The Almanac of Omaks. Chapter 1.
Omak 1: Ozpin revenge.
Salem stared in disbelief at the Atlas cruiser, which flew into her tower at full speed. The car got stuck in the structure, but it seems that this was the plan, since Ozpin himself came out of the hatch knocked out by his foot, or rather jumped to the floor from a five-meter height, since for some reason there was no ladder in the tower.
— Hello! The ancient wizard shouted literally like a beast in front of his eyes. — What are you doing? We worked fine, you make monsters, I make hunters, we sit in good positions and don't bother. What the fuck is this?
— Uhm. — The Queen was taken aback for a second, but quickly regained her composure. — I don't know what you're talking about.
— I'm talking about your white wolf. He saved the maiden with silver eyes, her daughter, killed the most famous terrorist, promoted labor reforms in Atlas, rode the maiden of autumn on himself, and then got drunk with Roman Torchwick and robbed the Lighthouse with him and took out all my coffee! This inhuman act was the last straw! Do you want my death?
— Well, as if... — she tried to say "yes", but was interrupted.
— I'm not talking about the circus in Vail yet, where Urses ride unicycles and juggle balls at the same time. Some other new fashion went on and students began to insert some kind of "AUF" through the word, what does it even mean. That's it, I'm tired, you've won, I can't do this anymore. Here, hold the keys to the Beacon, I officially made you the new Headmistress, now clean up all the crap that you brewed. — Ozpin, with the help of a surprise maneuver rather than real force, shoved Salem into a flying ship and sent it to Vale on autopilot. She didn't resist much, trying to make sense of what she heard and saw, but already dozens of plans and cunning schemes appeared in her head. Fortunately, she did not know that almost all of them would be destroyed by young hunters in awl in the place below her back, and she would later become addicted to caffeine (the place of the director of Beacon, it is) and so without teaching Grimm to grow Arabica, she would spit on the cause of the destruction of mankind.
Meanwhile, Ozpin will conjure a huge fiery all-seeing eye over Salem Tower and will have fun watching the events in Vail with a pack of popcorn.
Omak 2: Little White Riding Hood and the Evil Wolf.
The heiress of the Schnee company was defeated...
maybe it would have been a worthy death if she had been from the clutches of an ancient deathstalker or a huge goliath. But it was an ordinary Beowulf, isn't it funny? HER Weiss Schni was able to defeat an ordinary wolf-like grimm in ONE blow. This is the greatest shame of the family… Maybe he was ancient, which could be recognized by looking at his eyes. In these red-glowing pools in which one could see... superiority?.. lust?..
"That bastard is still mocking me! …To the grimm, it seems that I was strongly attached to the stone that I could see emotions other than hatred in the GRIMM. It looks like this is the end." He stopped mocking her and began to approach her slowly…
The young huntress's whole life had flown by in her eyes up to this moment. She couldn't do much.… She couldn't even say goodbye to her family. because of this, moisture began to accumulate on the tips of her eyes. She understood that no one would come for her, that she had a fight with the team and ran off into the woods... alone ... a fool. Well, that's it, the face of this brute was already a meter away from her. The red eyes stared into her soul, and she squeezed her eyes shut. A second... two... and then
— the Wolf is not the one who is the wolf, the wolf is the one who is the wolf. — The Heiress heard Schnee in a rough bass voice, but with a bit of fun and seriousness.
Opening her eyes, Schnee could see what Yang would make fun of her for the rest of her life. And the thing was, Grim got up on his hind legs and lit a cigarette and went towards the sunset singing that someone might be the first ... leaving Weiss in complete fucking.
Omak 3. A true revolutionary.
— Fuck. Adam could only swear. A fifteen-year-old boy, or you could say a guy, nervously held the steering wheel of the Bullhead with one hand, trying not to pass out. The second one hung like a whip, damaged in a fight with the protective systems of the Atlas convoy. Fawn the bull was a promising swordsman, but he still lacked the skills to face off against ten heavy robots and three specialists at the same time, despite the good manifestation and skills that are sharpened daily in the hardest training.
But at least he was able to gather all the attention of the chase on himself, letting Blake, his little Blake, escape, he wanted to hope so. He was caught up with other aircraft for a very long time and persistently, until the dust index dropped to the critical point of no return and a little more after it. The military decided that he would not be able to return to civilization, Adam flew too far into the wild lands, and every moment the chances of his survival were fading before his eyes, but turning around means falling into the clutches of these racist bastards, he'd better try his luck making his way through the wild forest filled with grimm.
