So, originally this was supposed to be a Ruby chapter, but then I realized that I'd be time-skipping to the beginning of her Volume 4 arc for that, and there was still a bit more setup to do preparing what Weiss and Gray would be doing in Atlas during that time. So... here we are!

If you wish to support me and my college tuition, please check out my P a treon for future chapter summaries, story ideas and more: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444

Beta-ed by xenosaiyan

Cinder tried not to limp as her heels clicked along the black halls of Salem's castle, the Scarab within her doing its best to soothe her altered biology. She'd not been so sore from training since she was eleven, brutally driven into the ground by her captors and their efforts to turn her into their ultimate weapon. Now, she had ascended beyond anything they ever could have imagined, a living natural disaster that could annihilate armies. If she had faced Wendy Marvell as she was now, she would have crushed the Maiden of the Sky beneath her glass heels, Dragon Slayer or not. The maiden's power had tested her mettle alone, and now she wielded both magic and a mighty curse at her will.

Of course, given the strain said curse had produced on her body in her… eagerness, perhaps she could take a bit of time to master its use before facing the Fairy Tail wizard again. It wasn't as if she could kill her after all, Salem's order still stood.

Which left her curious why she had been called to the Queen's inner sanctum. Her mistress had taken to handling the business of her grander designs for the day, leaving her, Emerald, and Mercury to practice their powers as they would instead of tolling under her direct instructions. Being abruptly called away from battering her minions was more than unusual.

Perhaps they were being sent out on assignment again? No, they hadn't near mastered their new states yet. Was there some detail about the Fall of Beacon that needed her personal clarification? But she'd already told her that Ozpin was dead!

At last, she arrived at the towering double doors of her mistress' chambers, a Keeper diligently waiting at the threshold. When it noted her approach, one of its long, spindly tentacles latched itself into the door handle and tugged the gate opponent. Cinder strode in without a word, determined to hold her head high despite her current discomfort.

The room was as sparse as any of her previous visits, an elegant but simple bed off to the side, along with a few other personal affects. For all her grand designs and gargantuan castle, Salem didn't seem interested in elaborately decorating her private quarters.

The Queen stood in the center of the room, a Keeper floating before her, a figure's head wreathed in shadows within its bulbous head.

"Arthur has just arrived, and my assets have set him up in a lab in the slums. He's been posturing that it's far below his standards, but he understands that it will keep him out of the public eye until the time is right," A familiar voice spoke from within the Grimm, a smile instantly blooming across Cinder's face. "It'll also provide a safe enough temporary hiding place for the books, until we can acquire the vault."

"Make sure your Scarab is operating at full capacity then," Salem commanded. "I want you to begin as soon as Hazel's asset arrives."

"The Blood-Soaked Bull? You don't think he might be a liability? We didn't exactly take his side."

Salem scoffed. "He brought this upon himself, betraying his mentor for mere power. Despicable. Still, if what's under his mask is any indication, he will be more than happy to take his rage out on the SDC."

"Fair enough. I'll keep an eye out just in case he starts spilling something he shouldn't."

"Good. Oh, and before you go," Salem stepped back and smiled at Cinder, inviting her forward. "I believe our newest Gate would like to speak with you."

"Oh? Oh!" the shadowed figure squealed joyfully. "Cinder! Oh, how are you, my little princess? Did the ascension go well?"

Cinder fought off her blush from her mentor using her nickname in front of Salem and marched forward into the sight of the Keeper, grinning. "It has, Teacher. I stand before you, the Black Queen, an equal at last, the Gate of the Archer and the Fall Maiden."

"Excellent," Teacher replied. "I'm so proud of you, Cinder. Ooo, let's see, the Archer is paired with Enhancement, correct, my lady?"

Salem nodded. "Correct."

"Hmm… be careful then," the shadowed woman advised, pursing her lips in concern. "Unlimited Strength may sound good on paper, but every body has a limit to how much it can be boosted. There's a reason most people don't survive when it's used on them."

Cinder scoffed. "Please, teacher. I am more than capable of judging my limits."

Salem frowned. "Which is why you came in here limping."

The Fall Maiden nearly glared at her mistress, before realizing that such petulance would not be well received. Besides, her expression quickly shifted to chastised when she noticed Teacher's worried glare.

"Listen to her grace's instructions, young lady," the Gate of the Maiden commanded. "You are immensely talented, but no one knows the dangers of the Etherious curses better than our queen."

"Yes, ma'am," Cinder pouted, glancing away. Honestly, she'd already been planning to defer to Salem's expertise in the matter anyway. Teacher's words just confirmed that she was already making a wise decision, it didn't immediately decide the matter… completely…

"Excellent," Teacher nodded. "Now then, what's this I hear about you making friends at Beacon?"

