Duality

The afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of Beacon Academy's lecture hall as Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck paced energetically in front of the class. His rapid movements matched the cadence of his speech as he delved into the history of Faunus rights and the discrimination they faced.

"The Faunus, for centuries, have endured systemic inequality and social prejudice," Doctor Oobleck explained, gesturing emphatically. "This culminated in the rise of the White Fang—initially a peaceful advocacy group, later becoming... something else entirely."

Team RWBY listened intently, each member engaged in their own way. Ruby scribbled notes at lightning speed, Weiss maintained her characteristic air of skepticism, Blake leaned forward with a mix of interest and empathy, and Yang tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the desk.

As the discussion progressed, Cardin Winchester, seated a few rows behind Team RWBY, muttered loudly enough for the class to hear, "Animals shouldn't have rights. They should be put down—for everyone's good."

The room fell silent. Doctor Oobleck paused mid-stride, his usual frenetic energy replaced by a disapproving frown. Blake's hands clenched into fists, and her Faunus ears, hidden beneath her bow, twitched.

"People like you," Blake began, her voice steady but sharp, "are the reason the White Fang exists. Your ignorance and hatred fuel their fire."

Yang joined in, adding mockingly, "You're not exactly an open-minded thinker, are you, Cardin? And somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

Ruby nodded, agreeing with her sister.

Crimson wore a thoughtful expression. "While he is not right" he said evenly, "he's not entirely wrong either."

All eyes turned to him in shock as he continued, "The White Fang will likely needed to be exterminated one day. Their cause is already lost."

The room erupted into whispers and exchanged glances. Blake, prepared for many rebuttals, had not expected someone to agree with Cardin of all people.

"That's..." Ruby stammered, searching for words. "How could you say that?!"

Crimson met her gaze calmly and shrugged. "Maybe it's not the most savory thing to say, but that doesn't make it any less true."

Doctor Oobleck, sensing the tension, interjected. "Mr. Rose, such a perspective is... troubling, to say the least. Do you care to elaborate?"

Crimson nodded, his voice steady as he spoke. "When a group is oppressed unreasonably, they often start a movement of change with righteous causes—seeking justice or equality. But when their methods escalate, they risk becoming the very thing they stood against. The White Fang isn't a group of advocates anymore; they're extremists. Terrorists. They're no longer fighting for equality—they're lashing out in vengeance. History has shown that movements like this spiral out of control. When that happens, they'll need to be stopped."

The class was stunned into silence.

Blake broke it. "That's not true! You think the entire White Fang should just disappear because of a few bad apples? You're proving their point—Faunus will never have equality with humans if people like you discriminate against all Faunus because of the misguided few."

Crimson shook his head. "Think of it as one apple, if part of it starts rotting the rest will follow soon. Besides, equality itself is an illusion to begin with. It's not just about humans and Faunus. Humans themselves aren't born equal. Some are born stronger, smarter, or more talented. To claim otherwise is naive."

Blake scoffed. "That's a rather cynical worldview."

Crimson turned to face her directly. "Cynical, but true. Equality is a lie perpetuated by the weak to justify their actions. People are inherently unequal—some are better, others worse. The world is not fair, and it never will be. Instead of demanding equality, the Faunus should aim for a realistic solution—to build and thrive in their own communities. Once they are respected and valued for their contributions, they can naturally access better opportunities and advantages."

Blake's fists trembled on the desk. "That sounds like you're justifying the status quo. How can you expect Faunus to 'thrive' when the systems in place are built to oppress them?"

Crimson sighed. "The goal isn't to justify the system; it's to recognize reality. Change doesn't come from demanding what doesn't exist—it comes from building something better. The Faunus can't expect perfect equality, but they can create strong, respected communities. That's something tangible. Something achievable."

Crimson paused briefly before continuing. "Personally, I do think White Fang terrorism is a necessary evil at this point, despite the unfortunate casualties. They served their initial purpose—being a model for all Faunus and advocating for a better world. Next, they will serve as an example and a reminder to both Faunus and humans alike."

Blake was thoroughly disturbed. Something about the way he spoke unsettled her. His calm, steady voice, devoid of any emotion, gave him a surreal quality—as if his words were set in stone, a matter of "when" rather than "if."

The tension in the room was palpable. Doctor Oobleck clapped his hands to regain control. "An... interesting perspective, Mr. Rose. While I may not agree with all your points, I am glad you've put thought into it instead of resorting to blind hate. But I do have a question for you: What if one of this 'necessary evil's' casualties was one of your sisters?"

Crimson pondered the question silently. [I want to live peacefully, cherish my family, and have descendants in the future. But what would I do if that was taken from me?]

Deep down, he knew what kind of person he was. He didn't want to stray away again, but if everything is threatened, he won't show mercy.

Doctor Oobleck, observing Crimson's contemplative look, felt a small glimmer of hope. He had posed the question to challenge the young man's detached perspective, hoping it would lead him to a new understanding.

