I sit in a room with a single light, which flickers occasionally and gives the room a rather eerie feeling. As the door opens and a man with black clothes and silver hair steps through, I stand up from the metal chair and go to salute, but the man waves his hand for me to stop. In his other is a mug of coffee, which he drinks from before speaking.
"You're not being court-martialed," he smiles as he pulls out a file, presumably about me, "No need for salutes."
"Sorry, sir," I say as I sit back down, "Force of habit. Military schools do that to you."
"Well, on that note, let's take a look at your record. Galen Freeman, just graduated top of your class at Mistral Armed Forces Academy, made it to the finals in the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row, at which point Pyrrha Nikos beat you after a very prolonged and heated battle each time. Pyrrha is actually another applicant to my school, so I hope your losses haven't left you bitter."
"No, Professor Ozpin, I'm actually good friends with her. I believe that every loss is a chance to learn, improve, and overcome. That, and our families are friends and I've known her since I was a child."
"Interesting. Tell me, why did you decide to apply to Beacon instead of going straight into the military?"
"Being a Hunter is the best way I can think of to help people and become the best fighter I can. The military is mostly doing riot control right now, not really much useful. Monsters are a constant threat, and we'll always need people to fight them. I'm confident that I can be one of those people. Besides, I was born with a warrior's instincts, so I might as well use them."
"I see. Well... I certainly don't see any reason to not let you in, so welcome to Beacon."
"Thank you, Professor," I say as we stand up and shake hands, "I don't plan to disappoint."
A few days later I'm on an airship heading to Beacon. I lean against the wall, cross my arms, and look around at the others. Everyone is talking except for one girl, who's sitting in a corner reading a book. I walk over and stand next to her, taking a look at the title.
"Hey, I liked that book," I say, surprising her.
"You've read it?"
"Yeah, I actually finished it just last night. I liked how it subtly compared his struggle to everyday moral decisions. It really makes you think, you know?"
"Yeah."
"By the way, I'm Galen."
"Blake. Would you happen to be related to the Freeman Firearms Company?"
"Yeah, my parents own it."
"Oh, then I'm sure you've heard about that scandal last year."
"The one with the faulty parts being covered up? I was the one who first brought that out! I found one while designing my weapons, and after a bit of investigation I went to the cops. I'm just lucky I found out before someone got injured, or worse."
"Wow. I don't imagine your family took that too well."
"Well, my mom was the same old profit-first ice queen, but my dad was ecstatic. He actually paid my full tuition so I wouldn't have to join the military."
"You were at a military school?"
"Mistral Armed Forces Academy. I'd be in boot camp right now if Dad hadn't made that offer. Well, I've taken enough of your time, I'll leave you to your book now. Good luck."
"Thanks, you too."
I walk away and take another look at the crowd, noticing a boy my age with blond hair who looks like he's about to throw up.
"Hey, blond guy! There's a trash can over here!"
He rushes over to me as I nudge the trash can closer with my foot. He barely makes it before his breakfast makes an unwanted reappearance. After a few moments he regains his composure, stands up, and looks at me.
"Thanks for that. I'm Jaune."
"Galen," I say as we shake hands. I notice a sword in a scabbard on his belt. "Nice sword. Judging from the handle, I'd say that's War-era."
"Yeah, it's a hand-me-down."
"Hand-me-down? That thing should be in a gold-plated trophy chest! I have a lot of respect for weapons of all kinds, even simple ones. Doesn't mean I didn't want to design cool high-tech ones for myself."
"You designed your weapons?"
"Yeah." I indicate the metal elbow-length gauntlets I'm wearing, and with a single thought each turns into a pistol. "Meet the Hands of Death. They go from full-hand gauntlets to seven-inch serrated combat knives in a matter of moments. They also turn into high-caliber pistols with ambidextrous fire select switches. There's even an optional suppressor for those times when you just don't feel like dealing with some dude's friends. They have microchips that sense my brainwaves and change to any of the four forms just by my thinking of it. That also means I'm the only one who can use them."
"Uhh..." Jaune is clearly lost, trying to figure out what I just said.
"Basically metal gauntlets that can turn into knives and guns."
"Oh."
"Yeah, I love my weapons. I went for a combination of cool and functional, and I painted them green and black 'cause they're my favorite colors."
"Nice! The only special thing about my weapon is that the scabbard turns into a shield. Not really the coolest of gimmicks."
"Oh, I've heard of those! I always loved that, your defense and your offense can both be in your hand in moments. Judging from the fact that you're headed to Beacon, you must be pretty good with those. Coordinating a sword and a shield takes skill, especially against multiple opponents."
"Uhh... Thanks," Jaune says, rubbing the back of his neck. Just from observing his body language I can tell he isn't the most confident of people, but he has a lot of spirit. Give him some more confidence and he'd probably make a great leader.