Cinder's face immediately went red, a scowl pursing her lips. "Nothing. I was at Beacon to acquire the Fall Maiden's power, not make friends."

"Oh really? Then who are these Emerald and Mercury people our mistress has told me of?"

The Gate of the Archer whipped around to face the Dark Queen, but Salem merely grinned back at her. The infernal demon had recruited Teacher to her damn sunshine and rainbows friendship crusade? That was just underhanded. She might have even admired the move if it didn't fill her with undying rage.

"Emerald and Mercury are my minions, foot soldiers," Cinder growled. "They are not my equals, and they are certainly not friends."

"They are not your minions anymore," Salem corrected her. "You nominated them as candidates for the Gates and they have risen to take that honored place. I may place them under your command in a future operation, but they are your equals in our family, Cinder. It does you no credit to look down on them."

"Yup," Teacher concurred. "Come on, my little princess. Don't tell me you spent all that time at Beacon, and didn't feel anything for them? I know from experience that not even the biggest sourpusses can stay stingy there."

Cinder groaned. "I was there to destroy the school, if you recall. And I have no need of friends. I serve the Queen and I have you. That's all I need."

"And if you lose me?"

The Fall Maiden's face went pale. "That… that will never happen. You're… you. And even if some fool did get lucky, Hell's Core would just bring you right back."

Teacher shrugged. "Anything can happen. Death is always a possibility. For the fortunate, at least."

Salem sighed, a look of utter despair overtaking her for the briefest moment.

"But in any case," the Gate of the Maiden continued. "Did you not recruit them in the first place because they were useful?"

Cinder glanced away. "Well… yes."

Mercury had done well discovering Nikos' semblance, and thanks in part to that information, Emerald had proven crucial in tricking the Mistral champion into killing the Atlas android. But that was to be expected of them! After all, she didn't pick just anyone off the streets to help her, if she was going to provide them with a path to power (albeit less than her own) then they had better not slow her down. Besides, Roman and Neo had proven themselves useful, and no one had badgered her to befriend them when they were still alive.

"Look at it this way," Teacher pointed out. "In the most pragmatic of terms, friendship is an exchange of affection. You care about someone so that they will care about you. And in return, both of you are enriched. In other words, the more friends you have, the more powerful you are. And don't you want to be powerful?"

'More than anything.'

"I fail to see how that's a superior approach to forcing someone to your will," she said instead. "A friend can always choose to turn on you should it be in their best interests, while one bent to your will by fear and respect will never dare risk such betrayal."

"If they betray you, then they are no true friend," Salem proclaimed, her eyes narrowed.

"Just try it," Teacher pleaded. "Talk with Mercury and Emerald. Get to know them, really. See if being around them, having fun with them, is for you."

If it were anyone else making the request, Cinder would have immolated their tongue. But, since it was Teacher making the request, she only rolled her eyes. "As you wish."

"That's my princess," her mentor grinned, before turning back to Salem. "I have to go. The meeting is about to begin. You'll keep me up to date on the hunt?"

Salem nodded. "Don't worry. I want to see them again just as much as you."

"With all due respect, your grace, I believe that is only true for half of them."

Her final words spoken, Teacher's image faded from the Keeper's bulb, a dark miasma returning to the Grimm's body.

Cinder turned to her mistress, an eyebrow raised. "What did she mean by that? I assume she meant the hunt for Team RWBY, so why would she wish to see any of them again? When would she have seen them before in the first place?"

A cheeky smile overtook Salem's face. "Ah, yes, I suppose you wouldn't know the details of who your dear teacher was before joining my side."

Cinder scowled, annoyed at the Queen's uncharacteristic runaround. "What? Was she another Fairy Tail wizard?"

Salem smirked, the darkness of her chambers almost laughing for her. "Not exactly."

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"Was the blindfold really necessary?" Weiss inquired, striding down a dark underground hall, Drizzella at her side in full Intelligence uniform. "This place is in the middle of nowhere as it is."

The dark-haired woman shrugs. "Once we know for sure you're with us for sure, COMMAND ESR and Agent Tremaine will make the call on whether you can know the locations of our safe houses. Until then, we follow protocol."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "I've already said I'd help you."

"Perhaps, but you're used to constant rush of huntress duty, Ms. Schnee. Intelligence work can have the same kinds of highs, but there's usually a lot more tedium in between them," Drizzella explained. "Trust me, I've done both for nearly my entire life. It is almost never as pulse-pounding as Spruce Willis or John Binding movies make it look."

Hardly a problem. Weiss wasn't her teammates. Ruby may have longed for the dramatics of heroism, Blake may have demanded she act in the name of justice, and Yang may have just needed to punch something every hour or go insane, but the heiress was more than used to the idea of taking smaller steps to prepare for a big leap instead of jumping right out of the gate. And if she wasn't, Fairy Tail had more than instilled that value into her when they'd kept her team from rushing off after Tartaros immediately. If Intelligence required her to actually gather information in order to stop the conspiracy against the kingdom and secure her position as her father's heir, she would gladly do it, no questions asked.

