Chapter 12
When People Talk
XXXXX
Ruby let out a small yelp as James brought his new ax swinging down, the shaft of Crescent Rose just barely blocking it. James had never claimed to be a master with melee weapons, but he had used them enough that he considered himself reasonably skilled. Still, the Blue Bull's ax was a big step up from the knife he tended to use, and he needed time to get used to it. This weapon was too good to ditch, and the nature of this world and how combat worked in it meant that getting a better weapon for hand to hand combat was something he probably should've done earlier. Ruby had been happy to offer in the form of a sparring match. Since the nature of the match was to get him more acclimated to swinging the ax, not shooting it, they had agreed to not use the ranged functions of their weapons. That had been five minutes ago. They were now going at it in the training room on Ironwood's flagship.
He brought down the ax a second time, trying to power through Ruby's guard. Instead, she disappeared in a blur of red and rose petals. Swearing under his breath, he made to spin around, only for a dull pain to tear into his back. "Gotcha!" she said, clearly proud of herself. Staggering, James turned to see her beaming brightly behind him before she stuck her tongue out sped away in another blur.
"Keep it up sis, it's in the bag!" Yang cheerfully called from the side. The rest of Team RWBY was watching with bated breath. Weiss was furiously tapping into her scroll, but even she was frequently stopping to look up. If anything, she looked as if having to pick between the fight or her scroll was proving to be torture for her. Yang was fidgeting where she stood, looking as if she would love nothing more than to join the fight but was forcing herself to just cheer on her "baby sister." And Blake...Blake. James's mind wandered as he looked at the closeted Faunus, who was watching the fight with marked interest. She had been in the White Fang, in Adam's radicalized section, and she had been sexually active with the boy (James didn't care if he was actually in his 20s, he was still calling the punk a boy). What had driven her to join in the first place if her father had reportedly been a devote pacifist when he had led the Fang? What had driven her to leave? Blake blinked. She had noticed him staring.
"Wide open!" Another dull pain tore into his back. Ruby was not paying respect to James's wandering mind. In retrospect, this was a good thing. If her opponent wasn't paying attention James would want her to exploit that. He just wished he wasn't the one getting punished.
"Mr. Walker, you got this!" Basil shouted, standing off to the side and, ironically, looking even more worked up than James felt. ED-E was madly buzzing around his head, his attitude the same as the young man's. The ex-Hunter, to James's pleasant surprise, seemed to be getting along with the students just fine. No one had really come up with a plan with what to do with him, so he had been hanging around and helping James with odd jobs while James had been putting him through drills. The boy was in good shape and a decent shot, but had never seen a proper battle before. He was insistent on helping though, so James would have to come up with something to do with him. "She's shorter than you! Use that to your advantage!" Basil thought dirty. He had the right idea.
Ruby was grinning openly now, radiating confidence. She twirled on the spot, she was about to speed away again. James darted forward, grabbing for the long, red cape that Ruby wore and getting a handful of it. "Hey! No faaaaaaair!" Ruby shouted as James tugged down hard and slammed Ruby onto her back.
"Not breaking any rules!" James retorted. Maintaining his grip on the cape, he brought the ax down with his free hand. He got two free blows in on Ruby, who let out tiny "eeps" as she began to struggle against his grip. Eventually, she reached up to detach her cape, James only getting one last hit in before she managed to recover and speed away. "If you can do something like that to me, I want you to do it!" he called after her, taking up a defensive position as she came to a stop, shooting him a dirty look.
"Hm. Something like that," she said, more to herself than to him. She blinked. Then her dirty look was replaced with an evil smile. James felt like he had missed a step. Well, he had asked her to. "Let me try." Again, she became a blob of red and rose petals. Not even bothering to check where she was going, James turned a full 180 degrees and swung without looking. There was a clash of metal on metal and the ax head met shaft again. "Oh come on! I had a good idea! I was going to rip your helmet off halfway!"
"That would've been a great idea, but not everyone is just going to let you do it," James said. Pulling back, he made a quick feint. Ruby flinched, moving to block, only for James to instead crouch down and extend his leg. A quick Ranger Takedown would put Ruby on her back again. Ruby's eyes went wide as she realized her mistake. Instead of attempting to dodge, however, she spun Crescent Rose in her hands and slammed its head directly onto his ankle. James hissed as pins and needles shot through his leg, which was brought to a screeching halt.
With a hasty swung, he batted the scythe away and began scrambling backward on all fours. Ruby, emboldened, dashed forward, viciously swinging her weapon in glee. Now James was on the defensive, flipping the ax over and desperately blocking the incoming blows. Ruby's scythe was unlike any weapon he had ever gone up against, dwarfing even Lanius's sword in sheer size. It was unnerving how quickly the small girl was spinning it around, determinedly attempting to slice his head off. But as talented as Ruby was, she was inexperienced, and he was going to capitalize on that.
As the blade of Crescent Rose bit into the ax he took a risk. One hand darted to his side, drawing his knife and flicking it up into the air. Ruby's eyes widened as he caught it by the blade and threw it as hard as he could at her. She stepped back, twirling Crescent Rose and easily deflecting the knife, but she had left her legs open. Throwing himself forward, James gave a meaty, two-handed swing. There was a cry of pain from Ruby as the ax head smacked into one of her legs and she collapsed to the ground. The electronic arena around them flashed red. "Aura below 50%. Match over," an electronic voice announced. James let out a gasp of relief as he got to his feet. After the thorough pasting that Phyrra had given him, it was nothing short of euphoric to win a sparring match. He offered a hand to Ruby, who was staring up at him with a pout.
"I had really good ideas for how to beat you you know," she grumbled, grabbing his hand. "Not just the one with the helmet." James nodded as he pulled her to her feet.
"I don't doubt it. And the next time we spar, I want you to use every last one of them," he said. A bright and excited look shot across Ruby's face as she opened her mouth. "Ah-ah-ah," James said, wagging his finger. "If you tell me them all, I'll be able to adapt. I want you to try and come up with something on the spur of the moment to catch your opponent off guard. I didn't go into this fight thinking I would grab your cape." That was a lie. When brainstorming how to fight Ruby, that ball of red cloth had been one of the first weaknesses he had considered exploiting. But he was trying to make a point here, now wasn't the time for semantics. "You need to look for openings that only present themselves in the moment and capitalize on them. Decisions like that in the head of the moment can be the deciding factor between victory and defeat. Like my trick with the knife there." That wasn't a lie, tossing his knife had very much been a spur of the moment idea.
"Oh!" Ruby said. Reaching to her side, she drew the pistol he had given her. "Like drawing this when they're not expecting it and getting off a few quick shots?"
A massive grin split James's face as he gave her a hearty clap on the shoulder. "Now you've got it!" He glanced at the others. Weiss was clapping politely, Blake was silent, and Yang was grumpily depositing fifty Lien into the hand of a very smug-looking Basil. "That goes for the rest of you too. If someone's trying to kill you, hit them whenever you can with whatever you can."
