Professor Ozpin leaned back into his chair with a pensive expression. He was in his headmaster's office, going over two different important reports. The first was a list of the third-years' results in their internships; the student teams had been working with professional Huntsmen and Huntresses across the kingdom for the past two weeks. Some did the traditional work of tracking and wiping out the Grimm, others took on bodyguard or police work. The team leaders would then send detailed reports of their collective experiences for grading. All in all, the results were very pleasing, with three or four individuals showing exceptional promise.

The second report, however, was worrisome. Soto Dane, a veteran from Shade Academy and a loyal member of the brotherhood he had led for thousands of years, had noticed increased levels of Grimm activity in the southern area of Sanus and was investigating. Apparently, there were even new kinds of the creatures popping up. The Faunus was now volunteering to take a closer look, and Oz was already starting to type his approval.

But then his fingers stopped midway. Was this really the best move he could make, or did Salem have a trap in store? Soto's skills were without question, but even the best Huntsmen could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. But if he didn't find out more, a rise of Grimm could threaten many lives not only in Vacuo, but in Vale as well.

Ozpin sighed; this tendency of second-guessing was a cyclical thing that ran throughout all of his lives at various points. Now it seemed like he was back into a maelstrom of doubt. He rose to his feet and poured himself a fresh cup of hot chocolate; a pleasing drink that he had already enjoyed before his time as the next Ozma had come. Some of the headmaster's colleagues and a few brave students joked that he was addicted to it. Sipping away at his mug, he gazed out his window at the outside world. It had been raining recently, and clouds still blocked out the afternoon sky.

They may as well have been a representation of his current thoughts. Salem had squirrelled herself away in a place Ozpin could not reach without practically every single warrior to combat her subjects, and even if they made it so far as to defeat her, then what? No matter what his predecessors had tried, be it fire, steel, what little magic he could still summon or the craziest Semblances one could believe, that damnable curse would always bring her back. And he had to continue inspiring others, man and woman, young and old alike, to fight the Grimm, to hold off her onslaught. All the while, he had to keep convincing others to fight in what appeared to be a hopeless war.

Stop thinking like that, you old fool. The professor chided himself. The Great War was won. There's been relative peace for more than seventy years now. We just need to go a little further, and they can be safely summoned. It can work.

Right. And all it would take is one little push from her and humanity's right back where it started. Another voice, ringing with bitterness and judgement, shot back. Ozpin knew he shouldn't be wasting time with this, there was work to be done-

The elevator chime snapped him out of his thoughts, and he made a mental effort to recompose himself. The doors opened to show a young, tanned girl nervously clutching a bundle of cloth. "Ah, Miss Braun," he said in a pleasant tone, "please come in." The freshman stepped in gingerly, trying rather hard to avoid eye contact. "I must admit, this is rather unexpected. Is there something you wish to discuss concerning your studies or your partner?"

"N-no, professor," Lyra Braun replied as she cradled the cloth. "It's just that I found something strange near the courtyard." Her eyes asking an unspoken question, Ozpin beckoned her closer with a smile. The student carefully placed the bundle onto his desk and unwrapped it. "I've never seen anything like this before, and it just feels… strange. I made sure not to touch it directly as I covered it, professor."

Whatever Ozpin had expected, this object isn't it: it appeared to be a black metal medallion, roughly as wide as the palm of his hand. There weren't any scratches or the like on its smooth surface, except the polished carving of a creature spreading its wings. He frowned a bit; now that he could see it clearly, there was some sort of presence surrounding the medallion, a feeling of energy he could sense with both his Aura and what remained of his magic. No wonder Lyra had detected it, her sensory abilities were near prodigal. But he knew he shouldn't put her in danger. "A curious thing, Miss Braun," he started as they faced each other, "I must confess that I'm not quite sure myself what this… object is. Nevertheless, thank you for bringing it to my office. And I believe your next class with Professor Port will begin shortly, yes?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, looking down at the floor. "My apologies for wasting your time on this."