Of course, there was one detail about her sister's former teammate's reasoning that piqued a query in Weiss' mind.

"You watch Spruce Willis and John Binding movies?" she asked with an impetuous smirk. "You?"

Drizzella let out a long sigh and her face fell into the palm of her hand. "Ana got me into them at the academy. You are not to tell Agent Tremaine."

"Right, of course," Weiss assured her quickly. It wouldn't do to get on her new coworker's bad side over something so trivial, though she was hardly done ribbing her over it. If her time with Team RWBY and Fairy Tail had taught her anything, it was that friendly teasing was quite effective at forming camaraderie. "But still, you? I wouldn't expect the only person Winter ever acknowledged as a 'perfect, rule-abiding soldier' to be a fan of such unsophisticated entertainment."

The dark-haired woman shrugged. "Mistral's films are called 'art'. Vale's are called popcorn flicks. I spend enough time looking for hidden meanings at work to know what I will enjoy in my sparse off-time. Though, I can't help but notice that such lowbrow productions seem quite beneath the elegant Schnee heiress as well."

"My team leader wouldn't take no for an answer," Weiss revealed. "They're really not so bad."

"Quite," Drizzella agreed. "I'm especially fond of From Mantle with Love. You?"

"Dustfinger," Weiss grinned. While most John Binding movies had the titular spy go up against terrorists or mad scientists, snagging a beautiful woman along the way, her favorite of the bunch had him foiling the scheme of a corrupt, sadistic businessman plotting to make himself richer off the suffering of the less fortunate. She loved to imagine her father in his place when the climax came and the dashing secret agent beast the bastard to a bloody pulp. It was therapeutic.

"Respectable choice," Drizzella conceded, the two of them finally coming to the end of the long hall, a thick steel door barring their way. The spy stepped forward to a panel to the side and placed her palm on it. A laser light flared over her exposed skin for a second before an affirmative chime rang through the air and the door slid open, both women filing into the entrance.

The room they'd entered was bathed in shadows, the walls out of sight in the cloak of the darkness. The only spotlights in the room were focused on the long round table at the center, a dozen swivel-mounted chairs positioned around it.

Gray sat in one of them, facing away from the entrance and towards a woman in the same uniform as Drizzella, only with a pair of golden stars adorning her coat collar. She looked somewhat similar to the other agent, her piercing yellow eyes easily suggesting them as family, but the scattering of wrinkles on her face and the streaks of gray in her elegantly tied up black hair identified her as the generation before their own, on par with Ozpin if Weiss had to guess. Though, she held herself far more domineeringly than the late, gentle headmaster ever had.

"And your response when he asks for your thoughts on the matter?" she demanded of Gray

The Ice-Make wizard rolled his eyes. "The Faunus Rights Revolution was decades ago. My company prefers to focus on the now—"

The woman scowled and a claw of fire leapt up from her shadows, streaking for Gray's face. The Fairy Tail wizard flinched back and threw out his hand, a veil of pink ice cocooning the fiery limb.

"Seriously?" Gray exclaimed.

The claw of fire disappeared from within the entrapment, the ice evaporated once it was gone. A moment later, a house cat made of pure flames rose up from the woman's shadow and leapt onto her shadow, leaving her clothes and skin unmarred for some strange reason. She smiled softly as she petted the fiery phantasm, which purred and mewled like a real feline.

"You froze Lucifer, Agent Fullbuster," she remarked plainly.

"And you attacked me with him!"

"A small price to pay if it helps you learn. No matter how powerful you are, if you don't know information a man of your covers would know, you will bungle the entire operation," the woman scowled. "Your target was a conservative businessman. Referring to that particular conflict as the Faunus Rights Revolution instead of the Faunus Wars would not curry his favor."

"Because it sounds prettier?"

"Because idiots like him prefer to think of themselves as having lost a war instead of tried to exile an entire species to a third-rate island."

"And what about you, Agent Tremaine?" Weiss inquired, stepping forward, Gray and the woman turning to her. "What do you call that 'particular conflict'?"

The older intelligence agent scoffed. "A farce. I served at Fort Castle. If any lessons were to be taken from that disaster, it was not to put imbeciles like General Lagune in charge of an army and don't fight a war to keep a fifth of your population miserable when the Grimm are still at your gates."

"Sensible," Weiss noted. "Eleanor Tremaine, I presume?"

The agent of Atlas frowned. "I see Winter has been speaking far too freely about what little she knows."

"Relax, Tremaine," Gray smirked, rising to his feet and engulfing Weiss in a hug which she eagerly returned. "Find the place alright?"

