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Chapter 1: Before the Beginning
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"Theirs not to make reply
Theirs not to reason why
Theirs but to do and die
Into the Valley of Death
Rode the Six Hundred"
-Lord Alfred Tennyson
The Charge of the Light Brigade
16 Years before the Battle Of Beacon: Atlesian Arctic Wasteland
Alexander Wallace didn't know much about the outside world, hadn't seen much of the world outside of the white walled facility he had been raised in. His earliest memories were not about playing with siblings, or other children, like most kids his age, but rather of his fifth birthday, when the training began.
Now, five years later, he stood inside an Atlesian Black Ops Bullhead dropship, surrounded by nine other students in the program, and a supervising Atlesian Specialist. He knew little about his situation outside what one trainer had told him with a kind smile on his fifth birthday. The trainer had told him that he was one of a hundred children who had been selected to be trained to become one of the greatest Huntsman Remnant had ever seen. Alexander quite liked that idea.
He liked it a lot.
His group of ten students total followed the specialist through the barren wasteland that surrounded them, the only color around them coming from the abhorrent snow that was omnipresent in Atlas. The rolling hills rose and fell around them, the blanket of snow concealing any distinguishing features that might have helped them locate where they were, including, for the most part, the other children, all of whom wore white coats with matching pants, combat boots, goggles, hats, and woolen masks to cover their mouths and throats.
The class was there to watch the Specialist while he worked, having been assigned a simple extermination mission from the Director of the Jaeger Program, Dr. Geppetto Polendina, who, among other things, like the Director of various programs and initiatives for the Atlesian military, was also the Director of the Research and Development branch of the Atlesian government.
And so the mission began, as many missions do, with a single Beowolf howl.
The group, like ten other groups in other parts of the globe, watched with quiet awe and respect as the Specialist fought off the Grimm onslaught with an efficiency born of a career in the military. And Alexander, like the other 99 children in the program, decided that this was what he wanted to do.
More than anything else in the world.
Three Years Later
Dr. Polendina had been sending the children out on increasingly difficult missions for the past couple years, once they had all either built or assembled weapons. Most were simple Grimm extermination missions, but were occasionally more violent, closer to what one would expect of a black operations outfit. Most of those were harmless, infiltrating specific houses or compounds, not to steal anything, just to see if they could.
But every once in awhile, the extermination missions weren't to kill Grimm. Last month, Alexander had slunk into a building that served as the headquarters of a drug ring with fourteen other students to assassinate everyone inside with impunity. Inside, they found drug addicts, sprawled out on the ground, higher than the clouds. They found prostitutes, some alive, others not, some even begging for death, but all of them sported numerous injuries that at the very least looked extremely painful, if not downright life threatening. Finally, they also found drug dealers, cooks, various other gang members, and the kingpin of the entire operation.
Everyone inside died, either a silenced bullet through the head, or a blade through the throat.
A month or so later was when the first suicide happened. Alexander didn't see it, but he could have sworn he saw Director Polendina arguing furiously outside the other kid's room with two men, one who stood with a haughty air around him, a thick white mustache and slicked back hair, in a bright white suit that sharply contrasted Polendina's own more typical black suit.
The other stood with a commanding air, clearly an Atlesian officer, indicated by his white military uniform with a multitude of medals on the left breast. He had deep red hair, a rarity in Atlas, and a matching mustache that did little to hide the mouth that curved upwards in a conspiratorial smile which only grew when he looked down the hall and saw Alexander Wallace, barely thirteen years old, his bright blue eyes curious and darting, his dark brown hair cut short so it was barely more than fuzz on his scalp.
Dr. Polendina, who had consistently made time at least once a week to meet with each child in his program, who was at least liked, if not outright loved, by every child in the program, the one who had basically taught all of them social skills, who had shown up everyday for the past eight years to the facility, didn't show up the next day, nor did he show up the day after that. In fact, none of the children saw Dr. Polendina ever again, something that concerned Alexander greatly, as well as the rest of the children, as instead of Dr. Polendina, the officer Alexander had seen started showing up more and more, always with a sick smile on his face.
And somehow, Alexander knew, deep in his soul, that this would be the turning point for the Jaeger Program. And he was right. What would come next for the Jaeger Program would test the limits of their body and their mind.
One Year Later
Alexander stood, once more surrounded by other children from the Jaeger Program, on the deck of an Atlesian Bullhead dropship. His bright blue eyes glowed slightly in the darkness, his entire body aching with pain with every bump and jolt the dropship experienced. In the past year, the remaining ninety nine children in the Program had gone through what could only affectionately called hell.
None of them had taken missions in the past year, and yet, even so, Alexander had been in the hospital no fewer than twelve times in the past year. It would have been more, but Alexander had stopped going when he got shot, or broke a bone, or got cut, reasoning that he could fix it himself, and that way wouldn't miss any training hours that he would then have to train through the night to make up after he had done his mandatory twelve hours broken up into three four hour sessions, one before breakfast, one between breakfast and lunch, and one between lunch and dinner.
Every day, one child would be randomly chosen after dinner to go through what was called interrogation training, though people who weren't utter morons would call it torture. Everything short of permanent injury and death was fair game to the sick bastards that tortured the children. Beatings, electric shocks, stabbings, waterboarding, all were common in that damned room that had once had bleached white walls and floor, but were now an amalgamation of brown and red from both fresh and dried blood.
They had all long since learned to mask everything they felt, everything from emotions to pain, all ignored and replaced with nothing but the orders they were given.
But tonight, for the first time in a year, they were able to go on an extermination mission. Their clothes were completely black, black turtleneck sweaters pulled up to cover their mouths, black cargo pants, black gloves, tinted goggles, black combat boots, and the ten children were moving to put on helmets when strange masks that looked like Grimm, and white armbands with a red wolf head with red claw marks behind it were passed out to them by the red haired officer.
