The following is a non-profit, fan-made work of fiction. RWBY and Iron Man are the respective trademarked properties of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC and Marvel Entertainment, LLC. Please support their respective franchises and releases. This means I own jack, so don't sue me, it's all for fun. (And practice, I just wanna be a better writer.)
The Invincible Whitley Schnee
Chapter 21: What Comes Next?
September 1, 2008 KC
Mantle, Solitas
Graeme Street
7:55 PM
As she sat on the tailgate of an ambulance's opened MICU (Mobile Intensive Care Unit), Winter Schnee observed the haunting scene playing out before her in solemn silence. The frozen street that had been her battleground was now the site of an intensive clean-up. In the hour since Blizzard's defeat, the evening had started transitioning to nighttime. And in that time, the relief effort had commenced in earnest.
From all over Mantle, rescue workers and volunteers have been pouring into this devastated street. Armed with icepicks, shovels, and trawls, they divided into teams and scoured the frozen neighborhood, picking away at large ice blocks and plowing through tall snow mounds. Tireless were their efforts, working diligently well into the night, even after the sun had set, the whole area now illuminated by the bright, blinding floodlights scattered throughout it.
Watching all these people search for those in need, she wanted nothing more than to help. But other matters require her attention at present.
"Here you are, Major." A hand holding a cup came into her view. The aroma of hot chocolate quickly blew through her nostrils. She took the offered cup with a thankful smile and took a quick sip.
The taste of warm liquefied chocolate bombarded her taste buds, sending an almost euphoric jolt through her body. Even as a child, she loved the sweet and delectable taste of hot cocoa. But this cocoa paled in comparison to those her grandmother prepared. Whenever she and her siblings visited their grandmother, the old woman always greeted them with a hug and a steaming cup of hot cocoa for each of them.
Her nostalgic musings were cut short by the sound of crunching snow shuffling beside her. The specialist looked up from her mug and saw the grizzled face of Detective Flynt Coal, who sat in the spot next to her. She noted that instead of his typically tired glower, the experienced policeman's face had a small relieved smile.
"Enjoying the hot cocoa?" He asked the specialist.
"Immensely so," She replied before setting her mug aside. "Though I doubt you're here to discuss beverages. I assume you have news to share?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. We've done a headcount and I'm glad to say that we haven't suffered a single loss, barring a few wounded. And officers Ketch and Woo have been freed from their icy restraints and flown to the nearest hospital, getting treated for hypothermia and frostbite."
"Some of the best news I've received all day," She smiled in relief. She turned serious when she asked, "And what of Blizzard?"
The detective let out an exasperated sigh, "Hasn't spoken a single word since we've taken her into custody. Her crew's been giving us the silent treatment too. No matter what we say to them, they just keep their mouths shut. It really makes you wonder just how loyal these cons can be to their bosses."
"I don't believe their silence is a sign of loyalty, but rather fear." Winter opined with a scowl, "And I doubt Blizzard is the one they fear."
"And whom exactly do you think they're afraid of?" Coal asked, curious to hear what the Schnee suspected.
"The one holding Blizzard's leash, whoever they are." She answered, adding with a dreadful tone. "While their identity eludes me, I know for a fact that her employer has little compunction for collateral damage, given what they had planned for Blizzard."
The Detective grunted in agreement, "I agree with you on that, kid. I mean it takes a special kind of crazy to make someone an unwitting suicide bomber... and all just to kill one vigilante, too."
"Speaking of whom, have we found any trace of Iron Man?"
Coal shook his head, "None whatsoever. We set up a ten-mile perimeter and found nothing identifiable as remains, not even scraps. All I can say it that so long as there's no corpse found, Iron Man still walks among the living."
Winter frowned in disappointment. She didn't know what she was more upset about; that Iron Man had possibly died or that she failed to arrest him. Maybe it was a bit of both? The answer, much like the identity of Blizzard's benefactor/killer, eluded her.
Yet, there was a small part of her that felt... distressed about Iron Man's fate. That and worry. For some reason, she felt worried for a criminal's well-being.
But in the short moments she interacted with Iron Man, she felt that there was something familiar about him.
It's probably nothing, she reasoned as she downed more of her cocoa.
Whether Iron Man is dead was not her concern at the moment. The most pressing issue was getting answers out of Blizzard, no matter how long it would take.
SDC Global Headquarters
Jacques Schnee's Office, Top Floor
Typically, after a particularly hard day at work, Jacques Schnee would spend an hour in his office to decompress and collect his thoughts. Oftentimes, he would think about the people in his life and what they mean to him. And then he'd spent the very last minute of his ruminations cursing every single one of them for the sin of being in his life. His thoughts in recent days, however, have shifted from loathing lamentations to promising possibilities.
