They were calling it "The Breach" with an emphasis on the capital letters and "the" before the name. It was said to be the greatest tragedy in Vale for the last decade, which Doctor Oobleck had taken a personal hand in tearing to shreds in history lessons by pointing out far worse events. The difference was that the breach happened in the middle of Vale, in an up-market area where crime and violence were supposed to be at an all-time low, and during the run up to the Vytal Festival when more attention was on the city.

Simply put, it got more coverage and from there expanded as people exaggerated and stretched out the devastation. Not even Mountain Glenn had as much attention, and the loss of that city had cost tens of thousands of lives.

By the time Teams JNPR and RWBY showed up, the fighting was mostly over, and the breach sealed by the upper years. Their work was disaster relief, in moving rock, tending to the wounded, helping people away and erecting shelters for those whose homes had been damaged. Community service in a sense, but necessary work, especially with hospitals overloaded and police combing everywhere they could for the White Fang.

But the biggest surprise came two days later when Oswald requested his presence in Glynda's office, and then took him onto a Bullhead that flew them to General Ironwood's flagship. Jaune stayed quiet, nervous, and let Oswald direct the conversation.

"I heard your Semblance expanded its range. Have you by any chance dreamed of people in the city?"

"Not since coming back," said Jaune. "I think my maximum range increased but as long as I'm surrounded by people closer by, it seems to default to them. It's been students for the past two nights. A couple of transfers but mostly people I don't know."

"Does that make it easier?"

"Yeah. As horrible as it sounds, it's easier to just let a person's nightmare play out if I don't know them."

"There's nothing horrid about that. Nightmares are not real. I know you would not stand by as they were harmed by real foes." Oswald changed the topic. "I'm rather enjoying having my youth back, though I'm not sure you and the rest of the students would agree."

"You could be a little gentler, sir," Jaune said, carefully.

"Nonsense. You all need to be ready for what is truly out there. Better to bleed now than later."

"But you're working us to the point we collapse!"

"Perhaps, then, you'll all do something about that."

"What?" Jaune asked. "Like attack you? Because we're close."

Oswald smiled.

"Wait, you're serious...? This is some test?"

"Not a test. Even if you attack me, I'll fight back and make that a lesson – and you'll be just as exhausted come the end of it. But I am teaching combat. I am showing you how to deal with your problems violently. If you find me a problem, use violence against me."

"Yeah, and get our asses kicked again."

"Well, giving up and doing nothing will just have me running you all ragged. You'll improve one way or another."

Jaune grumbled. The man was a sadist. "Is General Ironwood really going to let me on his ship?"

"I've spoken with James and gotten assurances. His issues with you are numerous but James is a man of discipline. The breach and the White Fang's involvement is too important for him to ignore. He puts up with Qrow on a regular basis and the two hate one another. He will be fine ignoring you."

Ironwood was waiting for them as they landed in a hangar and shook Oswald's hand. Despite their friction before and Ozpin as good as banishing them from Beacon, the two were able to talk for a few minutes without any indication of enmity. Jaune went ignored, which suited him just fine. Eventually, Ironwood had them follow him down several corridors, through bulkheads, and then past armed security that saluted.

They moved into a room with several metal chairs and a huge screen on the wall, along with numerous controls and audio equipment. Ironwood pushed a button and the screen lit up, flicking through cameras before finally focusing on a singular cell. Inside it, a man with orange hair wearing a white coat was laid out on a metal bench, his knees bent, hands hooked under his head and eyes toward the ceiling.

"Roman Torchwick," Ironwood explained, somewhat needlessly. "He was captured in the aftermath of the breach and evidence points to him having been in charge of the train. He has refused to talk."

"Roman is a career thief but not a terrorist," said Oswald. "His involvement with the White Fang doesn't make sense but, given what we know of Cinder, it's almost certain he's working under her orders."

"He's been offered a plea deal."

"He rejected it, then. Odd. He never struck me as a particularly loyal man." Oswald let out an annoyed breath. "No matter. That's what Mr Arc is here for."

"Indeed." Ironwood regarded him at last, crossing his two human arms over his chest and frowning. "I have everyone on this ship on a sleep rota and many will be given the evening off in Vale to relax after their service in repelling the Grimm. The flagship will run a skeleton crew, all awake. Can you enter his dream?"

"I don't know." Jaune hated the uncertainty in his voice. "With Qrow, it took us being out in the Emerald Forest. I'm not sure how high up we are and how that relates to my range."

"We can ascend further."

"I'm not sure what my range is, at least when it comes to empirical measurements. It's not like it comes with an instruction manual telling me I need to be exactly x-metres away from the nearest person."

