So it is done

The end of war

Professor Ozpin always, at least in the eyes of those who occasionally paid him a glance, looked the same. The same stature, the same manners, even the same way of dress.

Politicians drooling over the next debate, teachers cheerfully seeing off their graduating class, newly minted Hunters weeping at feeling the first bitterness of loss that came their way, but Professor Ozpin always remained immovable. In a way, almost always unchanged like a statue.

His posture might be slightly more relaxed or tense, his cane might be placed an inch to either side, his glasses might rest lower or higher on the bridge of his nose, exposing or hiding his sharp eyes. Throughout his tenure as headmaster, he rarely changed the way he dressed, despite some fashion magazines decrying his lack of ostentatiousness.

No, through generations of Hunters that had graduated from his school, Ozpin remained unchanged.

Should one of his past students, or a passing acquaintance, be asked to describe him, no matter how long they had graduated or how brief their acquaintanceship, their description would not deviate far from reality.

No matter how much time passes, or how many tragedies happen, even if they're at his hands. Ozpin remains the same.

Of course, Ozpin was not a heartless machine, he was capable of feelings and even expressing them. He could at least act like he does.

Having spent millennia in his war against Salem, living through hundreds of generations of humans, Ozpin had long since weaned himself from many feelings. The most horrifying tortures, the most grandiose triumphs, the most tragic defeats – none of them reached the soul of the immortal manipulator. It was simply nothing more than another small detail in his eternal life's journey.

What was the point of a man worrying about something that would only be meaningful for a day or a few hours? For a person, a tragedy that would destroy their life, is nothing more to Ozpin than hitting a pinky toe on a sharp corner, a flash of pain that would soon be forgotten.

What was the point of Ozpin worrying about something that would only be felt for a few decades, a lifetime for a normal person, but barely a blink of the eye for Ozpin. The loss of a friend, the death of a subordinate, the betrayal of a family? Just a few decades and the past would be erased into a single gray mass of events.

So, was it worth it for Ozpin to worry about it?

Until recently, Ozpin had thought that such strong emotions had completely left him. That there was barely any emotion left in him to react to something like a death with more than a stoic acceptance.

But, as it turned out, despite what felt like an eternity of attending funerals of those close to him, he would still feel something for someone's impending death. He had stood by many a close subordinates, some that he even personally liked, as they were wasting away at their deathbed, sometimes for years, and he had felt nothing.

Turns out, his deadened emotions could still feel something. It just needed to be about a singular person in particular.

Salem.

It's quite funny really, no matter how Ozpin could see the similarities between them, just how extensive his information networks, and his personal brilliance, Jonathan was never quite able to solve the mystery. He never quite understood why Ozpin had shown up at Kali Belladonna's birthday banquet, eventually coming to the conclusion that it was to change Jonathan, to push him down a new path.

Well, that was true, from a certain point of view, however Jonathan was unable to reach the last, necessary step, to reach the end of this chain of thought.