(Author's note: I'll be using adiac's V2 map of Beacon as a reference from here on out. I'll be linking it in the description.)

Corporal Logan Asher

2nd Reconnaissance Bn, Bravo Company, Alpha Platoon, Fireteam 2-1

Fallujah, Iraq, 2004

"What do you wanna do, Ash?" Crosby asked. The four-man fireteam had spent hours trying to dislodge the insurgents from their fortified position in the house. "I want to get off this fuckin' roof. I don't want to run across that fucking window anymore." He shook his head. Not even twenty and they put me in charge of a fireteam, fuck me. "Dave, we're fucked if we stay up here, and trying to double back across the rooftops leaves us exposed to that asshole with the Mosin down the street."

"So you agree that punching down through and linking back up with 1-1 is our best option?"

"Unless we want to wait for that fuckin' sniper to be dealt with while hoping the guys downstairs don't come up and try to kill us, yeah." Lance Corporal David Crosby nodded, "Let's do it." The two of them had deployed together twice, once to Afghanistan in 2002, and during the initial invasion of Iraq in 2003. Asher turned to the other two Marines. Both of them were "boots", new Privates with no prior combat deployments. MY Marines, my responsibility. "Only four of us, we can't afford to rush at 'em. Yoon, I want you behind me, I'll put some rounds through the door of that first room on the right, bust it open, then you frag it. On me." He began leading his team down the stairs from the roof, setting a cautious pace. Fighting room to room was a cruel, violent game of angles, a game that often punished mistakes with a swift demise. Don't run to your death. It was only after he had arrived at the first landing that he noticed the murder-hole knocked in one of the near walls. He'd only just started applying pressure to his trigger when the wall exploded with gunfire.

Asher

Airship enroute to Vale, 0509 local time

The nightmare jolted him awake. Fallujah again. Crosby. This time had been particularly vivid, and he had to look down at himself and his surroundings to make sure it hadn't been real. Sure enough, he was not wearing dusty, blood-spattered Marine-issued desert camo, but the plaid shirt and jeans borrowed from Taiyang. He took a series of 4-count breaths to slow his heart rate back down and got up to stretch before checking his watch. Thank God this place operates on a 24-hour day or else I'd be fucked. They would be landing in about an hour. Got some time to kill. He pulled out his earbuds and opened the meditation app on his phone. He hit "play" on a session he'd previously downloaded, sat on the floor, and crossed his legs. This had been his post-nightmare ritual for almost two years now, and he had a former teammate to thank for it. Sergeant First Class Eduardo Calderon had spent 7 years in Delta before being medically retired after an IED blast. After recovering at Walter Reed, he dedicated himself to the fight on the homefront, going back to school and getting licensed as a clinical therapist. He'd reunited with Asher when he'd given a lecture on post-traumatic coping skills at Fort Bragg. Boy, Ed's gonna have a field day with this shit if I ever see him again. He looked at the girls, both still fast asleep in their seats. He wondered at how proud Taiyang must be of them, what they'd achieved, the sort of people they'd grown into. He stopped himself, forcing his mind somewhere else before it went to a place he'd promised himself he'd never go again. He forced himself not to wonder if that pain would ever go away. He went back to his meditation, went back to that calm little space he'd carved out for himself in his mind. He was able to picture it in detail by now. Sunrise in Flathead Valley, looking east towards the Rockies. A little cabin…he opened his eyes.

He'd been sitting there for almost half an hour. One of the airship's massive windows now faced slightly to the East, giving him and the few other awake passengers a glimpse at the first few rays of sunlight just breaking over the horizon. He surveyed the terrain below them, noting the heavily developed urban areas directly underneath, contrasted by the undeveloped, hilly forest surrounding it. No suburbs, just pure, fortified urban sprawl with a cleared buffer zone, then nothing but forest for miles around. He went over the plans in his head. The three of them would land in Vale and check into their hotel. Asher would meet Ozpin later in the morning at an address nearby, and the girls would leave for Beacon Academy the next morning. A voice came over the airship's PA system: "Attention passengers, we are beginning our descent, and will be landing at Vale Inter-Kingdom airport in approximately 20 minutes." Asher stowed his headphones in the backpack he'd separated from his kit and slipped his phone into his back pocket before moving to make sure the girls were awake. First we check into the Sheraton in the Land of Make-Believe, then it's off to meet the wizard. Today's gonna be great.