"Well," I say, "It's been nice talking to you, but I'm gonna just take a few minutes to make some adjustments on my weapons."
"Okay. Bye."
I walk over to a secluded corner and set down one of my guns. I pull a few tools out of one of my jacket pockets and start making small adjustments to the trigger. I hear rustling from beside me and I look over to see Blake sitting down.
"Hey," she says, and I respond with a nod. We sit in silence as I tinker with my weapon. Every now and then she asks me about a modification I make, and I can tell she takes a mental note of my answer. After a few minutes I put the tools away and convert the gun back into its gauntlet form. I hear footsteps approaching and look up to see Pyrrha walking towards me, followed by Weiss Schnee.
"Pyrrha, Weiss," I say, "Good to see you."
"You know each other?" Pyrrha asks, surprised.
"Yeah," Weiss says, "We met at a party my parents threw a few years back. We've kept in contact and sparred every now and then."
Blake gets up and walks away, and the other two girls watch her leave.
"What's her deal?" Pyrrha asks, slightly offended.
"She's like me," I say, "Quiet unless we're talking about something we're really passionate about."
"Ah. So, why are you here instead of the Mistral military base?"
"I felt I could do more as a Hunter. Besides, after I blew the whistle on that corruption issue, my dad made me an offer to pay my tuition and release me from my service obligation. Although I have to say the board were more agreeable once they learned I was planning to be a Hunter."
"My impression was that the scandal was putting the company under," Weiss says.
"Actually," I say, "People learned that my family had dealt with the issue personally, and a lot of them gained respect for us. They heard that it had been covered up because a recall would have cost a ton of money, and realized that most of our people value customers over money. At first it was a PR nightmare, but after firing and arresting the corrupt people, plus a few weeks' time, it did a complete turnaround. We've actually been getting more business since then. I guess applying morals to your business really helps."
A voice comes on the speakers, cutting off the news report that was droning in the background.
"Hello, and welcome to Beacon! I am Glynda Goodwitch. You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."
"Well," I say, "Guess that means we're landing soon."
We say our goodbyes and I head to the door, hoping to be one of the first out. As the door opens, I see Jaune running past, clearly about to throw up again. I head over to the luggage pile and pick up my suitcase, then follow the crowd towards the main building.
After a few minutes of walking, I find myself in a large auditorium, which is already mostly full. A few minutes later Professor Ozpin steps onto the stage, walks over to the microphone, and clears his throat.
"I'll... keep this brief. You have traveled here today in search of knowledge. To hone your craft and acquire new skills, and when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy - in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."
As he leaves the stage, a blonde woman steps up to the microphone and says, "You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed."
As I walk to the ballroom, I reflect on what Professor Ozpin said.
"He seem a bit different to you?" Pyrrha asks me, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
"Yeah," I muse, "Now that you mention it, he did. I wonder what's going on. Probably has something to do with that initiation the blonde lady mentioned."
"You mean Glynda?"
"The same Glynda from that announcement on the airship?"
"Yes. I've met her before, but we were on the other side of a crowd on the airship, so you couldn't see her on the screen."
"Her voice did sound familiar," I say, "So, you want to see what kind of gym they have once we set up our sleeping bags?"
"Sure," she says, "Hold on, what's that sign?" She points to a sign at the entrance to the ballroom. It has a map of the school, which I quickly memorize, with a room marked 'lockers.' There's also a note asking us to deposit our weapons in the lockers.
"Well," I say, "Where there's a locker room, there's a gym. I'll meet you there."
We head into the ballroom and I haul my suitcase over to a corner with a good view of all the windows and exits. I unroll my sleeping bag and toss my pillow down at the head, then put my suitcase at the foot.
I dust my hands off and head to the gym. I happen to reach the locker room at the same time as Pyrrha. We walk into the gym together and take a look around, and I immediately spot a boxing ring.
"You want to spar?" I ask, "I've learned a couple new techniques since last time, you'll love them."
"Sounds good," she grins at me. We walk over to the ring and Pyrra puts down her weapons as I drop my gauntlets on the floor and slide them under the ring. I hop in the ring and stretch out a bit, then turn to face Pyrrha.
"You ready?" she asks as she sinks into a fighting stance.
"Let's go," I say.
We run at each other, and Pyrrha attempts to land a flying right-hand punch. I catch it with my right hand and grab her right shoulder with my left hand, then slam her into the mat. She rolls out from under me and throws a spinning kick, but I dodge it and come in with a right cross. She mimics my earlier move and slams me into the mat. She attempts to drive her heel into my spine but I roll over, catch her foot, and throw her across the ring. We both stand back up, dripping with sweat, looking for an opening.