After making a detour, the bullhead returned to its course towards residential areas, but the engines began to howl plaintively, as if complaining about a lack of fuel, and the flying car began to descend. The landing landed softer than one would expect, Adam managed to find a clearing and fall into it, rather than crashing into one of the centuries-old trees, which would literally crush the car like a tin can. The fawn took this as a good sign, he even managed to bandage and treat the wounds, while no one scratched at the skin in search of flesh of the not so often intelligent people in these places. Having collected all the food and medicines he found and packed them into a well-placed bag, not forgetting the survival kit for pilots, which was only by a miracle not pulled out by the Beloklykovsky quartermaster from the right place, he sighed and calmed down, opened the hatch and went out into the unknown.
How much the Grimm have taken away from the sentients on this planet. Making his way through the windfall, swamps and picturesque glades, Adam inhaled the purest air, which had a special smell and even a taste. Wild, unbridled nature didn't care about the monsters inhabiting it, but fauns didn't care about nature. Being partly animals, they were very sensitive to the environmental situation around them, it was inside them. In the wild, something wild woke up in fauns, this was one of the reasons why most of the cells of the White Fang were located in uninhabited territories. It was easier for fauns to become soldiers when animal instincts awaken, especially for those who had the peculiarities of the anatomy of predators.
Adam was a bull fawn, which allowed him to enter a state of pure rage when the blood clouded his eyes, but here, in the silence of singing birds and buzzing insects, he was calm as never before. It was very good, despondency could attract a grimm, but neutral emotions were what he needed now, because unlike joy, which scared away monsters, but only when a lot of reasonable people succumbed to it, a quiet calm and meditative state allowed him to practically disappear from the perception of the grimm. In ancient times, the first settlers of new territories even used sedatives so that at the beginning of the birth of villages they would not be killed by escaped monsters.
And speaking of monsters, Grimm, despite almost a week of Adam's journey, everyone did not meet him on the way. It was pleasing, but it also raised questions. Obviously, where there are no reasonable people who attract them, there will be less concentration of those who want to tear you apart, but not to such an extent. There was a chance to stumble upon a wandering pack of Beowulfs in the wild territory about the same as a pack of wolves, rather even higher, well, unless you are in the Vacuo desert, an analogy with scorpions and desstalkers is more appropriate there.
But it seems that higher powers really exist, and they have a very bad sense of humor, since it was after these thoughts that a black silhouette with patches of white bone loomed ahead in the tall bushes. Fawn's hand was not inflamed, thank the antiseptics and antibiotics from the first-aid kit, and although moving it still caused discomfort, he recovered enough during the journey to fend off the lost Beowulfs or Ursa without any problems. But now the noise and emotions of the first clash will bring together another grimm, and then another, and another, making the passage of each next kilometer harder and harder.
Already standing in a stance, ready to take his head off his shoulders with one blow of the katana, Adam peered into the thicket, from which the monster began to emerge. Ursa came out, but unusual. If in the vicinity of the kingdoms they represented a bear strewn with plates of bones and thorns, then this one seemed to have decided to learn how to walk upright and stretched out, waddling awkwardly towards Adam, sometimes still leaning on his front paws, unable to maintain balance. The bone plates also had a more meaningful arrangement, creating the feeling of armor, rather than a split shell, as if he had put on knee pads, shoulder pads, cuirass and helmet, and spikes were basically absent. And yes, most importantly, instead of the usual red glowing eyes, his were purple, and they were echoed by splits on the bones, but recently broken and fused into this strange protective equipment.
Contrary to fawn's expectations, Grimm did not rush headlong at him, but stood up a few dozen meters away, slightly tilted his head forward and narrowed his eyes, after which, perhaps, if it did not seem, he nodded to something and, which was very unexpected, but could no longer be attributed to hallucinations, waved his paw at him, as if beckoning for him, after which he turned and began to walk back towards the shrubbery from which he had come.
This greatly confused Adam, everything that happened seemed unreal, but the question "what to do?" became more acute than ever before. Follow the strange grimm, hoping that it's not some kind of sophisticated trap, or turn sideways, making a detour just in case. He didn't want to stretch his journey, and having convinced himself that he had enough strength to cope with any unexpected situation, Adam chose the first option.
Moving along the path that the unusual Ursa trod, naturally at a respectful distance from him, after about seven hours, closer to sunset, Adam saw something through the palisade of two-meter-wide trees. Something very similar to buildings. As he got closer, he became convinced that Ursa had indeed taken him somewhere (unless you take into account that the path to the kingdoms still ran along the same route, and Adam himself would have stumbled upon these structures).
