A Fairly Reasonable Crashout (RWBY Adam SI) ch 41

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Ironwood sat silently and still. The ticking of the grandfather clock rang in his ears while the rumbling of airship engines echoed outside.

Geyer was gone. Judging by the bodies left behind, her party had sprung her out. It was right to think she would be sent there, but the woman wouldn't want to risk her home getting burned to the ground. If anything, she would be trying to leave. She was not gone, not completely. Her words echoed inside his mind.

"General Ironwood?" a voice spoke up.

He turned. A woman stood, her uniform crisp and white, a scroll in her hand. "He will see you now."

He took a breath, then stood.

Atlas was governed by two powers. The Schnee Dust Company's influence was vast, its dominance obvious to anyone who looked. The second power was quieter, though no less formidable. It stood above even the Council, a presence both shadowy and undeniable. Ironwood had encountered this force only a few times. His last meeting with them had been ceremonial, a congratulatory gesture for the graduates of Atlas Academy. This time, the circumstances were far from celebratory.

The gallery stretched wide before him, its grandeur imposing. His nose took in polished wood and ancient stone. Arched windows reached skyward, flooding the room with pale light that painted sharp shadows against the marble floor.

His boots struck the ground with precision, each step echoing briefly before vanishing into the room's vastness. Along the walls, portraits of long-departed figures gazed down at him. Their faces were stern, their eyes unyielding. Above, on the second floor, a figure loomed behind a wooden balustrade, cloaked in shadow.

Ironwood came to a halt at the center of the room. His hands clasped behind his back, his posture unflinching. He raised his head without hesitation. "I am here as requested."

"General Ironwood," a voice said, low and commanding.

Ludenstahl leaned forward from the shadows, his face as hard as granite. "Do you know why you've been summoned?"

Ironwood's tone was calm, steady. "For the Supreme Army Commander to screen me, sir."

Ludenstahl appeared unconvinced. "Atlas is in peril. Solitas is restless, one of our councillors has gone rogue, and rebellion brews in the countryside. The Schnee Dust Company is deploying Atlesian Knights into Mistral, sparking unrest among the Faunus. Chaos is spreading."

Ironwood remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"And the Grimm," Ludenstahl continued. "Their activity has surged. Reports from Vale, Mistral, and Vacuo all confirm the same. This instability feeds the fear of our people. It cannot be allowed to continue."

Ironwood let the weight of the words settle, his mind turning over the possibilities.

"What is your solution, General?" Ludenstahl's words carried an edge, sharp and expectant.

"You will be a janitor to them," Geyer mocked. 

Ironwood pushed aside the ghost of Geyer's taunting voice. "Sir," he began, his voice calm but firm, "while decisive action is necessary, a more measured approach may be required for lasting results. The issues we face are connected. Force alone will not resolve them."

"Not force?" Ludenstahl arched a brow, his tone skeptical.

Ironwood met his gaze evenly. "A heavy-handed response risks entrenching opposition. The unrest in Solitas must be addressed at its roots. Recent missteps have eroded faith in Atlas. To repair that trust, we must act with both accountability and restraint."

"How do you propose we achieve that?"

"Our first priority must be the people of Solitas. Their fears must be acknowledged, and their grievances addressed. Turning to violence would only deepen the divide. Instead, we must rebuild their trust in Atlas through reforms. These reforms will be difficult but necessary."

Ludenstahl leaned back, his expression unreadable. "What kind of reforms?"

Ironwood's voice did not waver. "Corruption within the ranks must be uprooted. Officers who have failed in their duties must step down. New elections should be held to show the people we are willing to hold ourselves to the same standards we expect of them."

"You would dismantle the authority of Atlas?" Ludenstahl's tone carried a sharpness like a blade.

Ironwood's gaze did not falter. "The people's rebellion stems from their opposition to the current authority. Remove what drives their anger, and they will have no cause to rise against us. Stability must come first."

"You understand, General, that this will take time?"

Ironwood gave a curt nod. "Which is why we must act immediately. Promoting me will demonstrate that the Atlesian Military is committed to change. Once I assume my new role, I will begin cleaning up the ranks. Officers who have brought shame to Atlas will be removed. Their positions will be filled by younger, untainted leaders."

Ludenstahl's eyes narrowed. "And this cleanup...will it include Supreme Army Command?"

The room fell silent as expectant eyes bore down on Ironwood. He stood firm, his voice steady and deliberate.

"If accountability is to be restored, no one can be exempt. That includes Supreme Army Command. Trust cannot be rebuilt if the people believe we are above consequence. Leadership demands sacrifice, regardless of rank. For the good of Atlas."

Ludenstahl's gaze lingered, cold and unyielding. The silence between them grew heavy, as if the vast chamber itself was holding its breath. The portraits on the walls seemed to watch, their painted eyes fixed on the unfolding moment.

"You speak of sacrifice," Ludenstahl said, his voice low and deliberate, "but do you understand the cost of what you propose? Atlas thrives on strength, General. It does not bend; it does not compromise. Reforms may win the hearts of the masses, but they will weaken us in the eyes of our enemies."

Ironwood's jaw tightened, though his expression remained calm. "Strength is meaningless without trust. The people are the foundation of our power. Lose them, and Atlas crumbles, no matter how many soldiers or weapons we command. If we do not act, we risk rebellion from within while facing threats from without. That is a battle we cannot win."

Ludenstahl rose slowly, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the marble floor. The sound of his boots against the stone was deliberate and measured as he descended the stairs from the balcony above. His presence filled the room, a force that demanded attention.