Questions raced through Alexander's mind, but he ignored them while he took off his goggles to put on the mask, before sliding the armband on his left bicep. He followed behind the other children off the dropship, forming up in a ring, pistols and rifles pointed outward while the dropship took off. When the dropship had left their immediate area, a crackle came from the earpiece Alexander wore in his right ear.
"Longship, this is Raider Actual, we are on the ground. What are marching orders, over?" Said a boy off to Alexander's left who was the leader of their little group that had been given the callsign Raider.
"Raider Actual, this is Commander Vasilyevich. To the north there is a house belonging to some very bad people, some people that the Atlesian government would very much like dead. Everyone inside, including children, are to be assumed to be hostile and shot on sight. Leave one armband and mask behind in the house before you depart. From now on, on your missions, your default setting should be weapons free. Over" Alexander could feel conflicting emotions start to rise within him, and quickly squashed them down.
'Orders are orders. We can't mess up this mission.' Alexander thought, following his leader through the forest, a high impact dust pistol in one hand, and a combat knife in the other, his personalized pistols holstered on his thighs.
They split up into two groups when they reached a brick wall surrounding the estate, Alexander assigned to lead a five man team around to the back of the house, and to breach and eliminate with prejudice from there.
On the other side of the estate, Alexander called it in when they were opposite the other group. "Raider Actual, this is Raider Two, we have a charge set on the wall, standing by for breach order." He waited patiently, back pressed against the wall a couple feet from the charge.
"Raider Two, breach on one. Three, two, one." Simultaneously, on opposite sides of the estate, two muffled explosions crumbled sections of the wall around the estate, and two groups of five fourteen year olds each streamed in through the gaps, approaching the estate slowly over the expansive grounds.
Alexander walked slowly across the well manicured lawn, eyes darting back and forth across the yard, looking for any threats while his team spread out around him, small red dots from the laser sights on their guns sweeping across the lawn. Alexander raised his hand and his entire team froze before slowly dropping to their stomachs when a large burly security guard stepped out of a back door, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
He slowly rose to a knee, his silenced pistol rising to point just above the cherry glow from the cigarette, and felt the pistol jump in his hands, the loudest sounds in the night being the slide of his pistol, and the thump from the bodyguard hitting the ground.
Alexander quickly moved up, his team following him. He quickly grabbed the bodyguard and pulled him into a bush next to the door he walked out of. Slowly, he opened the door and stepped inside, his eyes and firearm sweeping across the room.
A moment later, his team joined him just as a woman, clearly a bodyguard, given her body armor and rifle, walked into the room from the other side. Five weapons swept up and fired before the woman even had a chance to move her rifle, and she fell to the ground a moment later, her head clearly splattered across the wall behind her.
Alexander moved forward, pulling the woman into a corner where she couldn't be seen from the hallway and carefully creeped into the hallway before conveying to his team, through hand signs, to split up. Two went off to the right, and two went off to the left, leaving Alexander to walk up the stairs alone.
He crept up the stairs silently even for his enhanced sense of hearing, a result of his semblance, which he had unlocked several months prior, and was causing his eyes to glow softly behind the Grimm mask, as his semblance was just about always active, slowing down his perception of time minutely, enhancing his senses to inhuman levels, and giving him ungodly fast reflexes.
He ghosted down the hallway silently, walking right up behind a patrolling guard, and killing him with a knife to the back of the neck, severing his brain from his spinal column, and severing the man's vocal cords as a precaution. Catching the body and placing him quietly against the wall, he continued to prowl the second floor, peeking into empty room after empty room and silencing every guard that crossed his path as he did so.
Eventually, Alexander moved up to the third floor, killing a couple of guards that were unlucky enough to catch his eye in the process of finding his way around.
He looked through several rooms, mostly empty but for some slumbering servants, before he finally ran into Raider Actual outside the last room.
"Foxtrot."
"Uniform."
With their greetings out of the way, they each took hold of door in front of them, slowly opening one side of the double door.
Inside slept a woman with light blond hair and two girls who must have been her daughters. Strangely, no father in the room.
Alexander and Raider Actual looked at each other for a long moment before they both stood up, Alexander removing his mask and armband slowly, dropping them on the ground next to the bed before raising his gun with Raider Actual, pointing them at the woman in the bed. A moment of hesitation was met with a commanding voice on the other end of their earpieces.
"Raider Actual, Raider Two, do it, or you will be reclaimed and summarily executed." Said Commander Vasilyevich, his voice harsh with anger. Alexander felt a pit grow in his stomach when he looked over at Raider Actual, whose hand was shaking slightly.
Raider Actual took a deep breath, his hand steadying, and pulled the trigger several times. Following his lead, Alexander pulled his own trigger several times as well, before they each stepped back, watching the red blood stain the white sheets and blanket for a couple moments before they walked out, heads bowed while Raider Actual put his hand on his earpiece.
"Raiders, report in." He said, waiting for the team to count down from ten, all calling out that they had cleared the house. When it got to Alexander's turn, his hand slowly rose up to his earpiece with a slight shake.
"Raider Two, clear, over." He said, before taking a deep shuddering breath.
"Raider Actual to Longship, all hostiles in the area have been neutralized, we'll rendezvous out front of the house for pickup, over."
One Year Later
It was that first mission that the different teams went on that really kicked off the children starting to really snap. One week after that mission, Alexander watched as Raider Actual tried to run, to flee the facility, only to have his head blown off by a sniper before he got five hundred yards from the door.
