Holy crap guys, I cannot apologise enough for the ridiculous delays I have put this story through. I really ought to stop making promises, shouldn't I? I'll try and update you guys as often as possible, I'm so so sorry for this.

Chapter 18: History

Ulysses had never deemed himself as much of a sociable man; he had never been the extrovert that he found in most people, often preferring to keep his words to himself and speak only when necessary. Of course, there were a select few who would deem him an incredibly charismatic speaker – and by the books, he technically was an extremely charismatic figure – and place him as a wise and intelligent speaker as well, but to Ulysses he was nothing more than a man blinded by vengeance and rage. He was thankful that the Courier had a likeable way with words; thankful that he was still alive to experience this journey.

Ulysses had always found great pleasure, entertainment and fascination in reading through the literature formulated by Old World minds – enticing oneself in history and knowledge was the surest path to life and survival; to learn from another's mistakes so that you may not repeat them. What is failure if not a successful lesson? Why else would such mistakes exist if humanity was destined to repeat them countlessly and not learn?

The history books of Remnant were certainly alluring – the simple thought of historical text seemed to be an immediate attraction to Ulysses, always eager for more knowledge, always eager to learn. The library of Beacon Academy offered such texts with little effort required in retrieving them. Such luxuries he had never experienced before; Old World texts were almost non-existent in the Wastes.

Ulysses, since arriving with his two companions in 'Remnant', was immediately eager to learn when he discovered the advancement of civilisation and how perfectly intact the world seemed to be just beyond the savage wastelands. Books were a perfectly adequate source, but Ulysses had discovered over the years that there was no better source of history than a survivor of it.

He was described by Doctor Klein – a Think Tank at Big MT – as a melancholy fellow who asked a lot about history. Truly he was a melancholic person, though Ulysses mostly neglected such irrelevant personality traits and instead directed his focus on reshaping the post-apocalyptic world single-handedly.

He had let Courier Six carry the package, expecting the Mojave to kill the Courier without his intervention. After hearing the Courier's words as they stood face-to-face in the Divide, the Courier had earned Ulysses' respect.

Now, the Courier had taken to discovering the new world by himself. Perhaps he would die here; maybe this world would do what the Mojave could not.

Either way, the Courier's sudden departure was nothing that neither worried nor bothered Ulysses in the slightest. True, the Courier was a man that had gained Ulysses' respect, but Courier Six had often displayed… odd behaviours. He was a smart man nonetheless and would undoubtedly be able to survive on his own, as he had been doing the majority of his years. If he decided to act offensively against Ulysses, he would simply be deemed an enemy; an obstacle to overcome.

Perhaps if Ulysses had little else to do then the Courier's exodus from the group would be a little more of a bother, but as of the current moment Ulysses was transfixed on Remnant's history. The books had offered all their knowledge – Ulysses had gone through basically all of the relevant sections since his arrival – and they could offer no more useful information. For the next step, Ulysses wanted to find the most reliable source of history promised to be around in such a world: people.

The life expectancy, Ulysses guessed, would probably be rather high for a technologically advanced society such as Remnant's, thought here was always the wild card that the Grimm posed to be. During his readings, Ulysses had discovered just how prominent the struggle between humanity and the Grimm actually was. From inside the walls it looked casual and happy, but the books told tales of deadly lands beyond the walls. What Ulysses wanted now was a survivor: somebody who had witnessed the horrors this land had to bear.

If what he found left him unsatisfied, he could always return to reshape post-apocalyptic America.

Ozpin was a likely candidate for historical facts. Ulysses' intuition told him that the man had seen his fair share of bloodshed. He would try his fare with the headmaster, if he was not satisfied then he would see himself seeking out others for historical details and stories.

"You want to learn more about history?"

Ulysses' patented blank stare was pasted onto his face as always. There was always more behind his eyes than one could see.

"Never had access to much history," Ulysses said, "Our village… was secluded. Made our own history; never battled with another's." Ulysses recalled the lie they had formulated against Ozpin, about how they had all come from a village. Ulysses never believed the man to be fooled by it, but he went with it anyway on the off chance that he was.

"Well," Ozpin began, "I notice you have taken a liking to Beacon's expansive library. I'm sure you have found all of your history there." Ozpin took a sip of coffee. The man always seemed to have coffee, regardless of where he was or the time of day. Ulysses would see him around Beacon from time to time, though rarely.

"Found some history," Ulysses returned, "Didn't find enough."

Ozpin smiled, "I'm sure you could find everything you would like to know with Doctor Oobleck. He teaches in room 23b." he was dodging the question. He had a lot to share, Ulysses saw it clearly, but instead chose to seal it off from him. He didn't blame Ozpin, though. If a man shows up at your doorstep, one does not simply sit said man down and lecture him on the mistakes they have made so that this man may learn. It was usually a personal subject, shared by choice.