"Understood," Weiss said, nodding. "I take it you'll want to look at the results?" She crossed the room, holding her scroll up to James with the results of the match.
"Ruby Rose Aura: 49% James Walker Aura: 57%" A spike of pride shot up inside James. He had finally managed to win a sparring match against one of the students. The youngest one. The youngest and least experienced. Whom he had only narrowly defeated. A small frown formed on his lips. The more he thought about it, the more his ego felt like it had air leaking out of it. In retrospect, it wasn't a particularly impressive feat. A horrible, gnawing sensation crept into the pit of his stomach.
All this time in Remnant and he was still struggling to keep up with Aura users. His normal combat skill was well above average, but his Aura related skills were only above average by novice standards. He tried to remind himself that he had only had these abilities for weeks at most and that he should stop worrying. The gnawing subsided but didn't truly go away. He had to stop thinking about this. His room was filled with the materials he had scavenged from the Hunters base, mostly ammo, medical supplies, and fresh clothes, but he had snuck a few of the Blue Bull's beers in there. He would have one or two when he was done for the day, something to take the edge off of it all and help him relax.
"I'm hungry, anyone else want to grab a bite to eat?" Yang asked, avoiding eye contact with Basil.
James jumped on this distraction. "Sounds good to me." He hadn't gotten a chance to eat with Team RWBY since his first full day in Remnant, much of his lunch time had been dedicated to taking inventory of his loot from the Hunters. This included breaking down and converting ammo with ED-E's help, feeling the fresh relief of the cleanest socks he had ever gotten his hands on, a low standard sadly, and figuring out the ins and outs of Remnant medicine. Also, Basil had taken him driving a few times with the Sergeant's car, and James was getting better at driving. At the very least, Basil wasn't screaming anymore.
He wasn't sure how he felt about Remnant, but he knew he loved the food. The meat was fresh, the produce was massive and delicious, and the water was always clean. It still felt wasteful, the sheer volume of it that was piled up at times, like they would run out if they kept this up. There seemed to be no end to the foodstuffs and he had been assured that a famine would be needed to cause a serious food shortage. Despite this, he often found himself eating moderate amounts, the same amount he would in the Mojave. Where he came from, if you overate today, you starved tomorrow. He would put that out of his mind for this meal. This would be a simple, calming lunch with the students.
Ten minutes later, he was rudely corrected.
"Weiss, you need protein," James said sharply. He could understand skimping on meat back in the Mojave. Even with Heck Gunderson's aggressive expansion, meat was expensive, but there was no such reason here. He and Team RWBY were all sitting in the flagship's mess hall, and he could see plenty of fresh meat being served, even from their table. Weiss was poking at a plate that was all salad. It made sense, Weiss did have a very lithe figure compared to the rest of her team, but she needed some muscle for her line of work.
"I keep telling you Weiss, gotta get some meat on that dainty frame of yours," Yang said teasingly, smirking as she did.
"I am perfectly comfortable with my body, thank you very much," Weiss said icily, shooting daggers at Yang.
"Yang, you need greens," James said. "Come on, they don't grow them anywhere near this big where I come from. Don't eat any fruits and veggies all your life and you'll start losing your teeth." Yang was the exact opposite of Weiss. While Weiss looked as if she was a vegetarian, Yang seemed to think the main food groups were beef, pork, chicken, and fish. "You don't know how good you have it." God damn it, I'm talking like an old man. Fuck me, I AM an old man. Oh well, already too late to turn back. "You don't get vegetables this good in the desert. It's-RUBY! COOKIES ARE NOT LUNCH!"
Ruby, who seemed to have substituted a proper meal for five of the cookies that were given to liven up the meals of Atlas soldier, protectively pulled her plate towards her. James groaned. "Is there anything I can do to get you girls to eat more balanced meals?"
"How about some more stories," Yang said slyly, leaning back in her chair. James had a sneaking feeling that she was exploiting him here. Well, it couldn't hurt. "Tell us more about Earth, something interesting you saw there."
"Half of the interesting stuff I found in life was from poking around Pre-War ruins. If the courier thing didn't work out full time, I honestly considered becoming a prospector as my fallback job. You just see a lot of interesting stuff that way. Like the Nuka-Cola factory where they tried their hands at making rum." James let out a laugh. "Man did that give me stories to tell for a month and a half. I'm used to seeing bombed out buildings all over the wasteland, but they usually don't have signs out in front saying the place was blown to hell five years before the bombs fell."
He held his hands up. "I'm never going to forget it. On October 3rd, 2072, America's Second Great Molasses Flood occurred. No lives were claimed, but hundreds of millions of dollars in damage were caused. It was probably mainly Nuka-Cola property, considering that two centuries later it still smells of coconut. Really shit coconut too."
Yang laughed. "So I take it the rum wasn't very good?"
James let out a strangled laugh. "I mean, there's a certain quality to being able to eat through industrial-grade steel. I managed to make an acid grenade out of one bottle, and I swear this is true, I was able to use it to melt three Pre-War military robots. The stuff probably would've eaten through power armor like it was candy."
"Ok, now we're getting somewhere. What else? What's this power armor stuff? Is it like what Atlas has?" Yang asked, leaning forward over the table and looking interesting. Three other sets of eyes were now glued to him. Then it all came to a close.
"James?" Winter was right behind them. He glanced at her with uncertainty. Things had been a little odd between the two of them ever since his assault on the Hunter base a day ago. She wasn't quite mad with him, she didn't seem to be able to muster up the passion for that, but things still came off as somewhat strained. Team RWBY looked on in confusion. None of them had been given the full details on what had happened at the Hunter base, that was being saved until after Ironwood's press conference. He wondered if they would look at him differently after that. "General Ironwood would like to speak with you." She glanced at ED-E. "Only you. Please follow me."
James nodded before glancing back at Team RWBY. "Another time then. Please eat right while I'm gone. ED-E? Make sure they do so." There was a series of awkward nods and a beep from the eye-bot as James began to follow Winter. "So what's the word? Does Ironwood have a problem with the White Fang? Do we need to head back downtown?"
"No. Ironwood's press conference aired an hour ago today." Pulling out her scroll, Winter opened a video and passed it back to him. "The White Fang was willing to part with a list of their safehouses and the last one that Adam was spotted at earlier this morning."
James took the scroll as a video began to play, midway through the conference. Ironwood was standing in front of a podium with a dozen different microphones, the flag of Atlas right behind him. "Despite rumors, I can assure you that the events of yesterday night were carried out by Atlas Specialists. The Hunters were a gang that had proven itself to be a threat to the public, as demonstrated by their random, unprovoked attacks on Atlas civilians. Their base of operations was surrounded and they were ordered to surrender. Upon refusing to, they opened fire and our Specialists were forced to retaliate with lethal force. I'm disappointed to remark that several discharged members of the Atlas military were among the dead. We will be conducting investigations into the matter to ensure no future servicemen take part in such activities."
James paused the video, getting the point. "The White Fang were happy with this?"