"I found the rendezvous alright, if nowhere else," Weiss replied. "Fortunately, Klein was more than willing to let me tag along when he drove Whitley into the city to start his internship."

Gray smirked. "Guess it pays to have a doting butler."

"True, though fair warning, he thinks I'm meeting up with the handsome boy everyone says I snuck off to the gardens with during the gala," Weiss informed him. "So, be prepared for lots of questions if you two ever meet."

Gray suddenly looked very nervous, pulling away from their hug, and glancing away from her. "That's… um… something."

Weiss raised an eyebrow. It was rare to see her old teacher so… flustered. Even when he stripped and his icy composure broke, he always had some sense of dignity about him. Now, he was dithering like an awkward schoolboy.

Fortunately, Eleanor tutted to draw their attention. "If you're done gossiping, let's begin."

She took her seat at the table, Drizzella setting down on her right. Weiss looked to Gray for confirmation that it was safe, and when nodded back, they sat down next to each other.

The table split open into two semi-circles and a project rose up from the new gap. The lights of the device flickered for a few moments until a blue hologram flared to life, taking on the shape of a woman in the same model uniform as Eleanor, save with a simple silver medal over her right breast. Over her face, however, she wore a completely covering black mask, the symbol of Atlas painted boldly over the dark metal.

"Special Agent Tremaine, Agent Tremaine, Agent Fullbuster," the masked figure acknowledged, her voice electronically distorted. She glanced over Weiss. "And Ms. Schnee. A pleasure to have you with us. I am the Director of Atlas Intelligence, COMMAND ESR."

"Thank you. It's good to be here," Weiss nodded. "Though, I didn't think I'd be dealing with a mask."

There wasn't a person in the kingdom that didn't know about the Director of Atlas Intelligence, at least as an idea. After the agency was founded forty years ago to ensure nothing like the intelligence fiasco of Fort Castle ever happened again, the leader was always known by the title of COMMAND with a short designation following to tell them apart. Soon after, anyone who had leaked state secrets to help the faunus forces, for whatever reason, were either brought before the Council, or mysteriously disappeared. There hadn't been anything on that scale since, and this person was undoubtedly not the one who performed it unless they were even older than Eleanor, but people had taken to stepping lightly around the name since, no matter if they knew who was behind the mask or not.

That wouldn't work for Weiss. After Cinder and her gang had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes at Beacon, she was not eager to have more secrets kept from her.

"The true identity of COMMAND is one of the kingdom's most highly classified secrets," Drizzella explained. "Special Agent Tremaine is the only person in this room with clearance to know, and that it is only because COMMAND ESR made a special exception eight years ago."

"Then make a special exception again," Weiss said. "You came to me. If we're going to work together, I'm not going to be your tin soldier."

"The fate of this kingdom is at stake," Eleanor growled. "Are you really going to allow Atlas to suffer the fate of Beacon? Or worse? Over something so childish?"

"It's childish to want to know who I'm working with?"

"You know who we are. We are Atlas Intelligence. We protect the kingdom's interests."

Gray frowned. "And who decides that? You guys are investigating the council, right?"

Drizzella's eyes narrowed. "You're a part of 'you guys', remember, Fullbuster? You signed on willingly."

"I wouldn't call being threatened with a prison sentence 'willingly'."

"You committed the crime. All we did was step in to save you."

"And all we want to know is whose name is on the pardon," Weiss said. "Is that really so hard? A name and a face in exchange for two wizards. I'd say that's fair trade, extenuating circumstances equal to whatever happened eight years at least."

That was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth. Instantly, both Tremaines were glaring at her, Eleanor shooting to her feet with a snarl. "Listen here, little girl, you have no idea what happened during Godmother's Haven—"

"Special Agent Tremaine," COMMAND ESR interrupted, not even raising her voice. Immediately, Eleanor's mouth closed, and she retook her seat, her yellow eyes glaring daggers at the white-haired huntress.

The holographic woman turned to Weiss. The huntress tried to meet her eyeless stare, but if only for the elevation, it felt like she was being looked down on, like an unruly.

And yet, when she next spoke, the director addressed her as nothing less than an equal.

"Ms. Schnee, no one here can question your skill or your love of this kingdom," she said. "That said, the situation, at least at present, has not escalated near enough for me to divulge a state secret such as that without General Ironwood's permission. I am sorry."

Weiss pursed her lips. "So General Ironwood knows who you are?"

"He does. Intelligence is a branch of the military, along with the Specialists and the regular army. Both I and Commander Obsidian report directly to him."

The heiress tapped her fingers across the table before nodding. "Very well." If General Ironwood knew who she was and trusted her, then she could at least give her a bit of the benefit of the doubt. "But I do need you to tell me something else."