Ozpin

Canomaso's, City of Vale, 0704 local time

Save for the two of them, the diner was mostly empty. Indeed, it was usually closed on Sundays, but Glynda had made an arrangement with the owner. She could be very…persuasive. He looked at her as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat next to him. She returned his gaze, "He's late." Ozpin offered a knowing smile, "He's a stranger in a strange land, Glynda. I think we can give him a bit of leeway as far as punctuality goes." Glynda scoffed, "So he says!" He raised an eyebrow, "You don't believe Taiyang? He seemed fairly convinced in his correspondence." He opened his scroll and re-read the email he'd received from Taiyang the night before. Brief and to the point as it was, it had nevertheless piqued the Beacon headmaster's interest. When Glynda had tried to dismiss the idea, he'd pointed out that such a thing was not without precedent, if certain historical accounts he had come across were to be believed. He'd initially archived the stories as apocryphal, but after pouring over them again in light of this most recent development, their veracity stood in considerably less doubt, though some shadow of it still remained. Even with all he'd experienced in his years, this was something new, and he began feeling something he hadn't felt in quite some time: excitement. This stranger's arrival stood to answer questions posed by many, himself included. The existence of other planets, other parallel universes? He then wondered who might be allowed to ask those questions. Knowledge of the stranger's presence here would have to be tightly compartmentalized, he knew. James and Atlas's science division will certainly want a crack at him, assuming he's the genuine article. I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Given his background, he trusted that the stranger wouldn't draw unnecessary attention to himself. As if on cue, the diner's arrival bell rang as the front door swung open, and a man matching Taiyang's description stepped inside. Ozpin hadn't seen him approach. He must have looked through the large windows on their side of the diner, seen the two of them alone, and then walked around the block to approach from the other direction unseen. Real tradecraft. A professional, indeed. The man was tall, wearing a long-sleeved plaid shirt that was almost a size too small. He made eye contact with Ozpin and nodded, approaching the corner booth where they were seated. "Sorry I'm late, Professor. Check-in at the hotel took a bit longer than expected." Ozpin waved dismissively, "No need to apologize, Mr. Asher. As I understand it, you're…not from around here." The man laughed, "I suppose that's one way of putting it, sir."

Asher

Canomaso's, 0751 local time

Telling his story was considerably easier the second time, especially with much of the background information having been provided by Taiyang. They'd exchanged pleasantries and conversed over breakfast, but the tension was still palpable. Particularly unhelpful to the overall mood were the disapproving looks being cast his way by Beacon's headmistress, whom Ozpin had introduced as "Glynda Goodwitch." Ozpin? Goodwitch? Fucking really? He had to give himself a bit of credit for receiving the information with a straight face. She probably thinks I'm spinning some bullshit, trying to con her boss. Can't hold that against her. He pretended not to notice. His suspicion was confirmed mere seconds later when Goodwitch interjected during a pause in the conversation. "Mr. Asher, I hate to sound like I'm accusing you of anything untoward, but do you have any…proof that you're actually who you say you are?" He'd anticipated this and brought along several items which he thought would be particularly convincing. While Taiyang had been easy enough to convince, he knew that he would need some type of proof eventually. He started off with the American flag patch taken off his kit, passing it across the table. "Interesting," Ozpin started, "this doesn't match any kingdom, academy, village crest, or personal coat of arms I've ever come across, and I'd wager that I'm familiar with just about all of them." Goodwitch wasn't convinced. "That's hardly-" He wasn't finished. Rummaging through his backpack, he produced two more items. Everything else I have could be explained away. Older iterations of technology they already have. According to what Taiyang had told him, there was only one thing he had which couldn't be so easily dismissed. He took out his Leatherman multitool and a single 5.56mm cartridge from one of his magazines. He held up a hand before Goodwitch could say anything, and pulled out the bullet from the cartridge with the multitool's pliers. Grabbing a napkin from the table's dispenser, he poured the contents of the brass cartridge case onto it. "Now, Taiyang showed me what your 'Dust' looks like, explained how you use it in your ammunition. From what I understand, gunpowder hasn't been used in over a thousand years, give or take. Certainly not after the advent of metallic cartridges, if his youngest daughter has it right. And let me tell you, that kid knows her weapons."

