My name is Winston Taurus. The Mistral refugees and I have been on this ship to Vale for about three days now. Med bay is cramped with sick, injured, or dead. People are worried as all hell about so many things. The sudden war, killer trees, possibly more trouble over in Vale. And here I am stealing people's stuff when they leave their cabins.

It's night time, and I'm now in the far back of the ship. Much less people here at this time. Lately, I've noticed some kid that has a very neat looking cane. Might be worth a lot once we hit Vale. It doesn't look like he's gonna let go of it, though. At least, when he's awake.

Creep through the halls, a couple doors down and take a right. Door locked? Nope. Morons. I open the door as slowly as possible to prevent making noise. Thank god they oil these hinges. It's dark inside, little bit of moonlight coming in through a port window. My faunus eyes help me see in the dark, though. Room looks clean, overall-

You: Get to the fucking point!

I spot the kid that carries the cane everywhere, fast asleep. And on the nightstand close by sits the thing I'm looking for. It takes me a few minutes of slowly walking, pausing every so often when he moves in his sleep, before making it close enough to grab it.

The moment I even touched the damn thing, my whole arm suddenly feels like it's on fire. Letting go in shock, I stumble back and hit a desk nearby. Causing a VERY loud ruckus. The kid suddenly wakes up and soon spots me. Not wasting time, I ditched the cane and made a run for the door. I would have made it, if it weren't for this old guy with booze on his breath that showed up. I think it was bourbon. He must have been slightly sober, because the moment he saw me, he tried to-

You rip your hand from Winston's head and take a step back, pacing about in the empty room. You try your damndest not to pop the little bastard's head with your OP mind powers. Floating before you, red hair with small horns popping out and blue eyes, Winston sports a dizzying look from your brain probing.

You: Fuck it, I'm skimming through. Grit your teeth!

Placing your hand back on Winston's head, almost covering half his face, you exert more energy and just steam role through his memories. It is not pleasant for the poor kid.

Winston: That Qrow guy tried to stop me but I was able to over power him. Before I could run I got knocked out by that Oscar kid and tied up. A few questions and promise of not being arrested later, he let me join his little merry band of underaged soldiers. After some teenage bonding moments we became friends and I got assigned to check out some place where unchecked bullheads are coming and going, and bring back anything or anyone valuable. And that's why I'm here. My brain feels watery.

You remove your hand, smoke steaming from Winston's face. The right eye now bloodshot. Disconnecting your magic, the boy falls to the ground as you step aside to think.

You: Shit. That child molester is getting wise with me. Need to throw him off, somehow.

Winston, kinda forgotten at the moment, slowly gets to his feet as he stares at the ground.

Winston: Heh. So you managed to pry out my secret mission with your wicked magic.

You: Oh hey, your still alive?

Winston: So I bet you want to know my backstory. How I came to be the broken soul I am now.

You:...... No, I honestly don't. So how 'bout you go lie down and die.

Winston: Alright, fine, twist my arm. It all started when I was born.

You: Dammit all.

Winston: Throughout my early youth, I've always been treated as unwanted.

You: You're unwanted now.

Winston: Ever since my mother died giving birth to me, my father tried his best to raise me probably. But then he figured I'd be much more useful as a child soldier for the White Fang.

You: Oh right, you're a faunus. Forgot about that.

Winston: Day in and day out, he put me through torturous training to make me worth a damn. To be a perfect weapon.

You: One, he obviously failed. Two, perfection ain't exactly you mortal's strongest quality.

Winston: But it wasn't enough. It was never enough for that power hungry bastard.

You: What's wrong with having a little craving?

Winston: So he and the White Fang locked me up. Hoping I'd just rot away. But I escaped.

You: I can tell.

Winston: Oh yes, I escaped. And I have vowed to seek revenge on not only the White Fang, but on my bastard of a father. Adam Taurus.

You: I think I killed a guy named Adam a few months ago.

Winston: So, now you know everything.

You: And I didn't want to. But since we're on the topic, I have maybe one or two questions.

Winston suddenly charges at you with a hidden shiv. Leaping at you, he digs the sharp piece of plastic into your neck with a battle cry. He bellows out the cry for a few more seconds before seeing that you're not moving an inch.  You grab a hold of his neck and pull him off, holding him at arms length. Squeezing a little hard.

You: First off, how old was your dad when you were conceived? 'Cause I have the slightest suspicion that Adam Taurus wasn't even a teen yet when he banged your mom.

That just raises even more questions.

You: Second, this Oscar kid. Short fuck, dark hair, overalls, sort of farmer complexion, carrying a clockwork cane?

Winston: "choke""grunt"wheeze"

You: That's what I thought.