The other team leaders all tried similar things, all trying to run, all just wanting to escape the mania the Jaeger Program had become. People stopped trying to run when they realized that they wouldn't get far. The people running the program must have realized that they had stepped over a line, having the children kill innocent kids in their sleep. But that didn't stop it.
Alexander and other children were promoted to the position of team leader for their respective teams, and they were out on missions the week after Raider Actual died. This time, they were dressed in full Atlesian military uniforms and airdropped outside of houses deep in the slums, and instructed to kill everyone inside. And so they did, although the houses were not filled with the typical societal rejects, junkies, drug dealers, and the like, but rather with Faunus.
And Raider team was not the only team to kill Faunus. Alexander asked around and found that every team in the Jaeger Program was sent to kill Faunus. That week, at least one child from each team managed to sneak their gun out of the armory, and put a bullet through their own head.
But the Jaeger Program just kept moving forward, Commander Vasilyevich's smile growing with each passing day. Once again, the following week, Alexander, having lost his team leader, as well as two of his teammates, was sent out to a house deep in the forests outside Vale, where he and his team discovered a Faunus family, and were ordered to blow up the house. More people tried to run after that. It didn't work any better for them than anyone previous.
Alexander, now only down to himself, and four other team members, was put in charge of another team that was also only down to five members, as well as his own. And since then, they hadn't been on any missions. And because they hadn't been on missions, their training was increased, and every child found themselves in the torture chamber at least once a week.
If Alexander had anything less than an iron will, he would have killed himself too. Honestly, not one person still there of the fifty or so left still believed that hell, or whatever awaited them, was worse than being there. But Alexander stayed, he swallowed his pain and emotions, eventually coming to mask it with sarcasm and mockery until he was alone, where he would let it all out, crying in the shower and nursing injuries carefully until he finally managed to escape into sleep.
He couldn't afford to show weakness. He couldn't let them have anything they could use against him.
So he stayed, because he knew, deep in his soul, that eventually, this would all end, and then, when that day came, he would be able to finally become a Huntsman. And so he suffered, quietly, out of sight of the instructors with their sadistic grins, and the torturers, with their lying smiles and cruel laughter, and he watched as the numbers of his teammates dwindled down to one, and he watched as student after student snuck their guns out of the armory to either end their own lives, or put a bullet through some of the instructors before ending their own life as well.
Anger, sadness, and despair slowly welled up within him until one day, during lunch, he gathered the remaining students, about ten counting himself, and told them his plan.
"Look, guys, this place is going to be the end of us, one way or another, unless we do something about it. Tomorrow, Commander Vasilyevich will be coming. Now, I say we have two options, either lay down and accept what they're doing to us, or we can fight back. If we can kill Commander Vasilyevich, I reckon we can get to a radio, or a comms station, and contact someone in the outside world. But we'll have to fight through the instructors and Vasilyevich's guard to have a shot at this. Are you all in?" He said, looking around to see steely-eyed determination staring back at him from every face, and, for the first time since Dr. Polendina left, Alexander smiled.
The next day, the group of ten was walking to meet Commander Vasilyevich in his office, surrounded by both the instructors and the Commander's personal guard. The double doors opened, creaking slightly, and the group walked in, the instructors and guards all with their hands close to their pistols.
Alexander looked around him at the other students when Commander Vasilyevich walked in behind them, nodding imperceptibly. They had gone over the plan multiple times. When the Commander sat down the students leapt into action.
Alexander dove to his right, taking out the legs of one of the Commander's guards before grabbing the pistol from the guard's holster while they stood up. The guard charged at Alexander, whose eyes were blazing a remarkable blue.
The guard brought his fist back, and swung. Alexander stepped to the side, shoving the barrel of the gun into the guard and pulling the trigger, putting a shot into the guard's shoulder, and causing him to fall to the ground, before Alexander put a bullet in the back of his head. Alexander ran towards the other guard, who had managed to throw off his own attacker and kill him.
Alexander jumped up, planting a foot in the guard's face, throwing him to the ground before putting a bullet through his skull. He looked up to see the Commander standing behind his desk, an assault rifle held in his hand, his finger about to press down on the trigger. Time slowed down for Alexander as the Commander pulled the trigger, sweeping the weapon from side to side.
Alexander dropped to the ground, bullets whizzing above his head to kill student and instructor alike until nothing in the room was moving. Alexander stood up slowly, raising his pistol and pointing it at the Commander, whose face was a rictus of anger as he lowered the assault rifle, it's magazine empty.
"Well done, brat, are you going to kill me in revenge for killing your friends? How adorable." The Commander spat at Alexander.
Alexander took a long, slow, deep breath, before he answered. "No. No, I'm killing you in revenge for all the lives you ordered dead at our hands. I'm killing because you perverted the vision of a truly good man who wanted to help the world by making one hundred of the best huntsman and huntresses the world has ever seen." The Commander's lip curled even more in anger, before his face contorted into one of shock when the pistol Alexander held barked and jerked in Alexander's hand, a hole opening up in the Commander's forehead.
Alexander dropped the pistol, walking over to the comm station in the corner of the office and opening up a channel that would broadcast to the entire Atlesian military. Heads all over Atlas turned to the nearest speaker when Alexander's message rang out, including the head of one James Ironwood, recently instated General of the Atlesian military and headmaster of the Atlas school, as well as the other man in his office, one Dr. Polendina.
"Atlas military, this is Raider Actual, Alexander Wallace, calling for any available help to these coordinates. The Jaeger Program has failed. I am the only survivor. Please...someone, I need to get the hell out of here. Over." As the broadcast ended, Dr. Polendina's face, normally fairly jovial, fell to one of sadness and regret.
"Gepetto, what the hell was that about?" Ironwood asked, leaning forward on his desk.
