist. That kinda racist. That's pretty racist."
torn between this and the one below, but I decided on this because this may be easier to solve, and the one on the bottom may be better solved with a bit of soul searching (ours and/or the grimm if it has one).
[] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
Because this threat isn't easy to put down conventionally. Especially unprepared.
[x] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
Might as well also include a non-human threat to add spice to the proceedings.
[x] Dove- "You know one of your students is incredibly racist against Faunus, right? Like… outright committing a hate crime in public less than 12 hours ago racist. That kinda racist. That's pretty racist."
torn between this and the one below, but I decided on this because this may be easier to solve, and the one on the bottom may be better solved with a bit of soul searching (ours and/or the grimm if it has one).
[] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
- Location
- Brazil
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] The Subterranean Grimm- "... So… I may have sent the Process down, into the bedrock, they're not, doing anything, really, just spreading a bunch, and, uh… you might wanna see this."
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
These seem to be the most important things, in order, in my opinion. Incredible update, you could really feel Jaune's exhaustion and the awesomeness (and I mean that in the archaic sense of the world) of the Process.
[X] Ada- "Boriah Lee may be coming for one of my teammates in particular."
[X] Cerynia- "... Yesterday I killed a Grimm and hated myself a little afterwards. I've never felt bad about killing a Grimm before, but… yesterday, I did."
These seem to be the most important things, in order, in my opinion. Incredible update, you could really feel Jaune's exhaustion and the awesomeness (and I mean that in the archaic sense of the world) of the Process.