He took a pinch of the tiny cylindrical granules and dumped them onto a spoon, before producing a lighter from his pocket. The two across from him exchanged an alarmed look. "Don't worry, this stuff is actually a lot less reactive than the Combustion Dust you're used to." To articulate his point, he touched the lighter flame to the gunpowder. The result was as underwhelming as he'd predicted. A small hiss, and the little pile of cordite in a smokeless flame not much larger than a candle. Ozpin and Goodwitch seemed to visibly relax. He put the spoon and the lighter down on the table. "I'm guessing that Dust would have had a more…violent reaction?" Ozpin chuckled, "Considerably so." He exchanged a look with Goodwitch, "Yes, Mr. Asher, I believe you have us convinced. Now, with that out of the way, there is a matter I'd like to discuss which…may come as a bit of a surprise to you." He leaned in closer, "You're clearly an intelligent and well-spoken individual, and you ostensibly possess a skillset that may be of particular use to us." Asher raised an eyebrow, "'Us?'" Ozpin offered a half-smile, "I suppose there's no sense in beating around the bush. How would you like to come teach at Beacon Academy?" Asher and Goodwitch started to speak at the same time, and Ozpin raised a hand to silence them both, "I understand you both have reservations about such an arrangement. Glynda, I'll allow you to make your case later. As for you, Mr. Asher, I'm well aware that you are trying to make your way back to where you came from. I still intend to help you do this to the best of my abilities. Beacon Academy has one of the most extensive libraries in all of Remnant, and I'm sure Ms. Goodwitch would be happy to help you research in your spare time, of which you may have as much as you like. I'll allow you to develop a course curriculum of your choosing, and I will also take that time to properly vet any of the skills that you would be teaching. Now, I understand that, if all goes well, your time with us would be short," He pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and leaned in closer, "but I truly loathe to see talent go to waste."

Ozpin

Beacon Academy Admissions and Employment Office, City of Vale, 0857 local time

"You know he's going to agree." Ozpin looked up from his scroll to see Glynda standing in the doorway to his office. "I thought you were preparing his onboarding paperwork."

"Which you only instructed me to do because you knew he would say 'yes.' I have it all right here." She stepped towards his desk and handed him a sheaf of documents. "And the confidentiality agreements we'll need all the students and staff to sign?" She tapped at her scroll, "Just sent you the first draft. You didn't answer my question." His eyes went back to his scroll as his inbox chimed an alert. "That sounded more like a statement, not a question." She glared at him, "Don't deflect. We both know how to read people, and I could see in his eyes that you were pressing all the right buttons. You still haven't properly explained why you want him around instead of just sending him off to Atlas for Ironwood and his scientists to poke and prod to their heart's content. And speaking of James, what exactly are we going to tell him?" Ozpin sighed, the gravity of the situation having become far more apparent over the last hour, "We give him the full version of events as we understand them, boring details and all. I'll have Asher compile everything he knows about where he came from and how he got here, and put together a comprehensive report that we can give to James, as well as any others who need to be read in." Glynda started, "Well, who else needs to be read in? And moreover, who decides what constitutes needing to be read in?" Ozpin had to bite his tongue, "We'll determine that as we gather more information," he said, with slightly more acid in his tone than he'd intended. His scroll chimed again, indicating a message from a contact that he hadn't expected to hear from quite so soon. He'd handed Asher the prepaid scroll with his and Glynda's contact information programmed into it just before the man had left to consider Ozpin's employment offer. He smiled when he saw what the message read. He called after his headmistress as she turned to leave his office, "Glynda?" She stopped in her tracks and turned, "Once his onboarding is finished, take him out shopping and…get him some clothes that actually fit. I'll reimburse you. In the meantime, I'll start making arrangements for his identification documents, as well as setting up his bank accounts. The City's Interior Ministry owes me a few favors."

Glynda

City of Vale downtown, 1121 local time

She went over the last two hours in her head as she guided the rental car into an open parking space on the street. The process of onboarding Asher had been relatively uneventful, except for the fact that all of his identifying documents, everything from his driver's license to his birth certificate, were a complete forgery. But for that fact, it had been just like any other. Direct deposit had been set up, and he'd been given a housing assignment placing him in the "A" block of the staff apartments. The justification of course had been the block was closer to the library, where he would be spending most of his spare time. Of course he has to live in the same building as me. Ozpin had even had the gall to put him on the same floor as her. She briefly wondered why she was reacting to this arrangement with as much annoyance as she was. Then, an infuriating notion came to her. Is Ozpin trying to play matchmaker again? Surely he remembers the earful I gave him last time? She remembered Qrow's brief tenure at Beacon, and how Ozpin always seemed to find excuses for the two of them to spend time together. It hadn't taken, nor had she reacted well when she'd pieced it together. She dismissed the notion, No, he respects you too much to try interfering in your personal life again. "You okay?" a voice from the passenger seat asked. It was only then that she realized they'd been sitting there for almost a full minute. "Yes, just…thinking some things over." He paused a moment, nodded, and hoisted himself out of the compact sedan.