"That, James, is what I came to talk to you about, but I think it should be something I tell you while we are on the Yggdrasil." Ironwood followed Dr. Polendina out of his office and to the Yggdrasil, all the way feeling his patience wane. Finally, when they got to Ironwood's ship, and it took off, Ironwood dragged Polendina off to a private room to talk.
"Alright, Gepetto, you're going to tell me what that was about, right now." Ironwood said, in a commanding tone that made clear how he earned his position.
"Well, about 15 years back, I got the clearance needed to start a program I had been proposing to your predecessor for quite some time. It was a program designed to create the best Huntsman and Huntresses the world has ever seen, and I had plans laid out for how exactly I would go about doing it. So, when the General gave me the go ahead, I started my work. I gathered a list of one hundred newborns, all children of accomplished Huntsman, Huntresses, and decorated military officers, and I talked to the parents, told them what I was planning to do, and asked if they would volunteer their baby for what would be called the Jaeger Program. Not one person refused. They all trusted me, James, implicitly. They all knew that what I was planning was intended to do good. And for 11 years, it did spectacularly. All the children were doing well, developing well emotionally, physically, and socially." Polendina paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and prepare himself for what he would say next.
"And then, I decided I would start to send them on missions, mostly just little stuff, and never were they ever sent alone, always in a group of ten. And then, when they were around 13, I was given a mission to assign to a squad of however many I chose to send. It wasn't a bad idea, I knew that I would have to send them on more dangerous missions that would be harder to deal with emotionally than just killing a Grimm. So I didn't look over the mission too hard, just saw infiltrate and exterminate, the two big things these kids had been training to do. I picked fifteen kids to send, five more than I normally assigned, just in case the mission went pear shaped." Polendina gulped hard, his lip starting to quiver in sadness.
"They got there, and it was to kill a drug kingpin and anyone else in the warehouse. They saw some terrible stuff in there, James, they killed for the first time there. Most of them were dealing with it well, but one girl, she saw the worst of it, the prostitutes that had been raped and mutilated, and she kept picturing herself in those poor girl's places, and that just ruined her. About a month after the mission, she hung herself from a pipe in her room, unable to take it anymore. The General heard about it, and, under the nudging of a certain Schnee, replaced me with one of the worst commanders this army has ever or will ever seen. A real monster, famous for sacrificing his own men unnecessarily to ensure a victory. He was only still in the army because that Schnee bastard was able to bribe people and pull strings for him. I got kicked from Director of the Jaeger Program, so, I moved on, hoping against hope that those kids would be able to hold out until I could figure out a way to get rid of Commander Vasilyevich. That's what I came to talk to you about today. The Jaeger Program has made no reports to the Atlas military in years, and I wanted to see if you would send men to find out what was going on. I guess I was too late." Dr. Polendina gave a sad smile, and a long sigh.
"At least one of those kids made it out, so to speak." He said, his sad smile growing slightly. Ironwood nodded slowly the gears in his head turning.
"Do you think he would join the military? I'm sure if he is half as good as you intended them to be, he will be a great asset." Ironwood said, staring thoughtfully at a wall, his arms crossed.
"I don't know, but the kid would only be 15, so he wouldn't join for another couple years, if ever. I would like to see if you can get one of the Schnee children to join the military, if no other reason than to simply spite that man. The oldest should be eligible to join the Atlas academy in two years or so." Polendina said, his smile growing larger as he spoke. Ironwood said nothing, instead opting to simply nod, smiling.
...
Alexander watched, arms crossed, and face in a scowl, as a dropship landed outside the facility he was still begrudgingly in. When the door to the dropship opened, however, his scowl turned into a wide smile as he saw Dr. Polendina and the newly instated General Ironwood walking toward him through the thin blanket of snow, surrounded by a multitude of Atlesian soldiers. He held open the door when they came in, General Ironwood thanking him quietly, and Dr. Polendina smiling at him while the door swung shut behind them. He led them through the halls to his room, where he stepped into the bathroom to change into his white combat uniform, the only clothes he still owned that he could find that weren't covered in blood, or ripped apart by bullets or knives.
He came out in a white turtleneck, white cargo pants, white combat boots, and holding a white jacket, white hat, and goggles, should he need them. Meanwhile, the Atlesian soldiers were combing through the facility, taking pictures of everything they saw.
"Alexander, I'm sure you have many questions for us, and we have many questions for you, but I must insist that you hold any questions until we are on my ship, the Yggdrasil." Said General Ironwood, seemingly unaffected by the walk through the facility but for a slight tightening of his lips. Alexander's mouth opened for a moment to ask something, but when he looked over at Dr. Polendina, who shook his head, Alexander closed his mouth and simply nodded before grabbing a backpack that held what little possessions he had that he couldn't wear.
...
It was the first time that Alexander had ever been on a cruiser, having only ever used Bullheads to get to and from the missions he was assigned. Dr. Polendina smiled slightly as Alexander's eyes flew around the rooms and hallways they walked through, taking in everything he could.
Finally, after a much lengthier walk than normal, the three found themselves in a large office that was sparsely decorated at the best. Two bookshelves in the corners next to the door that were barely half full each, a small circular table with two chairs against the right wall, a couch with a table in front of it, and a large wooden desk near the back wall, with a leather chair behind it, and two wooden chairs in front of it for visitors.
Alexander and Dr. Polendina sat down in the wooden chairs while General Ironwood sat in the leather chair, rubbing his temples in an attempt to abate his growing headache. Alexander placed his bag on the ground next to him and shifted around on the chair to find some amount of comfort on the unyielding wood.