Oswald cut in before Ironwood could get angry. "We'll try it anyway. If it fails tonight, we'll think about flying out over the Emerald Forest for another go. The flagship is a good distance away from Beacon, though. At least in a straight line and given elevation. Roman will be the closest sleeping person by far. Assuming we can make their sleep simultaneous."

"I am prepared to pump sleeping gas into the cell block."

Jaune wasn't sure what to make of that rather inhumane sounding statement, and it was clear Oswald wasn't a fan either.

"He's a prisoner and a terrorist and has surrendered all rights through his actions," Ironwood growled. "I have sworn an oath not to resort to torture but anaesthetising him so someone's Semblance can interrogate him isn't that. It's closer to... advanced interrogation."

"That's a slippery slope, James."

"It's a necessity. The White Fang at the breach all died on impact or in their own bombs, and I highly doubt they knew anything of value. Roman has been working with Cinder since before she was even on our radar. If anyone knows things about her, it's him."

"Very well. Mr Arc. Are you willing?"

"Yes. And I'm fine to be put to sleep as well."

Ironwood grunted. "That won't be necessary. There's a chance a forced unconsciousness won't activate your Semblance. I have sleeping pills instead. Clover!" A man came into the room. "Show Mr Arc to the room prepared. The one with its back to the cellblock. Give him the bed prepared." To Jaune, he added, "Your bed will be less than one metre from Torchwick's, through thick metal plate. Take the medication the moment you arrive. We'll have Torchwick asleep before then."

Jaune nodded and was led away.

/-/

While this wasn't the first time he'd tried to "aim" his Semblance under their guidance, it was the first time he'd ever had so much riding on his shoulders in doing so. Qrow had been experimentation and the only consequences for failure would have been having to try again later. Here, he knew that the information gleaned could help Ironwood and Oswald prevent another attack, potentially saving hundreds of lives and bringing Cinder to justice.

This had to be Roman's dream.

A huge, ornate city home with expensive carpets and decorations across the walls. It didn't look familiar. Did Roman live in a place this fancy? Surely not. While crime allegedly paid very, very well, he couldn't imagine the famous thief getting away with having such an obvious home. Surely the city would notice when a place like this was owned or rented by someone who didn't technically have a job.

Maybe this is a place he robbed in the past. The nightmare could be about that.

Letting himself inside, Jaune looked left and right down splitting corridors and chose the one where the paintings on the walls and suits of armour on display were slightly less blurry. The dreamer was that way. The carpet gave way to a long, narrow rug down a hallway with varnished dark wood floor. The walls were similarly panelled, with dark wood halfway up and then green wallpaper with white floral patterns reaching the rest of the way.

Artistic paintings hung with golden plaques under them, and glass-fronted display cases showed off strange goblets and old weapons. This was the home of an eccentric collector by the looks of things. That or the house was serving double duty as a museum of some kind. The sounds of music reached his ears, some classical song playing in the distance, and Jaune made his way toward it, eventually reaching large wooden doors that he placed his hands on and pushed open.

Only to find Roman Torchwick sat in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other, one arm on a wooden table at his side and his other idly twirling a glass of wine.

"It's about time."

Jaune froze. Had he filled in a role in the dream? Was this some moment from Roman's past? He wasn't sure what to do but stand and stare as the thief took a long drink.

"Don't look so flummoxed. Bart's student, isn't it? His new curiosity. You should be careful about that man. He's got a bad record for killing those who ought to be able to rely on him." Roman chuckled at Jaune's shocked face. "Oh, surprised?"

"You're... You're a lucid dreamer...?"

"Oh, I wish. I'd get up to all sorts of fun stuff in my dreams if I was. No, I've simply been made aware of who you are and what you can do. You don't think Cinder would keep something like that to herself, do you? That'd be a little foolish of her."

It was a little embarrassing to admit that he actually had. Cinder came across arrogant and cruel enough to keep everyone in the dark, but of course she wouldn't. There was a good chance Adam Taurus knew about him as well, and maybe even knew Jaune had been in his head.

He might even know he kissed me instead of Blake. Why do I have the feeling he'll take that one a little personally? Damn it all.

"Lost for words, kid? Don't be like that. Take a seat." Jaune tripped as one appeared behind him and swept his legs out from under him. He snapped his aura up, but Roman didn't seem interested in attacking him. "That's better. You and I might be here for hours, after all. We might as well get comfortable. Drink? Wine? Beer?" He smiled sarcastically. "Milk?"

Jaune frowned. "You realise none of it is real."