"They especially appreciated all the times it deviated from the truth," Winter remarked sourly. James decided not to ask which parts had been lies. "The important matter is that they upheld their end of the bargain. We are arranging a counter-attack on the White Fang, we will be departing in twelve hours. General Ironwood wishes to speak with you on important matters before he announces it." James nodded, even though Winter could most likely not see it.
She led him into a windowless side room that was full of tables. To his surprise, it was laden with objects from Earth. LAERs and a few laser rifles dotted one table, complete with microfusion cells, while the others had more mundane objects. Legion knives, a few revolvers, some bags of Legion money, and a table that had a dozen or so bottle of Nuka-Cola on them. James glanced at the last table and moved on. Then he did a double-take. The majority of the bottles were of the basic Nuka-Cola flavor. One bottle, on the other hand, glowed with its own light. A bottle of Nuka-Cola Quantum.
James crossed the room, doing his best not to shove Winter out of the way, and picked up the bottle. It was sealed, fresh, and full. Yes. Oh hell the fuck yes.
Ironwood looked as if he had been about to speak, but hesitated when he saw James examining the bottle. "A favored refreshment of yours?"
"Oh god no, this shit is not safe to drink," James said. "But I've seen amazing shit done with this before. Ironwood, you gotta let me keep this stuff. If I can just get my hand on a couple of common chemicals, I can turn it into one hell of a bomb." He gestured to the last plasma grenade that I had. "You saw what one of these did to the White Fang, right? Let me work with the Quantum and I can cook something up that'll make it look like a firecracker."
Ironwood and Winter both shared a startled look. "I was going to offer you one of these energy weapons, I'm certain that you can get more out of them than with a bottle of soda." He cocked his head. "I'm not even certain how old it is."
"Oh, 200 years at the minimum, no one's been making Nuka-Cola since the war," James said. "And while the classic stuff is drinkable, if you like garbage like that, this is dangerous. Radioactive isotopes are in them. Good for grenades." James glanced at the LAERs and laser rifles. "As for your offer, I'm going to have to politely decline. I was never a fan of energy weapons. Harder to maintain than ballistic weapons, you can't craft ammo the same way you can with bullets, and overall there are just more things that can go wrong with them." He smiled, lifting up the bottle. "I'll just take this, help yourself to the energy weapons."
"Very well, it's yours," Ironwood said, sounding confused but not upset. "I planned on shipping the ones you didn't take to R&D for research. Atlas has been experimenting with energy weapons, and we have a few functional models in the field, but these are proving to be superior to any infantry models we have produced. Most of our successes has been heavy, mounted weapons, we have been struggling with long arms. We're having difficulty with the power source, but I have confidence that we will be able to either replicate it or find a way in which we can substitute it with Dust. Most likely the former. Winter has told me a good deal about the fusion capabilities that your robot possesses, and while I've no doubt it is quite reliable, replicating it is a bit beyond us at this time." James privately agreed.
"In case you were wondering, this room contains everything of note from Earth we have managed to recover from our battle with the Legion and the White Fang back in Vale. I was wondering if you could take a look around and tell me if there's anything of note here. We want to avoid any further surprises from the Legion." James nodded as he slid the Nuka-Cola Quantum bottle into his rucksack and started to pace the room. He made a point to keep an eye out for anything that could be from Big Mountain, that would be the real problem if the Legion managed to get enough of it.
Thankfully, the majority of the salvaged equipment was rather mundane. "This is healing powder," he said, picking up a drawstring bag. "Tribal medicine that the Legion uses because it totally doesn't count as medicine." He put it down. "Not really that effective. Stimpacks are better, and your medicine blows it out of the water. It's another way in which the Legion kneecaps itself." He moved onto the small device right next to it, something that looked like a smaller version of his Pip-Boy.
"Well crap, that's a Stealth-Boy," he said, picking it up. Strapping it to his arm, he flicked the switch on the side. Nothing happened. "Drained. Crap." He took it off. "When they're fully charged, they're capable of generating tactical cloaks. One of the frumentarii must've gotten caught in the crossfire, no one else in the Legion would ever use anything like this." That went back onto the table. He kept looking around. To his relief, everything else wouldn't look out of place in the average wasteland tribe. It seemed that the Legion had only been interested in a handful of technologically advanced tools. Caesar was more than willing to break his own rules when it suited him, but he seemed to be trying to limit it as much as possible. If James wanted to make a safe bet, Caesar didn't want his men getting too used to the comforts of Pre-War tech. "Fucking idiot," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "There's not much else, looks like the Legion only took so much with them."
Ironwood nodded. "That's a relief. We have a more or less exact location on Adam and his allies. I want you to be part of the strike team that finally takes him down."
James gave a gaunt grin. "Oh, I've got some catching up to do with that asshole. Count me in." James had known Adam was a detestable person the minute he had laid eyes on him, and every time he learned more about him James couldn't help but hate him more. "Him and Vulpes. When do we leave?"
"Not for some time. I want a midnight raid, catch them while they're sleeping," Ironwood said. "But there's a few things I wanted to talk with you about. First and foremost, your attack on the Hunters." James almost let out a resigned sigh. Well, he should've seen this coming. "While I will not be defending the moral character of the Hunters, what you did was not how we handle delicate matters in Atlas." His jaw stiffened. "I am not Ozpin. He may be content to let those he commands galavant around, doing as they please, destabilizing already volatile situations, but I do not. This is my country, James. You are here as a guest. Do anything like that again, I will ensure that you never move freely about Atlas again. If I am feeling generous. Do you understand?"
"I do," James said. Times like these, it was best to just take your lumps. If anything, this was easier than dealing with Winter's disappointment.
"Good," Ironwood said. "You've proven yourself a valuable asset, Mr. Walker. That, and the fact that you managed to produce results in a roundabout way, are the only reasons I haven't sent you straight back to Vale. Or to the inside of a cell. I recommend that you do not push your luck on the matter. Now then, while we're on the subject matter, the survivor, Basil. I do not feel comfortable letting an untested, unenlisted youth remain here while we are hunting dangerous terrorists."
"Look, I promised him he could help," James said defensively. After everything he had put Basil through, the least he could do was stand up for the kid. "There's gotta be a support role he can play."
"As a matter of fact, there is one," Ironwood said. "We will test the boy for Aura. If he gains one, I will provide him with an offer. Atlas Academy is currently in the middle of a semester, so he will have to wait until the start of a new school year to enroll. Atlas, however, sometimes finds promising recruits that it wants to prepare for the rigorous curriculum that we put our Huntsmen and Huntresses in training through. An around the year boot-camp of sorts, one that is designed to prepare them for the entrance exam. Basil, should he be able to activate Aura, will be given a chance to attend this camp and eventually apply to Atlas Academy. Should he graduate, this will all but guarantee him being admitted to the ranks of Atlas Huntsmen with the potential to become a Specialist after three years of service. Otherwise, I'm afraid he cannot be allowed to remain on military property. As he is, he is a liability." James mulled it over, privately noting that Specialists seemed to play the same role as Veteran Rangers. Basil was green, there was no getting around it. But if he trained properly, he could be a force to be reckoned with. At that point, Ironwood chose to sweeten the deal. "I would also be happy to write him a letter of recommendation to any of the other three schools if he wishes."
