Fall of the SDC
opening theme:
opening- Hibana [Tales of Arise opening 1]
Visuals: Starts out showing Odyn walking forward with Ruby following behind him as it pans up to the sky upon showing the title card: Flame and Crimson. The screen briefly goes to a shot of Odyn's hands before cutting to field surrounded in flames. Ruby looks up to the sky as the silhouettes of her family members are seen walking in the background of her mind. The camera then pans to Odyn reaching a hand towards Ruby, who accepts it as the they walk forward.
The camera then pans to others within the group of friends, ranging from Khanna and Mercury fighting off Grimm, to Syrrai and Jaune training as they clash swords. Roy and Yang are seen sparring before she falls to the ground frustrated with herself momentarily before Roy offers a hand to help her up to her feet. It then pans to several lights, representing the group of friends. Odyn reaches out towards Ruby and the two of them grab hands before standing back to back with their weapons drawn.
The dark elf then draws his blade as he rushes towards a giant Grimm. After slashing it, a few times and dodging it with Roy accompanying him. They're saved by a shot from Ruby's sniper scythe. The scene then pans to Baron and Flare fighting off a wyvern Grimm with Blake, Shallot, Yang, and Sun helping. As the beast closed in, Syrrai rushes in and knocks back the beast with an Arte from her shield.
This opened up things for Daikon to blast the beast away. Odyn is then seen to be clashing swords with someone in dark armor briefly before both gain distance and charge in again for a final clash. The clash causes the screen to go white, fading into a field where everyone meets and walks off towards mistral together.
Outmatched: The Final Days of Atlas's Resistance
While both teams of Ace Operatives were led back to Vale to discover what knowledge their leaders had been hiding about the dark elves, Atlas's situation within the war continued to rapidly deteriorate. Vale was now completely taken over by the elves, and the elven armies were mere days' march away from the city of Mantle. Atlas was losing ground, and it was losing ground fast.
The situation was coming to a head with a terrible conclusion that Jacques Schnee stubbornly refused to see. The Atlas Army had been humiliated, embarrassed, and crushed by the dark elven forces. Military morale had plummeted as reports of elven superiority spread through the ranks like wildfire. Even the most stalwart defenders began questioning their orders.
General Ironwood stood before the emergency council meeting, his face ashen as he delivered the latest intelligence.
"The northern defensive line has fallen," he reported, his voice hollow. "Our remaining forces are retreating to the Mantle perimeter. We've lost nearly sixty percent of our deployed units, with minimal casualties confirmed on the elven side."
Councilwoman Camilla slammed her fist on the table. "This is beyond catastrophic! They're toying with us. Reports say they're not even killing our soldiers—they're disarming them and sending them back with messages of peaceful surrender."
"Propaganda," Jacques Schnee dismissed with a wave of his hand. "We simply need to commit more resources. The Schnee Dust Company has developed new experimental weapons that—"
"That will fail just like everything else we've thrown at them," Winter Schnee interrupted, entering the chamber unannounced. Her uniform was disheveled, her normally immaculate appearance showing the strain of recent battles.
"You forget yourself, daughter," Jacques hissed.
"And you forget reality, father," Winter retorted. "I've seen them firsthand. Our dust weapons barely register against their warding magic. Their archers can hit targets at impossible ranges. Their foot soldiers move like ghosts through our defenses."
The council chamber's main screen flickered to life before anyone could respond to Winter's assessment. The transmission hadn't been scheduled, but the source identifier caused every person in the room to freeze.
"This is High King Berethon and High Queen Hyatan of the Albanahr Realm," announced the regal male figure on the screen. Beside him sat a woman of ethereal beauty whose eyes held ancient wisdom. Both wore crowns that seemed to be crafted from living silver intertwined with enchanted flora that bloomed and shifted subtly as they spoke.
"Councilors of Atlas," the High Queen continued, her voice melodious yet commanding. "Your continued resistance has become an exercise in futility. Your citizens suffer needlessly while your leadership clings to prejudice and misinformation."
The High King's expression was one of stern compassion. "We have directly contacted you with an ultimatum: either surrender and end this futility as your citizens want, or ignore Atlas citizenry and have Mantle razed to the ground faster than you'd be able to mount a response."
Jacques stood indignantly. "How dare you threaten us! Atlas will never—"
"This is not a negotiation, Mr. Schnee," the High Queen interrupted calmly. "Your forces have already lost. Your elite operatives are currently being shown the truth about our civilization—truths your leadership has systematically hidden from your people for generations."
"What truths?" Ironwood demanded, stepping forward. "What possible justification could you have for this invasion?"
The High King's eyes narrowed slightly. "Invasion? Is that truly how you perceive our return to lands that were stolen from us centuries ago? Lands from which your ancestors drove us after betraying treaties signed in good faith?"
A series of ancient documents appeared on screen, showing treaties and maps with signatures and seals that even the council members recognized from Atlas's historical archives.