You let Winston go, making him crumble to the ground as he coughs and catches his breath.

You: Exactly how much do you know about him?

Winston: "cough" Why would I-

You: It was a rhetorical question  I read your mind, so I know everything you know. Which made your dramatic backstory all the more pointless. Now, you know that Oscar is the leader of this little rag tag team of failed abortions that you joined. Which you never bothered to wonder how or why a fourteen year old boy has acquired such a position. Setting that thought aside; have you ever noticed anything off about him?

Winston: What do you mean?

You: His strangely mature demeanor, how he holds himself as some wise man that knows all, in training sessions as he somehow fights like he's had years of experience to whoop your ass into shape. None of that seemed off to you coming from a kid in his early teens?

Winston:....... He's a child prodigy?

You: Oh for fuck sake. The little shit has two souls! One his own, the other belonging to one Professor Ozpin.

Winston: Professor O-Wait a minute. Didn't he die back in Beacon?

You: Well, I guess you don't know that much. It makes sense after all, you can't be trusted with such things anyway.

Winston: The fuck does that mean?! Maybe he just wasn't ready to tell me!

You: He's already told everyone else he's known. Besides, why would he tell such a secret to the son of Adam fucking Taurus. I mean, sins of the father and all that, you know?

Winston: I'm not.... Why should I believe anything you say, anyway? You could just be pulling my leg to manipulate me!

You: Winston, I am very open about manipulating people. Hell if I'm able to turn you, which I will, I'll be doing the manipulation immediately. Besides, you should be used to it by now from OscarOzpin. Ozcar? Ospin?

Winston: What?

You: You were sent here to try and find where these mysterious bullheads are coming from and bring back possible enemy leaders. Alone. Who sent you? Ozpin. You arrived in a hellish barren wasteland filled with nothing but hostile creatures that would use you as an appetizer. Who knew this? Ozpin. Top it all off, with no back up, no retrieval plan, no means of contact, and no way of knowing if you would succeed. You know why?

Winston:...... Because they are aware of my skills and trust me with this mission?

You: Because you are expendable, Winston. To them, you're worth losing if you fail. Success is just a surprise bonus. You've been tricked into thinking that you would be doing any good for them. For Oscar. For Ozpin.

Winston just stares at you. Trying to come up with a counter argument to prove you wrong.

You decide to push it a little further.

You: Ozpin has been around for much longer than you could imagine. Several centuries, to be exact. All those years he has done nothing but manipulate people. All while wearing a mask of hope and trust. And you fell for it just like your daddy's love.

And just like that, Winston becomes lost for words. Either from you being somewhat right or out of anger. Maybe both.

You: Yes, he does some good for the world by killing monsters, stopping criminals, and trying to rebuild the world when something burns down. How? By recruiting children for other purposes than what he tells them, withholding truths to those that trust him, and tricking naive little kids like you into thinking you're special in a world that just does. Not. Care.

And with that, you have crushed the hopes and dreams of little Winston. Nothing new really, but you feel satisfied as you watch him hold back tears... Now, for the killing blow.

You kneel down to Winston's height as you place your hand on his shoulder, all supportive like.

You: Sucks, don't it? That feeling you get when you realize you're only being used for your skills and body, and not you're characteristics or personality. Makes you wanna give up on life and kill yourself... Or, get payback?

Winston looks up and stares at you with curiosity. Platonic curiosity.

You: Now you have no reason to trust a single word I say, but what if I told you that you can have your cake AND eat it as well? To not only get the fulfillment of fighting the good fight, but also the satisfaction of revenge on those that wronged you.

As Winston thinks your words over, you pour a bit of your magic through your hand as your still holding his shoulder. Like hell he has a choice in the matter. His eye go pitch black for a second before returning to normal. He soon looks you in what is considered your eyes with a small smile.

Winston: What do you wish of me?

You: First off, stop smiling, you look like a child molester. And I mean the kind that is a child who molests people. Secondly, you're gonna be completing your little mission.

Winston: Complete it? What, are you coming with me?

You: Fuck no.

[Thirty minutes later]

Sitting inside a bullhead, the two new comers take a seat as they prepare to leave. Winston, now filled with a little bit of new purpose, and Jason Cage, the well dressed supernatural soul collector. The older one sports a confused look as you stand just outside.

Jason: Why do I have to be the prisoner in this?

You: Because you annoy me. Also, do you remember that time many years ago when you punted me through a mountain, I almost killed you afterwards and in exchange for your life you'd do me a solid?

Jason: Yeah?

You: Consider me cashing in that solid. You're going as Winston's prisoner and act as the mastermind behind this whole war. Keep your head down and make up some bullshit to any questions they have. After a few days, you two are to start tearing shit up and absolutely destabilize their operations. Any questions?