That pushed James over the edge. "Ok. I'll try and sell him on it." When he stopped and looked it all over, Ironwood was probably right on this being the best path for Basil. The kid wasn't ready to be thrown into the meat grinder yet. Basil had said he had wanted to help James. Well, becoming the best fighter he could be was helping him, even if it was mainly in the long run.
"Thank you. Secondly, may I please see your scroll?" He held out his hand. Confused, James fished it out and handed it to him. Ironwood took it, producing one of his own, and began typing on both of them. After a minute, he gave a smile of satisfaction before handing James's back to him. Filling up the screen was an ID with his face on it, a picture he couldn't remember being taken. In addition to his information, albeit with a birthdate that looked like it had been forged and Vale listed as his place of birth, there was a title on top of the ID. "James Walker. Huntsman License. Provisional."
"Provisional?" he said, looking at Ironwood, feeling confused. "And why do I need a license exactly?"
"This is a matter of convenience," Ironwood said. "If anyone had caught you during your raid on the Hunters, it would've been as a private citizen attacking without justification." That was debatable, but James kept his mouth shut. "We will avoid countless awkward inquiries with you having a license as a Huntsmen. As for why it's provisional, provisional licenses are issued in odd circumstances. Team RWBY posses student licenses, Qrow a standard license, and Winter a military license. We issue ones like yours when they can't neatly fit into any of the previous three categories. It means enough has been seen that you're considered skilled enough to become a Huntsman, but more time or training is needed before that can become official. It also means your license is only valid when you're operating with someone who possesses a standard or military license. Please do keep that in mind. This will give you legal protection when you are working with those with full licenses, but not for solo missions."
Ah. There it was. The ball and chain that was his punishment for what he had done with the Hunters. He was allowed to continue operating, but only under supervision. Out of the corner of his eye, Winter was looking at him very intently. All things considered, he was still getting off pretty easy, best to just take the restrictions and not complain about it. "You know, I got something like this back home," he said, reaching into his rucksack. After rummaging for a bit, he pulled out a handful of crumpled papers. "I wasn't born in the NCR, my family was nomadic for most of their lives, so I wasn't a citizen. I got honorary citizenship for 'service to the Republic' as they put it." He gave a bitter laugh. "Funny thing about that. Honorary citizens can vote, own land, and are granted most legal protections citizens get. But they can't run for office."
Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Was there an NCR politician who was concerned about that?"
"Maybe?" James said. "It was hard to say. President Kimball was all too happy to pin a medal on my chest." He was fairly certain it had fallen under his bed a few months ago. If he ever got back to the Lucky 13 he should probably get around to checking that. "But I was never too interested in running. Not that he'd ever believe that. Check the newspaper that's slipped in there." Ironwood did so, pulling out a weathered and folded up bit of newsprint. As he did, James saw the familiar title. "Walker Backs Cole." Beneath the title was a picture of him and an elderly woman that had dark tribal tattoos all over her face. The pair of them were shaking hands and smiling at the camera. James had always hated how awkward it made the two of them look.
"Ah," Ironwood said, handing James back his papers. "I see. Going against the incumbent?"
"Kimball's an asshole who is too fond of nepotism," James said, filing the papers away. "But that's the nice thing about democracy, you can campaign against politicians you don't like. And Cole is campaigning on increased development in the NCR's newest regions and focused efforts on ensuring the people in those regions enjoy the same quality of life as citizens in the core regions. Some people don't like her because the funding for this would come from increased taxes on the rich, so it's proving to be a heated campaign." The election had been six months out when he had gone to investigate Big MT. And now he wasn't sure if he would ever be-he had to stop thinking like that. He would get back. He had to. "Though she's advised me to stick to saying why she's a good candidate as opposed to why he's a bad one. Somehow that's kept him from taking shots at me. Publicly. Privately he's made it very clear he hates my guts now." James wondered how long the list of people who hated him was. He had a talent.
"Understandable," Ironwood said. "Getting back on topic, I've talked with Ozpin and he agrees that a provisional license is the best approach. If you wish, you may speak to me about potentially becoming a full Huntsman. You do have the makings of a good one once you're more familiar with your Aura." A Huntsman. James didn't feel comfortable with that. In fact, he would go so far as to say it felt wrong. If he said yes to something like that, he was basically accepting that he was stuck here. He shook his head as he slipped his scroll away, more frantically than he had meant to. Ironwood looked disappointed but hid it quickly.
"I simply ask that you take some time to think about it. Thirdly, and this is something I need you to stay quiet about, Rumford has gone missing," Ironwood said. James felt himself grimacing in disgust before he could stop himself. The human-shaped pile of walking garbage was out and about? "I share your distaste. He was being moved from my flagship to a more permanent holding area, along with another prisoner I had. Roman Torchwick, a Vale crime boss."
"Wait, hold up," James said. "Torchwick? Wasn't that name on the list of potential Legion allies we found back in Vale?"
"My concerns exactly," Ironwood said. "We found the car that had been transporting them abandoned in the forest with one soldier murdered and a second one missing. We suspect that we may have had an infiltrator, the wound on the murdered soldier matched the description of a weapon used by one of Torchwick's known associates, a girl by the moniker of Neo." Ironwood picked up a couple of pictures that had been lying on a nearby table and handed them to James.
One was a mugshot of a rather handsome man with red hair wearing eyeliner, a red bowler hat, and a white suit. The other was a more distant picture of a short girl, no more than five feet tall, on a mostly deserted city street, standing in front of the first man. James had to do a double-take on her. She was idly holding a bright, frilly, pink umbrella against her shoulder, was wearing a Victorian-ish white and pink outfit, and her hair was half pink half brown. "The fuck?" he said, staring at the second picture.
"I've seen stranger outfits," Winter remarked dryly.
"Regardless," Ironwood said. "If only Torchwick had gone missing, I would've assumed this would've been the work of our unknown foe. They would have had no interest in Rumford, they may have even killed him. As such, I believe this was a rescue operation by Caesar's Legion to retrieve Rumford and recruit Torchwick." Ironwood frowned. "Though I'm not certain as to why they would go to such lengths for Rumford. He was hardly one of their more valued assets."
That was an understatement. "Recruit Torchwick? Maybe," James said. "I don't know if they wanted to rescue Rumford though. Not because they'd care if he killed some Faunus, they'd value him over them. They'd have a different issue with him. The Legion frowns on those who let themselves be taken prisoner. They view it as a sign of weakness. If they grabbed him, well, let's just say he's not in an enviable position right now. If he's still alive, he probably wishes he wasn't."
Ironwood nodded. "In that case, Rumford will most likely be a self-solving problem. We should be more concerned with the Legion acquiring a new ally in the form of Torchwick. His criminal empire has been dismantled, but he and his associates are proven to be dangerous in a fight. Don't underestimate them." James nodded as he handed the photos back to Ironwood.
