Ozpin sat behind his desk in the uppermost office of the LUCID underground complex, pen moving steadily across the air while a holo-tablet projected its contents to him about latest wave of deployment authorizations. The room was quiet and insulated from the constant motion of the hangar base behind his window. Soft light spilled in from recessed panels, reflecting off shelves lined with old binders and newer data slates alike. The scent of tea lingered faintly in the air, long since cooled and forgotten at the corner of his desk.
His expression was calm, composed, the familiar mask that most believed to be permanent. Yet beneath it, his thoughts churned. Belmont City lingered in his mind like an unresolved equation. And Sleepless. The dreadful terrorist group, Sleepless.
A knock sounded at the door.
Ozpin did not look up. He lifted one hand slightly and the door swung open at once, hinges moving without sound. A LUCID scientist stepped inside, posture straight, eyes respectful. He paused just inside the threshold.
"Director Ozpin," the man said. "We have some interesting results."
Ozpin set the pen down and folded his hands atop the desk. "Show me."
The scientist inclined his head and turned. Ozpin rose smoothly from his chair and followed, coat settling around him as they exited the office and moved into the broader corridors of the research wing. The air grew cooler as they descended, the hum of machinery replacing the distant echoes of the hangar. Personnel stepped aside as they passed, conversations faltering briefly in deference before resuming.
They entered one of the largest research labs LUCID possessed, a circular chamber reinforced with layered barriers and runic suppression fields. Inside, a mix of awakened and non awakened personnel stood at various stations, eyes fixed on the center of the room.
The pylons stood there.
Tall and metallic. Each one was connected to an array of instruments, cables snaking outward like roots as monitors displayed fluctuating readings. The faint outline of runes etched into their surfaces glimmered under the lab lights.
Qrow was already present, arms crossed, posture loose but eyes sharp. He nodded once at Ozpin's arrival.
The scientist gestured toward the pylons. "We began by isolating the imbued rune structure," he said. "Specifically the Perpetuity imprint."
"We discovered something unexpected," the scientist continued. "The Perpetuity rune is actively converting aura."
Ozpin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Converting?"
"Yes," the man said. "Not draining but transforming. When aura is introduced into the system, it does not dissipate. Instead, it replenishes the foundational energy within the pylons."
One of the technicians brought up a comparison chart on a nearby screen. Readings scrolled rapidly, overlapping with archived data.
"We confirmed the signature with Qrow," the scientist said, glancing toward him. "The runic energy output appears to be identical to what Arias was using."
Qrow uncrossed his arms briefly to point at the display. "Same frequency and feeling. No deviation."
Ozpin studied the data. "His displacement rune?"
"Yes," the scientist replied. "Which is where it becomes troubling, because there is no imbued Displacement rune within the pylons. We verified that multiple times."
He swallowed, then continued. "In essence, the Perpetuity rune is automatically transforming all incoming aura into the runic energy of Displacement."
A murmur rippled through the lab.
Ozpin closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. "And the Perpetuity imprint is not fading?"
"No, sir," the scientist said. "It should have disappeared by now. By all known principles, an imbued rune of that complexity should have burned itself out after sustained activation."
"But it has not," Ozpin said quietly.
"No."
Ozpin nodded once. "That aligns with theory, then. Perpetuity at Master level does not simply extend duration. Instead, it redefines it. Meta runes at that tier no longer behave as tools, rather as rules."
The room fell silent at that.
Ozpin turned his attention back to the scientist. "Was there anything else?"
The man hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. This was only the beginning."
He gestured to a technician standing at one of the control terminals. "Activate the pylons."
Keys were pressed. Switches engaged. For a heartbeat nothing happened.
Then the pylons lit up.
Light crawled along their etched surfaces, runes flaring into visibility as arcs of energy leapt between them. The hum deepened, vibrating through the floor and into the bones of everyone present. Instruments spiked as readings surged beyond baseline expectations.
Ozpin felt it immediately.
Space bent.
Not violently or catastrophically, yet it folded inward like fabric being carefully pinched between fingers. The air at the center of the array shimmered and reality lost its certainty as depth and distance blurred.
The light between the pylons intensified, then twisted.
At first it looked like a mirage, a ripple of heat in empty air. Then the ripple tore.
Instruments screamed in protest, their readings spiking into incoherent chaos before stabilizing once more.
The tear widened.
Darkness spilled through, thick and oppressive, carrying with it a pressure that made several of the non awakened personnel instinctively step back. The interior of the rift was not empty. It was layered. Depth folded over depth, like looking through stacked panes of broken glass.
Ozpin's frown deepened.
Beyond the tear stretched a skyline that did not belong to the waking world. Ruined silhouettes clawed at a blood stained sky. Streets lay fractured and hollow, swallowed by shadow. The air beyond shimmered with drifting motes of pale red moonlight and distant, slow moving fog.
The Dream Realm.
This was not and echo or a projection. This was no simulation or illusion.
It was a window.
Qrow let out a low breath. "Yeah. If we weren't sure before, we gotta be sure now. That's not something Dragon Gang is able to pull off. Which means..."
The pylons thrummed steadily now, arcs of energy weaving between them in a controlled lattice. The Perpetuity rune burned bright along their surfaces, unwavering, eternal in its defiance of decay.
Ozpin stared into the tear, his expression unreadable.
"It means that if it wasn't Dragon gang, then the only one left that could pull this off was sleepless. And the Sleepless group wasn't merely inducing artificial Nightmare Zones," he said quietly. "They were building doors."
.
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Ruby sat on the edge of the couch with her hood pooled around her shoulders like a discarded thought, hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. The lights were on, but dimmed, casting long, tired shadows across the familiar walls. The place smelled faintly of dust and old cooking oil, the scent of home turned strangely hollow in the aftermath of Belmont.