"Please, no apologies necessary," Oz gently corrected her while leading her back to the elevator. "And no need to look so shy. You're a fine student and a loyal partner to Mister Fenrir, you have a right to keep your chin up." The girl gave him a grateful little smile just before the steel doors closed. Ozpin himself smiled a bit; Team MRBL (Marble) was still a bit rough around the edges, but they had grown already so much since he had first brought them together three months ago. Perhaps they could be another group of potential candidates…

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to consider practically drafting young lives to fight the true threat. Instead, he returned to his desk where the medallion lay. Yes, the presence had a distinct magical feeling to it, but Ozpin knew it wasn't Salem's; spells cast each had a certain "touch" to them, imprinted by their caster. An experienced mage could discern it if they paid attention. And even after all this time, he could never forget the unique sensation of his former love's magic. But could it have come from the God of Light? Or the God of Darkness? Hmm, the carving reminds me a bit of a bat, to be honest, the ancient protector thought as his fingers brushed upon the metal-

When he opened his eyes again, the first thought that came to Ozpin was, how is it that curiosity isn't ranked among the seven deadly sins? He was now lying out in an ally, snowflakes gently falling on him, and wondering where on Remnant he could now be.

Or, as he remembered that there shouldn't be any snow in the late spring, when on Remnant he could now be. Time travel, just what I needed.

Ozpin carefully rose from where he had been lying in the dirty snow and, dusting himself off, had a look at his surroundings. The buildings were of an unfamiliar design, gargoyles and fire escapes on practically each one of them, adding to the dark and frankly depressing sensation they gave off. At there were some festive lights strung up, colors of yellow, green and red. Then again, they also highlighted the pieces of trash fluttering about on the ground, and Oz was fairly certain the dark-red stain on one wall was blood. The sounds of cars and people were coming from further down the short street he was standing near.

All of this was a bit worrisome because, even though the architecture showed similarity to some parts of Mantle (especially in more recent times, unfortunately), it wasn't quite like any city he had visited before. And Ozma had been to practically every part of Remnant at every period of time throughout the lives he had lived. His memory wasn't eidetic, but this was completely unfamiliar to him. Just when he was wondering if he had maybe been sent to a future Remnant, the Huntsman heard voices nearby.

"…This had better be good stuff dis time, Tony. After the crap you pulled-"

"How many times I got to tell ya it wasn't my fault?!" A more stressed than fearful voice replied. "Th' sunnuvabitch Jackson had set me up with floured product, okay?! I put him in the dirt myself, and this here is the real deal." Ozpin reached the corner and cautiously peered around it, one hand drifting to the Long Memory he kept in his jacket pocket. Six men were hovering a couple of boxes set up to act like a table, one in a dark suit examining a packet full of something white. For some reason, both he and the three men behind him were wearing masks that resembled black skulls. Another man in more suitable garb for the winter held an open black case that held more packets while a bigger guy stood behind him, hands in their pockets.

Ozpin didn't need lifetimes' worth of experience to know a drug deal when he saw one.

The masked man pushed up his headware, lightly poked the packet open with a knife and then tasted the powder inside. After a second, he nodded. "Well how 'bout dat, you did right after all, Tony!" he passed back the stuff and snapped his gloved fingers. One of his colleagues retrieved a bulging yellow envelope and moved up.

Tony appeared satisfied. "So, I can count on more orders from your boss?"

"Long as you keep bringing this quality, not a problem. Though, it could be the new year b'fore y' get the next order from us."

"Huh, somethin' come up with Black Mask?"

"You could say that, he's been acting kinda different lately, makin' a lot of talk about big changes. Th' fact we're doin' this gig now is a little Christmas present." They shared a laugh at that while Ozpin tilted his head. Black Mask? Christmas? Not names he'd ever heard of. But before he could eavesdrop a little more, some icicles on top of the building he was hiding behind snapped off under their own weight and shattered on the pavement below, catching the criminals' attention.

They noticed the professor before he could duck out of sight, so he simply sighed and walked into view. "Good evening, gentlemen," Ozpin said in a cordial tone. "My apologies for the disturbance, I was simply in the area."

