The Grimm Prince Ch. 79 (RWBY) (Patreon)

A/N: Ozma POV seventy-nine chapters in, lmao.

-x-X-x-

Ozma had had better days. Frankly, he’d had better decades. Sitting behind his desk in his office at the highest point on Beacon, the Immortal Reincarnator finds himself caught in a spiral of uncertainty. His plan to utilize Adam Taurus and the White Fang as a new enemy to unite the warring Human Kingdoms had stalled out.

Adam had fallen out of contact, and given everything Ozma was capable of, that likely meant the Bull Faunus was dead, not simply refusing to pick up his scroll. On top of that, James had gotten strangely closed off in recent days. Their communications had become clipped, short, and one-note, with it obvious that something had happened to create distance between them.

This was a problem, because Ozma was running low on allies and James was one of the last people he could truly count on from this generation. After losing Glynda, Ozma had been forced to go all out to try and deal with Salem once and for all. His and Ironwood’s plan seemed to have worked from everything Ozma could tell, but it was hard to no for certain either way.

What wasn’t so hard to know for certain was that Taiyang and Qrow wanted nothing to do with him after the news of Ruby and Yang’s deaths on a ‘training exercise’. He’d managed to convince the grieving men that it was a terrible accident, or else Qrow probably would have tried to assassinate him by now, reincarnation be damned. However, it was ultimately still a bridge too far for them both, and they’d ultimately left Vale behind entirely and fallen out of contact.

Ozma didn’t know where the two were now, nor did he much care. While losing an operative of Qrow’s caliber was certainly challenging to overcome, it was worth it… if all had gone to plan.

Even now, Ozma wasn’t entirely convinced Salem was gone. Who knew that his former wife and ancient enemy simply… pulling back her Grimm and going to ground for years would create so many headaches? He’d known she wasn’t actually coming to her senses, of course. Glynda’s loss had confirmed that.

But had what he done to poor young Ruby Rose really managed to work? There was a reason Ozma had never tried it before. He knew it was the sort of thing that he’d only have one shot at, and then Salem would always be on the look out for it from that point on. As well, he’d struggled with the idea of killing her for centuries, until ultimately the Silver-Eyed Warriors had all but died out.

Could he have waited for Ruby to grow up and manipulated her into bed with a decent man so she could bear more children with her distinct, Grimm-Fighting genetic trait? He supposed he could have. Even just half a decade ago, that had been the plan after Summer’s death.

But then Salem had gotten particularly underhanded. Pulling back the Grimm had been a stroke of genius on her part, especially with the amount of infighting among the Kingdoms that it had caused. Ozma still didn’t know if that had been her plan, to see the Human Kingdoms fall to warring with one another and then swoop in to wipe away the remains after they had done the fighting for her.

It was either that or she’d wished to let them expand outwards, to farm a greater crop of humanity and to lull them all into a false sense of security before the eventual culling began again. And it would be false. Of that, Ozma was certain. They would-

His eyes widen and he dives to the side as a massive hammer slams into the space where he’d just been, destroying both chair and desk in an instant. He’s on his feet immediately, The Long Memory snapping out to deflect a throwing star that would have otherwise buried itself in his neck.

Shimmering into view around him, his attackers… are all wearing White Fang masks. Ozma’s eyes widen for a moment at this, before he’s dodging to the side as one of them lifts up a rifle and begins firing in his direction. This was… was this retribution? Had Adam not only been caught, but his connections to Ozma uncovered?

That didn’t make sense though. He’d been very careful to cover his tracks when it came to his scheme with Adam. Nobody should know he was the Bull Faunus’ backer. Even Adam himself hadn’t known his true identity, after all.

Straightening up, narrowing his eyes, Ozma looks around at them all… before realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He has to dodge again a moment later, but suddenly he knows what this is.

“Salem.”

Only one of the White Fang react to that, stiffening in recognition of the name. The rest do not however, leading Ozma to believe that this group… well, they’re patsies just as much as Adam was to him. Skilled patsies, admittedly, given how they keep up the pressure, attacking him from all angles and continuing to make a mess of his office.

But Ozma hasn’t lasted this long by being weak. They do their best, and they’re certainly a credit to their generation… but he is immortal.

“I knew she wasn’t dead. I knew she wouldn’t die so easily. Is Menagerie where she went to lick her wounds? Is that how she uncovered Adam Taurus? She would know… yes, she would know. And she would retaliate if I was getting in her way. Ahahaha! It all makes sense now!”