"These cannot be authentic," Councilman Sleet protested weakly.
"Your own historical archives contain the originals, hidden in sections restricted to all but the highest authorities," the High Queen replied. "Ask yourselves why such information would be concealed if not to hide the shame of your foundational betrayal."
The chamber fell silent as the implications settled heavily upon them.
"You have twenty-four hours to announce your surrender," the High King stated firmly. "We have already established communication with resistance movements within Mantle who welcome our arrival. Your own citizens understand the truth better than you do."
The screen shifted to show footage of Mantle citizens peacefully demonstrating, holding signs calling for surrender and reconciliation with the elves. The crowds were massive, suggesting widespread support for ending the conflict.
"If you truly care for your people, you will spare them further suffering," the High Queen added. "We await your response."
The transmission ended, leaving the council chamber in stunned silence.
Winter was the first to speak. "They're right. I've seen the restricted archives during my special assignments. We—the Schnee family especially—have built our fortune on stolen elven dust mining techniques. The original treaties granted limited access to natural resources, not the systematic exploitation we've conducted."
Jacques's face contorted with rage. "Treacherous girl! You would side with our enemies?"
"I side with the truth," Winter replied calmly. "And with the people of Mantle and Atlas who deserve to know it."
Ironwood sank heavily into his chair. "The Ace Operatives' report just came through on a secure channel. They confirm everything. The elven civilization is vastly more advanced than our intelligence suggested. Their magic systems make our technology look primitive by comparison."
"So what are you suggesting?" Jacques demanded. "That we simply surrender? That Atlas bends the knee to these creatures?"
"I'm suggesting we stop sacrificing lives for a lie," Ironwood responded, his voice finding new resolve. "I'm suggesting we face the truth of our history and find a path forward that doesn't end with the destruction of everything we've built."
Councilwoman Camilla nodded solemnly. "I move that we accept the terms of surrender and open diplomatic channels immediately."
"Seconded," Councilman Sleet added without hesitation.
"This is outrageous!" Jacques shouted. "The Schnee Dust Company will not—"
"The Schnee Dust Company will comply with the council's decision," Winter interrupted firmly. "Or face charges of treason during wartime."
As the council moved to formalize their vote, the cameras focusing on each member's grave expression, Jacques Schnee realized that his empire of half-truths and exploitation was crumbling before his eyes. The elven ultimatum had not just threatened Atlas's military standing—it had exposed the fragile foundations upon which their entire society had been built.
The vote was unanimous, with Jacques abstaining in bitter protest.
Atlas would surrender, and a new chapter in the relationship between humans and elves would begin—one built on truth rather than conquest, on reconciliation rather than dominance.
As Winter left the council chamber to communicate with the remaining military forces, she wondered what new world awaited them all when the truth was finally laid bare.
Outmatched: The Price of Peace
The council chamber had barely begun processing the implications of surrender when High Queen Hyatan's image reappeared on the central display. Her expression remained serene, but there was an unmistakable steel beneath her composure that commanded immediate attention.
"There is one additional condition to our peace terms," Hyatan stated, her melodious voice carrying throughout the stunned chamber. "Jacques Schnee will stand trial before the Council of Elders for repeated crimes against the elven crown."
The council members exchanged uneasy glances as Jacques's face drained of color.
Hyatan continued, enumerating the charges with regal precision: "Namely, the deliberate demonization of the elven people, the systematic attempted erasure of our culture, the purposeful blotting out of our historical and legitimate claims to the lands Atlas now occupies." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And finally, his flagrant warmongering and manipulation of official news channels and sources—not to mention the attempted assassination of elven royalty."
Gasps echoed through the chamber as some council members turned accusatory eyes toward Jacques.
"Assassination?" General Ironwood demanded, rising from his seat.
"Yes," Hyatan confirmed. "Of myself and my husband, High King Berethon, not more than a week prior to this meeting. The operatives have been captured and have provided comprehensive testimony regarding their orders."
Jacques leapt to his feet. "This is absurd! I demand—"
"You are in no position to demand anything," the High Queen interrupted, her calm voice somehow more devastating than any shout could have been. "We have recovered the coded transmissions bearing your personal encryption signature, authorizing what your operatives called 'Operation Regicide.' Did you believe our intelligence networks so primitive that such an attempt would go undetected or untraced?"
Jacques's protest died in his throat as Winter stepped toward him, her expression a mixture of disgust and dawning realization.
"That's why you insisted on handling the 'special security matter' personally last week," Winter said, her voice hollow with betrayal. "You circumvented military command entirely."
"A private security initiative," Jacques sputtered. "For the protection of Atlas—"
"For the protection of your mining interests," Councilwoman Camilla interjected, her previous respect for the Schnee patriarch visibly crumbling. "You escalated a territorial dispute into attempted regicide!"
