Chương 89: Chapter 82: The Station of Crossroads

Two days had passed since the climactic, earth-shattering events at Haven Academy. The long, winding journey north had finally brought Ozpin's vanguard to the sprawling, bustling transit hub of the Mistral Central Station. The sprawling concourse of the Argus Limited train station was an architectural marvel, a colossal transit hub where the traditional, elegant curves of Animan design met the cold, functional steel of modern engineering.

The air was a chaotic symphony of hissing steam valves, the heavy, rhythmic clacking of train cars on iron rails, and the overlapping, bustling chatter of thousands of commuters. High above the sea of merchants, travelers, and Huntsmen, massive holographic screens flickered with a soft, cyan glow. The departure boards rapidly cycled through an endless list of distant, exotic locations across the continent: Wind Path, Kuchinashi, Shion, Argus, Vale.

However, tucked away in a high-end, heavily heated clothing boutique near the station's primary boarding terminals, a completely different kind of struggle was unfolding.

"I look like a ridiculous, oversized blueberry." The curtain of the fitting room was forcefully yanked open. Saitama stepped out, his face a perfectly flat, unblinking oval of profound, soul-crushing misery. He was currently squeezed into a heavily insulated, bright blue Atlesian snowsuit that puffed out so comically he could barely put his arms to his sides. Standing a few feet away, her arms crossed critically over her chest, Neopolitan slowly shook her head.

She raised a delicate, gloved hand and gave a firm, exaggerated thumbs-down.

"See? Even she hates it," Saitama grumbled, struggling to peel the thick, waterproof collar away from his neck.

"And it's incredibly hot in here. Why do people in Atlas wear so many layers? It's just cold air. You just flex your muscles and ignore it." Sitting on a velvet lounge chair near the display window, Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc shared a highly awkward, sympathetic chuckle.

"You can't just 'ignore' sub-zero temperatures, Saitama," Jaune reasoned, rubbing the back of his neck as his newly reinforced armor clinked softly against the chair.

"Atlas is a frozen tundra. Plus, Headmistress Glynda and General Ironwood were super clear. You can't wear the yellow suit. It's way too recognizable. If you step off the ship in Solitas wearing bright yellow spandex and a white cape, Salem's faction will spot you in three seconds."

"Yeah, and then the Atlesian media will swarm you again! We need to keep you incognito!" Ruby added, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Oh man, if Coco were here right now, she would be having the absolute time of her life. She'd probably buy out the entire store just to dress you up!"

"Ugh... That fashion lady would make me crazy," Saitama shuddered, a massive, comical sweatdrop forming on his bald head. He had survived many horrifying things in his life, but the image of the minigun-wielding fashionista forcing him into a three-hour runway montage was a nightmare that rivaled any monster. Neo snapped her fingers, drawing Saitama's attention. She pointed her parasol aggressively toward a neat stack of sleek, dark fabrics she had personally selected from the premium racks.

She gestured sharply toward the fitting room. Get back in there. Saitama let out a sigh so incredibly heavy it fluttered the price tags on the nearby scarves.

"This is the sixth outfit. I'm a hero, not a mannequin. My karma is completely ruined." He grabbed the stack of clothes and trudged miserably back into the fitting room, pulling the heavy velvet curtain shut. For the next ten minutes, the boutique echoed with the sounds of shuffling fabric, annoyed grunts, and the occasional thud of a boot hitting the wall.

Ruby and Jaune watched the curtain with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion, while Neo tapped her heel rhythmically against the polished floorboards, her heterochromic eyes locked on the dressing room like a strict director waiting for her star actor. Finally, the curtain slid back. Saitama stepped out onto the showroom floor. The transformation was jarring. Gone was the garish, blinding yellow spandex and the red rubber boots. He was now clad in a meticulously tailored, sharp black dress suit.

The dark trousers fit perfectly, paired with a crisp black vest over a charcoal undershirt. To combat the freezing Atlesian climate, Neo had selected a heavy, pristine white trench coat. It hung open over his broad shoulders, the thick, high-quality fabric cascading down to his calves, subtly mirroring the silhouette of his iconic white cape while remaining entirely formal and appropriate for the elite streets of Atlas.

"Well?" Saitama stood there, adjusting the stiff cuffs of the trench coat, looking remarkably sharp, imposing, and undeniably elegant. Ruby's silver eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Whoa... Saitama! You look... you look like a secret agent!"