"Isn't that the best part? All the taste is imaginary but so are the calories." He nodded to the wine in his hand. "A never-ending cup of what my imagination has cooked up as the best wine to ever exist. This will probably spoil me on wine forever."

"I'm not here for wine."

"No. You're here for answers. Sorry, kid. Not interested."

"People have died!"

"People always die. The city forgets about them soon enough. Mountain Glenn's civilians get little more than a minute of silence a year nowadays, and even that's only adhered to out of politeness."

"General Ironwood is willing to make you a plea deal—"

"Already heard it." Roman sipped. "You do know why I'm not interested, don't you? That at least is no secret. It's Cinder. Bitch of a woman is far too dangerous, as you yourself know. All the promises and freedoms in the world won't mean a thing if she can kill me."

"I'm sure Ironwood could protect you."

"Ha. Man can't even protect his prototype weapon. Can't even protect Vale from a bunch of jumped-up faunus civilians in masks. This whole fiasco in Mountain Glenn wasn't exactly subtle, you know. The signs were there. You already rooted Cinder out of Beacon – good work on that by the way – but a man like me has to pick his side, and it's best to pick the winning one."

"What makes you think Cinder is winning?"

Roman smirked. "What makes you think she isn't?"

"Well, she's on the run in Vale, her cover has been blown, and despite this bombing attack you got captured and are a prisoner of Ironwood." For some reason, Roman didn't look concerned with Jaune's logic. "It looks to me like she's on the back foot."

"Word of advice, kid. It doesn't much matter what it looks like to you. What matters is the actuality of it all."

"Then you're saying she's winning...?"

"That's the big question, isn't it? Could be she's not winning but she's ahead enough that the balance is still in her favour. Could be that I know more than I'm giving on. Could be that she's losing, but that I'm in a position to lose harder if I turn on her. Could be a whole lot of things, and it's not my job to lecture you."

Jaune could feel a headache coming on. "Why, Roman? Just... I know a little of your past. I et your teammates in a nightmare of Oobleck's." It was a secret given away, but Roman already knew it. "I know he blames himself. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you after what he did. But why Cinder? It just seems... I don't know. It seems beneath you."

"Me? I'm just a crook."

"You're not." Jaune stared hard at the man. "You're a gentleman thief. And I'm not buttering you up here – I mean that you are a different breed of thief. You're huntsman-trained so you could mug or threaten just about anyone, but you don't. You make life harder on yourself by refusing to take the violent approach. That has to be a conscious choice."

Roman laughed. "Not bad. It is. Sure, I could extort with threats of violence and all, but what would that make me? Just another thug. I like to hold myself above that, and while I'm sure a lot of people would disagree, I think it makes me different."

"I think so too. You're a thief but... well... better someone stealing your belongings and vanishing into the night than leaving you beaten and bloody in an alleyway."

It may have seemed like a small distinction, but Roman could have been like Cinder. Murderous and violent. Instead, he was flamboyant and almost fair. He hadn't killed Ruby when she interfered with his heist in the dust store.

"Though the whole docks thing was a little insane."

"Ugh." Roman rolled his eyes. "You want insane, kid? Talk to your friends. Good lord! I'll be the first to admit they had the right to come and challenge me and all – and I'll never turn down a good bit of cops and robbers – but we were in a place filled with dust and they weren't afraid to start throwing their crazy weapons, dust and Semblances around."

"You were working with the White Fang, though."

"True, but we were only after the dust. And I realise that probably isn't much of an excuse now you've seen what the dust was for, but believe me when I say that wasn't my first choice of how to use it either."

"Cinder's then."

He shrugged. "Obviously. Not much of a secret that, is it?"

"Can I ask some questions?"

"Sure. Can't promise to answer."

"That's fair. But this bomb attack... Did you know this is what the dust would be used for, or were you kept in the dark?"

Roman hummed. "I suppose that's a safe one to answer. I didn't know. Not a big surprise, is it? That bitch is cagey and there was always the chance I might get captured early and forced to squeal one way or another. I did figure it was something explosive, but I'll be honest and say I thought it'd be the walls that would be hit. Something to make a big show and scene, but that would be fixed quickly by the huntsmen. I never expected Mountain Glenn. The tunnels were far too sealed for that, or so I thought."

"What unsealed them?"

"No idea. I was sent to take over the Mountain Glenn stuff toward the end of its operation, so I'll go on a limb and assume it was the White Fang that did it. How they smuggled explosives in and how they avoided detection, I don't know. Maybe that's what the early dust robberies were being used for."

"Did you not suspect?"

