Hyunwoo's scroll buzzed incessantly, each notification marked with the name Neopolitan. He hesitated for a moment before opening it—and was immediately met with a flurry of messages. The first message was sent during Mountain Glenn mission.
"I beat her up because she's annoying 😏"
Attached was a photo: Yang lying unconscious, sprawled awkwardly on the ground.
"You didn't say there are someone strong in your group. The girl with the Grimm mask... she was scary."
"Hello?"
Another message popped up, this time showing a photo of Hyunwoo himself—being carried, bandaged and unconscious, inside the hospital.
"Wait... is that you injured?"
"Are you dead? If you're dead, then I'll back up that btch instead."*
Hyunwoo blinked at the stream, sighing. Her tone, as always, was teasing, arrogant, and sharp—but underneath it, he could sense the strange loyalty she had for Torchwick... and now, perhaps a grudging respect for him too.
"Hello?"
The messages kept coming, one after another, each like a small whip of irritation and amusement. He muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.
"Neo... you really don't know how to let things rest, do you?"
Despite himself, he couldn't suppress the small smirk that tugged at his lips.
Hyunwoo typed back, his fingers stiff and slow from the pain but steady enough to send the words.
Hyunwoo: Im fine. Unfortunately for you.
It didn't take long for Neo's reply to pop up, her words laced with smugness even through text.
Neo: Well, well... still breathing, huh? Guess Cinder will be pissed. Her grand ideas keep blowing up in her face. And now? She's switching to her next toy. That virus she planted before—going to hijack systems. Especially Atlas robots. Imagine that metal parade turned against Vale.
Hyunwoo narrowed his eyes at the screen.
Hyunwoo: Seems like Ironwood can't detect the virus. Your Cinder's got someone intelligent backing her, it seems.
Neo sent an emoji—mock applause 👏 followed by a winking face 😉.
Neo: Smart boy. Took you long enough to notice. Still, Atlas is dumb enough to drown a city in tin soldiers. When they fall, it'll be spectacular.
Hyunwoo's jaw clenched. He typed slowly, deliberate.
Hyunwoo: Robots won't save Vale. They'll only turn it into a battlefield when the virus triggers. I'll persuade Ironwood to stop sending more of them before it's too late.
There was a pause before Neo answered again, this time with a line that made him exhale sharply.
Neo: Heh. You sound like you're planning to save everyone again. Careful, hero—your broken arm and busted eye don't make you convincing.
A smirking emoji followed.
Hyunwoo stared at the screen, his reflection dim against the glass. Slowly, he typed back:
Hyunwoo: As long as I'm alive, I'll make sure of it.
For a moment, there was no reply. Then Neo sent a string of laughing emojis 😂😂 followed by:
Neo: Alive? You? Barely. But...
A final message appeared, this one without the playful tone.
Neo: I wonder how long you can keep that up.
Hyunwoo: As long as this body can handle.
Neo's reply came after a pause, longer than usual.
Neo: Tch. You really don't know when to quit, do you?
A gif of someone limping with a cane popped up, mocking his injuries.
Then another message followed, slower, almost deliberate.
Neo: ...Still, most people would've given up already. Guess that's what makes you interesting.
Before Hyunwoo could type back, she added a final line with her usual playfulness:
Neo: Don't die yet, one-arm, one-eye hero. You're much more fun this way.
A wink emoji appeared 😉.
Hyunwoo stared at the string of messages, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. Neo's teasing was sharp, almost cruel, but beneath it he caught something else—an odd acknowledgment, a crooked sort of respect.
He let out a soft chuckle, though it hurt his ribs. "One-arm, one-eye hero, huh..."
____
The polished glass of Ozpin's office reflected Vale's skyline, but none of the three inside were admiring the view.
Ironwood stood rigid, the faint clink of his prosthetic fingers against the table betraying his agitation.
"The Council has spoken. After what happened—the Grimm in the city, the damaged train—they want me as Head of Security for the Vytal Festival."
Glynda's eyes narrowed. "They would rather hand you full control than admit their own oversight. Vale is not Atlas, General. You can't fill the streets with robots and expect it to be enough."
Ironwood's jaw tightened. "And yet Vale would have burned already if not for those very robots. You saw the chaos. You saw what almost happened."