"Yeah, honestly? That's a really solid look," Jaune agreed, standing up from his chair with a nod of genuine approval.

"It totally fits the Atlas aesthetic. You look like one of their high-end corporate security executives. No one is going to look twice at you walking down the street." Neo leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she evaluated his new attire. Her pink and brown eyes swept over the black suit and the heavy white coat. A slow, genuinely satisfied smirk stretched across her face. She gave a definitive, approving thumbs-up.

"Great. Can we buy it and leave now?" Saitama asked, stretching his neck uncomfortably against the collar.

"This material is way too stiff. I can't even raise my arms above my head without feeling like the seams are going to rip. I never had to deal with this fashion stuff back in my home universe. A tracksuit was all you needed."

"You'll get used to it," Jaune assured him.

"But... wait. The outfit is great, but we still have one major problem." Jaune gestured vaguely toward the top of his own head.

"The, uh... the shine." Saitama's dotted eyes narrowed into flat lines.

"The what?"

"Your head, Saitama," Ruby said, giggling nervously as she hid her smile behind her hand.

"It's, um... very recognizable. Maybe we should look into getting you a wig? Just a simple one!" The absolute, blood-curdling terror that seized Saitama's face was instantaneous. All the color drained from his features, leaving him in a stark, heavily-shaded monochrome of pure dread.

"NO WIGS," Saitama practically shouted, his voice cracking comically as he crossed his arms into a massive 'X' in front of his chest. His mind violently hurled him backward to his traumatic experiences in Mistral. He remembered the agonizing, unbearable itchiness of the cheap brown synthetic hairpiece he had worn in the criminal underground. Worse, he remembered the horrifying incident in the commercial district of Vale.

The sheer, traumatic memory of a stray, handsome black wig perfectly landing on his head, transforming him into an accidental supermodel. The flashing cameras. The screaming civilians. And the apocalyptic mob of Beacon First-Year students hunting him down through the courtyard with bottles of hair-growth serum and premium conditioner.

"Absolutely not!" Saitama yelled, taking a defensive step backward.

"I am never putting fake hair on my head ever again! My scalp needs to breathe! If I have to wear a wig, I'd rather just freeze in the snow!" Ruby held her hands up defensively, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay! Okay! No wigs! I promise!" Neo stood perfectly still, watching Saitama's dramatic, panicked refusal. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully with her gloved hand, her heterochromic eyes drifting from the incredibly sharp, imposing lines of his black suit and white trench coat, up to the completely bare, gleaming surface of his bald head. Slowly, her gaze shifted upward. She reached up, her delicate fingers brushing against the brim of the pristine bowler hat resting perfectly atop her own dual-colored hair.

Roman's hat. The singular, precious relic of the only person who had ever truly mattered to her. The man who had given her a name, a purpose, and a home in the shadows. She had guarded it with her life, carrying the weight of his memory through the horrors of the Grimm invasion and the treacherous underworld of Mistral. Neo stared at the hat in her hands for a long, heavy moment. Then, she looked back at Saitama. He was currently complaining to Jaune about how the dress shoes were pinching his toes.

He was an absolute idiot. A goofy, perpetually bored man who complained about grocery prices and got extorted for ice cream. But he was also the man who had effortlessly stepped between her and a universe of monsters. The man who had patted her on the head after she exhausted herself, who carried her when she was too tired to walk, and who, without ever preaching or judging her past, made her feel an absolute, impenetrable sense of safety. Neo took a slow, quiet breath.

With a smooth, elegant motion, she lifted the bowler hat from her head. She walked over to Saitama and held the hat out toward him. Saitama paused his complaining, blinking his simple, dotted eyes as he looked down at the black felt hat with its distinctive crimson band.

"Huh? For me?" Saitama asked, his expression blank. He took the hat from her delicate hands, inspecting it with a mild, unbothered curiosity.

"Oh, a hat. Yeah, I guess this covers up the shine. It looks pretty fancy, actually. Probably better than a beanie." Without another thought, Saitama casually placed the bowler hat onto his bald head, adjusting the brim so it sat perfectly level. He stood up straight, turning back to face the group. Neo's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened to their absolute limits. The harsh, fluorescent lighting of the boutique shifted.

