The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall, arched windows of Beacon Academy's headmaster's office, casting long streaks of amber across polished floors and the elegant curvature of old wood furniture. The rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the wall was the only sound that filled the vast room—until a faint hum signaled the activation of the holoscreen.
Ozpin didn't feel like staying in his LUCID office, within the base beneath the school. He found it rather depressing having to constantly stay there most of his time, approving forms and charging the rune ports. There wasn't even any sunlight and sometimes, Ozpin felt like a vampire having to stay there all the time.
Sometimes, Ozpin even dreamt of being a normal person yet again. The one perk of being a Rank 3 was that they could sleep without having worry of being dragged into the dream realm. Power at its finest eh?
But then again... there was simply too many responsibilities that he had, so dreams were merely that. Simply dreams.
Paperwork was annoying, however. That one would always stay the same.
A pale blue light shimmered into form above his desk, coalescing into the rigid and broad-shouldered image of General James Ironwood, head of the Atleasian Military force. His uniform was well kept yet his tone was tense. Even through the holographic projection, Ozpin could tell the man was tired. The faint crease beneath his eyes, the slight downturn of his lips. It wasn't exhaustion from lack of sleep, but from the kind of strain that came with constant command vigilance.
"Apologies Ozpin," Ironwood greeted, his voice deep and clipped, a soldier's cadence even in casual speech. "I received your message, but I haven't had time until now to respond. Is it urgent?"
"Somewhat urgent," Ozpin said, swirling the coffee in his cup slowly before setting it down. The soft clink of porcelain echoed faintly. "There's been an incident. I believe it's time we compared notes about this... terrorist group, Sleepless."
The very mention of the name made Ironwood's expression shift subtly. His brow furrowed, his jaw tightened.
"I was afraid of that," Ironwood muttered. "Yes, we've had… developments on our end too. Unpleasant ones."
"Go on," Ozpin said quietly.
Ironwood exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking up again. "Three nights ago, in northern Atlas, our outer research district experienced an Amalgamation outbreak. My Rank 2 task force, the Ace Ops, was deployed within seconds. They managed to contain it before it could spread beyond the containment perimeter."
Ozpin's eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses. "How severe?"
Ironwood paused, his gaze briefly lowering to something off-screen before replying. "…Less than twenty casualties."
Ozpin leaned back in his chair, silent for a long moment. The number struck him. He was surprised that it wasn't higher.
"I see," Ozpin finally said, his tone thoughtful. "Less than twenty. Remarkable. I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. Atlas has always excelled at rapid containment."
Ironwood allowed himself a brief, humorless smirk. "We've had practice. Our base isn't exactly short on… threats. But this one was different. The readings showed residual runic energy being unnaturally present. Something was deliberately sustaining it. Unfortunate as it is, it wasn't a spontaneous breach or a rogue awakened. Someone engineered this outbreak. Likely, them."
Ozpin folded his hands. "The Sleepless."
"Precisely."
A moment of silence followed, broken only by the hum of the holographic interface. Ozpin's gaze turned slightly toward the window, eyes reflecting the dying sun over Vale's horizon.
"They're more organized than we thought," he said softly. "When we first caught wind of them, I assumed they were another fringe group of awakened that had gone mad. But now…" He shook his head. "Creating Amalgamations deliberately? That shouldn't even be possible, at least from our research so far. You've read the report of that entity, right? The Sleeper? I believe that it's very likely that it was involved somehow."
Ironwood's eyes hardened. "That creature who sleeps eternal. Are you sure that... the information is accurate?"
"We've had much speculation before, but... this might be the clearest indication that our information from the past is true. An entity that it beyond Rank 3."
"This is... very disturbing. Do you think that the group—The Sleepless—has internal knowledge of LUCID operations."
Ozpin gave a small nod. "It's a strong possibility. Perhaps even a certainty."
Ironwood straightened his posture, hands clasped behind his back. "We've been running background checks across every branch, both military and civilian. But if what you suspect is true and if they have moles within LUCID itself—then it's not something we can root out with standard procedure. We'd be purging our own infrastructure blind."
"That, is why we must tread carefully."
Ironwood's expression darkened. "Careful isn't my preferred pace, Ozpin. We're sitting on a bomb we can't see. I'd rather detonate it before it decides to go off on its own."
Ozpin chuckled faintly. "And yet that approach has a way of… leaving rather large craters. Especially considering what might happen."
Ironwood's hologram gave him a flat look. "You always did prefer patience over decisive action."
"I prefer survival," Ozpin replied mildly, taking a sip of his coffee. "Speaking of which—perhaps you should hear what I've learned from my side."
Ironwood raised an eyebrow.