One of the masked men stepped closer. "Well, lucky you. Fancy tailorin' there. Y'look too good t' be a cop." Another slowly drew a revolver from his jacket while the guy with the product flicked out a knife.

"I can assure you, I'm no policeman, and I am not looking for trouble." Oz answered truthfully, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I've lost my way a bit, though, so if you could be good enough to tell me where I am, I would be very grateful." They had already almost surrounded him. Can't afford to leave witnesses, can we?

"Aw, no worries, pal." The big one sneered. "We're all in the Christmas spirit, so howzabout we show ya a bit more'a the Bowery?"

"Good idea," the masked leader sauntered up to him, twirling his knife. "And maybe in return for our generous service, y' got somethin' for us?" He made to grab the silver handle just poking from out of his jacket-

And then Ozpin flipped him effortlessly onto the ground with one hand. "Normally, I wouldn't say no to hospitality," he kicked the now-ownerless knife out of reach, "but I do not appreciate being intimidated." The professor then extended his cane and spun it before pointing the tip at the stunned rest. "Now then, perhaps we could resolve this without further… unpleasantness?"

Another masked thug snarled, then brought up his fists and moved in, one partner following him while the other with the gun hang back. Sighing quietly, Ozpin settled into a fighting stance as the other two joined in. A shame it always comes to this.

He snapped his cane against one's fists, redirecting them into his friend, before kicking out at the big goon's ankle, making him stumble. Grabbing his collar with one hand, the professor redirected his fall and actually hurled him into the gunman, flattening him and making his shot go wide. The others stared at the sight before rallying themselves. The dealer swiped at him repeatedly before Ozpin jabbed at his chest with the cane's handle. The sound of a crack drew his attention; Did I break bones just now with that move? Either these men's Aura is weaker than anticipated, or they can't harness it. Looks like I need to restrain myself just a bit more. As that one fell, he quickly crouched and spun, sweeping the feet of the remaining two out from under them, then jabbed twice, breaking their masks and their noses.

Ozpin then gazed at each of his fallen enemies, thoughts swirling. None of them had shown any sort of Aura usage, Semblance or otherwise. And he certainly couldn't detect magic from these brutes. Perhaps the people here simply aren't capable of using either, but that could mean that he wasn't even on Remnant anymore. And one of them had said something about the Bowery; could that be his current location?

Then he heard loud blaring as a pair of lights approached. Then the siren stopped, and two doors opened, then shut again. It seems the local authorities are quick to action here. Putting his musings away, the old warrior turned to face a pair of men approaching the site. They wore blue uniforms and carried sidearms, currently aimed at him. "What the hell…?" One muttered at the thugs strewn around the man in a green suit.

"Hands where we can see them, sir," his partner, a younger man than the other, commanded with at least a slight tremble in his voice. Credit where credit was due, he managed to keep his aim steady at least.

"Good evening, officers," Ozpin started calmly, keeping his palms up to show no ill will, his grip on his cane relaxed. "I mean no trouble or harm."

"Really?" the older man sneered, eyeing the thugs and the bags that had fallen out of the suitcase with (as Oz noted) a greedy look. "So then mind telling me why we've got six perps, four of 'em from Black Mask's gang, lyin' around in the snow and some fancy-pants standing all nonchalant over them?"

"Easy, McKain," the partner tried to keep it calm. Probably a rookie, but he doesn't seem as interested in the product as his colleague. An honest one, perhaps? "Sir, you're standing in what's pretty much a crime scene. Tell us everything you believe relevant, we have to consider you a person of interest."

Ozpin nodded in understanding. "Of course. I had simply lost my way on account of a rather… unexpected event, and so I came to encounter these gentlemen." He gestured to the groaning thugs. "It seems I disturbed them while they were doing business, this 'Black Mask' you mentioned, officer," he indicated McKain, "came up, then they took notice of me and approached me in what I perceived to be a threatening manner. Any injuries I inflicted upon them were only meant in self-defense, I assure you both." All the while, one hadn't kept his eyes off the drugs, and the other was growing even more worried. Perhaps it's the lack of panic in my tone. Anyone not a Huntsman would be at least on edge after having to deal with armed criminals. Well, too late now.