High Queen Hyatan watched the internal discord with composed patience before speaking again. "Jacques Schnee will surrender himself to the elven authority within twenty-four hours of your formal surrender. He will receive a fair trial according to our ancient laws, with full representation and transparent proceedings that will be broadcast to both our peoples."
"And if we refuse this condition?" Councilman Sleet asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Then there can be no peace," Hyatan replied simply. "Justice must be served if reconciliation is to begin. One man's ambition and prejudice cannot stand above the welfare of two civilizations."
Winter stepped forward, standing at attention. "As a representative of the Atlas military and the Schnee family, I will personally ensure Jacques Schnee's compliance with this condition."
Jacques turned on his daughter, face contorted with rage. "You treacherous—"
"Father," Winter cut him off, her voice ice-cold. "For once in your life, face the consequences of your actions with dignity."
General Ironwood nodded gravely. "The council accepts this additional condition. Jacques Schnee will be remanded to elven custody as specified."
"This is outrageous!" Jacques shouted, looking around for support that was rapidly evaporating. "I am a citizen of Atlas! I demand protection under Atlas law!"
"The laws you've spent a lifetime manipulating to your advantage?" Winter asked quietly. "The same laws that apparently didn't stop you from ordering the assassination of foreign heads of state during peace negotiations?"
"I will not be judged by lesser creatures!" Jacques hissed, his composure finally shattering to reveal the deep-seated prejudice that had driven his policies for decades.
High Queen Hyatan regarded him with something approaching pity. "Your trial will reveal much about both our peoples, Jacques Schnee. Perhaps especially about the foundations upon which your fortune was built."
With a subtle gesture from Ironwood, security personnel entered the chamber and moved to flank Jacques.
"Jacques Schnee, you are hereby detained pending transfer to elven custody as per the terms of surrender," Ironwood announced formally. "Winter Schnee, as you volunteered, you will oversee security arrangements for the transfer."
As Jacques was led away, still protesting his innocence and demanding legal representation, the High Queen addressed the remaining council members once more.
"When your formal surrender is received, we will immediately halt all military advances. Humanitarian aid for affected communities will begin within hours. Remember that this confrontation was never our desire—merely a necessary correction of historical injustice."
The transmission ended, leaving the council to draft their surrender document. Outside the chamber windows, the floating city of Atlas seemed somehow less impressive than before, its technological marvels diminished by the realization of what had been sacrificed to achieve them.
Winter watched as her father was escorted to a secure holding facility, his demands for special treatment falling on deaf ears. For the first time in her life, she saw him not as the powerful industrialist who had shaped Atlas's economy, but as a man whose fear and prejudice had nearly destroyed everything.
"What will they do to him?" Councilwoman Camilla asked quietly, coming to stand beside Winter at the window.
"Justice, not vengeance," Winter replied, remembering the measured composure of the High Queen. "I suspect that may be punishment enough for a man like my father—to be judged fairly by those he considered beneath him."
As night fell over Atlas, citizens gathered in public squares, watching news of the surrender spread across emergency broadcasts. Unlike the panic the council had feared, a strange calm settled over the population—perhaps the first honest moment many had experienced in generations, as the carefully constructed narratives of Atlas superiority gave way to the sobering truth.
The age of Atlas's dominance was ending, but perhaps something more authentic could take its place—if they were brave enough to face their history and build a new future with those they had once called enemies.
Outmatched: The Trial of Jacques Schnee
The Great Hall of Albanahr gleamed with ancient majesty as Jacques Schnee was escorted inside. Crystalline pillars soared overhead, catching the light from enchanted lanterns that floated without visible support. The architecture blended seamlessly with living trees that formed part of the structure itself, their leaves rustling with a soft melody that seemed to respond to the emotions in the room.
Jacques walked between two rows of elven guards whose ceremonial armor bore the same crimson sigil as Valvaderhn's. Despite their formal appearance, Jacques could sense the lethal capability behind their disciplined stance. The Schnee patriarch fought to maintain his composure, but the grandeur of the elven capital had already begun to erode his certainty about human superiority.
The trial chamber opened before him, arranged in a perfect circle with tiered seating that accommodated hundreds of observers. Elven dignitaries filled most seats, their elegant attire and natural grace making them appear as living works of art. But it was the human faces sprinkled throughout the chamber that truly shocked Jacques—Atlas military officers, council representatives, and even Dust company executives who had previously answered to him.
At the center of the chamber stood a circular platform where High King Berethon and High Queen Hyatan sat upon thrones that appeared to be grown rather than crafted, living wood intertwined with precious metals and crystals that pulsed with subtle energy. Their crowns seemed alive, shifting slightly with the rhythm of their thoughts.
As Jacques was brought to the defendant's position, he caught sight of two familiar figures standing at the right hand of the elven monarchs: Winter Schnee and General Ironwood.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jacques demanded, his voice echoing through the suddenly silent chamber.