Understanding Ozpin's choice, though internally frustrated with his stubbornness, Ulysses nodded politely and turned to leave the headmaster's office, the man glaring at him from behind as the Wastelander stepped through the door. Ozpin was unsure of the man; he was practically unreadable.

Letting out a soft sigh, Ozpin produced his scroll with the intent of contacting Professor Goodwitch when the device rung. As luck would have it, it was Goodwitch.

"Hello Professor." Ozpin greeted

Mister Graham is requesting permission to take my students on a… on a field trip. Glynda's voice came through the small speakers, Apparently you have already been informed of this?

"Oh, yes." Ozpin said, recalling a prior conversation with the Wastelander, "I did approve of this, Glynda. Of course, without your compliance I am not allowed to issue this trip – they are your students after all."

Goodwitch sighed, Thank you, sir. She hung up.

Ulysses flipped open the book entitled 'Nature's Mysteries' for what he thought to be the eighth time since he had discovered it and unknowingly stolen it from the library. He was unaware that the library system existed and had simply… taken the book. He read it as he found his way to Oobleck's room. He was constantly looking over the page detailing the Tunneler sighting and couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could they find their way so far west?

He quickly found Oobleck's classroom – 23b, as Ozpin had specified – and found that a class was in progress. It was just before midday, after all. Ulysses observed by the door for the next fifteen minutes, getting some odd glances from a few students in the room. He knew none of them by recognition. The bell went off and the students filed out of the room, many of them giving weird glares and strange looks, probably because of his clothes.

The green-haired professor sped around the room too fast for the average eye to keep pace. Ulysses found little trouble watching the man and taking in every word of information he spurted out. He found it odd how Oobleck was able to move so fast, not to mention physically impossible. Eventually, he put it down to semblance, deciding speed was probably the man's innate power. There was no other logical explanation for the feat.

"Ah! Hello there!" The man appeared in front of Ulysses, taking a quick sip from his coffee mug, "Could I be of assistance to you Mister…"

"Need to learn about history, was told that you could help." He didn't offer his name.

"Oh, but of course!" Oobleck sped off, finding himself a seat behind his desk, Ulysses following soon after at his own pace, "Anything you need to know." He smiled.

"Read the books already… learned as much as I could. Need personal history." Ulysses stood facing the man.

"Oh… well in that case I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you. There's not much to see here!" the professor gave a light-hearted chuckle and Ulysses returned with a curt nod before ambling back out through the door. The professor watched as the Wastelander left.

This was most disappointing. Both men seemed to be adamant when it came to discussing the past, but then again they were being questioned by someone who was practically a complete stranger to them. Ulysses would probably be rigid about his own past to most people.

He had hoped he wouldn't drive himself to travel just yet, preferring to stay within beacon for at least the first year, but it seemed his curiosity required satisfaction and he wasn't going to find any in that school.

Having observed a couple of sparring matches between second-year students, Ulysses had been taken aback by their inhuman abilities. He had read somewhere about the abilities that possessing an aura allowed, but the amount of acrobatic and physical prowess he had witnessed were simply defying the laws of the world. If these people were having issues with the Grimm population, Ulysses wanted little to do with it. There was simply no way he could achieve such physical capability – perhaps if he had their age and time, maybe.

Training was in order, though he only hoped to enhance his speed, skills and reflexes just to increase his chances of surviving. He had a distinct advantage over most – experience. His survivalist instincts, intuition and determined mindset were things none of these people possessed, which made Ulysses stand out amongst the crowd. He had the knowledge to fashion weapons and the intellect to design destruction, he even had the skills to make it all possible within his hands – the advantages of being aged were useful to survival.

Secondly, he needed to find a way to access this 'aura'. Sure, he could take up a couple more bullets than the average man, but these people could soak up ten without being affected in the slightest. It would be a useful asset; a useful tool to have.

Thirdly, he needed some sort of income. Remnant was not a post-apocalyptic wasteland like America; in fact, this place seemed to be completely untouched by apocalyptic event – It seemed as though this world were completely separate from the world Ulysses knew. He could not simply kill and take, and he wouldn't exactly survive without money in what seemed to be a fully functional economical system. Mercenary work would suit him for the time being.

He had been honing his skills in one of Beacon's many training rooms, making himself familiar with the holographic technology and presenting himself with new environments and opponents to improve his ability. He had noticed a decent increase in his reaction time and accuracy as a result of these training sessions in the past week, but he didn't feel ready to leave yet. Another week would serve him well, and then perhaps he would be ready to make his departure, perhaps then he would be prepared to endure what history had in store.