After a minute or so, Ironwood looked up, clasping his hands together on the desk, drawing Alexander's attention, for the first time, to the fact that Ironwood wore only one white leather glove on his right hand. 'Why would he only wear one glove? What could he be hiding?' Alexander thought, watching while Ironwood's left hand tensed unconsciously, tugging slightly on the glove, while the right hand remained immobile.
Alexander's eyes travelled up the General's arm, his remarkable eyesight picking up slight twitches from the General's left arm that were never mirrored on his right side, noting the small metal plate on Ironwood's forehead. Alexander's nose twitched, barely, and he tilted his head slightly, picking up a very subtle scent of hydraulic fluid and a slight whir of gears when the General unclasped his hands to flex them slightly before clasping them again.
"General, why are you hiding the fact that you have a cybernetic arm? Cybernetics are not common in the Atlesian military, from what I understand, but they are not unheard of." Alexander asked, earning a bark of laughter from Dr. Polendina before he composed himself again. Ironwood's eyes flashed with shock before returning to their typical impassive blue.
"As much as I'm sure you wish to talk about that, Specialist, that is not what we are here to discuss." Ironwood said, smirking internally when Alexander's and Dr. Polendina's eyes widened at his use of the rank. "Your rank, you may have noticed, is one most can only dream for a hope to earn. I saw, on the way to the facility, the reports that were taken from the databases remotely, and will, after this meeting, read the reports that could only be ripped from direct access to a computer in the base. And, I must say, the reports, however tragic and gruesome they may be, paint a very impressive picture."
"Now I realize that you would very much like to ignore what happened in that facility, and what you did under orders and threat of punishment and death, but, ignoring the results of the actions, the missions you ran were done with amazing efficiency, and in your spars with your instructors and fellow students, you excelled greatly, and have definitely earned the rank." Ironwood slowly stood up, clasping his hands behind his back, and started pacing around behind his desk before walking around it and stopping in front of Alexander.
"In short, regardless of where you turn out, whether you decide to continue in the Atlesian military, or you enroll Atlas Academy, or if you decide to leave Atlas and never come back, you will be a great ally for whoever you fight beside, and a great enemy for those you oppose. So, Alexander, standing before you today, I would like to do two things. One, I would like to offer you a position as a probationary Specialist when you turn seventeen, and a standing invitation to join us at Atlas Academy, should you choose it." Ironwood pulled something out of his pocket, a rectangle of metal and glass, and handed it to Alexander.
"That Scroll comes preprogrammed with Dr. Polendina's number, an address for a house in Atlas where you can stay for as long as you like, a bank account that can easily pay for anything you might need to live on you own, and my own personal Scroll number. Feel free to call the two of us whenever you like, for anything you would like. The Atlesian military owes you a massive debt, and I hope that this is a step in the right direction to begin paying it off." Ironwood gave a small, sad smile that Alexander unknowingly copied as he held the Scroll in his hands.
"So that's it? I get a big huge important rank, a house, money, direct lines to the two of you, and nothing is asked in return? Also, if I don't return to the military, what happens to my rank?" Alexander asked, his eyes getting a small bit frantic. Dr. Polendina laid a hand on Alexander's shoulder, and he looked over at the smiling, kind, doctor.
"That's it. Like the General said, the Atlesian military made mistakes, people made terrible calls, and it tortured one hundred children to the point where ninety nine are now dead. This is our way of starting to amend, starting to say that we're sorry." As the doctor spoke, Alexander visibly started to relax.
"As for your rank, well, as of now you are, in the eyes of the military, a retired veteran, and your rank cannot be stripped of you so long as you don't rejoin the military and do something to get yourself demoted. Provided that doesn't happen, you will forever hold a rank that is second only in importance and command to the General himself. You are the youngest person to ever hold an officer's rank, not to mention the fact that it is just about the most important rank you could hold while General Ironwood still breathes." Dr. Polendina said, making Alexander smile slightly for a moment before it dropped off his face suddenly, worrying Ironwood and Polendina.
"I can't join the Atlesian military. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I have to become a Huntsman. I will become a huntsman." Alexander said, with determination that took the two men off guard. He looked at General Ironwood, who was now nodding slowly, mulling something over in his head.
"I have a friend, a fellow headmaster, who just might be able to help you. He's the headmaster of Beacon Academy, which, I will begrudgingly admit, will be better for you if you are so hell bent on becoming the very best Huntsman that you can. I'll give him a call, and he'll come see you in the next two years about attending his Academy." Ironwood said, making Alexander smile, which only widened when he realized that he really could one day fulfill his dream.
...
One Year Later
Ozpin, and a younger Glynda Goodwitch standing at his side, watched from a rooftop as a group of teenagers pushed around a young teenage boy with bright blue eyes and shaggy brown hair, ragged and torn clothing, and couldn't have been older than 16. The children pushed the boy around, throwing him ruthlessly around an alleyway, into walls and trash cans.
"Why doesn't he fight back?" Glynda asked, her voice laced with concern for the child below them. Ozpin looked over at Glynda briefly before looking back down to the child, who was standing back up with a determined look on his face after being thrown into a trashcan.
"He doesn't want to fight them. He doesn't want to become the monster he thinks he was trained to be. He is very capable, but when he fights, restraint is still something of a foreign concept to him, and from what I understand, when he fought back once, his attackers were left in critical condition." Ozpin said, watching as the group of teenagers grew bored and walked away. He and Glynda waited for another minute or so until the last of the group had left the alleyway and the boy had punched the wall in frustration, leaving a crater in the brickwork.
Ozpin and Glynda dropped down into the alleyway, walking over to the boy who was eyeing them warily. "What? Have the adults decided to beat up on the glowing-eyed freak, too? Surprised it took this long for you all to join in. You know, with how much General Ironwood loves you people, I'd thought you'd be better than this." He said, straightening up with a wince, a hand coming up to hold his ribs.