Jason: Several.

You: Too bad. Have fun, my little scapegoat!

You slam the siding door shut and bash your fist on the hull to signal the pilot. The bullhead takes off and leaves you standing where you are as you watch it fly away.

You: And that is how you get rid of unwanted house guests...! "siiiiiiigh" Fuck me. We're gonna have to make a chapter about how I met that guy, aren't we?

As you contemplate suicide, you spot a bulky object flying in.

You: Is that a flying train car?

Taking a step back as it pretty much crashes in front of you, you spot two familiar figures on top of the thing. Well, one of them is familiar. The other looks like the love child of the terminator and a Necron. As the giant metal box comes to a violent stop, the two figures soon fall down from sheer exhaustion. You float up to them to greet.

You: Congratulations, you made it back alive and successful! You both look like hell.

The Grimmified she-warrior known as Pyrrha is on her hands and knees sweating bullets. Black syrupy blood leaking from her nose and drenching her chest.

Pyrrha: Carrying this thing... "coughsupblood" Was a lot more strenuous than I thought.

Glancing over to Megatron's side chick, you see Penny has lost a majority of her fake skin. Her metal frame bent and warped not bad enough to look like a chromed abomination, but bad enough to look funny as hell.

Penny: [Salutations, Father! Your mystery package has been retrieved, and we've only sustained minimal injuries!]

You: Spectacular. Drag Pyrrha to the nearest bed so she can rest up. After that, get your shiny metal ass to the basement so I can patch you up.

Penny: [Can do.]

She gives you a little salute and picks Pyrrha up bridal style, the latter voicing her protests to this. As they hop off the disconnected train and head inside, you descend to ground level and make your way to one of the train's doors. Heavily fortified and obviously locked to high hell. Not even Pyrrha could rip this open with her semblance... You wave a hand over the door and use a bit of your energy. Within seconds, rust begins to form as the door slowly warps out of shape. Creaking metal echoes out as gaps around the edges start to form. Finally, with a violent snap, the now unfamiliar door simply swings open as the rusty hinges squeak loudly.

You grab a hold of the ruined door and open it all the way as you step inside. Needing to kneel down a bit just to prevent your head from hitting the ceiling. Finally in, you look around the interior and spot several metal crates scattered about. About a dozen at most. Some broken open, others still sealed shut. The ones that are open reveal their contents to being a large assortment of goodies. Gold bars, weapons, strange tech, precious minerals, all that crap.

You walk past all these resources that would set a warlord for life in search for something else. Kicking aside a stray gold bar in your path. Extending your magic, you try to sense the one thing you sent your little minions to fetch. After a minute of searching, you come across one lonely box bolted to the floor in the far corner, simply radiating with energy.

Very familiar energy.

Kneeling down to one knee, you take a closer look at the metal box and see that there is a code lock on it. Wasting no time, you grab a hold of the small device and rip it from the box. Metal and circuitry easily crushed in your grip. The wires from the digital lock let out a few sparks before dying out as you toss it aside.

With the lock destroyed and gone, you simply grab the small door and slowly open it. Peering inside.

You: There you are.

Laying on a little silk pillow sits a well decorated crown. Three prongs jutting from the top front to make it look more fancy.

You could care less what it looks like. With the power it's emanating, all that matters is what it is.

The Relic of Choice.

One of the four pieces ripped from your very being by your own sons many centuries ago.

You: One down, three to go.

----

Somewhere in Vale, within a super secret fort, now on fire, a lone soldier rushes through its corridors. Bruised and slightly bloodied. He rushes to a large metal door and punches in a code. Messing up a few times, he gets the door open and rushes in. Slamming the door behind him. He leans his back against it as he tries to catch his breath.

Banana: Daga mü.

The soldier snaps his attention downward and spots a banana with cartoonish arms and legs. While also wearing a vest. A beeping vest. A beeping vest that says TNT on it.

Banana: Allahu banana!

Just outside the door, two giant figures walk over in time to see said door fly off its hinges from an explosion. The zips past between them as they just keep walking and make it inside. The room they are now in seems to be a fairly large computer room. Parts of it now covered in gore and mashed banana.

p0zi0ner: Heh. Suicide banana bombers. Works everytime.

Warlider: Remember, we're looking for anything related to Vytal Remembrance as Regret fends off the reinforcements.

p0zi0ner: Why does he get to do the fun part?

Warlider: Because he called dibs. Now stop whining and start searching.

As they begin their glorified Easter Egg Hunt, Regret is outside killing off Vale soldiers with an M2 Browning he found. All with a big smile on his face.

Regret: I'm having a wonderful time!