Eleanor looked ready to rip her head off, but COMMAND ESR raised a hand to keep her down. "Name it."

"How did you know Gray and I were wizards?" she demanded. "For that matter, how did you know about magic at all? That's not exactly public information."

"We don't often deal in public information," Eleanor reminded her.

COMMAND ESR tapped out something into a console on her end, a quartet of images rising before her in the hologram. One contained ancient carvings, another was of Yang blasting Mercury at the Vytal Festival, while the last two contained various explosions and light shows.

"With the varied and reality-bending possibilities of semblances, identifying anything in our records as truly mystical is a difficult undertaking," the director admitted. "However, detailed research over the last few has confirmed that only the Schnee semblance, and a few other rare bloodlines, possess a hereditary semblance. Thus, the appearance of this phenomenon across multiple generations of different, unconnected families, among members whose confirmed semblances were on record proved… puzzling."

One of the last two images were enlarged and began playing multiple video clips of different men and woman, in vastly varying sets of clothing and armaments, staring down hordes of Grimm. In each, there was a flash of silver light, and when it faded, the offending demons were either dust or turned to stone.

Weiss and Gray's eyes widened. "That's a lot of Silver Spirit Slayers."

"Ancient texts call them Silver-Eyed Warriors, often as angelic counterparts to Golden-Eyed Warriors or a dark witch or a green wizard," COMMAND ESR continued. "With such a potential weapon against the Grimm, we, of course, looked into the legends. But other than this footage, locating and recruiting members of the bloodlines proved almost impossible."

"We had one a few years ago," Drizzella revealed, a mournful frown tainting her face.

"And she died on her first mission," Eleanor noted sullenly. "Should have trained her better."

"What's done is done," COMMAND ESR brushed off. "Nevertheless, from what data we did receive from the uses of these silver eyes, we managed to form a general outline of their energy readouts. And over time, we came to notice several events around the globe involving similar, though not exactly the same, energy." She enlarged the other image, playing dozens of videos of various explosions or releases of light. "Outside Argus, eighteen years ago. The Vale countryside, fourteen months ago. Even right here in the heart of Atlas a mere thirteen months ago. The readings of dozens of events, many in the Grimmlands, have proved far too similar to not be the same type of power, if not the same user. As such, in light of any more appropriate term, we took to calling it magic, which you both have ironically enough confirmed to be correct. Life can be funny that way."

"Right," Weiss groaned, glancing at the image of Yang burning off Mercury's pants at the end of their match. "And you figured out me and Team RWBY were wizards when we produced those same readings at the Vytal Festival."

"And when I made them all around the city," Gray noted glumly.

"You froze aura-dampening handcuffs," Drizzella reminded him. "It's difficult to pass that off as a semblance."

"Quite," Gray replied, only for his brow to furrow in thought a moment later. "Did you say there was a burst of magic in the city thirteen months ago? Exactly thirteen months ago?"

Drizzella cocked an eyebrow, but got out her scroll and searched through some files. "Yes, thirteen months ago. It was on a slightly different wavelength than usual, but it was most definitely magic. Why?"

Weiss and Gray shared a curious look. Thirteen months ago was when Gray's Fairy Sphere had released him onto Remnant, for no apparent reason. Had this burst been what had let him loose? But if it wasn't a Fairy Tail wizard who did it, the magic that struck the sphere would have to have been ungodly powerful, even if the containment orb was strained from abnormal use. In a world nearly bereft of ethernano, what could possibly be that strong?

"Where did this burst originate from?" Weiss inquired.

"Polendina Labs," Eleanor answered ruefully. "We tried to get approval for a search, but the head scientist does some kind of tightlipped work for Ironwood. We were barred from doing anything."

"Perhaps if we hadn't been, we could have stopped him from testing an experimental combat drone in a fighting tournament for children," COMMAND ESR sighed. "However, he and Dr. Polendina have been no more accommodating since Beacon, so, for now, we cannot make a move without permission. Either way, it is not our primary concern at the moment. The Council Chairwoman's possible treason is."

Weiss frowned. She really wanted to find out more about why the people who apparently made Penny were dabbling with magic powerful enough to open up a Fairy Sphere, but after a statement like that, she couldn't very well bring the conversation back to her, could she?

"Treason is a big word to throw around," she said. "What have you got that makes you think Esper Rosenflos of all people is guilty of it?"

COMMAND ESR tapped a few more keys and a picture of a familiar bull faunus in a Grimm mask dominated her hologram. "I assume you recognize this man?"

"Adam Taurus," Weiss growled disdainfully. "What's the Blood-Soaked Bull got to do with this?"

"Recent reports indicate he's been sent to Atlas by Sienna Khan," Eleanor revealed. "With the dust embargo ongoing, security at the borders has been increased, possibly as a leadup measure to closing them entirely. And yet somehow, this bastard was able to sneak into the kingdom undetected with, according to our spies within the White Fang, codes provided by someone in the Chairwoman's office."