High King Berethon rose from his throne, his presence filling the room like a physical force. He stood tall and commanding, his features bearing the weathered wisdom of centuries combined with the strength of a warrior-king.
"Jacques Schnee," Berethon's voice resonated without him seeming to raise it, "you stand accused of crimes against the elven crown and people. Before these proceedings begin, there is a truth you must confront."
With a gesture from the High King, Winter stepped forward.
"Father," she said, her voice steady despite the weight of the moment, "General Ironwood and I have been working with the elven rulers for the past three years."
Jacques's face contorted with shock and rage. "Treachery! You betrayed your own blood—your own kind!"
"No," Winter corrected firmly. "We chose truth over comfortable lies. After discovering the restricted historical archives that detailed the original treaties with the elven kingdoms, we sought to make contact and prevent exactly the kind of catastrophic conflict you nearly caused."
Ironwood joined her, his military bearing unchanged despite the elven setting. "The Atlas Military harbored growing concerns about your increasingly aggressive expansion policies. When evidence emerged of your systematic suppression of elven history, we launched a classified investigation."
"This entire war," Winter continued, "was an elaborate ruse designed to lull you into a false sense of security and superiority—to draw out your most extreme actions while minimizing actual casualties."
"Impossible!" Jacques sputtered. "The military operations—the fallen cities—"
"Were evacuated in advance," Hyatan spoke for the first time, her voice carrying the melody of ancient forests. "Our forces captured your troops through non-lethal means, showed them the truth, and gave them a choice. Most chose to support justice once they understood what was actually happening."
Jacques looked around wildly, seeing the faces of his former allies watching him with solemn disapproval. "Why this charade? This... this theater?"
"Because you left us no choice," Winter answered, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Every diplomatic approach was rejected. Every historical document was dismissed as forgery. Every attempt at peaceful resolution was met with increased military posturing and propaganda."
High Queen Hyatan rose now, her movement so fluid it seemed she merely shifted from one state of grace to another. "Jacques Schnee, you were given multiple opportunities to recognize elven sovereignty and negotiate in good faith. Instead, you accelerated your efforts to erase our very existence from historical record and authorized an assassination attempt against myself and my husband."
For the first time, Jacques seemed to truly register the commanding presence Hyatan wielded and the dominating power Berethon exuded. These were not merely foreign dignitaries—they were ancient souls who had witnessed centuries unfold, who carried the weight of their people's history with unwavering dignity.
"The charges against you will be presented by both elven and human representatives," Berethon announced. "You will be provided with counsel of your choosing. The proceedings will be broadcast throughout Atlas, Mantle, and the elven territories. Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done."
As if on cue, the crystalline walls of the chamber shimmered, revealing floating viewing portals that showed gathered crowds in every major Atlas city, citizens watching with nervous anticipation as they awaited a glimpse of what their future might be.
Jacques found himself genuinely speechless for perhaps the first time in his life. The careful edifice of lies he had built throughout his career had not merely cracked—it had been systematically dismantled by a coalition that included his own daughter.
The trial proceeded with methodical precision. Elven historians presented original treaties bearing the signatures of early Atlas leaders promising territorial respect and cultural exchange. Human archivists followed with documented evidence of how these agreements had been systematically buried, redacted, and eventually removed from public record entirely.
Former SDC executives testified about directives from Jacques to modify historical accounts in educational materials, to pressure media outlets into portraying elves as mythological creatures rather than a real civilization, and to suppress archaeological findings that contradicted the official Atlas narrative.
Most damning of all was the testimony regarding Operation Regicide—the attempted assassination of the elven monarchs, presented through recovered communications and corroborated by the captured operatives themselves.
Throughout it all, Jacques watched as his carefully constructed world collapsed around him. The revelation that Winter and Ironwood had been working with the elven rulers for years meant that his every move had been anticipated, his every strategy countered before it could fully form.
When finally given the opportunity to speak in his defense, Jacques found himself facing not just the judgment of the elven court, but the collective gaze of citizens from both civilizations.
"I acted in what I believed to be the best interests of Atlas," he began, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "The resources were necessary for our survival and advancement."
"And did that necessity require the erasure of an entire civilization from history?" Hyatan asked, her question gentle but unyielding. "Did it require teaching generations of Atlas children that elves were merely creatures of fantasy? Did it require denying us our very existence?"
Jacques had no answer that would not further indict him.
As the trial concluded its first day, Atlas citizens watched with a mixture of shock and somber reflection. The evidence presented had shaken the foundations of their understanding about their own history and leadership. Many began to question what other truths might have been hidden from them over the generations.
Winter Schnee stood beside Ironwood at the chamber's exit, watching as her father was escorted to comfortable but secure quarters where he would await the trial's continuation.
"Do you think he understands yet?" she asked quietly.