At first it seemed that there were some ancient ruins of bygone civilizations, but when viewed up close, it became obvious that the maroon-red wall with brick towers was relatively new for such structures, or it was actively cared for. Which seemed impossible, but even more impossible was what the very sensitive ears of the fawn caught. There was a noise, a noise like someone was digging and, Adam couldn't believe it, voices. The fawn stood rooted to the spot, blinking in shock and not believing his senses. As if the obsession could pass and disappear, like some kind of mocking dream.
Ursa glanced at Adam again, and headed along the wall, which went to the sides as far as the eye could see, but the young revolutionary did not want to look for the gate and poured more aura into his legs, literally waved an arrow to the wall, and then in five steps along the vertical surface, using acceleration, climbed to the top of the protective structure.
Adam saw a magical picture. Fields, fields of golden wheat stretched from horizon to horizon, cut by gravel roads interspersed with rare sheds and houses. In some places, reasonable people, fauns and humans worked, working with hoes and shovels, talking cheerfully. Does the fifth kingdom really exist? The mythical, the fruit of the delusions of the few survivors of ancient distant expeditions, a legend that gives hope that somewhere out there, in the distance, there are still intelligent ones, and not only on the pathetic patches of land occupied by existing states.
Adam jumped down from the wall, not even deigning to pay attention to the stairs, and slowly, not out of desire, but out of excitement, approaching the inhabitants of these places. He was noticed quickly enough, first staring in disbelief, and then waving happily. The guy is a fawn with signs of some kind of reptile in the form of a voluminous tail and a couple of girls dressed in simple but beautiful light dresses.
- hello! — Smiling, actively waving her hand in greeting, one of the girls greeted first. With smiles, immediately after her, Adam was greeted by her comrades.
— Hello. — Still being dumbfounded, the fawn was able to say. - And, what is this place?
— Wow! — One of the girls ran up to him, more like a girl, about twelve years old, with a beautiful blond braid and slightly smeared in the ground they were plowing. — The Great Leader said that other people live somewhere far away, but this is the first time I really see one of you! So listen, you are in glorious Wolfengrad! A state of equality and justice!
The girl proudly straightened up and very prettily spread her arms to the sides, after which she rested them on her hips, as if showing off.
"Are you really not from here?" — The guy asked doubtfully, and after receiving an affirmative answer, scratching his chin, he said: — Well, we need to inform the city, it's such an event! Camillo! Camillo, come here, I need to deliver a message!
Beowulf came out of the barn, pulled by a cart filled with either turf or fertilizers. Adam automatically put his hand on his sword, but when he saw the calmness of the settlers, he relaxed, but not completely. When Grimm, also strange with green eyes, came up, the guy stroked his muzzle and unhooked the cart, then took a piece of paper with a pencil out of his pocket, wrote something, and inserted it into a small tube that was attached to Beowulf's remaining collar.
— Tell the guards at the gate, kid. — Ruffling the grimm's fur once more, the guy said. Adam, in a strange state, looked at Beowulf, who rushed along the road somewhere beyond the horizon. — And now let's get acquainted, I'm Eric, this is Lisa and Agatha.
— Adam. — somehow the revolutionary answered automatically.
— Well, shall we go inside and have tea? We'll wait for someone to come for you.
Adam had been in the amazing city for two days already. Like a paradise on earth, people, fauns, and EVEN a grimm peacefully coexisted here. An idyll that is hard to believe, even looking at it with your own eyes. During all the walks, enjoying the amazing majestic architecture and the golden domes of the local temples, as he learned, he never saw any conflicts on racial grounds, no, sometimes someone swore, but it was either about some kind of jambs during construction, or banal family quarrels that They were coming from an open window. However, he could not enjoy walking for too long, the first thing they put him in the hospital and pointed out that health first, and then everything else. Amazing medicines, ointments and bandages quickly brought him into perfect condition, and examinations and many medical tests showed that the doctors did not miss anything that was not noticeable at first glance, so tomorrow they will come for him and answer all his questions.
And so it happened, immediately after the final examination and the conclusion of the chief physician "healthy as a werewolf!", a male fawn with wolfish signs approached him and good-naturedly shook hands.
— Well, hello! I am Mark, your guide and responsible for your socialization here.
— Adam. — The guy replied with polite reciprocation. — I have a lot of questions for you.
"That's fine, but we're not going to discuss this on an empty stomach, are we?" I know a place nearby, we'll have breakfast and chat there.