For a fleeting, breathless microsecond, the goofy, blank-faced hero entirely vanished. Standing before her, clad in a perfectly tailored black suit, a heavy white overcoat draped over his shoulders like a cape, and the pristine bowler hat tilted slightly forward, was a shadow of the past. The silhouette was flawless. The swagger, the coat, the hat. He looked exactly like a king of the underworld stepping into the light. It was the perfect, mirror image of Roman Torchwick. Just... bald underneath.

A profound, staggering wave of emotion crashed over Neo's chest. The suffocating, icy void of grief that had anchored her heart for months suddenly felt a fraction lighter. She stared at the man who had become her bizarre, invincible protector, seeing the legacy of her lost partner resting comfortably on his head. Neo didn't smirk. She didn't offer a theatrical, mocking bow. A breathtakingly genuine, soft smile bloomed across her face. Her heterochromic eyes shone with a quiet, undeniable warmth.

She looked at Saitama, and gave a slow, deeply respectful nod.

"Hmm..." Saitama muttered, looking at his reflection in the boutique mirror and adjusting the collar of his trench coat.

"It's definitely not aerodynamic, but if it keeps the snow off my head and stops people from staring at me, I'll take it." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. He turned back to Ruby and Jaune, his face returning to its standard, deadpan oval.

"Alright. I got the clothes. Are we ready to go find this train?"

Tucked away in a relatively quiet, cordoned-off terminal bay, far from the prying eyes of the civilian public, Qrow Branwen and Oscar Pine stood in the shadows of a massive steel pillar. Standing opposite them, radiating pristine military discipline amidst the crowded station, were Clover Ebi, Marrow Amin, and Harriet Bree. The three Atlesian operatives kept their voices low, their postures alert as they finalized the logistical handover of the shadow war.

"The Manta ship is prepped on the tarmac outside, but we are completely at maximum capacity. It is smaller than the classic ones," Clover explained, his voice a smooth, professional murmur.

"General Ironwood managed to convince the Mistral Council yesterday to officially extradite Leonardo Lionheart. He will spend the rest of his natural life rotting in a maximum-security cell in Atlas. Between my team, the three agents holding the perimeter outside, and our high-value prisoner, there simply isn't an inch of room left for your vanguard." Qrow let out a heavy sigh, taking a slow swig from his silver flask.

"Right. So we're taking the scenic route."

"General Ironwood already issued the directive," Harriet nodded, crossing her athletic arms tightly over her chest plate.

"You and the students are to board the Argus Limited train. It will take you straight to the northern coastal city of Argus."

"And once we freeze our boots off in Argus?" Qrow prompted, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

"The local military base isn't exactly known for handing out free rides to heavily armed teenagers and off-the-books operatives."

"The General is sending high-level clearance directly to the base commander, Caroline Cordovin," Marrow chimed in, his Faunus tail giving a slight, reassuring swish.

"Once she receives the authorization, she will deploy a massive Manta to ferry your entire group, along with the Relic, securely across the ocean to Atlas." Before Qrow could ask another question, the steady, rhythmic steps of polished dress shoes echoed from the main concourse. Saitama, carrying a bag with snacks that he bought from Mistral city and a cloth bag containing his iconic hero suit, stepped out of the crowd and into the terminal bay with Ruby, Jaune, and Neopolitan.

The three Ace-Ops paused mid-sentence, their eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated surprise. Saitama was completely unrecognizable from the man who had groaned about groveling for groceries. Clad in a meticulously tailored black dress suit that perfectly accentuated his posture, he wore a crisp white trench coat draped elegantly over his shoulders. Resting perfectly atop his bald head, concealing the iconic shine, was Roman Torchwick's signature bowler hat.

Neo walked casually beside him, her parasol resting on her shoulder, a smug, deeply satisfied smile playing on her lips. Clover let out a low, impressed whistle.

"Well, look at you. You look like a proper Atlesian operative now. Minus the hair, of course." Saitama reached up, adjusting the brim of the bowler hat with a red-gloved hand. His face remained a completely flat, unbothered oval.

"I much prefer the bowler hat. It breathes better." His mind briefly flashed back to the agonizingly itchy, incredibly cheap brown synthetic wig he had been forced to wear during his time in the criminal underbelly of Mistral Below. He shuddered comically, a heavy sweatdrop forming on his temple.

"Trust me. I've had enough with wigs for one lifetime." Oscar stepped forward, offering a deep, respectful nod to the Atlesian specialists.