"What's with this guy?" The latter asked McKain (How bad does he hear think my hearing is?). "He says he beat up a couple of thugs by himself like we asked him about the weather! You think he's the Bat or something?"

"The Bat?!" The man snickered at that. "You've been hearin' too many ghost stories, Petrelli, the Bat ain't real. These idiots probably beat the shit out of each other, and dis guy just caught a lucky break. Anyway," he lowered his voice as a gleam came into his eyes, the kind that meant someone saw a chance at profit. "looks like we've got our hands on some good stuff here, plus some bragging rights for busting some drug dealers. We just make sure he keeps his mouth shut, and I can talk to my buddy in Narcotics-"

"Are you crazy?!" the kid hissed back alarmed. "Some of these guys are Black Mask's men. Any cop that arrests them gets a target painted on their back, and he's lucky if all he loses is his next paycheck and a finger! Besides," For a moment, Ozpin thought he saw some genuine compassion in Petrelli's eyes before he covered it with a layer of pragmatism, "what do you have in mind for him? I'm not helping you gun down some guy in the Bowery just to make a couple bucks."

McKain just rolled his eyes. "I wasn't gonna shoot him, kid. What do I look like, one of Branden's punks? And keep your voice down, stupid!" He then turned to the professor and acted like they hadn't just talked about selling crime evidence and eliminating a witness while said witness was in earshot. "Alright, pal, you're gonna have to come with us to the station so we can get your statement on the facts. Standard procedure, 'yknow."

"Of course," Ozpin replied evenly; he didn't think the precinct was a safe place, judging by how corrupt (and rather dim) these two patrolmen were alone, but he was reasonably certain he could get more information on what this city was. If things grew tense, he could talk or fight his way out. Hopefully not the latter: no matter how powerful someone was, having an entire city's law enforcement was a strong hindrance.

Moreover, this "Bat" the pair had spoken of…Very curious. Some sort of urban legend? He quickly recalled the medallion's odd shape, and wondered if the 'Bat' had something to do with his presence in this city…

"Good," McKain said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Petrelli, take him to the car. I'll make these guys aren't going anywhere and collect the evidence." Petrelli looked at him skeptically, but then pocketed his gun, tossed over some more handcuffs and motioned back towards the way they'd come.

"Please follow me, sir." Oz nodded, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and followed the young man. He was still a bit nervous, but at least he was trying to look friendly. "I-if you don't mind me asking, sir, isn't that suit a bit cold for this time of year? Don't get me wrong, green works great for Christmas, but…"

Ozpin kept his smile. "No need to worry, this suit is made of a special fabric mix meant to keep me warm. It is a bit chilly, but my clothes are more than sufficient." Not the biggest lie he had told; his clothes were Huntsmen gear, and with his Aura as trained as it was, the falling snow was barely a nuisance. And his shoes kept him from slipping on the frosted-over ground. With Petrelli looking away, Oz quickly collapsed the Long Memory and swiftly attached it to his belt, slightly hidden under his suit. Neither patrolmen seen to have noticed. (A testament to Petrelli's inexperience and McKain's crookedness? Either way, Oz did not bring it up. He didn't fancy having his old weapon/keepsake getting lost or sold off in a strange land.)

Mumbling something about wanting a tailor like that, Petrelli led him to a black-and-white car. Lights were mounted on top while the sides were emblazoned with "GCPD" in blue. Below it, he could make out in smaller letters, "Gotham City Police Department". Gotham City, then. I've never heard of it before, and no matter how much I concentrate, I cannot sense Aura from Petrelli or McKain. Oz' thoughts went in circles and rectangles as he tried to think of what this could mean while Petrelli unlocked the doors when he noticed the clouds had parted around- Oh.

Petrelli opened the back seat but noticed the silver-haired man seemed frozen, staring in the night sky. "Sir?" He asked worried. "Are you okay?"