The place turned out to be some kind of catering establishment, with the strange name "Glass Room", they quickly found an empty table in a simple but cozy establishment and ordered two hearty breakfasts. Adam refused the offer to have a drink for acquaintance, citing the need for a sober mind to perceive new information.
— Well, that's also right, I won't insist, but while we're waiting for the order, I'll start telling you the basics. Mark was not discouraged, but Adam turned into a rumor. — I think we need a story first so that you understand how everything is tripled here. At first, there was a small village, lost among the territories teeming with Grimm. How she appeared, the history of information has not been preserved, but how she survived in harsh conditions is very much so.
One day, a girl was picking mushrooms and berries in the forest, the time was hard then, and even children were engaged in such a dangerous occupation, otherwise starvation. She was attacked by a grimm, a common, albeit sad phenomenon, but, suddenly, another grimm, Beowulf, stood up for her. When she returned, no one believed her, but later it became the first documented meeting with HIM! — He raised a half-wolf finger. — And his first gift. The girl, from shock, discovered the power in herself, the aura that allowed her to cope with thoughtless grimms. Then, when the girl grew into a beautiful woman, one day a flock of Nevermores attacked the village. There seemed to be nowhere to wait for salvation, and soon the settlement would cease to exist, but then the same wolf appeared with his pack, and saved the inhabitants from death, after which he gave people a second gift — dust crystals, which allowed them to create mechanisms, weapons and strengthen themselves on the path of survival in this world. It was the second coming. The third and most important thing happened much later, when the village finally got back on its feet and was not afraid of the trials that might stand in its way, and that very girl had already turned into a respectable lady. Beowulf came again, he became bigger, blue crystals dotted his body, as well as his eyes were the color of clear sky, like other members of the pack, which joined the village society and began to help equip fields and factories, and the Great Wolf, as he was nicknamed, passed on sacred knowledge to his first sequence, dictating The Constitution, the code of rules for an equal and happy society, a copy of which, my friend, I want to give you. — Mark took out of his briefcase a red-bound book with gold letters that read "The Constitution of Wolfengrad", and under them was an image of the planet framed by ears of wheat, behind which there were crossed sickle and hammer, and above the north pole you could see the head of a wolf.
Adam opened the book, but realizing that it was a monumental read, he decided to fully familiarize himself with the constitution later.
— Tell me, Mark, how do you fauns and humans coexist with the Grimm? How does it feel? Adam asked, perhaps the most interesting question for him.
— Adam, who told you that I'm human? Fawn wolf raised one eyebrow.
— I'm a grimm myself. Mark smiled, and to prove it, he took a knife and cut his wrist. In place of the red blood, a black substance with patches of what seemed to be blue sequins poured out of the wound. Mark quickly pressed a napkin to the cut, wiped the ichor, and the wound in his eyes healed.
— How? Adam said, dumbfounded.
— We, the grimm, can evolve, and if in wild representatives this evolution is aimed at increasing the potential for the destruction of intelligent ones, then in us, coexisting with them, it has gone the way of adapting to a similar lifestyle. This is a long process, but after sixty years, any socialized grimm gradually acquires a human form.
Adam stared blankly at the missing cut, unable to comprehend such a revelation.
— Yeah, I see you need time to accept the news. Mark smiled.
Adam was placed in an apartment located near the city administration. He had been living in Wulfengrad for a week now, getting into the local way of life, customs, getting to know the residents, sparring with local hunters and even a grimm. A month ago, if someone had told him that he would be friendly sparring with Ursa, he would have stabbed this half-wit, but now, this is reality. He also read the Constitution. He did it on the fourth day of his stay here. She greatly shook his worldview, as well as Wolfengrad in general. Today would be his last meeting with Mark, Adam decided. He needs to return home and bring equality and communism to the fauns of the kingdoms. What a fool he was before that! After the Constitution, the manifesto of the fauns of the White Fang sounds like the crying of offended women who decided to shit their abuser under the door. No meaning, no purpose, just violence and stupidity. But now, now he has a way. This path was shown to him, and he became imbued with it. Adam was sure that even though his brothers would not see this city themselves in the near future, they would still be imbued with the ideas of communism, and then, then nothing would save the damned Schni, the damned capitalists!
***
— Hello, Comrade Mark. The pretty secretary smiled at the humanoid grimm.
— Hello, Lyudochka, have you called me? He smiled.
— No, everything is calm, but how was your meeting with Comrade Adam?
- Well enough, Adam decided to return to his place and spread the ideas of communism among his comrades.