And the cause of this shift can be seen on the holographic screen projecting from his desk.
The businessman's eyes bored into the still image of Iron Man, drinking in the vigilante's armored form. From what he gleamed from the scarce videos of the vigilante that existed, Iron Man was indeed a mortal man. A man wearing the most incredibly advanced piece of technology the world had ever seen. And said technology had been created by an individual with no known ties to the military or a company. The fact that Iron Man didn't work for him was the most egregious disappointment.
Whoever this man is, he's truly a genius ahead of his time. He begrudgingly realized. I doubt even Arthur- rest his soul- or even Whitley could have built something like this.
Jacques doubted that the late Dr. Watts would have had any chance of replicating the technology. The man may have been an inspired scientist, but even he had his limits. And in spite of his son's intelligence, the man doubted the boy could build such an impressive weapon.
Of course, I could always call up Dr. Polendina... The businessman's bristled at the thought. Then again, Pietro had cost me a lucrative contract with that abomination of his. I need to find someone in the company who has the smarts to do this.
The CEO's musings were interrupted by the buzz of his intercom. He pressed the button and answered, "What is it, Potts?"
The voice of Pepper Potts cackled through the speaker. "Sir, Misters Stane and Fujikawa want to see you."
"Send them in." He ordered, ending the conversation.
The door opened, granting entry to the two men.
Obadiah was dressed in his favorite dark blue business suit, which was neatly pressed and free of wrinkles. The bearded bald man casually strolled into the room, acting as though he were someone visiting an old friend rather than his superior. Kenshiro followed closely behind the SDC CFO, dressed in a black suit, his greying hair combed back. The two men each took a seat in front of Jacques' desk.
"Obadiah, Kenshiro, to what do I owe this little visit?" The CEO inquired.
Fujikawa and Stane gave each other hesitant glances.
"Is there something wrong?" He asked impatiently.
Not one to keep people waiting, Obadiah spoke up. "We just got a call from another of our survey teams. Another dead end, I'm afraid."
Jacques bristled at the news, "Another one? That's the fifth time it's happened this year. We hear one little rumor about a possible deposit and we find nothing."
It was then that Kenshiro chose to speak, "It's not all bad, Jacques. Sure, we haven't been able to start a new strip-mine, but we did find a few smaller Dust veins. I'd say we found enough to last maybe a decade or so before they run out."
The CEO gave his financial head a skeptical glance, "And what numbers did you punch to reach that conclusion, Kenshiro? Need I remind you that your department is finance, not mining operations?"
"I'm only relaying what Mordecai told me." The old accountant replied. "But while we're on the subject of numbers, there's an important matter I wish to discuss with you."
Jacques didn't know what the old man wanted to discuss. From what he read, the numbers for the company's past fiscal year looked good. The value of their stocks had risen, people were buying more of their products, and they had just secured a lucrative transaction with Rand Industries. Other than the slight hiccup in finding new Dust deposits, just what else was there worth discussing?
"You're talking about your retirement, right?" Obadiah asked, surprising the Schnee patriarch.
Jacques knew Fujikawa was nearing retirement, but he didn't expect that the man would want to retire so soon. He had expected the old accountant to be around for at least another year. To know that wouldn't be the case was enough to make the SDC president happy. He wasn't going to miss the tired, old coot when he left, considering how he was often the single dissenting voice on the board. He affected a concerned tone and asked, "And what's brought on this talk, Kenshiro. Thinking of retiring early?"
The Kuchinashian accountant let out an exhausted sigh. "I don't have much time left. I want to enjoy the few years I have left and try to reconcile with Rumiko."
"I understand completely, Ken. If I had a chance to spend more time with Juliet, I'd take it." Obadiah looked to his employer. "I'm sure you'd do the same, right, Jacques?"
The CEO quickly replied, "Without Question."
The man's internalized answer was the opposite. Ugh, it honestly disgusts me to say those words. Just the thought of spending even a second with Willow is enough to make me puke.
Truthfully, he'd toss that drunken wretch to the curb if given the chance. But doing that wouldn't do his reputation any favors. His public image was stained enough already by that admittedly half-assed attempt to cover-up his son's kidnapping. In retrospect, he should have milked Whitley's captivity for all the sympathy it was worth.
The mustachioed man casted those thoughts aside as he spoke, "We went on a bit of a tangent there. Let's focus on the more pressing matter at hand, which is discussing Kenshiro's successor."
He looked to the man in question, "I assume you have a few candidates in mind?"
Outwardly, Jacques appeared interested in Fujikawa's proposed successors. Inwardly, he was dreading who those candidates might be. There was a stipulation in the accountant's original contract that prior to his retirement he'd personally select his successor. His late father-in-law had been the one who added that bit. Even in death, that idealistic old fool continues to be a pain.