"That this was never about punishing Atlas or claiming victory?" Ironwood replied. "Perhaps not. Your father has spent too long believing in his own narrative."
"The real work begins after the verdict," Winter observed, looking toward the viewing portals where Atlas citizens continued to watch and discuss among themselves. "Rebuilding trust between our peoples won't be accomplished through a single trial."
"No," agreed Ironwood, "but truth is a necessary first step toward healing. The elven approach to justice focuses on restoration rather than retribution. That's something Atlas could learn from."
As night fell over both Atlas and Albanahr, citizens of both civilizations contemplated what reconciliation might look like—how centuries of separation and mistrust might be overcome through honesty and mutual respect.
For Jacques Schnee, alone with his thoughts for the first time in decades, the night brought no such comfort. His empire of deception had crumbled, and the harsh light of truth illuminated not just his crimes, but the fundamental flaws in the worldview that had driven him to commit them.
The trial would continue in the morning, but its conclusion already seemed certain. What remained uncertain was how Atlas would transform in the aftermath—and whether its citizens could embrace a future where prosperity was built on partnership rather than exploitation.
The next morning....
Outmatched: Global Repercussions
The ancient city of Vale, now renamed as the capital city of the Republic of Albanahr, stood transformed. The elven restoration had erased all signs of the devastation left by the Grimm invasion following Beacon's fall mere months earlier. Where ruins had stood, elegant structures incorporating both elven craftsmanship and modern technology now reached skyward. The most striking feature was the Great Amphitheater of Justice, a majestic open-air structure where Jacques Schnee's trial was to take place.
Unlike traditional human courtrooms with their closed walls and private deliberations, the elven justice system emphasized transparency and public witness. The amphitheater accommodated thousands of spectators, with enchanted viewing crystals positioned throughout the renamed Republic to broadcast the proceedings to even more. Representatives from every kingdom—Atlas, Mistral, Menagerie, and even the scattered survivors of Vacuo—had gathered to observe what many already recognized as a historic turning point in Remnant's history.
Jacques Schnee was escorted to the central platform by an honor guard of both elven warriors and Atlas military personnel—the latter including several familiar faces from special operations units who had clearly changed allegiance during the conflict. His usual immaculate appearance had given way to a more subdued countenance, though he still carried himself with the stiff pride that had defined his public persona for decades.
High King Berethon and High Queen Hyatan presided from an elevated dais, flanked by a council of twelve elders—six elven and six human, including representatives from Faunus communities. This mixed tribunal was itself a statement about the future governance they envisioned.
"Let all bear witness," Berethon's powerful voice carried throughout the amphitheater without apparent amplification. "Today marks the beginning of truth and reconciliation between peoples long divided by deception and prejudice."
Hyatan rose, her presence somehow both gentle and commanding. "Jacques Schnee stands accused of crimes that transcend mere political disputes. These are charges of cultural genocide, historical revisionism, resource theft, and ultimately, attempted regicide."
The proceedings began with a comprehensive historical account, starting with the original peaceful coexistence between humans, Faunus, and elves centuries earlier. Ancient treaties projected onto massive viewing screens showed signed agreements delineating territorial boundaries and resource-sharing protocols—agreements bearing the signatures of early Schnee ancestors alongside elven royalty.
Historians from Atlas's own universities confirmed the authenticity of these documents, explaining how they had been systematically removed from public archives and educational curricula over generations. Former SDC executives testified about explicit directives from Jacques to suppress archaeological findings and fund "historical research" that portrayed elves as mythological rather than historical beings.
Throughout Remnant, citizens watched with growing shock as the carefully constructed narrative of human dominance unraveled before their eyes.
Far from Vale, in a crystalline palace nestled among corrupted lands where Grimm roamed freely, Salem stood before a viewing pool that showed the trial in perfect detail. Her pale features remained composed, but the subtle tightening of her fingers against the viewing pool's edge betrayed her concern.
"This... complicates matters significantly," she murmured to the empty chamber.
The elves were not merely another human kingdom to manipulate, not simply another piece on the chessboard to be sacrificed in her eternal conflict with Ozpin. They represented a power she had not accounted for—one with magic systems predating even her own ancient knowledge, with warriors whose capabilities rivaled her most powerful Grimm.
Salem waved her hand over the viewing pool, shifting the image to various locations throughout the renamed Republic of Albanahr. Elven border defenses incorporated enchantments that actually repelled Grimm without emotional triggers. Their cities showed technological and magical integration beyond what even Atlas had achieved.
"They are strong," she acknowledged, her voice a whisper in the darkness. "Strong enough to actually threaten me and my plans."
The Queen of Grimm moved to a strategic table where crystalline figures represented various factions across Remnant. With deliberate care, she added new pieces to represent elven forces—pieces notably larger and more intricate than those symbolizing human kingdoms.
"A revision of plans is necessary," she decided. "Direct confrontation would be... unwise."