"Thank you. To all of you, and to the agents outside. Your backup during the fallout of Haven Academy meant everything."

"We are glad to help, Oscar," Clover smiled warmly, reaching out to shake Qrow's hand.

"It's been good working with you, Qrow. Keep the kids safe on the train. Once you make it to Atlas, I'll personally introduce your group to the rest of the Ace-Ops, Vine and Elm."

"Looking forward to it," Qrow smirked, giving a two-finger salute. Harriet and Marrow offered their own respectful nods to the group before turning to follow Clover toward the exit gates. As they walked away, Clover glanced back over his shoulder, offering a playful, familiar salute to the man in the trench coat.

"See you around, Sheriff of Shion." Saitama stared blankly at their retreating backs, completely unfazed by the military respect.

"See you back, noodle-cops."

In a quieter, sunlit corner of the station near the grand observation windows, the atmosphere was thick with a much heavier, emotional resonance. Blake Belladonna stood facing her parents, Ghira and Kali. Beside them stood Ilia Amitola. The chameleon Faunus held her travel bag tightly against her chest, her skin a muted, nervous shade of light brown, her eyes fixed entirely on the polished floorboards.

"I still... I still don't feel like I deserve this," Ilia whispered, her voice trembling slightly with the lingering weight of her past sins. She looked up at Blake, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"The freedom you and your family granted me... after everything I did under Adam's orders. I don't feel worthy of it." Blake's expression softened. She stepped forward, reaching out to place a firm, comforting hand on Ilia's shoulder. Without her black ribbon, her feline ears twitched with a deep, profound empathy.

"You're going to have to get over it, Ilia," Blake said gently, her amber eyes burning with a fierce, reassuring light.

"Saving Haven had a huge impact on how the Faunus are seen here in Mistral. We proved that we are protectors, not destroyers. But the work isn't done. Now, it's up to you and the others to take this progress and keep running with it." Ilia stared at her former friend, the icy, radicalized guilt in her chest finally melting beneath the absolute warmth of Blake's forgiveness. Her skin shifted into a vibrant, hopeful hue of soft pink and yellow.

"Thank you," Ilia choked out, tears finally spilling over her eyelashes as she looked at Ghira and Kali.

"Thank you so much. I promise you... I will lead the Faunus here on a much better path. We will learn to coexist with humans." Unable to hold back any longer, Ilia lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Blake in a desperate, fiercely loyal hug. Blake returned the embrace, burying her face in Ilia's shoulder, a quiet smile of closure touching her lips. As Ilia stepped back to wipe her eyes, Blake turned to face her parents.

Ghira Belladonna stepped forward, his massive, imposing frame radiating nothing but absolute, paternal love. He wrapped his huge arms around his daughter, lifting her slightly off the ground in a crushing, protective hug.

"Be careful out there, Blake," Ghira rumbled, his deep voice thick with emotion as he set her down. Kali stepped up next, cupping Blake's cheeks in her delicate hands and kissing her forehead.

"We are so incredibly proud of you, sweetheart. Please, when you see him... convey our deepest thanks to Saitama once again."

"I will, Mom. I promise," Blake smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

"Take care of yourselves in Menagerie. I love you." With one final, lingering group hug, Blake turned her back on her family, her white coat snapping behind her as she walked purposefully toward the boarding terminals to rejoin her team.

Near the heavy iron boarding gates of the Argus Limited, Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, and Lie Ren stood in a loose circle, conducting a final inventory of their heavy luggage and weapon cases.

"Dust cartridges, check. Winter gear, check. Unending sense of impending doom regarding the freezing Atlas climate? Double check," Weiss muttered, checking off a digital manifest on her scroll.

"Oh, come on, Weiss! Snow means snowball fights!" Nora cheered, hoisting a massive duffel bag effortlessly over her shoulder. Blake walked up to the group, offering a warm, relaxed smile that instantly put her teammates at ease. A moment later, the rhythmic clicking of dress shoes announced the arrival of Ruby, Jaune, Neo, and Saitama.

The moment Yang's violet eyes landed on Saitama's tailored black suit and pristine white trench coat, she let out a loud, boisterous whistle, resting her hands on her hips with a massive grin.

"Whoa! Look at the cue-ball!" Yang laughed, giving him a playful nudge.