"Actually, I have only one candidate in mind." Kenshiro replied with a smile. "The person I picked is someone I trust explicitly. They've been with the company for a long time and have proven many times to be honest, professional, and unwavering in their principles."
"And just who is this person you speak of?" Jacques asked impatiently.
Knock-Knock-Knock!
The three men looked to the door just as it opened. Standing there in the open doorway was one very exhausted Peppers Potts, her red hair amess and green eyes tired. Her right hand gripped the door knob like it was a stress ball. Cradled in her left arm were a stack of yellow envelopes, her hand holding a scroll put on hold.
Jacques growled and snapped, "Potts, what have I said about barging into my office unannounced?!"
"Okay, one, these two did exactly just that not a minute ago. Two, you told me not do it unless something urgent came up," She retorted. "And what's more urgent than these documents you need to look over?"
"Well, don't just stand there, bring them to me!" The CEO impatiently demanded, drawing sharp glares from his colleagues.
Jacques disregarded their glares as Pepper placed the envelopes on his desk. With her task completed, she promptly turned to exit the room, only to stop when Kenshiro called to her. "Actually, Pepper, could you stay? You might be interested in what I have to say."
An unamused Jacques asked his head accountant, "And just why would she be interested?"
"Well, it's only fair that my successor be present when we're discussing her."
The man's comment inspired varied reactions in those present. Pepper dropped her scroll in shock, her tired eyes widening and staring at Fujikawa like he had grown a second head. Obadiah raised an interested eyebrow, an amused and mischievous smile on his face. Jacques looked to be on the verge of a heart attack, given his shaking posture and twitching eyes.
Silence briefly overtook the room before a soft, rhythmic hum was heard. The source of the disturbance was the scroll in Obadiah's front chest pocket. The bald businessman took out his scroll and saw the caller ID. The man shot out of his chair and spoke, "Sorry, I've got to take this. Very important stuff, I assure you. We'll talk later, Jacques, and congratulations on the promotion, Pepper."
Not a word was said as Stane exited the room. When he had made his exit, those still within the room gazed at each other. There was a tension in the air so thick it could be cut by a knife. The source of that tension was the intense staring contest between Jacques and Pepper. The CEO gave his longtime and long-suffering assistant a heated glare that could melt Solitas. Pepper sent her employer a victorious smirk; the woman was glad that she's finally getting her due. Choosing to ignore the obvious hostility between the two, Kenshiro coughed into his fist to get their attention.
"Well, now that everyone with a stake in this matter is her, what say we get down to business," The retiring businessman declared. "So how about we all just talk. If any of need some time, just ask, I can wait."
Meanwhile, in an alleyway behind Polendina Pharmaceuticals...
Damn it, kid, just how long are you going to make me wait for you? James Rhodes thought as he rubbed his hands together for warmth.
An hour had already passed and Whitley Schnee has yet to return.
He stood alone as he kept watchful vigil for the boy's arrival, his stomach awash in dread and mind flooded with worry. Like so many people across the kingdom, he had seen the climactic battle between Iron Man and Blizzard; albeit from Whitley's perspective via the camera's built-in camera. He had watched everything unfold as it happened in real time, often providing the boy with much-needed advice on strategy.
And then the feed was lost, right as Blizzard's battery pack exploded. Since then, all they've received was static. The retired pilot hoped his young ward was all right.
He knew in his gut the boy wasn't dead. After everything the boy had endured, there was no way a crook like Blizzard would be the one to do him in.
But the probability that Whitley had been arrested terrified him; especially if the one making the arrest was his own sister. He can only imagine two outcomes to happen. The best case scenario was Winter simply tossing him into a jail cell. The worst case was the specialist bringing her brother to Ironwood, who'd force the boy to build an entire legion of Iron Men for Atlas.
He wouldn't put it past the general to do something like that.
Bzzzz-Bzzzz-Bzzzz!
Rhodes pulled out his scroll and looked at the screen. His eyes scrunched in worry as he read the name shown by the caller ID. Rather than his ward, the caller was none other than one of the boy's bodyguards and his current houseguest, Marrow Amin. The man took a deep breath and answered the call.
"Hello, Marrow, is something wrong?" He asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.
"Hi, Mister Rho- Er, Rhodey," the younger man corrected himself, much to his host's humor. "I'm just calling in to check on you and Mr. Schnee. It'd been several hours since you last called in and I was starting to fear something bad happened... Also, I wanted to know how long will you two be at Dr. Polendina's?"