—It means..." the secretary said breathlessly.
— Yes, it means that my five-year plan has been successful. — Mark answered and opened the door of his office, on which was a sign with the inscription "Chairman of the KGB" — And yes, Lyudochka, will you bring me coffee in five minutes with reports for today?
* Two weeks later*
Adam was standing inside the bullhead, clutching a guitar in his hand. Now one of the most important actions of the White Fang in recent times will take place, because, as Mark said, the ideological struggle in his case is no less, and even more important than the military one.
The brothers infiltrated the communications tower, took control and connected to the audio equipment that the bullhead was taking to the roof of the tallest building in Vale. Fauns turned on the camera, the image from which was broadcast to all possible sources, replacing the news on TV, advertising on street screens, videos about seals viewed from scrolls, the sound came from a microphone that was installed in front of Adam. The first chords sounded, and then Adam began to sing:
The greedy people are blinking the light,
Bubble asses, dashing deeds.
I fell into a puddle so as not to see your "no",
But your bodies are reflected there.
Oh, fuck you all!
Ah, fuck you all!
In the name of the sick, in the name of the unnecessary,
In the name of the uninvited, in the name of Ja voshche!
Filthy life, filthy thread,
The trump card of the burr crowd.
I'm climbing the wall — you can't kill me! —
But I'm poking at your navels.
Oh, fuck you all!
Ah, fuck you all!
In the name of the sick, in the name of the unnecessary,
In the name of the uninvited, in the name of Ja voshche!
HOI!
Mighty piles, steel rows,
My loneliness is growing in the kitchen.
Someone was killed, someone was found
And again my loneliness grows.
Oh, fuck you all!
Oh, fuck you all!
In the name of the walking and the doomed,
In the name of the screaming and the forbidden,
In the name of the contagious, in the name of the dangerous,
In the name of the seditious, in my name.
Oh, fuck you all!
Oh, fuck you all!
Oh, fuck you all!
Oh, fuck you all!
Omak 4. Mark, the prequel.
Mark was sitting near the throne and enjoying the scratching behind the ear from his mistress. He was Beowulf, so he didn't see anything wrong with that, he even liked it. He lived in a big tower, ate sweets, scientists who did not want to cooperate with Queen Grimm, so he developed his intellect well, but not seeing another life, he did not strive for somewhere and for something. It's good, warm, well-fed, they scratch behind the ear and sometimes the tummy, even let you go out for a walk, why leave the comfort zone?
But something was gnawing at Mark. He had been in the mistress's tower for centuries, but his insides demanded actions that were actively suppressed by his mind. This could not go on any longer, and with his intellect, an unusual feeling developed in him — curiosity, thirst for new discoveries. I wanted to see the world, explore it, understand myself and my surroundings. Every day this feeling grew stronger. At first, he began to walk more actively around the tower, exploring all new corners of the building, observing the few people living here, until they drove him away or tried to experiment on him. Mark wasn't ready for autoexperiments yet. After all, he had not progressed so far along the path of science.
In general, Mark was engaged in the first stage of cognition — observation. But when there was practically nothing to observe, a continuous routine and long-established patterns, I wanted more. But who will give a laboratory to a cute little fuzzy? No, he tried to use someone else's, but firstly, the equipment there was not adapted for his paws, and secondly, he was kicked out with wet rags, after which he had to lick himself for a long time. He couldn't take it anymore.
So on the day of the attack of a certain Oz, as Mark understood it was a ritual of courting a female, he quietly disappeared from the tower and went on an amazing journey. For decades, Mark walked through forests, rivers, mountains, watching, studying and experimenting on everything he came across. He could have set up a laboratory somewhere, but the craving for discovery led him forward, so from the skinned skin he made himself a bag, in the likeness of animals that carried their young cubs in such, in which he put the most important tools and records. These were pieces of birch bark, on which some scribbles were scribbled with charcoal for an outsider, but for Mark it was a journal of laboratory experiments, which he cherished and cherished.
And so, one day, making his way through the forest, Mark felt a long-forgotten feeling in himself. This feeling appeared only when there were bipeds nearby. Had he come back to the tower? But, the landscape was completely different, and there was no high structure in sight. As he got closer, he noticed the wooden walls, and even more vividly felt the presence of other bipeds. Is it really from here that the hostess took scientists? Then he needs to go there! Share your results, hear new theories, and conduct a couple of independent, double placebo-controlled indexed experiments!
With a confident gait, Mark walked towards the gate, full of anticipation. The next stage of his life was about to begin, and he couldn't wait.