The possibility of war against the elves was indeed frightening, even to one as ancient and powerful as Salem. Unlike humans who could be divided by prejudice or Faunus who could be radicalized through oppression, the elven civilization demonstrated a unity of purpose and clarity of historical understanding that made them resistant to her usual manipulations.
Salem's fingertips traced the boundary between her territory and the expanding elven influence. "Perhaps... observation is prudent before action," she concluded, something like respect coloring her usually coldly calculating tone.
Back in Vale, the trial continued with testimony from Winter Schnee that sent ripples of shock through the global audience.
"The systematic oppression of Faunus laborers in SDC mines was not merely a cost-saving measure," Winter explained, her military posture unwavering despite the personal cost of her testimony. "It was a deliberate strategy to create division between humans and Faunus, preventing them from recognizing their common history with elven peoples."
Jacques visibly bristled at his daughter's testimony but remained silent under the watchful eyes of the tribunal.
"Documents recovered from SDC headquarters," Winter continued, activating a projection of internal memoranda bearing Jacques's signature, "show explicit directives to fund political campaigns that emphasized human-Faunus conflict while simultaneously suppressing any academic research into pre-Dust era civilizations."
The representatives from Menagerie leaned forward with particular interest at this revelation. Ghira Belladonna, former leader of the White Fang turned chieftain of Menagerie, exchanged knowing glances with his wife Kali. The systematic nature of the oppression they had fought against had deeper roots than even they had suspected.
In Mistral, where traditional values and respect for ancestry ran deep, public viewing squares had filled beyond capacity. Citizens who had long prided themselves on their historical knowledge were confronted with evidence that significant chapters of their past had been deliberately excised from their cultural memory.
The afternoon session brought perhaps the most damning evidence—communications recovered from Jacques's personal encryption network detailing Operation Regicide, the planned assassination of the elven monarchs.
"These were not the actions of a man defending his kingdom," the prosecutor stated clearly. "These were the desperate measures of someone willing to commit murder to preserve a profitable lie."
Throughout the kingdoms, the unified broadcast created a shared moment of revelation unprecedented in Remnant's divided history. In Atlas, citizens gathered in snow-covered squares watched their former industrial leader exposed as an architect of historical deception. In Mistral's tiered viewing gardens, families witnessed the unraveling of histories they had believed unquestionable. In Menagerie's communal gathering spaces, Faunus communities saw validation of suspicions they had harbored for generations.
As the first day of the trial concluded, High Queen Hyatan addressed not just those physically present but the entire watching world.
"We seek not vengeance but understanding," she stated, her ethereal voice somehow reaching each listener as if spoken directly to them. "The crimes of Jacques Schnee are severe, but they are symptoms of a deeper illness—the deliberate separation of peoples who once lived in harmony. Tomorrow, we will hear his defense, for even in justice, we must maintain balance."
The broadcast concluded with an announcement that Jacques would be permitted to present his defense the following day, with legal representation of his choosing from any kingdom in Remnant.
As night fell across the world, conversations ignited in homes, taverns, and community centers everywhere. The foundations of historical understanding had been shaken. The implications extended beyond one man's crimes to questions about the very structure of society throughout Remnant.
And in her distant stronghold, Salem continued to watch, to calculate, and to consider the frightening possibility that her ancient plans might require not just revision but fundamental reconsideration in the face of a power she had not accounted for—a power that had emerged from the shadows of deliberately suppressed history to reclaim its place in the world.
The trial of Jacques Schnee had become more than a legal proceeding. It had become a global moment of reckoning with truth long buried beneath layers of carefully crafted lies.
Outmatched: The Verdict and Beyond
The final day of Jacques Schnee's trial dawned with an unusual stillness across Remnant. In households, communal spaces, and public squares throughout Atlas, Mistral, and Menagerie, daily routines were suspended as citizens gathered around viewing crystals to witness the culmination of proceedings that had already reshaped their understanding of history.
The Great Amphitheater of Albanahr was filled beyond capacity, the crowd maintaining a respectful silence that belied the historic significance of the moment. Jacques Schnee stood at the center of the tribunal circle, his normally immaculate appearance now showing subtle signs of strain—a loosened collar, slightly disheveled hair, the absence of his characteristic aristocratic posture.
His defense had been predictably self-serving. Over the previous days, he had attempted to justify his actions as necessary protections of Atlas's sovereignty, as business decisions made for economic stability, as policies supporting technological advancement. Each argument had been systematically dismantled by evidence from his own records, testimony from former subordinates, and historical documents that revealed the true nature of his motivations.
Now, as the twelve members of the mixed tribunal filed into their positions flanking the royal dais, Jacques maintained a stony expression that betrayed nothing of his inner thoughts. Winter Schnee and General Ironwood stood at attention nearby, their faces solemn with the weight of what was to come.
