At a knock from the door, Oscar got up from his desk and went to answer it. His eyes widened at the sight of his visitor.
It took a moment before Oscar could bring himself to speak. "Headmaster Ironwood. Can I help you, sir?"
The headmaster gave him a smile. "Good evening, young man. Yes, I'd like to speak with you and Ozpin about your future at this school. May I come in?"
"Of course." Oscar stepped aside so he could enter and softly closed the door. Then he offered the general one of the spare seats.
Ozpin sent him a wordless signal, asking for permission to take over, and Oscar gave it to him. It had been strange and a bit frightening at first, being a passenger in his own body, but Oscar had become accustomed to it. He was still just as aware of his surroundings and body as he normally was, it was just that someone else was in control of his movements.
"James, it's me." Oscar had to admit that Ozpin's mature tone was an improvement on his own young voice. Somehow it never seemed like his voice cracked when Ozpin spoke for him, and he was a much smoother conversationalist.
"Good. Ozpin, here, I have an accelerated plan for young Oscar's curriculum at this school." Ironwood took out a sheaf of paper from his pocket and gave it to Ozpin. "It would be far too fast-paced for any other student, even a talented one, but I'm sure with your guidance he'll be able to handle it."
Ozpin spent a long time staring at the schedule and notes Ironwood had given him. Weirdly long, and for some reason he was bothered by it.
"I see," Ozpin finally said. "James, how well thought-out was this plan?"
"I assure you that a lot of care and consideration went into this."
"I wouldn't have expected any less, but if you'd consulted me before, I would not have agreed to this."
Ironwood's expression soured. "Why? Don't you think we need something like this?"
"I will admit that it could be useful, and not too long ago I would have appreciated this effort. But James, over the course of my long life, I have learned that manipulation and deceit are easier, but they will not help us prevail. Not when we use them on our own side."
"Ozpin, you've forgotten that there can be more than just two sides." Ironwood was tense now, biting back his anger.
"There is only us, and Salem. All other sides are irrelevant. We have our allies, and we will treat them as they should be treated." Ozpin held up the paper. "Now, I will tell Superman the truth about this, or you can. The choice is yours."
"You would betray me like that?"
"No James, this is me showing you that I am done with betrayals. Qrow still hasn't forgiven me for hiding the truth of Salem from him, and I fear what his reaction would have been if we didn't have Superman with us. We can't operate like this. Espionage against our enemies is understandable, against our allies, intolerable."
Ironwood swiped the sheet of paper from Ozpin's hand, a scowl on his face. "And if he becomes our enemy? You'll regret not having helped me in this."
"Perhaps, but at least I will have done the wrong thing for the right reason than the improbable right thing for the wrong reason."
"Damn you, Ozpin." Ironwood stood up and stalked out of the room. "Tell him what you like."
When Ironwood closed the door after himself, Oscar finally spoke up. "What was that about?" He'd had the sense that more was going on than a simple accelerated curriculum, but he'd had no idea what.
Ozpin gave back control of his body to Oscar and responded, "There was a coded message in that schedule. Ironwood arranged for a soldier to use his Semblance on Clark, a Semblance which grants him the ability to momentarily freeze an enemy. It worked, albeit the effect was less pronounced than it is on other people."
"Why did Ironwood do that?"
"He and I have long since discussed possible countermeasures against Clark if it ever became necessary. Fighting him would be even worse than fighting Salem, at least with her there is a chance of escape."
"Makes sense. So, I get your reasoning for why we should tell Clark, but I kind of agree with Ironwood on this. It can't hurt too much to be safe."
"Take it from a man who's seen it over and over again, there is no limit to the damage secrets between friends can do. You are not wrong to fear Clark, nor are you misguided in wanting a way to protect yourself from him. If he were a different sort of man, I would not have been so willing to disclose Ironwood's efforts to him."
"You really trust him?"
"I do. He's made mistakes, but I believe they were due to immaturity and inexperience rather than a fundamental aspect of his character. Would you rather we keep Ironwood's attempt secret? I would not expect you to have complete faith in my appraisal of Clark, after all. I will argue as best I can for informing him, but I will not wrest your body from you to tell him if you wish otherwise."