"To be honest, kid, I didn't find out about the White Fang until late. The early robberies were me and hired help stealing dust. Now, that might scream BOMB to you now, but at the time you have to remember dust prices were spiralling. I honestly figured this was some corporate scheme, Create an artificial shortage, drive up the price, unload and make tens of millions. It's not like you expect the random chick coming out of nowhere to want to blow a hole in Vale itself, is it?"

"I suppose not. She probably let you believe that to keep you obedient."

"Probably." Roman didn't seem offended at the idea, so Jaune shelved that. He'd thought he could maybe get the man angry about Cinder. He was too in control. "But I never claimed to like or trust her. I'd as soon drop her in a volcano as look at her, but she can be very persuasive, and it's not just my life on the line."

Jaune zeroed in on that. "Oh?"

"Hm?"

"Not just your life?" Jaune prodded. "Is there a Mrs Torchwick? A Torchwick Junior?"

Roman looked horrified. "No! Bloody hell, no. Can you imagine? Ugh." He shivered. "Leaving aside the fact I'd be an awful father, there's the fact that babies are just screaming, vomiting, pooping machines with no redeeming qualities. Besides, how would I get them into a school without being arrested? How would I support them?" He laughed. "No. I've never considered kids."

"Then who is it you need to protect?"

"That's not something you need to know—"

Roman's eyes glanced sideways. Jaune followed it and caught the briefest flash of pink and cream. Subtle, gone in an instant, but there. Had Roman unintentionally let something slip? He was lucid here, but that didn't mean an errant thought wouldn't summon an image.

"Was that Trivia...?"

"Eh?" Roman looked genuinely confused. "What?"

"Trivia. Trivia Vanille. She's... She's a friend of mine. Worked with Cinder but betrayed her."

"Betrayed...?" Roman leaned in. "Hang on now. Describe this Trivia for me."

Jaune did one better and summoned an image of her. She was in the Beacon uniform and, despite not being real, still moved with what Jaune remembered as her personality and mannerisms. As a result, the fictional version of Trivia looked around cluelessly, spotted him, smiled and plopped herself in his lap, then started eating a bowl of ice cream.

Roman burst out laughing.

"This isn't me doing this!" Jaune groaned, face red. "This is just what she was like. I was her personal chair. This isn't wishful thinking or anything creepy. I swear."

"Sure, kid. Sure. You're about that age but there's one thing I don't get. Trivia...? That's a new one. I happen to know someone called Neo."

Jaune's eyes widened. "Neopolitan!?"

"Hohhh...? So you do know her. Interesting."

"I know of her," Jaune said. "But I've never met her for real. It's Trivia's sister." He leaned forward, almost forgetting his mission entirely. "Do you know where she is? Trivia is looking for her. I've seen their past and the way their family treated them. They don't deserve to be separated—"

"Whoah. Whoah. Slow down." Roman waved his hand in front of Jaune's face. "Relax, kid. Phew. That's a lot of noise. I didn't realise you were so interested in her – or their, I suppose – situation. Sisters, huh? I guess that's one way of looking at it."

Jaune hesitated. "Is it wrong...?"

"Not my place to say. If she likes you, she'll want to tell you herself. Still, you say she's split from Cinder. Is that a thing?"

"Yes. Trivia ran away from them and even came to me in another dream to make sure I knew."

Roman leaned back, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. "Well ain't that interesting. This is news to me. How recent was this?"

"Only a week and a bit ago."

"New, then. Makes sense why Cinder wouldn't want to tell me. Heh heh heh..." He let his head loll backwards. "Good on her. I didn't think the little minx had it in her, but I'm glad to see I was wrong." He laughed a little more. "Tell you what, kid. How about I make a deal with you? Something special."

"Go on."

"You bring me proof – in the waking world – that N— That Trivia has split from Cinder. I don't care how you do it but bring me concrete proof. You do that and I'll not only sign Atlas' little plea deal. I'll roll all over Cinder. I'll tell them everything I know and more." Roman took a drink, leaned back, and cocked an eyebrow. "How does that sound for you?"

"Good. It sounds good. What proof would you need?"

"A visit from her would be too risky for her to try. How about..." He smirked. "Ask her to give you something I'd recognise. Something she knows I'd be able to tell was given willingly from her to you. Do that and I'm all yours."

It was the best deal they could hope for. Now he just needed to figure out how to find her.

"Anyway," said Roman. "I'm going to enjoy this lucid dreaming experience, so you might want to vacate."

Before Jaune could ask what that meant, the doors opened and naked women poured in, dancing and rolling about the floor, all oiled up and shining. Jaune's jaw hung open. His face flamed red when Roman stood, women draping off his arms, and laughed at the top of his lungs, allowing the women to shed off his coat.

His laughter chased Jaune out the dream.