"That's almost everything. There is just one more thing I've been wondering about. You mentioned it when we first met. Nuclear weapons." James tensed up. A talk about the very device that had turned Earth into a barren wasteland so many years ago. This wasn't going to go anywhere good. "Are you familiar with the design of the weapons? If not, which I would understand, could you at least describe the materials used in the construction of such weapons?"
James's response was quick, a little too quick. It gave away that he was uncomfortable with the topic. "Why do you need to know?" Winter's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Between this and how Qrow had been able to so easily push her buttons when he had first arrived, James had a feeling that disrespecting Ironwood was the easiest way to earn Winter's ire. Ironwood, however, tensed up as well. It was gone in a flash, but James had spotted it. Ironwood didn't want to tell him the reason for this question. The discomfort in James doubled.
"We have no desire to introduce such a weapon onto the world, if that is your concern," Ironwood said, giving James a comforting smile. Or at least a smile he thought was comforting, James couldn't help but feel it was a little too wide. "I remember all too well the description you gave of Earth's Great War. A horrible thing nothing like Remnant has ever seen before, with a senseless slaughter that we can only imagine. But you must understand something James." He gestured to the room around him to the energy weapons. "Your world's technology has been introduced into Remnant. We do not know how many of these weapons are now on the planet, or if the White Fang is maintaining a monopoly on them. For all we know, they have been trading Earth technology away in exchange for more basic supplies. We know that Adam Taurus is cut off from the rest of the White Fang and their Legion allies are stranded. Desperation could push them to be careless."
"And you think the Legion smuggled a nuke through the portal?" James asked, feeling skeptical.
"Most likely not, I admit," Ironwood said. "But every legionary knows of the existence of them. It is possible some may be aware of the more basic theories, concepts that may make their way towards Remnant scientists." There was an uncomfortable pause. "Potentially scientists not of Atlas."
Alarm bells were ringing in James's head. Everything about this screamed trouble. Even Winter, who had been looking at him in irritation, did a double-take at Ironwood. She looked surprised by this direction of the conversation. "I thought Atlas was at peace with the other kingdoms," he said.
"We are," Ironwood said, in a tone that just screamed that a "but" was coming. James wasn't disappointed. "But politics are never truly free of tension. I understand you are new to Remnant and thus have most likely not had time to familiarize yourself with this planet's politics in great detail. I can promise you, it is not as smooth as Ozpin and I would like the public to believe. Vacuo, for example, has vocally voiced frustration with Atlas corporations supposedly overextending themselves in their borders and have accused us of relying on trade agreements that were balanced in our favor." A hint of anger flashed across Winter's face. James wasn't a hundred percent certain he knew what that meant, but he had a good idea.
"I am not certain I agree with them, but the resentment is there. Mistral has also chafed at allowing historical Atlas military bases to exist within its borders, and there are Vale politicians who resent the presence of my fleet standing guard over Beacon Academy and the city of Vale." James was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that, of all the four Kingdoms, Atlas was easily the strongest in terms of military and economic might.
"Is there any possibility that the Legion could have acquired access to nuclear weapons?" Ironwood asked. "If non-Atlas scientists gain access to these LAERs, we would be able to match them. Nuclear weapons, on the other hand, would be different. It could change the balance of Remnant into a volatile situation. We could not afford to be caught flat-footed."
"None," James said firmly. "The NCR core territories would've been a radioactive crater if they had. Even if they wanted to avoid ruining more fertile regions, they still could've smuggled a nuke into the Boneyard to throw the NCR into chaos." That was a horrific thought to contemplate. Los Angeles weathering a second wave of atomic fire was something he wasn't sure he could take. "But Ironwood, you need to listen to me. You do not want nuclear weapons. They are an albatross around your neck. Pre-War Earth had an idea called MAD, mutually assured destruction. The idea was that if all nations had nukes, no one would be willing to fire them, because it would lead to a war where no one would win. It worked fine until things got too desperate and everyone was fighting over scraps. Then the war to end all wars happened and billions died in the blink of an eye. MAD doesn't fucking work."
James slammed his hands down onto one of the tables before he could stop himself. "Ironwood, you need to listen to me! Promise me, if the Legion does manage to sneak anything nuclear into Remnant, destroy it. This is something you can't play with; it will bite you in the ass. If Atlas develops nuclear weapons, everyone else is going to want the same capabilities. There isn't a nation on Earth or Remnant that wants to be stuck at that kind of disadvantage. This shit? It fucking killed my planet. Don't let our mistakes become your mistakes. Please!"
Ironwood didn't look convinced. "Are there any chances that they, or anyone else who is dangerous, has or could be capable of acquiring them in the past or the near future? In Remnant or Earth?" He was completely dodging James's pleas.
"No. Ironwood, you're not listening to me! You-" James began, feeling equal parts frustrated and terrified, but he wasn't in Ironwood's office anymore.
The wind was howling in his ear, tearing at any flesh that he hadn't been able to cover. There was a bitter, stale taste in his mouth, one that persisted even through his gas mask. He had to squint to see through the perpetual dust storm, so thick that he almost felt like he was swimming through it. It was nearly impossible to hear anything the roaring wind, even his own voice was like a muffled whisper to him. But James could still hear him. Every last word was crystal clear. "Missile silos exploded from beneath the ground, cracked the landscape. Sand, ash... the dead... the Divide skies became a graveyard."
They were all around them. The colors and armor of the NCR and Legion mixed together in an unholy mob, red raw skin glaring wherever they were absent. Primal screaming, barely human, filled his ears. They were upon them, clawing, biting, and pulling. He was being pulled into them, his armor buckling under the assault. He couldn't get away, he couldn't fight them off. There were too many. There were too many.
This was his fault.
"Mr. Walker? Mr. Walker!" He was back in Ironwood's flagship. Somehow, he had ended up on the ground, tears in his eyes and aching pain in his side. The general standing over him, shock and regret etched into his face.
A pair of hands gripped him from the side, firmly but gently lifting him up. "General Ironwood, permission to speak freely?" Winter asked. Ironwood blinked before nodding. "I think it would be in James's best interest if he was exempt from all further questioning regarding nuclear weapons." James blinked, gingerly wiping the tears out of his eyes with his off hand. Winter was the one who was holding him up, looking much paler than usual.
"I cannot promise this indefinitely, but I believe we can stop here," Ironwood said, looking ever so slightly guilty. "Please, Specialist, see him back to his room. He's earned a rest." Winter didn't say anything, she merely helped James out of the room. They had been moving down the hallway for at least a minute before she broke the silence that had formed between them.
"I...apologize," Winter said, sounding as if she was unfamiliar with the words. "It was not my intention to cause you this level of distress. I understand how people in fields like ours have sensitive topics that can be triggering. I promise to not bring up subjects like those around you."