"You clean up remarkably well, Saitama! If Coco were here right now, she would be absolutely thrilled seeing you dressed like this. She'd probably make you walk a runway in the middle of the station!"

"It is a highly sophisticated aesthetic," Ren agreed mildly, nodding his approval.

"Though," Yang added, a mischievous, teasing glint flashing in her eyes, "it would be even better if we gave him a stylish wig to match the coat!" Saitama's face instantly dropped into a scowl of pure, unadulterated horror.

"No way," Saitama said, shivering comically as his mind flashed back to the deeply traumatic memories of running for his life from a horde of first-years armed with hair-growth serum and premium conditioner.

"I have had enough with wigs for one lifetime." Before Yang could tease him further, a loud, familiar voice echoed from the bustling concourse.

"Hey! Wait up!" The group turned to see Team SSSN jogging toward them, weaving through the crowded terminal. Sun Wukong led the pack, his unbuttoned white shirt catching the station lights, followed closely by Neptune Vasilias, Sage Ayana, and Scarlet David. Sun came to a halt, resting his staff casually over his shoulders. His golden eyes immediately locked onto Saitama's pristine suit and bowler hat. Sun burst into a loud, incredibly awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

"Man, look at you! I completely understand, dude. This whole 'secret identity' thing is way too much of a hassle. You look like a fancy mob boss!" Saitama blinked, adjusting his hat.

"It's just a coat, monkey kid." Ruby stepped forward, her silver eyes bright.

"Hey guys! I thought Haven Academy was initiating a total lockdown for repairs!"

"It is," Neptune explained, pushing his blue goggles up into his hair.

"Which is why we're officially relocating. Team SSSN and Team ABRN are heading to Vacuo. We're finalizing our transfer to Shade Academy for the rest of the year."

"Yeah, and get this," Sun grinned widely, pointing a thumb at his chest.

"We heard from Headmaster Theodore that our team is actually getting added with one more member when we get there."

"I think his name is Nolan," Sage said.

"Which will make us the first team of five!"

"So... What would your team be called as?" Yang furrowed her brow.

"Like... Team SSSNN? How do you even pronounce that?"

"We're still workshopping the acoustics," Scarlet sighed dryly, crossing his arms. As the teams chatted and exchanged travel logistics, Blake quietly stepped away from the main group, catching Sun's eye. The blonde Faunus immediately caught the subtle gesture, excusing himself from Sage's complaints about luggage space to walk over to her. They stood near a large, frosted glass window, the ambient noise of the station fading into the background.

"Thank you, Sun," Blake said softly, her amber eyes looking directly into his.

"For everything. For Menagerie... for Mistral. For never giving up on me." Sun's usual goofy, hyperactive demeanor melted into an expression of profound, quiet sincerity. He offered a warm, incredibly genuine smile.

"You don't have to thank me, Blake," Sun replied softly.

"Honestly... seeing you back there in the courtyard, seeing you finally reunited with the rest of Team RWBY... it motivated me. It made me realize I need to be a better team leader for my own guys. I need to step up." Blake tilted her head, a faint, melancholy frown touching her lips.

"I think I was... kind of getting used to having you around." Sun chuckled, a bittersweet, slightly sad note underlying his usual cheer. He reached out, gently tapping her shoulder.

"I go where I'm needed, Blake. And right now? You don't need me anymore. You're exactly with who you are supposed to be with now." He nodded toward Ruby, Weiss, and Yang, who were currently laughing at something Nora had said. Blake's frown deepened.

"That sounds incredibly sad."

"Hey," Sun grinned, his golden tail swishing with a sudden, returning spark of absolute confidence.

"I've got a feeling you haven't seen the last of me. We'll cross paths again." Blake stared at him for a moment. The heavy weight in her chest lifted, replaced by a deep, unwavering affection for the boy who had dragged her out of the dark. A radiant, beautiful smile broke across Blake's face.

"I certainly hope not," Blake whispered. She stepped forward, leaning in smoothly, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against Sun's cheek. Sun instantly froze. His entire body turned as stiff as a wooden board, his face erupting into a brilliant, violently bright shade of crimson that rivaled Ruby's cloak. His golden tail shot straight up into the air, completely paralyzed by the sudden display of affection.

"PASSENGERS FOR THE ARGUS LIMITED, PLEASE PROCEED TO BOARDING AT PLATFORM SEVEN. FINAL CALL FOR THE ARGUS LIMITED." The loud, mechanical voice of the station announcer echoed across the terminal, shattering the intimate moment.