"You have spies in the White Fang?" Weiss blurted out, quite shocked.

Eleanor scowled. "Despite the stupidity of your father and his fellows, not every faunus is a terrorist out for human blood. Most of them are honest patriots, with more than a few willing to serve their kingdom on the inside of Sienna Khan's fanatical horde."

"I didn't mean any offense," Weiss quickly clarified, surprised at the vehemence with which the older woman defended her operatives. "I just… never heard it."

"They're spies. If you'd heard of them, they wouldn't be doing their jobs."

"Fair enough," Weiss responded, turning to COMMAND ESR. "So, what makes you think Rosenflos is behind this? Just because it came from her office doesn't mean it was her. What could she possibly have to gain from letting the most infamous terrorist on Remnant into the kingdom?"

"Confidence," the masked woman declared. "Rosenflos is a staunch internationalist. She may be enormously popular, but her cause isn't. Atlesians, both upper and lower class, have a history of taking immense pride in their kingdom, bordering on arrogance at times. After the Fall of Beacon and the expulsion of Ironwood's forces from Vale, this pride has been wounded, in ways a simple speech won't salve."

"So I've seen," Weiss noted, recalling the woman who'd taken to mocking Vale at the gala. "The other kingdoms blame Atlas thanks to knights going haywire and Atlas blames the other kingdoms for pointing a finger at them."

"Falling back on thinking of themselves as perfect and invincible as a defense mechanism," Gray finished with a scowl. "Still doesn't explain how getting this bull guy into the kingdom helps her."

"It shatters the illusion, or at least it will," Drizzella explained. "The Chairwoman was a mentor to my team when I attended Atlas Academy, and I know how she thinks. If she can engineer a large enough terrorist attack inside the capital, it will be proof that what happened to Vale can happen to any kingdom, even the greatest nation on Remnant. The public's only recourse for safety would be to put aside their grudges against the rest of the world and work together to defeat their common foes."

"And attract who knows how many Grimm to the city before they reestablish order!" Weiss protested. "Thousands would die!"

"They would," COMMAND ESR concurred. "And yet, if it might save millions down the line by ensuring the cooperation of the four kingdoms, is not a few thousand lives a small price to pay?"

"For a madwoman," Gray snarled.

"You can't seriously think anyone would try something so insane?" Weiss protested. There was no way Winter would look up to someone capable of such horror.

Drizzella shrugged. "Above all, Esper Rosenflos is a woman of conviction. If she believes that an action will allow her to save as many people as possible, she will do it. What that action is doesn't matter, whether it's mass murder, treason, or even suicide, she will do what she thinks is right."

"And that makes her one of the most dangerous people in the world," COMMAND ESR proclaimed. "But in the end, this is all conjecture. I have my own issues with Esper."

"Yeah, that she's a bleeding-heart Vale girl who doesn't understand which kingdom she's supposed to protect and serve," Eleanor spat.

COMMAND ESR sighed. "Suffice to say, none of us have perfect judgment in this matter. And though discovering the extent of the Chairwoman's involvement is critical, our first priority must be stopping Adam Taurus before he attempts an encore of his work at Beacon."

"On that, we are agreed," Weiss nodded. "Though I'll admit, I'm a little curious why you came to me. I may be a wizard, but Weiss Schnee is hardly a face suited for espionage."

"There are many types of espionage," Eleanor said. "Operating in the shadows to acquire information and operating in the light to make people believe that information."

"We will need someone highly visible to take the credit for stopping Taurus. Someone who isn't the Council Chairwoman," COMMAND ESR pointed out. "Do you believe Weiss Schnee will be suited to that?"

Weiss' mind immediately imagined the idea. Her standing triumphantly over Adam as he was taken away by the police, never to harm another innocent person. Her and Gray standing side by side, fully clothed, as reporters and news channels interviewed them, the sun sparkling off their bodies as crowds of people adoringly chanted their names. And most important of all, her father, in the face of that adoration, unable to scratch her name out from his will, her role as heir, and ability to restore her family's honor, secure at last.

A gleeful smile spread over her face. She had to admit, it painted a lovely picture.

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Overall, Whitley was quite pleased with how things were going. True, Weiss maintained her composure at the party far better than he'd expected, but just because she retained her position as heir for the moment did not mean his ambitions had been crushed. After all, while he was striding through the council building, escorted to the chairwoman's office, she was off having some secret rendezvous with that boy she'd met at the gala. Of the two of them, he had to say his current situation was far more suited to a Schnee.