"It's ok," James said weakly. He really needed to down one of the Blue Bull's beers now. "I think I'm good to walk." Winter shot him a questioning look as she loosened her grip on him but didn't fully let go. "It's just...Winter, you can't really appreciate what those things do until you see the damage first hand. The wounds they leave last for centuries. Please." He had to make her understand. If he couldn't reach Ironwood, maybe he could reach her. Whatever problems Remnant had with race inequality and giant demonic wolves, he couldn't let it share Earth's fate. "Don't let them become a reality here. It'll be a matter of if, not when, they get used."
Winter's face twisted into the expression of someone who was deeply divided as she fully let go of him. She looked back towards the room they had just exited. "I," she began before her voice died. "I will be sure that General Ironwood understands your concerns," she said, her voice strained. "After all, you are more knowledgeable than anyone else on the subject. General Ironwood only benefits from hearing the input of experts."
"Winter, no, that's not good enough," James said, panic spreading through him. Winter was trying to dodge the subject, to kick it upstairs to Ironwood and let him be the final arbitrator. James could tell, right now, that was a mistake. Ironwood wasn't a bad man, but he had seen the way the Atlas general had not been convinced. He didn't think Atlas could fall prey to the same events that had consumed America and China. "Ironwood respects you, you need to tell him that it's a mistake. He is getting in way over his head and playing with something he can't control. That no matter what happens, nuclear weapons can't be allowed to develop. Please. You have something beautiful here." He was afraid the tears would start flowing again. He held them back. "Don't ruin it like we did."
A sad look crossed Winter's face. "James. I can't promise anything. If General Ironwood wants to pursue the development of these weapons, it will more likely than not happen. He holds two seats on the Atlas Council, one as head of the Atlas military, one as head of Atlas Academy." She gripped her arm and looked away from him. "I'm sorry. But his decisions are final and for a good reason. Please, do not worry. Your concern is touching, but General Ironwood knows what he's doing." She still looked shaken. James felt deflated. Just like that? The two of them stood there for what felt like hours.
A voice broke the silence.
"Mr. Walker! You've been in Mantle for this long? I would've come sooner if I had known!" James turned, feeling numb. Han and Róta, of all people, were approaching from the end of the hallway. Róta was leading the way, while Han was right behind her, feeling his way forward with a red marked cane. "You got my message, didn't you? Or did it get lost? Oh, it doesn't matter, you're here now." He grinned brightly. "I've found a way home for you."
"Right," James said emotionlessly. This had gone on a little too long. He probably shouldn't have humored the old man in the first place. "Listen, I'm gonna be blunt with you. There is no way that you found a way for me to get back home. It's beyond anything Atlas can do, so I doubt you're different. I'm sorry."
Instead of taking the hint, Han let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Mr. Walker. Please, come along for a drive with Róta and I. We live a bit of a ways away, a little house we built about an hour away from Mantle." James was starting to feel frustrated now. He had enough on his plate right now, and Han's misguided good intentions were starting to rub him the wrong way.
"Let it go, ok?" James grunted. "The thought means a lot to me, but unless you can tell me what it is, and convince me it isn't a waste of my time, I'm busy." He was being rude, he knew it. But he had much more important things to deal with and Han didn't have any actual answers for him.
Róta's eyes narrowed and she took a step forward. Han's ears picked up at the sound of her steps. "Róta, Róta, patience. He's going through a good deal right now." The muscular woman stopped, shot James a glare, and folded her arms behind her back. "I'll make you a deal," Han said, reaching into his cloak. "I really don't want to spoil the surprise, so I'll put up some collateral. A hundred thousand lien." Holding up an utterly massive stack of lien, he smiled. "This is charity money, I'm supposed to be using it for a down payment on a low-income complex for Faunus to live in. If I give this to you, I'll have to pay for the loss out of my personal account." He winked, even through his sunglasses. "I hope this is a sign that I'm quite confident in my solution."
James groaned. "Fine. I could use a hundred grand." James wasn't sure he was going to actually take the whole sum of money, but he would probably take a thousand or two for his time. Something the old man could afford to cover. Maybe this was for the best, people tended to swallow their pride a bit when it cost them four figures. "You driving?"
"I think I should accompany you," Winter said suddenly. "Do you recall our conversation from yesterday?" The dread over their talk of nuclear weapons left him as he remembered Winter talking about him being targeted by the Legion. He felt a chill casually pass through him. He nodded. "Baring that in mind, I think it would be for the best if you didn't go alone. We must be back at base in twelve hours for official business, so let me clear this with Ironwood to ensure that we can finish this important business without interruption." She didn't quite look like she meant it when she called the business important, so at least she and James were on the same page.
A frown crossed over Han's face, but it was gone in an instant. "If you insist, I won't complain," Han said, getting a smile back on his face. "If we head out now, we can have you back home in no-time. You should grab anything of importance that you want"
James nodded, not really listening. "Should I talk to Basil before we head out?" he asked Winter as they started to move towards the exit. "Tell him about Ironwood's deal? I need to get ED-E anyway."
"I think that would be for the best, I'll go with you. I can see if he has any Aura potential," Winter said. "I'll be certain to tell him the benefits. Professor Zinna Carmine is one of the best combat instructors one could ever ask for."
"Ah, she's still teaching then? She must be older than I am," Han said. "I've never been to the school, mind you, but I've heard of her. I think she just turned a hundred last year, it was on the news." He let out a laugh. "But listen to me ramble. Our truck is just outside the base, they let me in when I asked for you by name, apparently, Professor Ozpin put in a word for me. Let's get you home Mr. Walker, I'll be outside when you're done."
"Uh-huh," James said, without listening. James was far more interested in what he was going to say to Basil. At least the ride might help him clear his head. Slowly, he made his way back to the mess hall.
XXXXX
Pyrrha's mind was racing as she tried to relax, but it was simply proving to be impossible. Her entire view of the world had been flipped on its head. The Maidens of the old fairy tale were real, powerful artifacts that were the creation of gods were being guarded at each of the academies, and a pair of twin brother gods were all verifiable facts and not myths, Ozpin was thousands of years old and reincarnated when he died, and she had been chosen to wield the power of the Fall Maiden.
How had this happened? One day she had just been a student, and now all of this had been thrust onto her. She tried to pace her breathing but it didn't help. Pressure was building up inside of her. She had to talk to someone, anyone. There was so much she couldn't say, but she had to have some kind of release. She moved throughout Ironwood's flagship, not truly paying attention to where she was going. Jaune, Nora, Ren, anyone would do really.
"Go on ahead, I just gotta get a few things. This'll probably be a waste of time but we should be prepared. I'll be in the mess hall when I'm done here." Pyrrha blinked. She was right outside James's room. He was standing there as Winter walked away. Idly, he reached into his room.
"Mr. Walker?" she asked before he could stop herself. "Can I have a word?"
James jolted up as if he had been shocked. Pyrrha could swear that she heard the sound of bottles clinking as he did. He turned to face her. His body slackened as he saw her. "Oh, Pyrrha, I didn't see you there. A word? Of course. Oh, and it's James. I think I worked a day as a teacher's aid, nothing more," the older man said.