Glynda gasped softly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in indignation. Ozpin just shook his head. "We are not here to fight you, child. No, we are here because I wanted to talk to you. Have you ever heard of Beacon?"
"Might have heard of it once or twice, why? What's it got to do with me?" Said the boy, while he twisted and stretched, making sure his aura had healed everything. Glynda was staring at the boy with barely veiled intrigue, her eyes running along the arms that, moments before, had been littered with bruises and cuts.
"I, as the headmaster, am constantly on the lookout for the best and brightest of each generation, to recruit them and bring them to Beacon so that they may train to become huntsman and huntresses to protect our countries against the forces of the Grimm. You were highly recommended, and I would like you, this Fall, to join us at Beacon." Ozpin watched as the boy's eyes slowly thinned in suspicion, and just continued to smile softly the whole time.
"Huh, you must be Ironwood's friend he told me about. Took you long enough to get out here. Alright, I'll go to your school. You guys are the best academy in Remnant, right?" Alexander asked, to which Ozpin simply smiled and nodded, handing him a card with a number and a date on it.
"Get to the City of Vale by the date on that card, and call that number, and you will be taken to the ship every other Beacon student takes to get to the school. I hope we will see you in the fall." Ozpin said, turning and walking away from the smiling boy, Glynda following close behind him.
"So, that was him? He's the only survivor?" She asked, confusion and intrigue written across her face. Ozpin nodded, his smile dropping.
"Yes, out of a group of one hundred, Alexander Wallace is the only one to survive Atlas's Jaeger program. When it was thought up and created, it began as an attempt to train the perfect huntsman and huntresses, but somewhere along the way, it got corrupted and a selfish, cruel man was put in charge with the backing and influence from an even crueler man. From there, it was really only a matter of time before the children they were training were going on black op missions for the military, infiltrating and assassinating people who disagreed with their particular views, mostly faunus and faunus sympathizers. Some of the initiates were killed by bodyguards or security systems when they tried to escape their 'training facility', but the vast majority couldn't come to terms with what they'd done, and snapped, turning their guns on themselves. That he made it out of that program at all is remarkable on its own." Ozpin kept walking, leaving Glynda behind in the alleyway, shock and disgust obvious on her face when she looked back down the alleyway to the boy still staring at the business card with a small smile on his face.
...
Eight Years before the Battle of Beacon
Alexander stood on an airship like he had so many times before. This time, however, much to his joy, he was on the airship without any nefarious or disagreeable purpose behind it.
He was just there to learn how to be a huntsman. He stood a couple inches shy of six feet tall, in a white waistcoat and matching pants tucked into black combat boots, in the typical dress fashion of Atlesian military, though he had gotten an orange flower surrounded by sunbursts stitched onto the back of his coat, as he had made a call to General Ironwood to get the outfit specially made. His brown hair, recently cut, was slicked back and hung just below his ears. On the side of each thigh was a holster, and each held one of an identical pair of compact pistols that Dr. Polendina had personally made, after Alexander's original weapons were destroyed years ago on a mission for Commander Vasilyevich.
He felt a slight jerk when the airship landing, a smile spreading across his face as he walked off the airship, looking around in awe at Beacon. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking towards the school, whistling slightly as he did so.
A hand on his shoulder as he walked surprised him, and, before he realized what was happening, he had grabbed the hand, spinning around it's owner, wrenching their thumb up between their shoulder blades while he started to pull one of his pistols out of its holster. Alexander quickly let go and stepped back when he realized what was going on, before his pistol cleared its holster. The other person straightened up, turning around to face Alexander.
In front of him stood a girl, roughly his age, and a couple inches shorter than he was. She had light brown skin, and light brown eyes with a small beauty mark below her left eye. Brown hair fell to just past her jawline, and bangs covered her forehead. She wore a white ruffled shirt with a brown corset and a strap that ran across her chest from her right shoulder to her left hip, and carried a couple of pouches, worn brown pants covered her legs and were tucked into brown boots that went up to just below her knee. When Alexander had let her go, her hand had dropped to her lower back, likely grabbing her weapon.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it. You're not hurt or anything, right?" He said, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. She just stared at him for a long moment while she spun her arm around before nodding and huffing in annoyance.
"Jeez, try to get someone's attention and they freak out and try to kill you." She crossed her arms over her chest. Despite the tone she was using, and the aura she was trying to exude to make her seem intimidating, her lack of any real anger was clear in her eyes.
"Why were you trying to get my attention?" Alexander said, tilting his head in confusion. He honestly didn't know why someone would try to talk to him. After the Jaeger program was disbanded, he had been systematically shunned by everyone he met in Atlas, and hadn't had a real human conversation in months before Ozpin talked to him.
"Well, I've never been to Atlas personally, but from what I understand, the only people who wear clothes like that are officers of the Atlesian military. And well, I figured that anyone who had those clothes at the age of seventeen must have quite the story, and I like a good story." She said, smiling that held nothing but joy and masked no underlying intentions. An infectious smile that Alexander couldn't help but copy after a moment.
"By the way, name's Amber. Nice to meet you." She said, extending a hand towards Alexander. He smiled wider, reaching a hand out and shaking hers.
"I'm Alexander. It's nice to meet you too." They let go, hands dropping back to their sides, other students streaming past the duo.
"So, Alexander, how did you happen upon officer's clothes from the Atlesian military?" She asked, and the smile instantly dropped off of Alexander's face, his eyes hardening, and dropping to look at his shoes.
"I used to be the equivalent of an officer, even though, legally speaking, I was never a member of the military." He said, before raising his head to fix Amber with a stare that froze her in place, not out of fear for herself, but fear for the young man in front of her, whose eyes had aged centuries. "It's not something I'm particularly fond of talking about."