He had wisely decided not to engage her in any drawn-out conversation, and this had been the first time he'd spoken since they got in the car. He'd gotten the bulk of his questions answered by Ozpin, and had seemed satisfied with the information he'd received. She got out of the car and sighed. She knew she was being unnecessarily harsh. Asher hadn't asked to be here, and he had been far more polite and genial than anyone in his position had any right to be. "Excuse me." He turned and looked at her as they walked towards the department store where he would pick out his new wardrobe. "I think we ought to address the elephant in the room. We clearly got off on the wrong foot, Mr. Asher. I haven't exactly been as polite as I should've been." He shook his head, "I appreciate you saying that, but it's really not necessary. I can't hold your reservations against you. I'm a complete stranger peddling some wild story that I was somehow transported here from a parallel universe. You've got every right to be suspicious of me. Also, most people just call me Ash." She gave a half-smile, "Well, 'Ash,' that party trick with the spoon has me convinced one of two ways: you're either completely mad, or you're telling the truth." He flashed a toothy grin, "I can't be both?" That got a laugh out of her. With it came a twinge of something she hadn't felt in quite a while. He's not…bad looking. He was clean shaven, and his collar-length hair was at least somewhat kempt. He was far from the scruffy, cigar-chewing commando stereotype that the entertainment industry often portrayed. She shook it off. He's supposed to be a colleague, that's just…unbecoming. Besides, he's not supposed to be here long anyway. "Come on, let's get you looking more…scholarly."

Asher

City of Vale downtown, 1211 local time

They had come admirably close to achieving "scholarly." A blazer, an assortment of shirts, a few pairs of jeans and slacks, and a pair of brown leather ankle boots rounded out his new wardrobe. He walked out of the store wearing some of his new threads, "Ah, that's better. There's definitely a case to be made for wearing clothes that actually fit you." Wearing a shirt small enough that he had to wear it unbuttoned with a t-shirt was not a look he had enjoyed. "Really?" Glynda raised an eyebrow, "I thought 'metrosexual lumberjack' was totally your style." That got a good laugh out of him. There was a more practical side to his relief, however: properly sized jeans with a modicum of stretch made it far more comfortable to conceal his Glock 19 along with a spare magazine. "Let your plans be as dark and impenetrable as the night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt." He was a bit surprised that he still remembered his Sun Tzu. Glynda had earlier noticed that he was armed, but hadn't so much as brought it up. Not as much of a societal taboo on weapons. Guess it comes with the territory. "Know any good places for lunch around here?" She considered, "Niño's says they have the best pizza in town, but I really need to oversee getting this stuff couriered to your apartment," she gestured to the several bagfuls of clothing in the trunk of the rented sedan. "Right," he said, ignoring the obviously Spanish-named pizza joint, "I probably ought to let the two creatures out of their hotel room, assuming they haven't burned it down already. It's close enough that I can walk." She walked up to him and pressed a wad of laminated notes into his hand, "Some spending money, so you can take them shopping. I'm sure they're both excited to start orientation tomorrow." With that, they parted ways, and Asher made his way back to the hotel. Upon returning to the room, he was bombarded by a stream of words that he could scarcely discern: "Ohmygoshhowdiditgotelluseverything!" He threw up his hands in exasperation, "Uh…what?" Yang interpreted, "Oh my gosh, how did it go, tell us everything." He nodded, "It went well, Ozpin agreed to help me find my way back home, gave me this scroll," he held up the tiny, folded up holographic mobile device that would have made the latest iPhone blush, "...and he offered me a teaching position at Beacon." Both of the girls fully tore their attention away from the movie playing on the holographic TV screen. Ruby practically squealed with delight, "This is SOOOO cool! You get to teach us all of your secret special ops…stuff!" He chuckled, "Well, I don't know exactly what I'll be teaching, but I've got a few ideas. Anyway, how about we get out of here and get some pizza?"