"That's our cue," Jaune called out, hoisting his heavy travel pack onto his back.

"Time to go, guys!"

"Safe travels in Vacuo!" Ruby waved enthusiastically to the Mistralian team.

"See you guys again!" Sage called back, grabbing Scarlet's shoulder to steer him away from the crowds. Neptune paused near the boarding gate. He turned his head, his eyes locking onto Weiss Schnee. With a smooth, practiced charm, he offered her a confident, highly stylized wink.

"See you around, Weiss," Neptune grinned. Weiss's aristocratic composure completely disintegrated.

"S-see you around, Neptune," her pale face instantly flushed a vibrant, furious pink, her hands flying up defensively as she turned her head away to hide her face, though a deeply pleased, hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Sun, still clutching his cheek with a dazed, completely lovestruck expression, managed to snap out of his trance just as Saitama walked past him.

"Hey, Saitama!" Sun called out, finding his voice.

"Let's exchange comics again next time I see you!" Saitama paused, turning his bowler-hat-covered head. He offered a rare, genuine nod of appreciation.

"Sure thing. And hey... thanks for the Mistral banana discount. They were really good." As Saitama, Neo, Team RWBY, and Team JNPR turned to part ways, Team SSSN lingered on the concourse. Scarlet immediately leaned over, ruthlessly elbowing Sun in the ribs with a wicked smirk.

"A kiss on the cheek? You're going to frame that side of your face and never wash it again, aren't you, fearless leader?" Sun rubbed his cheek, laughing awkwardly as his golden tail wagged in a rapid, flustered rhythm.

"Hey, shut up! It was a very respectful goodbye!" Sage let out a deep, booming laugh, aggressively nudging Neptune's shoulder.

"And a wink? Really, Neptune? I'm pretty sure you just caused the Schnee heiress to completely short-circuit." Neptune crossed his arms, puffing his chest out with a proud, albeit heavily blushing grin.

"What can I say? I know how to leave an impression. It worked, didn't it?" Meanwhile, as Team RWBY and Team JNPR walked together toward the boarding ramp of the Argus Limited, the teasing commenced instantly. Yang and Nora were completely merciless.

"Oh my gosh,'See you around, Weiss'!" Yang mocked in a deep, exaggerated, suave voice, bumping her shoulder forcefully against Weiss's ribs.

"And that kiss! Blake, you sly cat!" Nora giggled maniacally, practically dancing in circles around the two blushing girls as they approached the train doors.

"Oh, shut up, both of you!" Weiss shrieked comically, her face still burning as she aggressively marched toward the ramp, secretly overjoyed that Neptune had finally noticed her again. Blake simply pulled the collar of her white coat up to hide her own glowing cheeks. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but she was completely unable to hide the warm, genuine smile resting on her lips. Saitama was walking just a few steps behind them, his white trench coat swishing gently around his calves.

He stared at the backs of the blushing, bickering, overly dramatic teenagers with a perfectly flat, unreadable oval of deadpan simplicity.

"Teenagers," Saitama muttered flatly to himself, shaking his bowler-hat-covered head in mild, exhausted disbelief. At the entrance to the train car, Qrow Branwen and Oscar Pine were waiting by the heavy iron doors. Qrow leaned against the doorframe, his crimson eyes scanning the bustling platform one last time before resting on the approaching group.

"Alright, wrap it up, kids. Is everyone ready? We've got a long, freezing ride ahead of us." Oscar stood beside him, his young face serious. He reached a hand inside his coat, his fingers gently brushing against the heavy canvas wrapping that concealed the ornate, jewel-encrusted Relic of Knowledge safely tucked away in his satchel.

"The Relic is secure," Oscar confirmed, offering Qrow and the rest of the group a firm, determined nod.

"We're ready."

"Then let's get moving," Qrow said, gesturing for the students to file inside. Qrow, Oscar, Saitama, Neo, Team RWBY, and Team JNPR stepped into the warmth of the Argus Limited's passenger car. The heavy steel doors hissed shut behind them, sealing them inside. With a final, heavy hiss of steam and the deep, vibrating blast of its horn, the Argus Limited slowly began to pull away from the station platform, carrying its impossible vanguard northward into the freezing, uncertain horizon of the Atlas Kingdom.