Smiling wide, Ozma handles the would-be assassins like the children they are, albeit having to discharge quite a bit of the stored energy in The Long Memory in the process. Not many knew about his weapon’s true nature. It’s ability to store kinetic energy for later use was rather secretive for a reason. Hundreds of years had left him with a veritable treasure trove of power stored in the cane.

These fools make him expend more than any have in decades, but when they’re finally all laid out on the ground, strewn across his office and defeated, Ozma knows it’s worth it. Confirmation that Salem is still alive is worth it.

Walking up to the singular White Fang who had recognized the name ‘Salem’, Ozma reaches down and yanks their mask off… only to stiffen in surprise, his smile freezing in shock at the face of Harriet Bree, Atlesian Specialist, staring back at him.

“… No, that’s not possible.”

She stares at him defiantly, and Ozma stares back, his mind racing. With a look at the others, he growls.

“Reveal yourselves! Who are you?! Who sent you?!”

Those who are still conscious pause for a moment, but Ozma has lived a long time. He recognizes what it looks like when someone is pausing before doing as they’re told, and what it looks like when someone is pausing to muster the courage to end their own life.

Before that can happen, however, a pulse of magic washes over the office, causing Ozma’s eyes to widen as they all pass out on the spot. He hadn’t done that. If he could, he certainly would have so he could properly restrain them all and interrogate them separately later, but Ozma’s magic was… greatly diminished these days. To be fair, Remnant’s magic in general was greatly diminished these days.

In fact, the only other one who could-!

Ozma chokes as a hand suddenly closes around his throat. Not Bree’s, the dark-skinned woman is still on the ground glaring up at him. Ozma tries to bring his cane around to strike at the figure suddenly appearing before him, but they catch it with their other hand and when he attempts to blow them away by discharging some stored kinetic energy… it doesn’t work. To his horror, it has the exact opposite effect actually, seeming to flow right into the figure, strengthening them.

Of course, that horror is nothing compared to the horror that Ozma feels when he looks up into the face of his enemy and realizes… it’s not Salem. It’s not the Queen of the Grimm. Rather… it’s a male Grimm, one who’s red eyes burrow into Ozma’s with an intensity that has the Immortal Reincarnator shuddering.

“Hello, Ozma.”

And of course, Salem is there as well. He struggles to break free of her pet’s grasp; to escape so he might face them both properly… but it’s impossible. The grip is ironclad.

“I’ve long wanted to introduce the two of you. One King… to another.”

Ozma’s eyes widen at that. Her King? She was calling this… this thing her King? Part of him was outraged by the idea that she’d replaced him after all these centuries with… some Grimm doll. The Grimm, by and large, were not intelligent like Salem was. Even if she’s managed to make one in her image after all this time, it must be little more than a mindless killing machine.

“You… will be stopped, Salem. I swear it… no matter how long it takes, your plans will be stopped.”

“You idiot.”

Ozma blinks, because it’s not Salem who speaks, but the Grimm Male. His lips curl back into an entirely human sneer as he shakes his head in entirely human disgust. Emotions Ozma never expected to see from any Grimm beside Salem flit across the face.

“We had no plans until you kept prodding us. I made my Queen pull her forces back years ago. I made her leave humanity alone. And what did you all do? You started killing one another. You, specifically, couldn’t leave it well enough alone, so you tried and failed to sacrifice all of your pieces on the board to stop Salem. Stop her from what? Doing nothing?”

What? Ozma blinks, feeling a little woozy by this point. How was this possible? Who was this… this man? Oh god, Salem hadn’t created him wholesale in her image, had she? She’d taken a human man and turned him into this. And then she’d twisted him, corrupted him, and wrapped him around her little finger. Ozma feels nothing but pity for the being holding him as he realizes what Salem must have done.

“We’re here because of your plans, Ozma. Yours and General Ironwood’s.”

Huh? Ozma looks to the side as the male Grimm waves a hand in the direction of his other attackers and reveals that the White Fang have had their masks taken off at some point… and it wasn’t just Specialist Bree. Each and every one of them was in fact a member of the Ace Ops Team, who worked directly under General Ironwood.

“When he found out about your plans regarding the White Fang, he decided you had to die, Ozma. So he sent all of these poor souls to try and kill you. Only, we couldn’t let that happen… so we inserted one of our own.”

Before Ozma’s eyes, Harriet Bree suddenly begins to change, to grow taller and morph into another form… her original form, he realizes in horror. Winter Schnee looks down on him from the Grimm King’s side with eyes that blaze in anger. She’s alive. Did that mean…

“Winter, check in with Summer. If they’re done, have Raven open a portal between here and there please.”