The next several hours seemed almost…normal. The three of them ate lunch, perused a few stores, and saw what sights were there to be seen, all the while the girls answered any additional "tourist" questions that Asher had. Later in the afternoon, Yang announced that she would be getting dinner with some old friends from her days at Signal academy. Seeing Yang off, he turned to Ruby, "Guess it's just you and me, kiddo. Where to next?" Given his present company, he should have guessed that "next" would be a store that sold weapons of some description. "Parabellum" seemed like a high-class establishment, with the proprietor describing his wares like a sommelier describing fine wines. As much as he loved guns, he found the whole thing somewhat…off-putting, especially given the increasingly outlandish nature of the weapons that the man was trying to sell. A lever-action rifle with a naginata blade on the end, a skateboard with a sharpened edge (which was also a gun), and a hairdryer that doubled as a flamethrower. With the last one, he was right back to being a fish out of water. Where the FUCK do people come up with these damn things? After Asher had successfully fended off the salesman's advances, it was off to the next destination, a rarities store called "From Dust Till Dawn." He read the sign as they approached, "Dust, Crystals, Books." He kept in mind what he'd learned about Dust. Cheap and plentiful in its raw state, it was highly valued in its heavily refined, crystalline form. He recalled seeing news clippings about border disputes and armed skirmishes between companies over mining rights for the stuff. Valuable items here, it's later in the evening, heavily built up urban area, robbery isn't out of the question. He eyed the frail, half-blind old man at the counter. Soft target. As he casually browsed the store's wares, his ears perked at hearing the entrance bell chime. He could barely make out the murmur of conversation, when he heard a soft, metallic click accompanied by high-pitched whirring sound. He couldn't place it, but it didn't sound normal. He instantly became all the more conscious of the mass of the pistol concealed in the appendix rig under his shirt. Find Ruby. He started moving through the aisles of the small shop, trying to count the number of assailants he could potentially be dealing with, when he heard a raised voice. "Hey! I said hands in the air! You got a death wish or something!?" Asher saw the body fly past and crash into the window display as he rounded the corner. His cover garment was already cleared and the Glock was being pulled from its holster as he scanned for threats. His eye caught the nearest robber raising a gun to fire in the direction he'd last seen Ruby. His hands slid together across his chest, bringing the pistol up in a firing grip. The red dot of the SRO reflex sight settled on the thug's temple. Three visible, plus the one knocked out, they haven't noticed you yet, take as many of them as you can. The dot barely moved as he took up the slack on the Glock's three and-a-half pound custom trigger. All this he did without conscious thought. Sight picture, trigger squeeze. The first two rounds of the engagement broke cleanly. The effects of hollow points impacting barely half an inch apart on a human skull were devastating. The right side of the thug's head evaporated in a spray of blood and brain matter, and he crumpled to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. The store immediately erupted into chaos. The two remaining thugs immediately opened fire in his direction as he punched left, taking temporary cover behind one of the bookcases. It was only when something whizzed viciously past his ear and punched a fist-sized hole in the bookshelf next to his head that his eyes moved back to the entrance. He was on autopilot now, fully immersed in the slipstream of combat. In one fluid motion, he pivoted to his right and collapsed to a knee, sending four rounds at the white-clad figure moving away from the counter. He noticed that the old man was huddling on the floor, clutching at his left arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a red blur moving towards the remaining threats. Ruby? What he saw next left him awestruck, he could scarcely believe what he was watching as he moved to cover the old man. Having Aura and Semblances described to him was one thing. Seeing them in action was quite another. He could discern spins, flourishes, and other moves defying the laws of physics as he understood them as the fight moved out into the street. Ruby had dispatched the remaining two thugs in a matter of seconds, and Asher tried in vain to get a solid sight picture on the man in white. The two combatants were simply moving too fast. He started to move to close the distance, before he noticed the old store clerk turning sheet white immediately behind him. Shit. The bright red blood spurting out of his left arm gave away the arterial bleed that would end his life within minutes. Producing a SOF-T tourniquet from his left front pocket, he looped the instrument around the man's arm, moved it up as high as it would go, and yanked it tight in one fluid, practiced motion. High and tight'll do this guy right. As he indexed his pistol against his chest in a position known as "sul", he looked out the entrance door to see the man in white clambering up a ladder to a nearby rooftop. He turned his attention back to his patient, tightening the tourniquet's windlass to staunch the flow of blood. Ruby called back to him, "Should I go after him?" He rose to his feet and ran out into the street, scanning for more threats. "We should-" She'd taken his movement as tacit approval, and without any further words she proceeded to dematerialize into a mass of rose petals and fly up towards the rooftop where their quarry had fled. You HAVE to stop letting this shit surprise you. He holstered his handgun and sprinted towards the ladder, going up rung after rung, as fast as his arthritic knees could propel his 240-pound frame. Not as easy as when I was in my 20s. He knew from his prior experience that he was likely to miss whatever happened next. By the time he ascended the roof, he had heard the ignition sequence of a pair of jet engines, one highly localized weather system, and fourteen distinct explosions. He was breathing heavily when he finally got to the roof deck. He almost had to do a double take when he saw who was standing next to Ruby on the rooftop. "Glynda?" She turned sharply, "You'd better have a good explanation as to what the hell is going on here, Asher."