Honestly, it was almost a shame about her imminent fall from grace. Once upon a time, she had been his greatest protector, shielding him from mother's drunken outbursts and father's brutish rages. While Winter might have abandoned them to their parents' non-existent mercies to run off to the military, Weiss had allowed him to grow up with some semblance of a childhood. At least until she'd left as well, leaving him a convenient target for both sides of their parents' spats.

Whitley had never been the prodigy his sisters had been. He studied hard, and worked harder, but his academics never seemed to match up to their heights. And the less said about his combat skills, the better. He couldn't flee like they had. He was trapped in the mansion, trapped alone with his parents and destined to suffer their wrath.

But a Schnee did not lay down and suffer. A Schnee adapted. A Schnee, survived.

So, when father raged, he raged. When he howled at the economic repercussions of Ironwood's asinine choices, Whitley concurred with his fury. When father expressed his worry at Weiss' lack of response to his calls while she was at Beacon, Whitley had confessed his own concerns that his dear sister was outside the protective reach of the SDC, and that she might find herself corrupted by the overly romantic ideals of Vale. And of course, made subtle mention that he had no plans to abandon the family stronghold in Atlas for any of the inferior kingdoms.

Before long, his eager obedience bore fruit. His father's rages did not stop, but Whitley was called upon to join them instead of being their target. Being called into the office was no longer an occasion to dread, but the sign of a useful lesson on how to navigate the treacherous terrain of Atlas' political and economic landscape. Once or twice, he thought he even saw a genuine smile on his father's face.

His sisters had fled the challenge, but he had stood his ground, fought, thrived! And if his father's endorsement for the chairwoman's internship was anything to go by, he was well on his way to conquering. Even on the off chance that Weiss impressed father or didn't provide him with an adequate excuse to disinherit her, working Esper Rosenflos would insure he had a foot in the door of Atlas' power players. One way or another, he would claim the ownership of the Schnee name he had earned and bring it to new heights of glory!

He and the Atlesian Knight escorting him at last came to the door at the end of the pristine white hall, a golden nameplate across the front designating it as their destination.

"Mr. Whitley Schnee, for the Council Chairwoman," the Knight announced in a synthesized voice.

"The door's unlocked!" Esper Rosenflos called from within. "Send him in!"

The robot proceeded to do so, opening the entrance wide.

Whitley took a deep calming breath. This was it. He was about to begin his working relationship with one of the few people in Atlas on par with his father. A woman capable of entrancing enormous popularity from the filthy masses as well as commanding respect from his own class. Only his best would suffice here, only his best would get her on his side. Only his best would secure his survival.

No one would shield him. No one would protect him. He had to make his own way.

He faced front, his eyes like ice and his smile set in his best attempt at charming. Knowing he could delay no longer, he stepped into the room.

"Madam Chairwoman, it is an honor to have been selected for this… cookie?"

Okay hardly his finest work, he could admit. But in his defense, when he stepped into the legendary Pearl Office, headquarters for every Atlas Council Chairperson since the government was moved from Mantle, a grand station that overlooked the floating city, he did not expect to find one of the most respected women in the kingdom lounging back in her desk chair eating a chocolate chip cookie.

"Mmmm…" Esper hummed euphorically, her eyes shut as she chewed. "Hello, Whitley. Please have a seat."

The off-balance boy slowly nodded, his robotic escort leaving the room and closing the door behind him. When he took his seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, he attempted to wait patiently for the chairwoman to finish. He found himself waiting for a full minute with no sign she even planned to acknowledge him, finally prompting him to clear his throat.

Esper swallowed what remained of the cookie and smiled at him. She reached over her desk and cracked open a tin, revealing dozens more within. "I'm sorry. Do you want one? I made them myself."

Whitley wasn't sure if this was an intentional trick to confound him or merely her being patronizing, but he decided that it would be best to err on the side of caution. Especially if it was some kind of insult. He was not a child.

"No thank you, mam," he replied. "I just ate."

Esper piqued an eyebrow. "It's a cookie. You don't eat it to fill you up. You eat because it's delicious. Go on, try one."

Whitley's nose crinkled, attempting to suppress his annoyance. Normally if someone talked back to them, he'd give them the cold shoulder, if not shout their head off like father did to those who disappointed him. But this was not someone he could do that with, and with her second offer, this really wasn't a battle worth fighting. She said she made them herself, so perhaps she'd take a refusal as an insult, and he couldn't have that so soon.

He tentatively reached out and plucked one of the smaller cookies from the tin. He hesitated for a moment before she nodded eagerly, and he took a bite. A surge sweet flavor, second only to Klein's crepes, washed over his taste buds, his eyes shooting upwards.

"It's… delicious," he proclaimed, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "You made these yourself?"

"Everyone needs a hobby, especially people who deal with what we do," Esper noted. "Baking is a healthier alternative to… other options."

Whitley frowned, his mother's 'hobby' clear in his mind. "That it is."