High King Berethon rose from his throne, his commanding presence drawing every eye in the amphitheater. The ceremonial armor he wore for this occasion caught the morning light, the ancient elven symbols etched into its surface seeming to shimmer with an inner radiance that spoke of magic far older than Dust technology.
"Jacques Schnee," Berethon's voice carried effortlessly throughout the vast space, "the tribunal has deliberated on the evidence presented before us and the testimony heard from witnesses across all kingdoms."
High Queen Hyatan stood beside her husband, her regal bearing complementing his warrior presence. Together, they embodied the balance of wisdom and strength that had sustained elven civilization through centuries of hiding and recent reemergence.
"Before we pronounce judgment," Hyatan spoke, her melodious voice carrying the gravity of the moment, "do you wish to address this gathering one final time?"
Jacques squared his shoulders, facing the monarchs with what remnants of dignity he could muster. "I maintain that my actions were taken in defense of Atlas's interests as I understood them. History is written by those with the power to enforce their version of events. Today, that power belongs to you."
A murmur rippled through the assembled crowd at the former industrial titan's lack of contrition. Even now, facing incontrovertible evidence of his crimes, Jacques Schnee refused to acknowledge the fundamental moral bankruptcy of his position.
Berethon nodded once, as if Jacques's response had confirmed something he already knew. "Very well. The tribunal has reached unanimous decision."
The High King drew himself to his full height, his voice taking on the formal cadence of elven legal pronouncement as he revealed Jacques Schnee's fate: "Jacques Schnee, you are charged with treason of the highest order against the elven crown. You have been found guilty beyond any doubt of historical revisionism, cultural erasure, resource theft under false pretenses, manipulation of public information systems, and attempted regicide."
A collective intake of breath swept through the amphitheater as the gravity of the charges settled over the assembly.
"For these crimes," Berethon continued, "you will be arrested forthwith. All of your assets, both personal and corporate, will be seized and redirected to the reconstruction of Vale, now the capital of the newly formed Albanahr Republic."
Jacques visibly paled, the financial implications of the verdict clearly striking him more deeply than any moral condemnation could.
"Furthermore," the High King concluded, "you will be placed into the custody of the Elven Vanguard until further notice."
Valvaderhn Arkham, the Crimson Knight who had so effortlessly defeated the Ace Operatives, stepped forward from his position at the edge of the tribunal circle. With formal precision, he approached Jacques Schnee and presented a set of restraints that appeared to be crafted from living silver, inscribed with runes that pulsed with subtle energy.
"These will not harm you," Valvaderhn explained calmly, "but they will prevent access to any Aura abilities and ensure your compliance during transport."
As the restraints were secured around Jacques's wrists, the once-mighty industrialist finally showed his first sign of genuine emotion—not anger or defiance, but a flash of fear quickly masked behind practiced composure.
High Queen Hyatan addressed not just the assembly but the global audience watching through the viewing crystals: "Let this verdict serve not as an ending but as a beginning. The seizure of these ill-gotten assets represents not punishment alone, but restoration—the redirection of resources to heal wounds inflicted over generations."
Winter Schnee stepped forward, receiving a subtle nod from the monarchs granting her permission to speak. Her voice carried the precision of her military training but also a new note of authority that had been absent when she operated under Atlas command.
"As the legal heir to the Schnee family legacy," Winter announced, "I formally renounce any claim to assets acquired through deception and exploitation. I further pledge to assist in the comprehensive audit of Schnee Dust Company operations to identify and rectify historical injustices against workers, particularly those of Faunus heritage."
This unexpected addition to the proceedings sent ripples of surprise throughout the watching world, particularly in Menagerie where Faunus communities had long suffered under SDC labor practices.
Ironwood joined her, adding his own statement: "The Atlas Military acknowledges its complicity in enforcing policies built upon historical falsehoods. We commit to a complete revision of our educational and training protocols to incorporate accurate historical accounts of elven civilization and its rightful place in Remnant's shared heritage."
As Jacques was led away by an honor guard of elven warriors, High King Berethon raised his hand to command attention once more.
"This trial represented justice for past wrongs, but our greater purpose must be to build a future where such deceptions are impossible. Beginning tomorrow, the newly established Truth and Reconciliation Commission will welcome representatives from every kingdom to examine the full historical record and establish shared educational frameworks."
High Queen Hyatan concluded the proceedings with words that resonated across kingdoms: "Let history record that today marked not the triumph of one people over another, but the first step toward reunification of cultures long divided by lies. The borders between elven lands and human kingdoms will remain open for peaceful exchange, and the defensive barriers will stand only against creatures of Grimm, never against people of goodwill seeking understanding."
Throughout Remnant, the verdict triggered immediate and varied reactions.
In Atlas, the news created a complex mixture of shame, shock, and cautious optimism. The economic implications of the Schnee asset seizure sent markets into temporary chaos, but the swift announcement that mining operations would continue under joint elven-human oversight—with significantly improved conditions for workers—helped stabilize the situation.