Amber just nodded her head, looking around at nothing in particular. "So, this campus is really incredible, isn't it? The architecture, and landscaping, and whatnot." She asked, watching a grateful smile tug at Alexander's lips as they enthusiastically dove into the change of subject on their way to the Welcoming Speech.
...
The next day, Alexander stood, arms crossed, and face devoid of emotion on top of a metal square with the Beacon insignia on it. Around him stood numerous other students in varying states of armament, though Alexander was the only one in the line that wore no form of armor. Ozpin gave a small speech about the dangers of the Emerald Forest and their objective to reach the temple to retrieve an artifact, a speech which Alexander largely ignored, picking up on the important bits of information that Ozpin was saying, until one specific line caused him to whip his head over to Ozpin and stare at him and shock.
"The first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for your entirety at this academy." A small smile tugged at the corner of Ozpin's lips.
"Be sure to choose wisely, and good luck." Ozpin watched with a glimmer of amusement as student after student was launched off into the air with varying degrees of coordination. Amber, several people to Alexander's left, braced herself before launching off into the air, her left forearm now covered by a silver bracer, and her brown boots had been traded out for gold boots that protected everything up to her knee.
Ozpin looked over at Alexander just before he launched off, his posture unchanged, and his eyes locked on Ozpin. Just before he launched, Ozpin saw his right foot shift back slightly, and bend at the knees to absorb some of the shock from the launch pad. Alexander flew through the air for a couple seconds before he flung his arms out to the side and spreading his legs in an attempt to slow himself down even slightly.
He flipped himself around in midair just before he reached the top of the trees, falling through leaves and branches feet first. On his way down, he threw his arms out, grabbing a thick branch, and transferred his momentum so he swung back up above the treeline, covering a lot of lateral ground in the process.
Falling back through the leaves, he fell a bit farther before grabbing another branch, swinging around it multiple times to disperse his momentum before dropping to the forest floor below him, landing in a crouch. He straightened up and started running forward, eyes blazing, on the lookout for anything that might be a temple or another student.
He ran for a minute or two before hearing something running through the underbrush off to his left. Jumping off to his right, he turned around to see several Boarbatusks running at him, though they looked less concerned with attacking him and more concerned with fleeing from whatever was behind them. Drawing his pistols, Alexander dropped each Grimm with a single shot to their eyes as they ran past in what, to him, seemed like slow motion.
He ran past the bodies of the Grimm, on the hunt for what caused the Grimm to run in fear, only to be thrown back into a tree by a massive gust of wind blasting through the forest. He fell to the ground and stood up, continuing in the same direction, ducking and twisting out of the way of branches and sticks that were crashing through the forest.
After fighting through blustering wind, he found himself on the edge of a clearing ringed with fire, bringing an arm up to shield his face from the heat. In the middle of the clearing stood Amber, her staff swinging around her body furiously, gouts of flame and blasts of wind alternating from the ends of her staff as she exterminated the pack of Beowolves that had been unfortunate enough to have been caught inside the fire with her.
Alexander pulled out one of his pistols with his right hand, quickly reloading it and swiftly putting a bullet through the head of every Beowolf he could hit, emptying the mag, and successfully taking down twelve of the Grimm. Amber spun her staff one last time, a massive blast of wind throwing the last Beowolf clean across the clearing to be impaled on a thick branch before it burned from the feet up.
Alexander stood, gun in hand while Amber went about putting out the fire that was threatening to spread with blasts of wind. When she was done, Alexander walked out, holstering his gun as he did so. She turned and locked eyes with him before walking over to him, her staff shortening before she put it back on her lower back.
"So, I guess this makes us partners." She said happily, smiling as she walked over. Alexander's face remained emotionless, though he was smiling internally, and he simply nodded before he turned to walk off into the forest, Amber following close behind.
"I suppose it does."
...
The temple in the forest stood crumbling, but largely untouched by the visitors and inhabitants of the forest, Grimm, human, and faunus alike. Alexander and Amber walked calmly out of the forest into what could only be described as abject chaos. Students were running back and forth, clutching what looked to be figurines of Grimm of all types.
Alexander and Amber stood in quiet shock for a long moment, long enough for another duo, both male, walk up beside them. One, a tall, thin, guy, standing at least a foot above Alexander, with buzzed black hair, pale green eyes, and dark skin that was largely unmarred except for a thick scar that stretched from just under his chin, and disappeared under the collar of his orange shirt with a top button that had been left unbuttoned. Slung across his back was a zanbato that perfectly matched his physique, in that the handle protruded over his right shoulder, and the tip of the unsheathed zanbato stuck out around his ankles that were covered, like the rest of his lower body, by dark blue pants that were creased down the front of each leg.
"I'm Quentin. Pleasure to meet you." He said, in a deep, rasping voice that he almost seemed to struggle with, as he extended his hand to Alexander, who took it and copied the greeting. The guy to Quentin's left looked slightly deranged, a manic glint to his gold eyes, and his wide smile just slightly crooked. Shiny blond hair that almost looked like gold spiked wildly and trailed down to his shoulder blades, and he held a sniper rifle that looked capable of felling a Goliath Grimm, as it was easily his height, and the barrel looked to be about as big around as one of Alexander's forearms.
"Uranus. I know, great to meet me." He said, in a calm and measured tenor that belied his outward appearance. His blue shirt with white dots that almost looked like stars was rumpled, untucked, and had four buttons unbuttoned. His black denim pants, nothing like Quentin's creased pants, were clearly well worn, and though they were slightly sagging, he wore several belts, all of which had pouch upon pouch of ammo strapped to them. He spun his rifle, and, moments later, held a sickle with a handle that reached just below his shoulder, and a blade that curved the rest of the way up and back down so the tip of the blade ended next to his temple to form what almost looked like a crescent moon.