"You're a quick learner," I say, "Can't say I've had anyone else learn my moves that quickly."
"You're surprised?" she jokes, "It's not like we do this every year or anything."
We circle each other for a few moments, trying to gauge each others' intentions. A small crowd has begun to build up, anxious to see two famous Mistral Regional Tournament competitors in action. Among them is Jaune, and Pyrrha's gaze seems to linger on him. I raise my eyebrows questioningly, only to get a death glare in reply.
Before she can regain her focus, I lunge forward with a roundhouse kick to the torso. She doesn't react in time to block, but she absorbs the force of the blow and uses the momentum to get out of range, then comes in with a flying punch. I roll out of the way, only to receive a knee to the face. I recover and manage to sweep her legs out from under her, putting her on her back. I attempt a curb stomp, but she rolls out of the way, which is exactly what I expected. She stands up, but before she can turn to face me, I catch her in a chokehold, being careful to not put too much force on her neck. She sighs and taps my forearm, signaling her surrender. The entire fight lasted less than a minute and a half. I release her and we shake hands, then head to towel off and collect our gear.
The audience cheers and applauds us, and someone throws a towel to each of us. The crowd abruptly separates to reveal Professor Ozpin walking towards us.
"Impressive," he says as he shakes hands with each of us, "Not many students here have experience with hand-to-hand combat."
"I see it as both fun and necessary," I say, "I've always been very interested and skilled in hand-to-hand, so I thought it was only natural to use my strength to my advantage. It led me to design my weapons the way they are. I got my master's belt years ago, and since then I've been coming up with new techniques and perfecting old ones."
"And he taught me everything I know," Pyrrha says.
"Interesting," Ozpin says, "I understand that you also bring some level of live-fire combat experience to the table as well."
"What's he talking about?" Pyrrha asks, looking at me worriedly.
"Someone sent a group of hit men after me a few years back," I say, "I think it was to try to leverage my dad into a deal. They came after me at least five times, and I beat them down every time."
"What?" Pyrrha says, shocked.
"And on top of that," Ozpin says, "You declined a protective detail every time, saying, and I quote, 'this is something I prefer to do myself.' It was around then that you caught my eye as a potential Beacon candidate."
"You were considering inviting me ahead of my graduation?" I ask, now very surprised.
"Yes," Ozpin says, "Although in the end we decided it would be best if we let you finish up at your current school. We felt you might have more to offer that way."
"Wow," I say, "This is... surprising."
"We also managed to pull a few strings to keep the media away," Ozpin adds, "It's hard to learn when you're being swarmed by cameras."
"Amen to that," Pyrrha says, "I don't know how Weiss has managed with all the pressure she's under."
"That's right," Ozpin muses, "You two are acquainted with Weiss Schnee, aren't you?"
"Yes," I say, "I'm honestly not a fan of a Dust-reliant fighting style. Doesn't leave a lot of options if, or rather when, you run out of juice."
"Yes," Ozpin says, "Many students here seem to lack in adaptability."
Ozpin checks a clock on the wall. "Well," he says, "It's getting late, best you turn in. Big day tomorrow."
"Yes," Pyrrha says, "Good night, Professor Ozpin."
I say good night as well, and Pyrrha and I head back to the lockers. Pyrrha heads over to Weiss and picks a locker near her, while I find a relatively empty area and pick a locker. I memorize the number and lock combination, then place my gauntlets on the top shelf. I close the door and head back to the ballroom, making sure to take note of the rooms I see along the way.
I arrive to see a few people already in their sleeping bags, but most are still milling about. I walk over to my sleeping bag and prop it open. I set my black combat boots next to the suitcase, remove my valuables from my pockets, and throw the rest of my clothing into a compartment separate from my clean clothes. I pull on a pair of sweatpants and lie down on top of my sleeping bag, pulling a magazine out of my suitcase as I do so. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Blake sit down in a chair, light a candle, and open her book up. I smile as a blonde girl drags a small redheaded girl over to Blake, and the two try to start a conversation with her. To my surprise, after a few minutes of awkward attempts, the redhead says something that seems to surprise Blake, who then gets surprisingly involved in the conversation.
I see Weiss enter in her pajamas, and the moment she sees the redhead her eyes light up with anger. Meanwhile, the redhead and the blonde have started to wrestle, causing some people to give them annoyed looks, and others to grin wolfishly. Weiss walks over to them and attempts to silence them, resulting in an argument between her and the blonde. From what I can hear at this distance, Weiss seems to have taken a disliking towards the redhead, who I hear the blonde refer to as 'my sister.' After a couple more words, Blake blows out her candles, removing the room's last light source. I toss my magazine into my suitcase and roll on to my side, quickly fading in to a deep sleep.