Citizens gathered in Atlas's central square, some protesting what they viewed as capitulation to foreign powers, others openly embracing the opportunity for a more honest engagement with history. The most striking image—captured and transmitted across viewing networks—was of a group of Atlas Academy students ceremonially removing portraits of Jacques Schnee from the institution's halls, replacing them with the newly discovered historical treaty documents showing the original peaceful agreements between humans and elves.
In Menagerie, celebrations erupted spontaneously. The verdict's explicit acknowledgment of Faunus exploitation represented validation of grievances long dismissed by human authorities. Ghira Belladonna addressed his people, calling for measured optimism while emphasizing the opportunity to build new alliances with both elven and human communities committed to truth.
"Today marks not victory for any one people," Ghira's speech echoed across Menagerie's gathering places, "but the potential beginning of genuine equality based on shared history rather than manufactured division."
In Mistral, scholarly communities immediately convened symposiums to examine how their historical records had been subtly altered over generations. Ancient libraries were reopened, previously restricted archives unsealed. The kingdom's traditional reverence for ancestry and heritage made its citizens particularly receptive to the restoration of historical truth, even as political conservatives warned against too rapid embrace of elven influence.
In her distant stronghold, Salem observed these developments with calculated interest. The chessboard of Remnant had been fundamentally rearranged, requiring strategic patience rather than immediate action. Her pale fingers traced the boundaries of the newly established Albanahr Republic on her strategic map.
"Fascinating," she murmured to herself. "They unite where I expected division. They restore truth where lies would have served my purpose better."
A Seer Grimm floated silently beside her, its tentacles rippling with anticipation of commands.
"Withdraw our forces from the borders of the elven territories," Salem instructed after lengthy consideration. "Redirect to the outlying settlements of Mistral instead. We must understand our new opponents thoroughly before engaging them."
The ancient being turned from her viewing pool with rare uncertainty in her normally confident movements. The elves represented a variable she had not accounted for in centuries of planning—a civilization with magical knowledge perhaps rivaling her own, with unity that made them resistant to her typical strategies of division and fear.
"This game has become considerably more interesting," she admitted to the darkness around her.
As twilight fell across the renamed capital of Albanahr, Jacques Schnee found himself in a cell unlike any Atlas prison. The walls appeared to be living wood, somehow both solid and breathing. The single window offered a view of the reconstructed city, deliberately positioned to force him to witness the rebuilding of what his deceptions had helped destroy.
Valvaderhn Arkham stood at the cell's entrance, observing the fallen industrialist with the measured assessment of a warrior who had seen centuries of conflict.
"You will be treated with dignity," the Crimson Knight informed him, "as befits our justice system. Your basic needs will be met, and you will be granted access to reading materials and limited communication with family members who wish to maintain contact."
"And how long am I to be your guest?" Jacques asked, bitter sarcasm evident in his tone.
"Until you understand," Valvaderhn replied simply.
"Understand what, exactly?" Jacques demanded.
The elven commander regarded him thoughtfully. "The difference between wealth and value. Between power and authority. Between winning and being right." He gestured toward the window where reconstruction efforts continued even as night approached. "You will remain in custody until you truly comprehend the cost of the lies you perpetuated—not just to us, but to your own people."
As Valvaderhn departed, Jacques faced the uncomfortable reality that his sentence might indeed be more profound than mere imprisonment. He was being asked to witness the undoing of his life's work and the reconstruction of a world based on truths he had spent decades suppressing.
For the first time since the trial began, Jacques Schnee experienced something beyond anger or fear—a creeping recognition that perhaps his understanding of the world had been fundamentally flawed all along.
On a balcony overlooking the central plaza of Albanahr, Winter Schnee stood beside Ironwood, watching as elven and human workers collaborated on restoration projects that combined technologies and techniques from both civilizations.
"Do you think it will last?" Winter asked quietly. "This cooperation, this... peace?"
Ironwood considered the question with the gravity it deserved. "It will require constant vigilance against those who profit from division. Your father was not alone in his methods, merely the most successful in implementing them."
"Salem will not remain quiet forever," Winter noted, giving voice to the concern that had lingered unspoken throughout the trial.
"No," Ironwood agreed. "But we face her now with allies we never knew we had, with magical knowledge we thought lost to time, and with a united front that spans all peoples of Remnant."
Below them, as if to underscore his point, a group of children—human, Faunus, and elven—played together in a newly established garden, their laughter carrying upward on the evening breeze. It was a small moment, insignificant perhaps in the grand strategic considerations that would follow, but symbolic of possibilities that had seemed impossible merely weeks before.
The verdict had been delivered, justice administered according to ancient laws. But the true judgment of history would depend on what the peoples of Remnant—human, Faunus, and elven alike—built upon the foundations of newly restored truth.
To be continued in Chapter 34: Ripples & Revelations