Pyrrha nodded as she exhaled. She wished she would have preferred to talk to Jaune about this, but James would have to do. "James. I...have you ever...do you think...I'm sorry." She had to work up to this. To help lay the ground for how badly this was affecting her. "Do you believe in destiny?"
James blinked, giving her an uncertain look. "As in predetermination? Your life is all set out in front of you?"
Pyrrha shook her head. "No, not like that. Not predetermination. I view destiny as a goal you strive towards. Something that you dedicate most, if not all, of your life towards. Something that has become a core part of your identity." She had wanted to be a Huntress so badly, to work hard and save people with the fruits of those labors. And now it all felt so different. It felt wrong. "That's what I mean by destiny. Do you believe in it?"
James paused before giving a heavy sigh. "No. I don't." Pyrrha felt taken aback. She hadn't expected that as a reply. He noticed. "Let me explain," he said. "I grew up traveling around with my family's caravan. I loved it, we were always on the move and seeing something new. I've been all over the NCR core territories and beyond. Sandy Shades, Vault City, Maxson, The Hub, New Reno, Boneyard, and more. Being on the move made me feel alive. So when my parents got too old to keep doing the caravan and the rest of the family settled down with them, I got a job as a courier."
James gave a nostalgic smile. "It was everything I adored about the caravan with none of the hassles. No dealing with pack animals, I was less of a target for bandits, no haggling for prices. I just took the package to its destination and then got paid. Being a courier was the best job I ever had, even if I had to do odd jobs to make ends meet sometimes."
The smile slid from his face. "I haven't delivered a package in years. The last thing I ever got paid to deliver was this." He tugged at the damaged poker chip that was dangling around his throat. "And someone tried to kill me over it. Benny, that sniveling little fu-" James grimaced and shook his head. "I got jumped and double-tapped." He tapped his temple as he spoke. Pyrrha's eyes widened. Sure enough, a pair of faint scars marked James just below his hairline. "It took me months to recover from it fully, but the whole time I was burning up a nasty fever. I wanted to hunt Benny down and return the favor, so I tore off to New Vegas."
He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Then I actually catch up to him. And somehow I found myself tangled up in a web of politics, battlelines, and a hundred different people wanting me dead. And every day I kept throwing myself deeper and deeper into it. Because the baggage I picked up came with some influences, some degree of respect, and an acquired skill set for shooting my way out of bad situations." He rubbed his temples. "Three years ago, before I got jumped, I thought I would just keep delivering packages until I got too old to do it anymore. I'd just find a nice place to settle down and wait for my body to give out. Instead, I've been spending my life fighting warlords, Raiders, criminals, and radicals."
"But you know the really ironic thing about it all?" he said, giving her a sardonic look. "I don't think I know how to stop. If I were to just hang up my helmet there'd be nothing but sleepless nights ahead of me. I'd lay awake all night asking 'what could I have done?' every time I hear about something going wrong. It's why I've been here for weeks and yet I'm already fighting the White Fang in addition to the marauders I was chasing in the first place. I wouldn't know how to stop pissing people off if the solution slapped me in the face."
He gave a long, heavy sigh. "So, no. I don't believe in destiny, I don't believe in long goals you spend your life working towards. Life throws you curveballs you never saw coming and your entire world can get turned upside down in a day. You have to adjust for that and make the most out of wherever you end up. I don't mean to sound cruel or cynical, but lifelong ambitions? The things we want the most? We rarely end up getting them."
A small smile blossomed on his face. "But we often end up finding tiny little things along the way. Precious things. Things we might've missed. Sometimes I really wish I was still delivering mail, but then I stop and tell myself something. It's hard and dangerous work that I'm doing. But I'm making a difference. I can't let a romanticized, idealized alternate path let me forget all the things I've done and the amazing people I've managed to meet. I never would've met someone as talented as you if I had just kept delivering mail."
"So. You're saying you left your destiny behind?" Pyrrha asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure what to think, the conversation had gone into unfamiliar territory for her. James was talking with a level of cynicism that she hadn't ever really seen before.
James nodded. "It's in a shallow grave in the Goodsprings cemetery. Destiny? The way you look at it? It's a nice idea Phyrra. But it doesn't hold up. Not from where I'm standing." Pyrrha nodded dumbly. This wasn't at all how she had been expecting this conversation to go. She had wanted to ask him about the choice regarding the Fall Maiden and how it related to her being a Huntress. She hadn't expected a world view that sounded so worn and battered.
"But what if there was a way I could fulfill my destiny? Immediately?" James's head tilted a bit to the side. "But...but at the cost of who I am?" How could she explain it to him? He had no idea about the Maidens. What they were. How it felt.
James spoke slowly, sounding as if he was picking every word with extreme care. "Define what you mean by who you are."
It was so hard to put it all into words. "Everything I've been working towards all these years. My identity. The concept of who I am, to myself and others." How was she supposed to be able to tell him without the proper context? The truth of the matter was just within grasp but she couldn't tell him. It was tearing her up inside.
There was a long hesitation before James answered. "Pyrrha. Let me put it this way. I am not the man I was three years ago." James, at that moment, looked very old. Pyrrha knew he was hardly young, but his age truly showed as he spoke. "I wasn't a stranger to violence, you don't live to your late 40s unless you can fight off a raid when you have to, but it wasn't my trade. It is now. It's part of life. Your sense of self and identity are always changing."
"Look, Phyrra, you're seventeen, right?" She gave a shallow nod. "You're still growing, still finding out who you are and your place in the world. I'm fifty-one and I'm still learning more about both. You and I are both going through trying times right now. Neither of us is going to come out of it the same people we were before. That's the nature of life and our line of work. Life is messy like that. We get tangled up in events we were never prepared for, have to make calls we don't have enough time for." He reached down and grasped at the poker chip hanging from his neck and gripped it until his hand turned white.
He took a shuddering breath. "You have to make a tough call about something, don't you? You've got a choice where you can change everything but you don't know if it's morally the right call. I can see it in your eyes." Pyrrha didn't speak, she didn't even nod or shake her head. Her throat was tight and she could feel tears welling up inside of her. She didn't think she could bear it if she started crying. "It's ok. You don't need to say anything," James said, his voice understanding. "I just want you to know that I know what you're going through. I've been there before. It just feels so unfair. You need more time, you don't fully understand what'll happen if you take the plunge but you're afraid of the potential consequences of passing it up. But you don't have enough information to weigh one against the other."
Yes, yes that did accurately describe how Pyrrha felt when Ozpin had presented her with her choice. Godlike power at the expense of another and no way to tell what devastation could be wrought if she abstained. "All I can say is this. Don't be so hard on yourself. You've done more than I ever would've expected from someone twice your age. I read Winter's report on the battle back in Vale. You took on an Aura empowered Centurion by yourself, and he had backup. Where I'm from, Centurions are the best of the best warriors out there, and you floored him. The whole time you forced the Legion to taste bitter irony too, considering their backward views on women."