"One of my operatives," Ozpin continued, "has a personal connection to the Sleepless. His father is involved with them. This was how we got much of our information. From him."
That got Ironwood's attention. "You're certain?"
"As certain as one can be," Ozpin said dryly. "His father seems to have been deeply entangled in their creation and possibly their philosophy. Unfortunately, our operative doesn't know much himself—only fragments. But those fragments suggest something profoundly dangerous."
Ironwood's tone sharpened. "Is this father a spy within your ranks?"
Ozpin's lips curved slightly. "No. Merely a… problem." He leaned forward, the glint in his eyes catching the holographic light. "But potentially, in time, he might become an asset. If we play our cards right."
Ironwood frowned. "That's a dangerous game. You're betting on a man tied to an enemy we barely understand."
"It's the only game worth playing when the rules are hidden," Ozpin replied.
Ironwood opened his mouth as if to press the matter, then stopped. He looked to the side, his projection flickering slightly as the connection wavered. "Can you send me the operative's name? I'd like to cross-reference our data—"
"No," Ozpin interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "It's best we don't share names, not over these channels."
Ironwood's brow furrowed.
"There have been too many incidents," Ozpin explained. "Too many breaches and too many unexplained leaks. The Sleepless appeared to emerge out of nowhere—like ghosts slipping through the cracks of our own communications. For all we know, this conversation is also being monitored. Information regarding potential informants or internal agents must remain on a need-to-know basis."
Ironwood exhaled through his nose, tension visible in the way his hologram's shoulders rose and fell. "So that's where we are now—suspecting our own lines."
"I'm afraid so."
Another silence stretched between them. This one heavier.
Ozpin rose from his chair, moving toward the window, his silhouette outlined against the dusky skyline. Below, the faint lights of Vale flickered to life—warm and ordinary, a stark contrast to the cold topic at hand.
"James," Ozpin said, voice quieter now, contemplative, "you asked me once whether I thought this world could truly be free of this world of nightmares."
Ironwood's hologram shifted slightly. "I remember."
Ozpin's reflection in the glass smiled faintly. "It seems the nightmares have found ways to dream back."
Ironwood didn't respond for several seconds. When he did, his tone was flat. "You think Sleepless is trying to replace LUCID?"
"No," Ozpin said. "I think they're trying to surpass it." He turned, his gaze steady. "They've found a method to create new awakened—without the natural age threshold of fourteen. That changes everything. Imagine entire populations of artificially awakened—unbounded by our Dream Law, unrestricted by age or limitation. If they've mastered that, then the number of potential recruits they could produce is… astronomical."
Ironwood's eyes widened slightly. "That would explain the surge of runic activity that we've been tracking across multiple regions."
"Exactly," Ozpin said. "And it would also explain the Amalgamation incidents. Artificial awakenings... without the proper conditioning, the human psyche fractures and the Sleepless might be experimenting or even trying to refine their process. Each outbreak could be a test run."
Ironwood's jaw tightened. "If that's the case, then we can't afford to wait. We should be mobilizing now. Identify their cells, cut off their resources, strike hard and fast before they can stabilize the process."
Ozpin shook his head. "War would be premature, James. We're not fighting an army—we're fighting an idea. And ideas don't die under gunfire. They scatter, take root elsewhere, and grow again in the shadows."
Ironwood's tone hardened. "And what do you propose instead? Observation? Containment? Diplomacy?"
"Understanding," Ozpin said simply. "We don't yet comprehend what the Sleepless truly wants. Only that it somehow involves that entity. Power, control, transcendence—all of these are possibilities. But if we move blindly, we risk playing into their design. You've seen it before in the real world—enemy groups that manipulate their opponents into escalating conflict prematurely. It wouldn't surprise me if the Sleepless thrives on chaos."
Ironwood's image folded his arms. "And what if they already have a Rank 3 leading them?"
Ozpin's expression darkened. "Then every plan we make may already be compromised."
A beat.
"I pray they don't," Ozpin murmured, "but given their success in producing awakened artificially, the likelihood is high. A Rank 3 would possess the will and power needed to anchor such experiments. If Sleepless truly has one among them… they're not just a threat, James. They're a revolution waiting to happen."
Ironwood's projection dimmed slightly as he leaned forward. "Then what's our next move?"
Ozpin turned back toward the holo-screen, his gaze calm but resolute. "For now, we continue our investigations quietly. Strengthen internal security, but don't draw attention. If Sleepless suspects we're onto them, they'll vanish again. I'll handle the Vale sector personally."
Ironwood nodded slowly. "And Atlas?"
"Keep your Ace Ops sharp," Ozpin said. "You may need them sooner than you think."
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AN: Advanced chapters up to 10 are available on patreon