"You assume," Ludenstahl said, his voice hard, "that the people can be swayed by gestures of goodwill. That they will see strength in humility. History does not favor such idealism. It favors those who act decisively, without hesitation."

Ironwood stood his ground, meeting the older man's piercing stare. "History also remembers those who fell because they refused to adapt. The world is changing. If Atlas does not change with it, we will be left behind, vulnerable to enemies who understand the value of unity and trust. The people will not rally behind a kingdom that rules through fear alone."

Ludenstahl stopped a few paces from Ironwood, his expression unreadable. The room seemed to shrink around them, the air growing heavier with tension.

"You believe you are the one to lead this change?" Ludenstahl asked, his voice quieter now but no less firm.

"I am the only who can," Ironwood said simply. "There is no one senior enough that the public will trust. No one junior enough that the Army and Navy will take seriously. Atlas needs a leader who can see beyond the immediate conflict, someone who can balance strength with wisdom. I am prepared to do what is necessary, no matter the personal cost."

Ludenstahl stared, well and truly. Then he turned, hands clasped behind his back. Ironwood's eyes followed him. "It is a sad day, truly, that we now come to a point where we must give the reigns of state to a dreamer and idealist." He commented. 

"It is not idealism, sir, but practicality," Ironwood retorted. "There is no possible way the public will accept things as they are now. Our ranks are tainted with officers who rely on the SDC for promotion, and not their chiefs. Jacques Schnee's continuous existence will destabilize us further. Geyer's whereabouts is unknown, and as you say, the faunus are rising. To keep to that, now, is total and utter foolishness." 

Ludenstahl stopped mid-step, his shoulders stiffening slightly, though his hands remained clasped behind his back. He turned his head just enough for Ironwood to catch the edge of his profile, the faintest glint of his sharp eyes cutting through the dim light of the chamber. "Foolishness, is it?" he said, his voice like grinding stone. "You speak with such certainty, General, as if the world will bend to your logic alone. Do not mistake desperation for practicality, nor assume that the people's loyalty is so easily reclaimed. You are right that Atlas teeters on the brink, but do not forget that it is strength, not sentiment, that has kept it standing this long. If you are wrong, Ironwood, if your 'practicality' falters, the fall will not be yours alone: it will belong to every soul under our banner. That is the weight of what you are asking."

Ironwood did not steal away his gaze. "Yet, sir, we come to this point because of past decisions. The SDC should have never been allowed to overreach. SAC should not have just allowed Jacques to dig his teeth into our necks." 

Ludenstahl's jaw tightened. He approached Ironwood, murder in his eyes. Ironwood stood firm, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blazing. The two men glared at one another...before Ludenstahl exhaled. Calming himself, the elderly Marshall glanced away, to the banners of Atlas hanging on the rafters. 

"As much as I want to throttle you, you are correct in that regard," Ludenstahl clicked his tongue. "Do you know why we tolerated him, General?" 

Surprise came out of Ironwood's face. Of all the things he would have expected, the literal chairman of the SAC admitting that to him was not one of them. Still, he recovered and spoke. 

"It should never have come to pass," Ironwood retorted. 

"Perhaps," Ludenstahl acquiesced. "But you of all should remember what Jacques gave this Kingdom. Yes, the SDC was profitable under Nicholas. But under Jacques, it took us to new heights. Jobs were created, our economy flourished. The Great War bankrupted us twice over. Jacques changed that. The money that lifted Atlas from poverty and deprivation, the money which allowed us to remain strong while the other Kingdoms faltered, it was all paid for by the SDC." 

​He clicked his tongue. "It doesn't matter now, I suppose. Boundaries have been crossed and once crossed, new lines have to be set." 

​Aged eyes met Ironwood's. "I will approve your promotion, Ironwood. It does not take an idiot to realize that the establishment now cannot be trusted by the rabble. Atlas will be re-organized but slowly. The situation is desperate but not hopeless." 

"Do you know why I am telling you this, James?" Ludenstahl asked. Ironwood shook his head. 

"I am telling you this because you will be making decisions that you think is right but in time, it will bite you back. Remember that before you decide to cast SAC to judgement," Ludenstahl drawled. 

"But opened up Atlas to what we have now," Ironwood bit back.

"No decision is without its consequence. No decision is truly good or bad," Ludenstahl clicked his tongue. "Can you ever make the best choices, Ironwood? Can you ever ensure that everything you do is the right one?" 

Ironwood's jaw clenched, his lips curling as if the taste in his mouth had turned foul. A single word pressed at the edge of his tongue, burning hotter the longer he stared.

"You may hate me now. And you are right to feel that," Ludenstahl snorted. "But when you are at the top, you must make certain decisions that will preserve the common good. You have the luxury of not being anywhere important to feel the warmth of idealism. When you are the mountain top, Ironwood, you feel nothing but how cold it is." 

"No, I refuse," Ironwood bit back, his voice a growl. "I-" 

"You can refuse as much as you want. Circumstance will force you to make decisions that you will not like but will have to do," Ludenstahl retorted. "In the past, we tolerated Schnee for the lien. Now, we tolerate you to save Atlas. One can only wonder what unpleasant decision you will have to make when it is your time, James." 

​And with that, he turned. "Get out. And come back when this chaos is over." 

Ironwood snapped his heels together. "Sir." It was without warmth. 

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A/N: More to be added. 

Apolocheese for the lateness. Uni is upon me.