Omak 5. Zoo.
Adam sat down on a comfortable ottoman and grabbed the guitar more comfortably. His work, despite a certain ideological orientation, became very popular even among people, it was nice to hear hand-written chords in the background in shops, and now fauns are served in such shops without problems. Ironically, his songs fell under the law on freedom of speech, so the concert he would be holding any minute now was absolutely legal.
Due to such twists of the situation, white fang's power actions became less and less, former militants became excellent security officers, quartermasters retrained into managers, and earnings from songs already began to occupy almost half of the budget of the revolutionary movement. Which, as it turned out, can still change the world without using violence, it's just that before that people were not clung to by the trouble of some fauns, but the life and way of life of their idol's comrades is very even.
The curtain began to rise, spotlights were directed at Adam from the darkness of the hall, tearing his silhouette out of the surrounding unreality. Applause, shouts, ovations. It all overwhelmed the fawn. All that remained was not to betray the expectations of those who had paid for an expensive ticket, so Adam decided to start with a new song in the repertoire. He cleared his throat softly, straightened his hair and took the first chords from the guitar, setting the hall in a cheerful lyrical mood. And then the text went:
No need to remember, no need to wait
Don't believe, don't lie
No need to fall, no need to hit
No need to cry, no need to live
I'm looking for people like me
Crazy and funny
Crazy and sick, e-e…
And when I find them
We're going to get out of here.
We'll leave here at night
We will leave the zoo
We will leave the zoo
Oh, baby, baby, you're just a mouse
You're like a dot when you're silent
But there are so many of you, it's dark in my eyes
I wish I could break the window.
I'm looking for people like me
Crazy and funny
Crazy and sick, e-e…
And when I find them
We're going to get out of here.
We'll leave here at night
We will leave the zoo
We will leave the zoo
Empty sounds, empty days
There are too many of you, and we are alone
A knife sparkles in the child's hands
But I hope it's a lie.
After all, I'm looking for people like me
Crazy and funny
Crazy and sick, e-e…
And when I find them
We're going to get out of here.
We'll leave here at night
We will leave the zoo
We will leave the zoo
We will leave the zoo
We will leave the zoo
Omak 6. The plan.
Adam was thinking, thinking about what kind of danger that bitch Synder wanted to put hundreds of his brothers and sisters in. And the most disgusting thing is that he can't do anything about it. They took him firmly and clearly plan to let him go only feet first. But, nevertheless, he still has the last means of communication, if not with allies, then certainly with those who can help. If only they could recognize the message.
Synder did not forbid Adam to hold concerts. But if they were live before, now they are only in electronic form, just so as not to alarm the loss of such a famous person as Adam. And he can take advantage of it. The camera started working, the sound went on, and the hope that his message would be deciphered flared up like never before:
The boundaries of the key are broken in half,
And our father Ozpin is completely dead,
It decomposed into coals and autumn honey,
And perestroika is still going according to plan,
And all the dirt turned into bare ice.
And everything is going according to plan.
And my soul wanted to rest,
I promised her not to participate in the war game.,
But on my cap there is a grimm and a maiden and a lighthouse,
How touching it is Grimm and virgo and the lighthouse,
The dashing lantern of expectation is swinging,
And everything is going according to plan…
Everything is going according to plan…
And my fate was fed to the crowd,
They trampled on her chest with a burning fist,
Under the supervision of freedom, her flesh was torn apart,
So bury her in Christ! Because
Everything is going according to plan…
Everything is going according to plan…
Only Grandpa Volche was a good leader,
And all the others are such shit,
And all the other enemies are such fools,
It was snowing fiendishly over my native land,
I bought a Vacuum magazine, it's also good
there, Comrade Kim Jong-san is there, too, what we have,
I'm sure they have the same thing
And everything is going according to plan…
Everything is going according to plan…
And under communism, everything will be fucked up,
It will come soon, you just have to wait,
Everything will be free there, everything will be a thrill,
There probably won't be any need to die there at all,
I woke up in the middle of the night and realized that
Everything is going according to plan…
Everything is going according to plan…
Omak 7. The Illusive Man.
There were two people in Director Beacon's spacious office. Well, exactly one person and one creature that could be human, in any case, it had a completely anthropomorphic appearance. This creature was not exactly an unwanted guest, but rather an unexpected one. If they had met in other circumstances, the battle would not have been long in coming, but the system of checks and balances, commonly called politics, put them at the same table and forced them to talk to each other. The guest was dressed in an overcoat, on the shoulders of which were visible shoulder straps with stars, and on his head was a cap with a very famous symbol in narrow circles. A symbol of equality and an ideology alien to the kingdoms.