Yang leaned against the kitchen counter a few steps away, arms folded, eyes unfocused. Her usual restless energy was gone. No tapping foot. No drumming fingers. Just stillness, heavy and brittle.
Neither of them spoke at first.
The silence pressed in, thick with things that had no shape yet still demanded space. Images replayed in Ruby's mind whether she wanted them to or not. The ruined streets. The collapsed buildings.
And worse than that.
The Flesh monster and the deaths of all those people.
Ruby swallowed hard and stared at the floor.
"That thing," she said quietly. "The one with the Coalesce rune."
Yang's jaw tightened. She nodded once, slow. "Yeah."
Ruby squeezed her hands together harder. "I keep thinking about how it moved. Like it was dragging everything it had stolen with it. All those lives..."
Yang shut her eyes.
They had both seen it. LUCID operatives fighting with discipline and desperation, only to be caught, absorbed, pulled apart piece by piece. Flesh stripped and folded into the rune like meat into a grinder that never stopped turning. Not death. Not clean. Just consumption.
The only reason that they hadn't died like that was because Raven had stopped them from recklessly charging in and getting themselves killed as well.
"People don't die like that," Ruby whispered. "They're not supposed to."
Yang pushed off the counter and crossed the room, sitting beside her sister. The couch dipped slightly under her weight.
"Sleepless knew exactly what they were doing," Yang said, voice low. "Even if they were trying to save that girl... they went too far. Those bastards... they're animals."
Ruby nodded numbly. "Jaune said they wanted to wake her. The Sleeper." She hesitated before continuing. "A god that hates all life."
The words felt wrong in her mouth. Too big. Too final.
Yang leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what's worse," she muttered. "That they believe in her. Or that they're willing to slaughter good men and women just to prove a point. And the Amalgamations too. Hah! They're a group murderous cultists."
Ruby thought of Jaune standing there earlier, shoulders slumped, eyes darker than she had ever seen them. "Im the son of a murderer." The way he had said it so flatly, like it was a fact he had finally accepted rather than a wound he was still processing.
She felt something twist painfully in her chest.
"They took so many lives," Ruby said. "Not just in the Dream. In the real world too. Families. Friends. People who didn't even know what was happening during the incidents..."
Yang's hands clenched into fists. "It doesn't make sense. Why do they want to die as well? If the Sleeper or whatever wakes up, then all life ends... so why?"
Silence settled again
Ruby didn't have an answer.
Yang shifted closer, then reached out and wrapped her arms around Ruby from behind, pulling her into a firm embrace. Ruby stiffened for a moment before melting back against her sister's chest.
Yang rested her chin lightly on the top of Ruby's head.
"You know... I really miss Mom," Yang said softly.
The words cracked something open.
Ruby's breath hitched. She closed her eyes, the image of Summer Rose rising unbidden. A smile that always felt like sunlight. A presence that made the world feel safer simply by existing.
"Yeah," Ruby whispered. "Me too."
Yang held her tighter. "I keep thinking about what she would've said. What she'd do if she saw all this. Gods. Sleepless. Monsters wearing human faces."
Ruby sniffed. "She'd probably tell us to keep moving. To help who we can."
Yang let out a shaky laugh. "Sounds like her."
They stayed like that for a while, clinging to each other in the dim living room while the weight of everything pressed down on them.
Eventually, Ruby shifted slightly. "Do you think we should call Dad?"
Yang's arms loosened, though she didn't let go right away. "Dad's out there dealing with Nightmare Zones every other week," she said. "And he's supposed to be a semi retired operative. Or retired already... or whatever. In any case, apparently that's a joke when you're Rank 2."
Ruby nodded. "He should know, though."
Yang sighed and finally released her, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah. He should. I just don't want to be the one to tell him that the world is somehow worse than he remembers."
Ruby stared down at her hands again. "He'd worry."
"He always does," Yang said, softer now. "Especially about you."
Ruby smiled faintly at that, though it didn't reach her eyes.
Another silence stretched out, thinner this time but still fragile.
Yang broke it first. "You think Jaune has anyone to talk to?"
Ruby looked up.
Yang rubbed the back of her neck. "I mean… his dad. He trusted him. And now apparently he's a part of Sleepless? That he's responsible for… all of this?"
She gestured vaguely, as if the sheer scale of the tragedy couldn't be properly pointed at.
"I know he's tough," Yang continued. "But nobody just shrugs that off."
Ruby's chest tightened.
She thought of Jaune standing alone, staring at the ground. Of his forced calm. Of the way his voice had gone hollow when he talked about his father.
Ruby suddenly slapped her cheeks, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room.
Yang blinked. "Ruby?"
Ruby took a deep breath, then another, pulling air into her lungs like she was resetting herself. When she exhaled, some of her usual spark flickered back into her eyes.
"You're right," Ruby said firmly. "We can't just sit here feeling sorry for ourselves."
Yang raised an eyebrow. "That's a fast turnaround."
Ruby stood up, tugging her hood back into place. "We're not the only ones hurting. Jaune is probably dealing with way more than we are. And he didn't even get a chance to fall apart."
Yang studied her sister for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You're doing the thing."
"The thing?"
"Where you decide you're fine so you can help someone else."
Ruby shrugged. "Someone has to."
Yang stood up too. "Yeah. And we're his friends."
Ruby nodded. "So we show up."
Yang slipped on her jacket, movements slow but purposeful.
As they headed for the door, the heaviness didn't disappear. The deaths. The Sleepless. The Sleeper herself. All of it still loomed like a storm on the horizon.
But they weren't facing it alone. And neither was Jaune.
That had to count for something.
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon