A/N: Hey. Here's the story of a younger Winter going through Atlas Academy. Hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is appreciated.
Have fun!
~Angel and Hel
Chapter One: New Beginnings
-.-.-
A new year, a new influx of students. They poured in through the main gates of the prestigious Hunter Academy clad in unique armours, outfits, and more. Alas, only several small handfuls would make it past the Trials.
Atlas was different from the other Academies. Their government and military and academies were all one and the same. They didn't care who you are, who you were, only who you will be.
And if you were going to be the person they wanted you to be?
You got in.
No background checks, no scrutiny, nothing. If a Grimm was capable of passing the Trials, they would have gotten in too.
It was near perfect for Winter. The only issue would be getting to the Trials unrecognised. Once through, it wouldn't matter. But every noise - that could be one of her father's men, ready to return her home from her 'foolish jaunt'.
She'd show him a foolish jaunt. Going on and on about how the security of the kingdom was at stake then refusing to let her defend it. Moron.
She felt cold, the chilling breeze brushing over her newly bare neck. While removing the long Schnee hair had been a good move - and a nice piece of symbolism - she missed the weight of it. And on top of all that, she had to wear this stupid puffy coat to hide her figure. Nothing said Schnee like immaculate fashion, and fashion like this was decidedly un-Schnee.
It still grated to wear it.
With so many young hopefuls coming with her, it didn't take long before she was getting bumped. The snowfall chilled the air to an almost painful degree for anyone who wasn't a local. The frost-tipped peaks were almost permanently coated in ice and snow.
The jostling was understandable, but perturbing. It took all her considerable will not to turn to the oafs who lumbered past and ask them whether they had the slightest concept of personal space, or a thousand other cutting remarks that would start a fight that would attract attention. Winter didn't want attention - but it was hard to keep quiet amidst the constant press of others.
There was a smell of alcohol in the air, too. It got stronger and stronger until suddenly a massive woman built like an Ursa bumped by her. Or, more accurately, shoulder-barged her out of the way. Winter wasn't exactly rushing, but whoever this woman was, she was taking much larger strides.
She did her best to restrain her rage that begged her to reach out and snag the insolent wretch with a glyph, ask them what they thought they were doing smashing through their fellow pupils and ask if they knew the legal drinking age in Atlas and whether they thought they could get away with such behaviour at the academy.
But -
Attention. Such a righteously deserved dressing down would attract attention. She couldn't afford that. Couldn't afford to be noticed as anyone other than another applicant til after the Trials. Silence, calm, one foot crunching forward in front of the other.
The academy itself was built into the mountainside overlooking the ocean and the coastal city underneath. Unlike other academies, the natural barriers surrounding Atlas were quite adept at keeping Grimm at bay.
The near constant Nevermore and Griffon strikes did wear down everybody's nerves, though, despite the reassuring presence of several Cruisers in the sky.
Would she serve on one one day? The thought was - the press of people, the small steel beds - unpleasant. Too close to home too.
No, she'd become one of those roaming specialists. Seeking out quiet, far-gone nests of Grimm, taking them out lethally, precisely, and alone. Didn't hurt that her father had said how they were a… 'waste of budget that could be spent on quashing further civil unrest, or on improving our navy.'
The military was a certainty. Anything else could be seen as 'teen rebellion against authority'. Joining another authority though, one he despised, one that helped others - well, that was perfect. She did her best not to smirk.
Almost everyone had their gear carried in with them. That foul-smelling wretch ahead of her had a giant shield slung over her arm. A young man beside her carried a blade-limbed crossbow. Another girl seemed to be wielding some sort of… assault rifle? Shotgun? She couldn't tell.
Hunters across Remnant were known for having their flashy, 'heroic' outfits. Grimm attacked negativity and inspiring hope was one way of combating that - though Winter herself was simply going to inspire respect, and not dress in those hideous midriff bearing nonsense outfits she'd seen some competitors wear in the Vytal tournament. No, she was going to be an impressive figure, one who inspired hope via her capabilities, rather than appearing colourful and falling flat at the hurdle of combat.
Practical. Efficient. Effective.
The metal sheets of the Atlas Academy were practical, efficient, and effective too. In places like Vale, stonework might be more appropriate. But here in the icy, ore-rich mountains of the Mantle, metal was abundant.
As was Dust.
They filed in through the gates, the doors, and finally, they were inside. Holographic screens were everywhere. Pillars supporting the floor above were every few meters. A grand hall may have been impressive to some, but to Winter, they were making use of the space they had available, and that was admirable.
Following the signs down the labyrinthine halls, they eventually made their way to a massive auditorium. A colosseum within the mountain. Up on the stage stood General Ironwood, impressive as usual. He looked as strong as the thick, rigid pillars that lined the room.
Once everyone was in, the doors shut and the lights dimmed, leaving the spotlight on Ironwood.
"Thank you all for coming," he began. "It warms my heart to see how many people volunteer for this life, to protect others so that they may live peaceful lives."
That was where the formalities ended.
"As you all should be aware, this is an Academy. We will train those of you who can get in to become Hunters and Huntresses. We will not be training you to become heroes or heroines. We will not be training you to become loose cannons with wild aim and insane ambitions."
She resisted the urge to snort. She didn't think anyone who actually made the trek up here would think they'd be some sort of action movie Spruce Willis hero who didn't play by the rules. She certainly had no intentions of doing so. As long as the rules existed for a logical reason, why not follow them?
"Discipline is key to beating the Grimm and here you will learn it. You may have fought Grimm before, but when you leave this academy, you will not fight Grimm, you will hunt them. Track them down, and kill them, to keep our nations safe."
He stopped, hands folded behind his back. "But first, you must enter this academy. I don't imagine any of you have come here unfamiliar with our way of handling things, but there are widespread rumours and misinformation about our Trials." Winter could hear the capitalisation on that last word, the emphasis he put on it. "The Trials can be lethal. We do not have many fatalities, but there are a number every year. Should you die, we will identify and inform your family. They will be paid a full military pension as though you were an officer who died in combat. There are three stages to the Trials. Of Wit, of Speed, and of Strength. At each one your skills, your improvisation and your teamwork will be tested against unfamiliar opponents and environments. Passing all three grants you entrance to the academy. The majority of you will fail. That is how these Trials are designed. Do not be surprised if this is more challenging than whatever foe or test you have faced before. We are here to train the elite to become the best, and as loathe as I am to admit it, not all of you fall into that category." His head hung for a moment. He was a remarkable orator, better than her father had given him credit for.
"But, partial success will be credited with entrance to our military boot camp. Your skills can be used elsewhere than directly as a hunter, and we recognise that, and your drive and willingness to succeed." His gloved fist hammered into the podium. "Whoever you are. Wherever you have come from. We will reforge you into a fist of steel to drive back the beasts that threaten the world. You will be Hunters!"
A rallying roar went up from the assembled young hopefuls. There weren't any words that made sense, just a loud chorus of enthusiasm and support and pride for their kingdom.
Winter tried not to wince. Patriotism was impressive and good, but best enjoyed from a distance.
"Urgh," a little girl that was barely tall enough to reach Winter's shoulder shuffled next to her, covering her ears. "So loud…" she grumbled, her eyes covered by an odd orange blindfold.
The corners of Ironwood's mouth twitched upwards slightly as his expression softened for a moment. "Alright, that's enough, settle down now," he chuckled. "You will be separated into five streams. Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Within these streams you will face the Trials. Remember what we represent here; discipline and unity. I would wish you all good luck… but if that's what it takes to get in, then you don't deserve it."
"Luck would be nice," the girl grumbled, tilting her head to the side a little as she almost eerily stared up at Winter. "What do you think?"
A stranger was talking to her. Shit. She was unlikely to be a plant - not the kind her father normally employed - but even so, to engage too deeply was to risk her identity being compromised. But standing around like a dolt and not replying either would also attract attention so -
"It might be useful." She turned her head away. There, the conversation was over. Crisis averted -
"Hmph. Useful. It could be the difference between life and death. But he's right. If you need luck you just haven't planned well enough, have you?" She seemed innocent, but Winter could have sworn there was a tinge of smirk in there.
"Yes." Short, to the point, polite. But not a conversation ender. Damn, damn, damn. "More concrete skills are more useful." And now she sounded like her father conducting an interview. Damn it all.
"They are," the girl nodded with a small smile as Academy staff started moving through the group, pointing out students and random and sending them to the designated stream areas. "See you soon."
And with a little wave, she was gone.
"And you, Steam Charlie," a Technical Support Officer suddenly stamped a pad on her shoulder. It was silver with a big red C on it. These TSO's would have more authority than her if she got in.
And they were sneaky too. She thought she'd gotten good at noticing when people were approaching her - her bodyguards finding her creeping out, her father finding her reading and not studying - but she hadn't heard him at all. The crowd and that little hellion, probably. Winter glanced round the room to try and find the gathering point for Stream Charlie. There, a fellow group of red and silver stamped figures - and in the middle was the short blind girl, smirking at her.
Damn it. Damn it all.
"Hi," the little hellion smiled and waved. How did she know?! "I'm Helia."
Before Winter had a chance to respond - not that she could've, she hadn't thought of a fake name, she hadn't thought other candidates would talk to her during the Trials - Ironwood appeared as a giant hologram, centre-stage. "You will all be given ten minutes to get ready. After that, the Trials begin. Make your kingdom proud."
The gates opened, and the groups filed through, making their way down the labyrinthine halls and tunnels deep into the mountain.
Somehow, Helia never left Winter's side.
-.-.-
She should have expected a communal changing room.
How the others could so casually bare themselves, render themselves vulnerable - even joke about it - seemed beyond her. Was there no worry about revealing what the clothes were meant to hide, of removing what they were meant to enhance? Seemingly, not.
Cautiously she shucked her coat, keeping to a corner, eyes on the rest of the room. If anyone had recognised her and chose to approach her to ingratiate themselves, turn her in or assassinate her, she'd see them coming. The wall would be no hindrance to mobility with glyphs.
Helia was the closest, and therefore the one she'd have the least reaction time against. So she watched, trying her best to make it covert - Helia may have been blind but she certainly didn't act like it - as Helia dumped her duffle-bag and slipped out of her top to expose - wings. She had wings.
Non-mammalian Faunus were rare, but did exist. Faunus - a factory worker, hence the blindness? Or was it due to drugs or criminality? Hard to tell with Faunus. She was flitterpated and flighty like a bird. It made sense.
They flapped weakly and stretched out, but there was something off about them. They were… diseased. Small. Her wingspan was barely a shoulder wider than her arm and her feathers looked… patchy. More than that, her ribs were visible through her skin, clear enough to count. She looked almost - no, she did look starved.
A second later, Helia threw on a set of robes lined with daggers and armour plates, before latching an energised pack onto her back between her wings. They fitted through slight holes in her robes - clearly designed for that purpose. With that, Helia pulled up her pants, turning to Winter and curtseying. "Did milady enjoy the show?"
"I don't -" How dare she - what insolence - "I don't know what you're talking about." Flicking her gaze elsewhere. Mangy wretch. "And even if I were that way inclined, I wouldn't take advantage of something like you."
Helia's smirk flickered for a moment before returning in full force. "Who said you'd be taking advantage?~" she sang, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively - though the effect was lost significantly with the blindfold.
Winter decided to ignore her. Ignorant - set on upsetting her - damn, damn, damn. She fumbled on her combat jacket and waistcoat.
The drunk giant from earlier was almost clad too, sat on a bench in the middle of the room in what looked like a fortress worth of armour. Dark-chrome plates lined with yellow and gold, easily thick enough to give even an Ursa trouble. Winter had thought she was big before - the armour was thick enough to double her size, almost. Like a mobile bastion.
Next to her was an impossibly tall and thin figure of indeterminate gender, clad in similarly old fashioned armour. Leather and steel, culminating in a high collar that slipped over the lower half of her face. Heavy iron gauntlets and a preposterously large straight greatsword completed the outfit.
The giantess had her helmet in her lap as she took a large swig from a silver canister. "Nice sword," she said, nodding to the tall one. "Looks strong."
The tall one nodded. "Mm. Yours too."
Winter noted they must have been the first to get into the changing rooms. It looked like it took a long time to put on all that heavy gear.
There was a whistle of air as the greatsword was swung in a wide, low arc. Almost a full circle. The tall figure was crouched low, near parallel to the ground, then she stood. "Good for cutting larger opponents down to size."
The giant smiled and nodded, snorting slightly as she got to her feet. "Ambitious. Good."
"Oh my god, a flame sword?" some other high-pitched voice intruded on Winter's observations.
"You got a problem with it, bitch?"
"Damn right I've got a problem with it. We're in ice-landia. One slice wrong and you'll start an avalanche or something!"
"IF WE WERE OUTSIDE ON THE MOUNTAINTOP, YOU IGNORANT TWIT!"
"Hey, no need to shout!"
"Bitch."
"Cockbite."
"... what the hell kind of insult is that?"
"I'm new at this."
"Pff. You're gonna go real far kid."
What a pair. One fiery - literally - redhead filled with overconfidence, and some prissy girl with light-blue pigtails who obviously suffered from the painful sting of hubris. What a fool to be so prideful.
"So much delightful chemistry going on~" Helia giggled, rocking back and forth where she stood "Don't you agree?" she asked, flinging a knowing smile Winter's way.
Ignoring her would be so much easier if she wasn't so - distracting. "No. The rivalry is understandable but futile."
"It could be put to so much better use though," Helia frowned, the expression seemingly different with the blindfold on. "Such a waste of potential."
"Yes." Wait, she was agreeing with the wretch? Eh, a broken clock. "Your first correct statement."
"Two plus two doesn't always equal four."
"For certain definitions of two and four." Maths jokes. Nice to meet a well educated Faunus.
A sudden thump drew their attention back to the squabbling red and blue girl.
"OW!"
"I TOLD YOU TO LET GO!"
Red was hopping up and down on one foot while Blue clutched at her sniper rifle, the butt of the stock having a distinctly dirty mark on it. She must have slammed it into Red's foot.
"Will you two stop-"
She was cut off by an alarm howling and the whole room plunging into darkness.
"WARNING: INNER DEFENCES HAVE BEEN BREACHED. PLEASE EVACUATE THIS FACILITY IN A CALM AND CONTROLLED MANNER. WARNING: GRIMM HAVE BREACHED INNER DEFENCES…"