"So, are we going to do this thing, or not? They're running out of statues over there." Uranus said, and Amber wordlessly walked off into the crowd, reappearing barely a minute later, holding two Goliath figurines, throwing one to Quentin, who caught it deftly before it even got within three feet of him.
"Sorry, these were the only two left." She said, before grabbing Alexander by the arm and walking off into the forest once more in search of the cliff they had to scale. Quentin and Uranus looked at each other, shrugging, before following closely behind.
They worked their way through several miles of dense forest and foliage before breaking into a clearing, and immediately regretting it. In the clearing stood a Death Stalker, surrounded by a Beowolf pack. Weapons were immediately drawn, Uranus spinning his sickle again so it transformed back into a sniper rifle and, with a quick pull of the trigger, and a massive crack that sounded like thunder, the fight began as a Beowolf's head simply ceased to exist.
Running forward, Alexander drew his pistols, firing shots into the crowd of Beowolves, watching with a satisfied smirk as several of them fell to the ground, missing parts of their heads. With little time to spare, Alexander's eyes flashed blue, glowing in the light of the setting sun, as he dropped to his knees and leaned backwards, sliding under a wild swipe from the Death Stalker, before getting his feet back under himself and flipping up and over the follow up from the other claw.
He ran forward again, spinning his pistols into escrima sticks and attaching them together. Another massive claw swung at Alexander and he, using his bo staff, vaulted himself up and over with a burst of lightning dust. He detached his escrima sticks and spun them so he could reload his pistols as he landed on the Death Stalker's shell in a slight crouch. He pointed the muzzles of his pistols down towards the armor of the Death Stalker's shell and unloaded the twelve shot magazines into the same spot on the armor, and succeeded in breaking through the armor, hitting the vulnerable flesh below with a shot, making the Death Stalker buck wildly into the air, throwing Alexander into the forest behind it.
Alexander stood up, running back around to the front of the Death Stalker to catch it's attention before it could go to attack anyone else. He reloaded and fired a shot at it's stinger just to pull its attention and almost immediately regretted it when that same stinger came stabbing down right where he was, barely moments before. He backed up slowly out of the stinger's range, firing a shot every couple seconds just to keep the Grimm's attention.
He fired several shots at the Death Stalker's shell, leaving no lasting damage. Looking around himself briefly, he saw Quentin slashing through several Beowolves at a time with his massive sword, down to just a coupe left. On the other side, Amber had burned down all the Beowolves she had to face, and was running to help him.
A crack of thunder echoed through the clearing again, and Alexander watched as a bullet gouged a trough along the Death Stalker's armor, but ultimately did little more than startle it. Running forward once more, Alexander dodged a stab from the tail, but the claws once again forced him to back up when they swiped wildly at him.
Amber stopped next to him, and Alexander could practically watch the gears in her head turning. She looked back and motioned for Uranus to shoot at the tail as Quentin walked calmly up to join the other two.
"Quentin, if Uranus puts a shot through the tail, do you think you can cut it off?" She asked, smirking slightly when Quentin just smiled and nodded confidently. "Alexander, what else can your pistols do?" He spun them in response and held his escrima sticks, the ends sparking with electricity.
"That'll work. You're going on a ride." She said, and spun her staff, launching Alexander high up into the air barely a moment later, as another crack of thunder bounced around the clearing, putting a massive hole through the Grimm's tail near the stinger. High up in the air, well above the treeline, and suppressing his surprise and fear, Alexander spread his arms as he reached the peak of his flight, before tucking them back in as he started to fall back down.
Quentin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pulled his zanbato off his back. His eyes snapped back open when Alexander was halfway back down, and, with a huge windup, threw his sword spinning through the air to cut off the stinger. It was just barely starting to fall when Alexander came out of his flip, slamming the ends of his escrima sticks down onto the stinger, the lightning dust exploding violently, and sending the stinger down into and through the Death Stalker's head, digging into the dirt beneath it.
Alexander was thrown back, skidding along the ground to the edge of the clearing, his escrima sticks digging into the dirt to slow him down. He stood up after a moment, a little shakily, holding himself up with a hand on the tree next to him.
He looked up to see Quentin wrenching his zanbato from the trunk of the tree it was lodged in, leaving a sizable gouge in the bark of the wood. He put his sword back on his back, held in place by what Alexander assumed must be a fairly powerful magnet. Uranus walked over with a smile, his sniper rifle held across the back of his shoulders.
"We need to get back to Ozpin. We've spent too much time in this damned forest for my liking." Uranus said, looking at Quentin pointedly, who just nodded and followed him off into the forest.
"We should probably go with them. Don't want to get lost." Amber said, walking off into the forest, flanked by Alexander.
"Well, if we did get lost you could always launch me a thousand feet into the air to make sure we know where we're going." Alexander said, with just the barest hint of vaguely veiled annoyance and sarcasm.
"Hey, that was a perfectly viable strategy and you know it!" Amber yelled back at Alexander, starting a small exchange of bickering and joking that they enjoyed while they walked through the forest and up the cliff.
...
A/N: Hey all, hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, especially the second half. Can you guys guess where and how I drew inspiration for Alexander, both his name and his emblem? I'll give you a hint, he draws his name from two of history's greatest military leaders.
What do you guys think about the two other OCs I made to round out team AQUA?
Any feedback you guys give me is appreciated, and I love to see it in Reviews and PMs.
Thanks to Bulba Fett for being my Beta for this story, and also a great guy to bounce my crazy, borderline ridiculous theories off of.
Bulba Fett: Yes, thank the almighty me! *cough* yeah, that. :P