“Yes sir.”

Ozma can only watch, strength fleeing from his limbs as Winter does as she’s told, almost like she’s happy to obey Salem’s monstrous creation. Those names though… that’s not possible. It’s not-

A familiar-looking portal swirls open in the periphery of his vision and Ozma is barely able to crane his neck far enough to see what lies on the other side. There, a scene of horror greets him. James Ironwood, sat behind his desk with a familiar axe buried in his chest, held by a familiar woman.

As she yanks it out, Summer Rose turns to the portal, revealing prosthetics where her natural silver eyes once lay. When those prosthetics land on Ozma, she snarls and stomps through the portal. She’s followed by others. Glynda Goodwitch. Boudicca Nikos. Willow Schnee… and last, Raven Branwen.

The presence of the five women sends shivers down Ozma’s spine, the meaning behind their survival not lost on him. But Summer… Summer is the one who has his full attention.

Stomping forward, she grabs Ozma by his white hair and yanks his head back with a snarl.

“You tried to have my daughters killed, you bastard. Ironwood got what was coming to him for helping you, but you… you were the architect of that shit plan.”

He has… so many questions. But Ozma knows he’s not going to get answers now. Salem has won this round. She’s won it so effectively that he suspects he’ll be hunted for the next several lives and spend at least a century or more getting things back on track. He would try to unravel how this had all happened later, but for now…

“I have no excuses, Summer. If you need to kill me… kill me.”

There’s a brief pause at that, and then Summer laughs. She throws her head back and laughs, before releasing his hair and stepping away. Then, a pair of familiar hands fall upon either side of his head, and Ozma stiffens. Once upon a time, having the fingers of his Queen carding through his hair as he rested with his head on her lap had been the fondest, most relaxing thing he could imagine. But here in this place, in this situation, all he feels is fear.

“Manipulative to the end, Ozma. But everyone here knows how much you seek death. Which is precisely why we shall not give it to you. My King?”

The male Grimm holding him and The Long Memory nods.

“He’s drained.”

What? Ozma’s eyes widen as it finally dawns on him while he’s been feeling so woozy, so tired, so listless. The revelations are one thing, but this… this bone-deep exhaustion is something else. Salem’s creation has been draining him, he belatedly realizes. Him and The Long Memory both.

Smirking down at him, the Grimm King tilts his head to the side.

“It’s my Semblance, see. The ability to drain Aura. And yes, that does mean I have my own Aura unlocked. It means I have a soul. And if I have one…”

No. No, this wasn’t possible. But Ozma doesn’t get a chance to say anything else. Suddenly, Salem’s voice hits him with the force of all her magic.

“Sleep.”

It’s then that Ozma realizes what they’re planning. How exactly they intend to get around his reincarnating. They’re not going to kill him. In fact, more than that… they’re not going to let him die at all.

He struggles, tries to fight it, but even his innate magic has been drained by Salem’s creation. He’d been running on magical fumes for so long now, but even those fumes are gone and with his Aura also completely drained, he’s utterly defenseless to Salem’s command. Slumber takes him, and Ozma’s last thought is of what the world will be like when he finally does wake up… if he ever wakes up again.

-x-X-x-

As Ozma falls into a magically induced coma, Jaune watches the years fall off of him as well. Salem’s magic can’t de-age him back to a child or anything like that, it’s not all powerful like that, but it can shave off a good decade of his current body’s aging and that could make all the difference.

It’s done. Jaune lets out a heavy breath as he looks at the other women in the room, and then to where the portal showcasing a dead James Ironwood had once sat. It’s closed now that Raven has come through. Still… both men are dead. It’s over.

And yet, at the same time, it’s just beginning. Because now Jaune needs to make a decision. He’s done letting the humans kill each other. He’s seen enough of Remnant to know that he and Salem need to step in and stop all of the bloodshed. The only question is, do they do it quietly or loudly?

Does he contact the Councils surreptitiously, let them know exactly what they’re dealing with, and make them get their shit together? All while letting the average human on Remnant continue going about their daily lives thinking the Grimm are still gone?

Or does he go the other route? Shock and awe, Grimm armies swarming over the Human Kingdoms, albeit with orders to do so nonlethally as they outright conquer the world and make it clear to everyone that they’re in charge, now and forever?

Staring down at Ozma’s comatose body, Jaune frowns… and then makes his decision.