"People with half the fiber you have are forced to make decisions like this every day," he said, his voice shaking. Unless Phyrra was mistaken, he was trembling ever so slightly. "People far less qualified than you ever were. You're not even eighteen yet and you're out there fighting for others. The fact that you're worried this much says a lot about you, that you'll put more thought into it than a crusty, dried-up old man ever would. It's gonna be tough, I won't sugar coat it. But you have to make the decision you think is best, no one else can make it for you. Because it's the right thing to do? Because it's your destiny? Whatever the reason, it needs to be your reason. No one else's. I can only give you advice."
Pyrrha spoke, her voice a strangled rasp. "How do you know which choice is the right one?"
James looked sadly at her. "You can never really know for sure," he said. "Sometimes you wonder if you made the right call. All you can do is do what you think is best. Even if it hurts."
Something inside Pyrrha broke. She leaned her head back and took a deep gathering breath in and then out. In and out. In and out. She fought the tears inside her with every ounce of her being, willing them, begging them to not come out. But it was too late. One was already trailing down her face. A second shortly joined it, followed by a third. She lowered her head, looking at James. He was standing still, holding his arms wide open.
Everything became a blur to Pyrrha, a whirlwind of emotion and movement. The next thing she could clearly comprehend was her burying her face in James's shoulder, wrapping her arms around him as the dam burst. Her cries were not deep and hard, the way she had expected them to be, but shallow and strangled. Despite this, the tears were now flowing freely, streaming down her face and into James's shoulder. He held her gently, one arm around her waist and the other gently rubbing the back of her head. "It's gonna be ok," he said softly. "You're not alone. You've got your team, your friends, and everyone on this base. All of us are behind you every step of the way."
The hand around her waist vanished and Pyrrha heard the sound of tapping on a scroll. Before she could say anything, the tapping stopped and his hand returned. For a while they stood there, Pyrrha's bottled up emotions pouring out of here while James silently comforted her. Eventually, her sobs dried up, going from gasps to small hiccups. A strange sense of relief washed over her. Not enough to remove the tension that had been building up in her over the past week, but enough to make it more tolerable. It was similar to the brief burst of euphoria that she experienced after her daily workout, an odd feeling that took the edge off of her discomfort.
"Life is tough, but I promise you whatever it is you're going through? You're up to the task," James said, releasing her as Pyrrha took a step back. He frowned. "You can't tell me what it is?" She shook her head. She wished she could. She wished she could tell Jaune, Nora, and Ren. "Ok. If you can't, I won't push you. Just remember, that even if you can't tell people, they're there for you."
"H-how do I know that I'm the right person for the job?" Pyrrha hiccuped. "How do I know that I can make the right choice."
"It's never that cut and dry," James said. "They never tell you that when you're growing up. They tell you that it'll all make sense one day. Everyone who says that to you is a liar. If anything it gets more nonsensical and confusing. Learning how to be an adult isn't getting all the answers, it just means becoming slightly better at navigating through the mess." He rubbed the back of the head. "This is all probably things you don't want to hear. But I tell you the nitty-gritty because I want you to know that I mean it when I say that I know you're up to it. Is there still a chance you might slip? Of course there is, no matter how qualified you are you can still make a bad call. But I'm going to tell you right now, you're being far too hard on yourself. You're in a difficult place, but you're going to handle it far better than most ever could. I can promise you that."
Pyrrha forced herself to take a deep breath. James's advice wasn't something she knew how to categorize. Blunt honesty came close, but there was a little too much encouragement in there for it to just be that. Whatever it was, it had certainly lodged itself in her head. "Uh, James, you wanted to see me?" Pyrrha nearly jumped out of her skin. Jaune was right behind them, looking confused. "You texted me?" What? How had he done that?
There was a flash of silver as James slipped a scroll into his pocket. "Talk to him," he whispered. "Make the first move. You won't regret it. You've got this. All of it." He leaned back. "Oh damn it, Jaune. I wanted to give you more sparring lessons but time got away from me. I really do need to head out with Winter for something. I'll be back in a few hours. You two take care." A smile flashed across his face as he popped into his room and emerged a few seconds later, the door closing behind him. "Later!" he said, waving as he left. Pyrrha stared dumbly at her as she left.
"Uh, what was that all about?" Jaune asked. "Why would he-Pyrrha? Have you been crying?" Jaune's face was suddenly plastered with concern. She nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. The stress of everything hadn't gone away. Salem, Maidens, Relics, Brothers, they all still weighed so heavily on her. But, for whatever reason, it felt a little bit more manageable. "Is there anything you need me to do?"
James's words to her flowed through her mind. It had to be her reason. Things were never clear cut. The amazing people you could meet along the way. She looked at Jaune. His blonde hair, his wide, confused blue eyes, his white armor, the jeans that really didn't go with it. She smiled, in spite of it all. "Just being around me helps." Jaune nodded awkwardly. He hesitated a few seconds. Then he abruptly lurched forward, approaching Pyrrha and giving her a clumsy hug. Pyrrha smiled as she gently returned it, closing her eyes.
Making the first move? She would think about it. Some other time. For the moment, this was enough. More than enough.
XXXXX
Author's Note: The next chapter will be shorter I said. It won't be nearly as long I said. Well, shows I can't trust a word I said. And I think it's clear I forgot how to write short chapters a long time ago. I wrote 25k chapter FFS. I had to cut it half and turn it into two separate chapters. The other chapter will be up some time later today, maybe tomorrow, you won't be waiting long either way.
I've come up with a plan to help keep my signature character bloat under control. Introduce characters without obligations for them to be main characters. That way you can take the spotlight off them, but still reintroduce them later. And yeah, I like Basil, but I can't make him a main character without things taking a step to the bloat that longtime readers of mine should be very familiar with. He is a character though, and I haven't written him utterly out of the story. This is just the point where his path and James's path diverge. They'll meet up again later. You'll see a lot more of that than my previous works. It lets me work with a wide variety of characters without the story collapsing under its own weight.
Also. It turns out that Atlas was right over Mantle. As in right above it. Atlas wasn't one big city divided between the floating upper class and a grounded lower class like a science-fantasy Blade Runner. I mean it is science-fantasy Blade Runner, but between two different cities as opposed to Atlas being divided in half and Mantle being a rust belted city elsewhere. And I've been writing this story with that in mind. Ugh. Oh well.
Just for the record, in case I didn't just make it clear, we're officially leaving established canon with the airing of volume 7. I've had plans for months, the better part of a year, where I was going to do this story. If I tried to stop to adjust to keep up with volume 7 and later, it'd rip the narrative I've been working on in half. The canon Winter Maiden will not be Wild Wild Evolution Winter Maiden, the same goes for the Summer Maiden. I might slip in bits and pieces of volume 7 and onward if I really like them AND I think I can make them fit. But from this point on out you can more or less consider A World of Wild Wild Evolution to be an AU fic. (Granted there is one theory of who the Winter Maiden is that has caught my attention, and if it turns out to be canon I'll happily chuck out my current plan. But only if it's that theory.).
I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Ryan Van Schaack, ChaosSpartan575, and LordofNaught for their amazing support.