"You won't have to. I think Clark's a trustworthy guy too. We'll tell him."
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The first step of learning Torquasm Rao involved heavy introspection. Meditation was crucial, especially in the early stages, but to truly master this step a practitioner should know their own self and be able to maintain awareness of their fundamental being.
Clark was still a novice, of course. He read the old manuals, watched the recordings of ancient teachers, and even experienced a few of the memories of Torquasm Rao adepts stored in the Fortress. Not at all close to the ideal of being taught by an actual person, who he could question and discuss the art with, but it was doable.
He meditated. Sometimes for only a few minutes, other times up to half an hour. He felt like he was making progress, stray thoughts came fewer during those sections, allowing him to focus on observing and learning about himself. For at least a short while, his meditation offered him a relief from his hectic life as Superman.
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Clark opened his eyes and rose to his feet, finishing his meditation for the day. He always meditated at the center of the Fortress, sitting cross-legged. Soon, he'd be ready to change that up. Meditating with his eyes open, or floating in the air while meditating. Variation was good for a learning Torquasm Rao practitioner.
Now though, it was time for his sociology lesson. A pretty important topic for someone who affected an entire civilization as much as he did, and even more of one when Krypton had managed to perfect sociology to as exact a science as chemistry or biology.
"Hi Kal-El." The Fortress' AI teacher said in a friendly, gender-neutral voice. Sometimes Jor-El was the one to give Clark lessons, but he'd also recommended a personalized AI teacher, which is what had formed the core of Kryptonian education.
"Good afternoon," Clark replied.
"For this lesson, you're going to continue your course on the interplay between technology and the societies of sapient beings. Are you ready?"
Clark nodded, and the lesson began.
Multiple times, he saw the danger of introducing advanced technology to societies which didn't have the culture, laws, or history to govern their use. It was far too common in interstellar encounters. Even the cases in which the arriving party tried only to share benign technologies such as medicine, it had unintended consequences such as the natives quickly discovering military applications such as biowarfare or implementing genetic engineering without enough oversight.
There were even occasions when societies destroyed themselves with technology they'd produced on their own. Back on Earth, the Cold War had led to fear that a nuclear exchange would lead to an apocalypse. On some planets, the threat of mutually assured destruction hadn't been enough to avert it. And even on Earth, global warming and pollution were serious issues that could feasibly lead to societal collapse.
Clark had been considering offering some Kryptonian tech to the people of Remnant. Medicine, and maybe even giving them a kickstart on space travel so that they could finally build homes free of Grimm.
But he couldn't. Not when he saw the Fortress' projections of the most probable catastrophic outcomes of giving Remnant Kryptonian technology. It wasn't impossible to alter the societies of Remnant so they could remain intact after the widespread implementation of new technology, but even the most radical approach required a minimum timespan of a generation, and that was with assuming full cooperation of the people of Remnant and a team of expert sociologists leading the changes.
With just Clark alone, he was worried about trying any serious changes that took less than a century to complete.
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Colin Forwith's scales glistened under the spotlight at the stage. He moved his tongue around, trying to moisten his dry mouth as he looked down at the audience.
He couldn't believe this was actually happening. After the White Fang had disbanded, he'd given up all hope of faunus-kind ever rising to power and enacting justice on the humans. He'd thought he was doomed to work in the Schnee mines. If he was lucky, he could have gotten a faster death than the workers who coughed their lungs out and remained bedridden in their final years.
Then, the Grimm had attacked his home. The Atlas soldiers had come, eventually, but not before entire districts of the slums had been ruined and dozens of people killed. When Colin had joined the crowd, laying their mistreatment before the humans, he'd been part of something bigger than himself. They'd been united against the injustice of the Atlesian humans.
Until Superman had come in and suppressed them. That had finally opened Colin's eyes to that alien's true nature. He must have cut a deal with the powers of Remnant, helping the humans maintain their rule in exchange for fame and glory.