Esper sighed, though her smile did not leave her face. "Besides, my mother was the one who taught me to bake, and I taught each of my daughters what I could. Even if I can't do it with them, at least this way I can remember why I do what I do."

"I take it your family is… no longer with us?" Whitley inquired tentatively. He couldn't recall any articles about the chairwoman's family, and what little he had researched into had revealed no marriage. If she had any of these children, they were either bastard progeny or the products of a secret marriage, both of which carried the potential to be useful as future leverage.

"My parents were killed by Grimm when I was a little girl. I became a huntress and later a Specialist, to try to make sure no one else ever had to suffer the same fate," Esper explained. "As for my children, well, I'm on good terms with my oldest, but the others… well, someday I hope that they'll understand that everything I do is to create a world where children can be children."

"And you don't think they'll understand that now?" Whitley asked. "You are running the greatest kingdom on Remnant."

"Sometimes that's not a good enough reason for children."

"Perhaps children are capable of more than you give them credit for."

Esper chuckled. "Point taken, Whitley. No need to get defensive."

"I am not getting defensive," Whitley insisted. "I am not a child."

"How old are you?"

"… fifteen. Sixteen in a few months."

"Then you are a child," Esper noted, a victorious smirk on her face, though it faded a moment later. "Though, I can imagine you didn't have much of a childhood living under your father's roof."

Whitley's eyes narrowed. "My father is a great man."

The Chairwoman nodded. "Great? Yes. But great does not always mean good. As I have no doubt you know, my friend."

The young boy's hands curled into fists, working incredibly hard to keep his temper under wraps. "With all due respect, madam chairwoman, I did not come here to be insulted. I am fully aware that you would have preferred my sister stood here in place, but I have no intentions of resigning just because of some poor words against my father."

"Good."

"What?"

Esper rose to her feet, her countenance finally shedding the pleasant, motherly façade she'd been putting on, in its place the serious, straight-forward veteran. "I'm not going to lie to you, Whitley. You're a smart boy, and I respect that. I did hope for Weiss to be the one in this office with me right now. Perhaps it was nostalgia for my time training Winter at the academy, perhaps it was empathy for young huntress trying to create her own legacy. But the fact is, she is not. You are. And my days of ignoring the facts of the world are long behind me."

She turned away and stalked towards the window that formed the back wall, waving a hand to summon him to her side. He quickly made the journey and the both of them stood side by side, gazing out at the mangled city of metal and snow below.

"Whitley, what do you want?"

The white-haired boy blinked. The question was quite simple… and yet…

"I suppose I want to make my father proud of me—"

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why do you want him to be proud of you? Do you not think he is already proud of you? Do you not think he loves you?"

"Of course he doesn't love me," Whitley spat. He didn't think he could pull a lie about that off against someone who knew his father so well. "But neither does my mother, or my sisters. I have always been alone in this life. At least if I can make my father proud of me, I can get him to make me his heir, and ensure that I have the power I need to flourish."

"And in turn, deny that power to your sister," Esper pointed out.

Whitley shrugged. "She denies it to me simply by refusing to give up the company despite her obvious preference for huntress work over business. Like I said, I have always been alone."

"And you think power will ease that pain?"

"Who said anything about pain?" he quickly cut in, fidgeting his fingers behind his back. "You said yourself, ignoring the facts of the world helps no one."

"No, it does not," Esper confirmed. "But here is another you should consider. Power is not happiness. It is responsibility."

Whitley raised an eyebrow. "And what does that mean?"

Esper smiled at him, warmth, actual genuine warmth radiating out from her grin. In his mind, Whitley knew it must be a ploy. She'd known him for ten minutes. she couldn't possibly legitimately care about him!

And yet, with that smile, those gentle golden eyes… it was… comforting. In a way, that told him there was no challenge he needed to rise to, no test he needed to pass, no rage he needed to match. That he… that he was enough. It was a new feeling, safety in another's presence.

"It means we better get to work," Esper told him, patting him on the shoulder and whirling around back to her desk. "We have a kingdom to run, an embargo to end, and cookies to eat!"

For a moment, Whitley just stood there, dumbfounded. He turned to continue the conversation, but the Council Chairwoman was already in her chair, highly sensitive state documents in one hand and a chocolate chip cookie in the other, humming a pleasant tune without a care in the world.

At that image… he found there was nothing he could do but close his mouth, walk over, and do whatever he could to help. After all, that was his job now. And a Schnee did their job and all that was asked of them. That was their way, their legacy. And he wanted that to be his.

…

Didn't he?

Ah, lots of fun character moments in this chapter. Though, the next one will be catching up with Ruby and Wendy, of that, you can be sure.

An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, StabKingPro, Annaya Chan, Nora Okonus, Paula mandel, KefkaesqueXIII, and Christian Howard.

Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!

Go Forth and Conquer!