"Er, yes," Oz quickly recomposed himself, tearing his gaze away from the very much unshattered moon. "I was simply lost in thought for a second there." He quickly slipped through the doorway and buckled up in the right seat. Well. Alternate world it is then. Why not?

Petrelli closed the door and circled the car to the driver's seat, starting it up so the heater would work. A broadcast from radio advised residents to stay indoors on account of a severe storm warning. After a minute or so, McKain's footsteps could be heard as he opened up the trunk and presumably stuffed in the drugs before slamming it shut and getting into what some of Oz' students referred to as, "shotgun." He then said, "There. Done. Now let's get back to base, I could use a fresh coffee."

Petrelli nodded, and they drove back toward the main street. The buildings appeared much the same as where he had first arrived, but more lights and decorations were strewn across them here and there. Some were red and green bulbs, others toys resembling a rotund bearded man dressed in red, and he was certain there was a giant green tree to his right, covered in lights. A shining star was perched on top. It seems like I've arrived during a holiday. This city doesn't otherwise show signs of joy and mirth.

The radio crackling to life snapped him out of his thoughts. "All units, all units, Code ten at Blackgate Prison. Communications is down. Possible 2-11." A female voice announced.

The cops looked at each other in shock. "Delta 6-4, en route." A man replied over the radio.

"Dispatch, five-nine. Confirm code ten-this is a breakout?" A third queried.

"Suspect identified as Black Mask. Repeat: code ten suspect is Black Mask."

Petrelli stared at the radio, then focused on the road. "We-we gotta get over there now!"

"To Blackgate? And stop Black Mask?! Are you nuts, kid? Black Mask is the top dog out there, you kept me from offing his mooks cause you were scared of him! Look, we'll bring this guy to the precinct and act like we didn't hear nuthin' until it was too late. No skin off our bones."

The young man looked in disgust at McKain. He looked like he wanted to say something, then, "All units at Blackgate, Code 6. Code 6. Commissioner Loeb being held captive. Repeat: Commissioner Loeb is 701."

This made both of them shut up quick. Petrelli stopped the car on the side and looked around in fear; outside at the falling snow -and probably where Blackgate was- at the road, at McKain, who was scratching his head under his hat-

And then in the back, at his passenger. Ozpin slid down his glasses and returned his gaze, silently urging him on. You know what to do. There are people at that prison, your colleagues, who need help. If you don't try to do something now, innocent lives will be at risk. Ozpin's look sharpened, punctuating his thoughts with a slight nod, hoping he got the message. Don't let others' corruption stop you from doing what's right.

After a few seconds, Petrelli turned around, took a deep breath, and then started the engine again. "We've gotta help them." McKain went to protest, but he wouldn't have it. "I'm going there, McKain. You want out, get out now."

The older man glared at him, then grumbled, "Ah, you're gonna get yourself killed without me, kid." He then picked up the radio and announced they were en route while Petrelli drove down the street as fast as he could. Oz watched all of this happen with a curious expression; just this morning, he was having a usual day of grading papers and organizing secret measures to protect Remnant, now, he was on another world, being driven by two policemen to a prison where a crime lord had kidnapped their commissioner.

Professor Ozpin, veteran Huntsman, headmaster of Beacon Academy, and latest incarnation of the hero Ozma, couldn't help but chuckle at this entire situation, making the cops look back at him in confusion. Just when I think I've been through everything life can throw my way…

And so it begins…

Welcome, ladies, gentlemen and people who don't answer to either classification, to the prequel of my previous hit, "The Young Wizard and The Bat: Asylum": "The Young Bat and The Wizard"! So, Oz is headed for Blackgate, from there, he will meet a friend, an enemy and a reptile. Not necessarily in that order.

But on a more serious not, I've got tests coming up this month, so I'm afraid I can currently update every two weeks. If I've got more time, I'll post the chapters sooner, I promise. But I've also found myself an excellent editor named MasterPrince713 who has already given me a hand. Together, we'll make this story as juicy as possible, I promise.

So, til next time!