— Tell me, — the guest began the conversation, — why do you consider Salem the embodiment of evil?
— This question is quite simple to answer. Ozpin smiled softly. — She wants to destroy humanity.
— What an obvious, and what a wrong answer. — It was almost impossible to read the emotions of the "commies", as they began to be called in the Atlas. — Let me give you an example so that our dialogue will take place in a more productive way. Imagine a slum, a dilapidated house with no electricity, no water, no heat. A beggar lives in it, it so happened that due to injury he lost his job, could not pay the bills and as a result his wife left him, who took the last property from him by court and fraud. Can you call such a person evil?
— I would feel sorry for such a person and would try to help, but I would not treat him badly in any way. Ozpin also maintained the polite equanimity he had developed over a very long life.
— But in order to find food, this beggar began to steal and take food from passers-by who had the misfortune to end up in the slums. It's not the most noble thing to do, but this man has no choice. The social care authorities have forgotten about him, he cannot get a job, banks do not give him money to start his own business so that he can get back on his feet. This person is abandoned and surrounded only by insensibility and indifference. Yes, he does bad things, but can you call him evil?
— Fate can be cruel, but everyone chooses their own path, some of my students confirm this. So I would call this man lost.
- OK. Although this man is a criminal in the eyes of society, he has not lost his kindness. He finds abandoned children and tries to take care of them as much as he can. Children who cannot go to school, not knowing another life, also begin to steal and take food from passers-by, gradually going further and further into the prosperous areas of the city. Gradually, successful citizens leave their homes, moving to other places, thus expanding the slums. They don't try to make contact with that beggar or take care of the street children themselves so that they don't have to harm people. They don't care, they have their own hut on the edge, the main thing is not to get involved with them. Tell me, who is to blame for this situation? A beggar who wanted to take care of children, children who grew up according to their environment, where they were thrown, or townspeople who are indifferent and unwilling to help someone else's trouble?
— I would say that the blame lies with everyone, but I cannot help but note that I am upset by such behavior of the citizens, after all, we need to deal with the problem, and not ignore it.
— And they didn't ignore it. The townspeople began to write to the mayor, and he gathered police, military forces and cordoned off the slums, severely punishing and killing those who try to cross the line. Ironically, there were many more slums in the city than presentable areas, so the city became an enclave surrounded by a gang of beggars. He no longer wanted to change anything, even though he had the resources, he could gradually send children to school, who, after graduating, would find a job and start helping others who remained in the slums. Gradually, not in a year, and not in two, but the slums would have disappeared, rebuilt by their inhabitants, but, unfortunately, for so long a beggar remembers only the pain and betrayal of those he knew in the city, and extrapolates this perception to all the townspeople. So he can't even think of any other options besides continuing the siege. The townspeople were tired of enduring this, such a status quo was unbearable for their ever-increasing needs, so they decided to strike back. And, what an amazing combination of circumstances, the beggar's wife, having learned that he was responsible for what was happening, went to the forefront to attack her ex. The townspeople did not succeed, neither the first time, nor the second, nor the third, nor the tenth. Only the beggar became more and more callous, like his children, using increasingly cruel and sophisticated methods, and the townspeople did not lag behind him, even surpassed him in this ignoble art. So tell me, who is evil in this situation?
- It's a difficult question, I can understand both sides. I would try to get them to negotiate and de-escalate the conflict. — Ozpin understood, understood what they were talking about now, but lying and prevarication had long been in the director's past, as ineffective methods. And it didn't make sense. Over the centuries of existence, in order to achieve his goal, he had to learn to accept his mistakes, and not run away from them.
— So why didn't you give the same answer to my first question? Why is Salem evil?
— Because I'm being honest with you. I am no less evil. I use people for my own purposes, train children to fight from an early age, manipulate the masses of people to achieve my goals. The only difference between Salem and me is the purpose of our actions. I'm trying to protect humanity, she's trying to destroy it. It doesn't matter why all this is happening, the conflict is too ancient, but I will fight for the good of humanity using all necessary methods, otherwise it will cease to exist.
— Hmm. Well, I get you, and I get who you are. Just a human being, and that makes me happy. It was nice talking to you, I don't think I'll get another chance like this in the near future.
The figure had already turned around and walked towards the exit, but was stopped by Ozpin almost at the last moment, when the elevator doors had already opened.
— Tell me, who are you in this story? And whose side would you take?