Ozpin remained quiet, staring into his mug as though the steam rising from it carried the weight of their dilemma. Finally, he spoke, calm yet edged with something unshakable.
"We are being tested. By Grimm, by those who seek to use them... and by our own leaders' fear. Appointing you, James, gives the Council a sense of control. But it may play directly into the hands of those who would exploit that fear."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the city beyond.
Glynda folded her arms, her voice sharp.
"And what of Hyunwoo Kim? What he faced was no accident. That creature... it was hunting him specifically."
Ozpin's gaze shifted toward the window, his reflection looking older, more tired than he let on.
"Yes. And that, Glynda, troubles me far more than any Council decision."
Ironwood finally exhaled, his tone softening as he glanced between Ozpin and Glynda.
"...For all the Council's panic, I'll admit this much—Hyunwoo Kim lessened the damage. If not for him, the Grimm incursion would have spiraled beyond our control. Vale owes him a debt."
Glynda's expression softened, if only slightly. "At the cost of his own body. His arm is gone, his eye is damaged. He's just a student, James."
The General's metal fingers flexed at his side. "I've read the reports. His left arm is shattered beyond recovery. But Atlas has the means to compensate." He straightened, voice firm. "A fully integrated prosthetic. Military-grade, if necessary. It would allow him to fight again, maybe stronger than before."
Ozpin's gaze lingered on Ironwood, unreadable behind his spectacles. "You would grant him Atlas technology, then?"
Ironwood nodded. "After what he's done, it's the least I can offer. He saved more than Vale—he bought us time. And right now, time is more valuable than any weapon."
The office grew quiet again, the weight of his words settling like dust after battle.
Ozpin sipped his coffee, letting the silence stretch before murmuring, almost to himself,
"Perhaps... though I wonder if offering him such power would ease his burden... or deepen it."
Ozpin set his cup down with a faint clink, eyes never leaving Ironwood.
"You speak of prosthetics and power, James," he said calmly, "but what of the virus?"
Ironwood stiffened, his jaw tightening.
Ozpin's voice lowered. "Hyunwoo warned you to have Atlas's systems checked. He was... unusually certain."
For the first time, the steel in Ironwood's posture faltered. He crossed his arms, the faint hum of his prosthetic echoing in the silence. "I did have my technicians run diagnostics. Multiple sweeps. Nothing turned up—no traces, no anomalies. But..." His brows furrowed. "...if Hyunwoo is correct, then something has slipped past our safeguards. Which means whoever is behind this is far more capable than we've assumed."
Glynda folded her arms, sharp eyes narrowing. "And you plan to continue deploying robots to Vale under these conditions?"
Ironwood's tone was grim. "If there truly is a virus buried in the system, pulling them back may expose the city further. But leaving them in place risks turning them against us."
Ozpin leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "Either choice leaves us vulnerable. But perhaps..." His gaze drifted briefly toward the window, the city lights flickering in the distance. "...perhaps Hyunwoo saw what we could not."
Ozpin's gaze lingered on the city skyline through the window, lights flickering faintly in the distance where repairs had already begun after the Grimm incursion. His voice was low, deliberate.
"Amber will not last. What remains of her strength will slip away soon. And when it does, the Fall Maiden's power will demand a successor."
Glynda folded her arms tightly, her sharp eyes betraying unease. "Then we must ensure the power doesn't fall into enemy hands. Have you decided who?"
Ironwood leaned forward, tone firm. "Whoever it is, they must be unshakable. Someone capable of defending Vale... and the world."
Ozpin turned back toward them, his expression steady, almost unreadable. Yet in his eyes, there was a quiet certainty.
"Yes. I have a candidate."
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier. Neither Glynda nor Ironwood needed the name spoken aloud. Both of them thought of the same young woman — the prodigy whose talent outshone her peers, the warrior who carried herself with both skill and humility.
Pyrrha Nikos.
Ironwood exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "She's gifted... but she's still just a student."
"She's more than that," Ozpin replied softly, as though already convinced of the path laid before them. "And when the time comes... she may be the only one strong enough."
The room fell into silence once more. A silence that carried with it the weight of destiny, and the heavy truth that a choice had already been made.
____
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