Colin had known he needed to do something in response. He hadn't known what, just that there had to be some way to stop the humans from ruling over them forever. He'd started by talking to others in the mines, fellow workers who shared his sentiments. They hadn't been planning anything specific yet, just talking things over.
Then had come the money and the notes. Someone had noticed him, seen that he needed supplies to get started, and had the resources to help him. Hundreds of thousands of lien, information on faunus either likely to be sympathetic to the cause or with experience running non-profit organizations and administrative work.
Colin glanced down at Esther, a pretty hamster faunus at the front of the crowd. He'd have been lost without her help, and even now her encouraging smile gave him strength.
He turned his eyes back to the crowd. There had to be over a hundred faunus here, and for a second his mind went blank, the speech he'd memorized might as well have never been written.
"Fellow faunus!" Colin forced himself to say something, and with those words the rest of his speech seemed to flow out of his mouth. "Long have we toiled for the humans. Digging Dust in their mines, cleaning their messes, gathering crops in the fields. We've been sold as property, treated as objects of their hatred. Will this be the future of faunus-kind? Will you do nothing and let your children and grandchildren suffer as we have?"
"No!" The crowd roared back. Their voices thrummed through his body, and his heart raced as he realized he now had the power to change the world.
"That's right! No longer will we take this kind of treatment. We, the Fair Treatment Advocates, will ensure that justice is carried out. The generations of hard labor and mistreatment demand retribution! It is the humans who should now support us! The humans who should be spit upon for their differences! Only then will we and our mistreated ancestors be satisfied!"
At that, the enthusiasm drained out of a few in the crowd. Only seven or eight, maybe, changed their expressions and made their way to the exits.
Colin's mysterious backer had warned him about this. If it weren't for that, he might have brushed off a few people not having the spine to stand up for their brethren.
"Stop them!" Colin pointed at the ones who tried to leave. Most of them were too stunned to react as they were seized by the members of the crowd closest to them. There was a brief struggle, but each of the seven were held in place by several faunus.
"Brothers and sisters!" Colin quickly spoke again to stop any violence. "We cannot tolerate division among ourselves. You there, young woman." He pointed at a faunus girl with red scales on her face. "Why were you leaving?"
"I-I-I've never been involved in something like this before! I was scared!"
Colin nodded. "That's understandable. That's the only reason you wanted to leave, right? It wasn't that you harbor any sympathy towards humans, you're an honest girl who wishes for fair treatment, right?"
She looked at the crowd for a moment before nodding quickly. "Yeah! Yeah! I want fair treatment, I don't give a shit about humans."
"I'm glad to hear that. What's your name?"
"I'm Michelle."
"Okay. You three, let her go." Once they did, Colin continued. "Michelle is a good, loyal faunus who just had a moment of weakness. I'm sure the same is true for the others who were unprepared for my message. Let them free, but brothers and sisters, they will need to be watched closely so that they do not slip up again."
The nervousness on the looks of those who'd tried to leave was clear, there were probably at least a few human sympathizers among them. Colin wouldn't kick them out of the FTA, but they wouldn't be allowed any positions of importance.
With that, Colin closed the meeting. The attendees were given pamphlets to read and hand out about the FTA and its mission.
Esther came up to him once almost everyone else had left. Besides her and Colin, only a few of the organizers were still here. "You did great!"
"Thanks," Colin couldn't hide his smile. "I didn't think I'd be up to the job, but once I was there I felt like a fish in water."
"Well hopefully you'll be swimming along for a long time. By the way, I got the faces of the reluctant ones." She held up a scroll with an image of an insect faunus who'd been about to leave. "I'll have their names soon."
Colin whistled. "You're one efficient woman."
"Yep, just the kind of person to run the everyday things while you bring in the members."
"Oh, you're way more important than that." Colin insisted. For a brief moment he thought of asking her whether she would have dinner with him, but he clamped that impulse down. Not yet. Not until he could move out of his ratty, cramped apartment and give her what she deserved.