— We are children who decided to rebuild the slums with our own hands. The elevator doors closed, plunging the office into silent reverie.
Omak 8. Vakuo Sun.
Absolute inhumanity. It was this phrase that could describe this hole, burning with the flames of war — a Vacuum. For more than three years, a sluggish conflict of two ideologies has been smoldering here, fanned from time to time by the politicians of Atlas and Volcharnia, pursuing their murky goals. In the Atlas, deception and propaganda, the blood of their citizens smeared the malfunctioning mechanism of the economy and production, and no one could ever understand the logic of the communists. It seems that the locals wanted too much to join the ideology of equality, which is so actively developed by these grimm worshippers, who are equal only in that they can get to the creatures on the dining table at any time. But even the desire to drive at least a little common sense into these idiots quickly disappears when only a couple of people remain from the rapidly thinning squad. Then you realize that you are no less an idiot yourself.
Vacuo is an inhumane country, in every sense. The territory of fauns with their bestial customs, full of terrifying grimms in their crazy danger, supported by an ideology alien to humanity. You hate this place with all your being.
It's all so idiotic. Despite the fact that in the minds of ordinary people this country is just a big cat tray, in fact, when you arrive here, you realize that the intelligent here live in vast territories of oases overgrown with jungle. This was not understood by the damn idiots from the supply department, who gave out desert sets of ammunition to conscripts, which never protects them from humidity and the ubiquitous insects that keep trying to eat you piece by piece. The desert uniform was good only for pilots stationed at airfields among endless dunes. Over time, the problems with the quartermasters were corrected, but it was too late, too many good guys died from stupid diseases that could have been avoided.
A stupid death. Although I didn't have to wait for another one here. Clutching an eternally wedged rifle in his hands, pouring fire into the impenetrable jungle, praying that at least those who are there will be scared off and get a bullet in the head from a sniper, a fourteen-year-old fawn girl, who will then be found with her legs torn off, hanging from her own intestines on a tree. The bombers worked as they should. Someone will throw up from such a picture, a beginner who arrived here about a week ago, but you don't care anymore, you're just a little sad that you won't see the joyful sparkle in those charming sky-blue eyes anymore.
Hate. Your cheekbones are reduced to cracked teeth, but there's nothing you can do about comrades trapped in cleverly placed traps. Wolf pits, as they began to be called in a kind of impotent irony. The leg gets trapped and in the best case, you are evacuated on a praholet and the leg is amputated, sending home a physically and mentally crippled piece of meat, which is only mistakenly called a man. In the worst case, blood poisoning, agony of fever and a rotting limb alive and a painful death, at the end of which you beg your friends, who are trying their best to drag you to the doctors, to finally shoot you.
The best choice. Those who want to be sent to a Vacuum are deprived of such elections. Is the age appropriate? A man? Are your arms and legs in place? Good for you! Even if you're a half-witted moron with a certificate. A whole platoon of such brave recruiters were pinned down. Only rich parents can get away with it, but what kind of guy who works at a factory for pennies has them? Well, at least they feed normally here, especially when the death toll rises and unclaimed rations remain, and this happens all the time.
A pleasant surprise. But they happen too rarely. Too often, surprises mean you're in complete shit. For example, when someone from the platoon yells "Grimm, they're in the trees!" Sometimes these are fauns who have disguised themselves among the branches, and just now they will start firing at your column from a height, knocking out every second, until coordinated fire drives them away from you, and artillery and aircraft will not bombard their intended positions with so many bombs that the area will turn into a scorched desert. But in the worst case scenario, it will turn out to be really a grimm, and then you will have a lottery where there is an elusively slim chance of surviving in the cycle of black bodies, claws and fangs. Usually no one survives. Only the bodies torn to shreds remind you of why you were sent here.
Just dying. Not to defend the rights of the reasonable. Not to fight for your native country, protecting it from the aggressor. At the very least, not to plunder and kill, in the bloody frenzy of primitive logic. The world is constantly turning into an increasingly shitty place. Although, come to think of it, he's always been like that. Bloody, cruel, senseless and merciless. People, having come to an agreement among themselves, and locked themselves in the cities, forgot about it. Only now, in animal conditions. You're starting to understand. Something that you cannot feel or describe, but you begin to understand. Maybe fauns who accept their animal insides, which are also inside you, opening up in full force in such conditions. Maybe philosophers, whose lengthy arguments are unexpectedly popular in soldiers' tents. Maybe it's the value of a cigarette that is gradually smoldering in your teeth, just as you are in the teeth of this war.