Finally, Crimson spoke carefully. "If that were to happen… I wouldn't be happy. And they would know what equality really means."

The students found his answer anticlimactic, but they didn't dwell on it. Some thought he might be having second thoughts. Doctor Oobleck, however, understood the deeper meaning behind the words and made up his mind—he would inform Ozpin. This young man harbored dark thoughts.

As the class resumed, the atmosphere remained heavy. Blake stared angrily at Crimson, refusing to accept what she had heard. Weiss, though outwardly composed, found herself somewhat agreeing with some of his points. Yang and Ruby glanced at their brother uneasily. This was the first time they had heard him express such cold reasoning, and it gave them a new perspective on him.

To Ruby, especially, Crimson's words clashed with her ideals. Reconciling the brother she admired with his detached perspective left her feeling deeply unsettled.

______________________________________

In the late evening in Beacon Academy, the heavy atmosphere from earlier in the day had fully dissipated, and laughter now filled the space as Crimson sat with Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang.

"Okay, okay, so if the Dust reacts like that, then what happens if…" Ruby's voice trailed off as she gestured wildly, a confused expression crossing her face.

Crimson chuckled softly and pointed to the diagram in her notebook. "If you charge Dust like that, it destabilizes and… well, boom."

Ruby nodded fervently, scribbling down his explanation. "Got it!"

Yang leaned back in her chair, smirking. "You are really good at this, Crimson. You should ask the headmaster to employ you to teach classes"

Crimson was amused by Yang, but even if given the opportunity, he wouldn't become a teacher, tutoring his sisters is a special case.

Weiss, seated primly at her desk, adjusted her notes and spoke to Blake. "He's an excellent study partner, actually. His understanding of the material is remarkably thorough." She hesitated before adding, "Though I still find some of his perspectives… unconventional."

Blake, sitting on her bed with her book propped open, glanced up. Her amber eyes held a hint of wariness. "Unconventional is one way to put it." She'd been observing Crimson throughout the afternoon, and while she couldn't deny his patience and knowledge, his earlier comments in class lingered in her mind. Still, she conceded inwardly that he was… surprisingly normal in casual interactions.

The atmosphere in the room was relaxed, a stark contrast to the tension from earlier. Even Weiss—normally quick to critique—found herself appreciating Crimson's insight. As they worked together, the room hummed with the sound of pages flipping and pens scratching against paper, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.

______________________________________

Meanwhile, in Ozpin's office, a far more somber discussion was unfolding. The dim light of the room matched the mood as Glynda Goodwitch, Doctor Oobleck, and Peter Port sat across from Ozpin, their expressions varying degrees of concern.

"Doctor Oobleck," Ozpin began, his tone measured, "you mentioned a troubling answer in your class today. Could you elaborate?"

Oobleck adjusted his glasses, speaking quickly but clearly. "Yes, Headmaster. During a discussion about Faunus rights, I posed a question to challenge perspectives. Mr. Rose's response was… unexpected, to say the least. His first instinct was to consider the eradication of the White Fang—not as a last resort, but as a natural inevitability. For someone so young, such a response suggests a mindset shaped by… unconventional experiences."

Ozpin and Glynda exchanged a glance, both frowning. Glynda spoke first. "That's concerning. From what we've observed and Qrows descriptions and stories, Crimson is kind and helpful, especially with his sisters. His actions suggest someone grounded in compassion."

"Indeed," Ozpin agreed, his fingers steepled. "Yet, there's an undeniable contradiction in his behavior. A boy who demonstrates such care for his family should not arrive at such a detached perspective so easily. It suggests there is more to him than meets the eye."

Peter Port, who had been uncharacteristically silent, finally interjected. "Headmaster, if I may? I had a similar experience with the boy in my class today. I asked him about the scariest monster one might face and how to respond. His answer… it was profound. He spoke of monsters not as Grimm but as people—those who hide their cruelty behind facades of civility. And when I asked what one should do when faced with such a monster, his response was simply, 'Walk away.'"

The room fell silent, the weight of Port's words settling over the group.

"Initially," Port continued, his tone unusually subdued, "I had hoped to broaden his understanding of the dangers in our world, to teach him something valuable and what it really means to be a huntsman. But as he spoke, it became clear… he already knows. Perhaps more than any student I've ever taught. It's as if he's seen the worst the world has to offer and carries that knowledge with him."

Glynda frowned deeply, her mind racing. "If that's true, it raises even more questions. How could someone so young have such a perspective? And what does it mean for his potential as a huntsman?"

Ozpin's gaze turned contemplative as he leaned back in his chair. "Crimson is an enigma. His intellect and demeanor suggest someone far beyond his years, yet he remains approachable and grounded—at least on the surface. We must tread carefully. He may hold answers to questions we haven't yet thought to ask."

The group nodded in agreement, the conversation leaving an air of unease as they pondered the mysteries surrounding the young man. Ozpin's eyes flicked to the glowing gears of his office clock, a silent reminder that time would reveal the truth—but only if they were patient enough to uncover it.