The older man let out a faked, exhausted sigh before he answered, "We were planning on getting back hours ago, but we've been snowed in. Snow plows haven't made it yet, either. There's a chance we won't be back until tomorrow morning. The doctor offered to let us crash at his place for the night."
"Oh... well, that sucks," The specialist said awkwardly. "But, at least I know you and the kid are staying in the same place. Still, I have to ask, why couldn't I come with you? I mean, what kind of bodyguard am I if the body I'm guarding is somewhere else?"
"Whitley didn't think it was necessary, since it was just a check-up. He also wanted to stay conspicuous. And how are we supposed to be under the radar if we brought an obvious specialist with us." The businessman lied before adding somewhat truthfully. "He also thought you needed a break. So why not use the time you have left today to for some fun? I mean, you can watch TV, read a book, or play Begemmed or Irate Fowls? The sky's the limit."
"Well, I could do those things. But the wind knocked the tube out. The only books in this place are in your study, which is locked. And I don't have any games on my scroll because I refuse to enable the toxic mobile gaming industry with my money." Marrow explained. "Also, I could never get past level 10 on Begemmed."
"And going out is out of the question, considering what happened to us." The businessman added. "I don't think you can even order take-out with this weather."
He suggested to the younger man, "How about you call Flynt or Neon?"
"I've tried, but neither is answering... I think I'll just hit the hay, get some early rest." The specialist stated with a resigned tone. "Just call again when the kid's free to talk. I need to have a word with him about ditching his security detail."
Rhodey let out a small chuckle, "Copy that. In the meantime, just focus on relaxing. Goodbye."
He ended the call and returned his scroll to its prior location.
He returned his gaze to the darkened skies, searching for the telltale sign of repulsor rays. Suddenly, he heard the soft creak of a door opening, followed by the audible whines of gears and servos. He turned around and found not Iron Man, but the good doctor Polendina, sitting in his quadrupedal chair and dressed comfortably for the winter. Rhodey smelt the aroma of caffeine and saw the doctor held two mugs of steaming, hot coffee. The older man offered a cup to the café owner, who gladly accepted.
"Any sign of him yet?" The concerned doctor asked.
Rhodey shook his head, "No, not yet. It's been an hour and I'm starting to worry."
Polendina understood and empathized with his longtime patient's distress. Like Rhodes, he too was caring for a young life, related to him not by blood but a bond. But that bond can be a double-edged sword, as the doctor had come to realize in the past several months. Unlike him however, the youth under Rhodey's care was flying headfirst into danger on a whim.
And it won't be long before his daughter will be forced to do the same, what with the Vytal Tournament starting in two months. General Ironwood had been adamant that Penny be entered in the tournament. While he disagreed with the General's decision, he also knew he had no real say in the matter. He did find solace in the fact that she'll be part of a team.
Of course, he really didn't who her teammates would be.
"You know that I have a niece, right?" He heard the retired military man ask.
He looked to the man and nodded, "Yes. Her name is Ciel, from what I can recall."
"Yeah..." Rhodey took a quick sip of his coffee before saying. "She always wanted to be a hunter, you know, like her father?"
"Your brother-in-law was a Huntsman?" Polendina questioned in genuine surprise.
A somber but nostalgic formed on Rhodey's face, "Yeah, and a damn good one, too; In fact, my sister and I met him when he was attending Atlas, back when it was still called Alsius."
Bittersweet memories popped up in the man's mind. Dreading a trip down memory lane, he expelled those thoughts, dropping the smile and adopting a more solemn expression. "But I digress. Ever since Ciel told me she wanted to be a huntress, I've supported her every step of the way. I enrolled her in combat school, took her to hunter gyms, and even helped build her weapon."
He tightened the grip around his coffee mug. "But a small part of me wanted to try and persuade her from taking that path. The life of a hunter is a short and lonely one. Sure, some of them get the privilege of dying in their sleep at a ripe old age, but they die young most of the time."
The doctor stayed silent as his friend continued.
"I want Ciel to live a long, happy life; the kind of life that Jeanette and her husband should have had. The very idea of her fighting Grimm is scary and the thought of her dying alone in some place far away from home terrifies me. Instead, I just kept encouraging her to become a Huntress. Sometimes, I think there's something wrong with me."
"Or perhaps you knew she'd never be happy being anything else... whether you wanted to admit or not."
Rhodey blinked in shock at the doctor's words. A part of him wanted to retort, but he knew deep down that the man was right.
"Yeah, but now I'm having the same problem with Whitley. But the thing is, with Ciel, I know she'd never rush into danger on a whim. She's too obsessed with protocol to do that. But Whitley is a different story." He spoke after taking another sip, smacking his lips in appreciation of the tasted. "Damn, that is a fine cup of joe."
Polendina chuckled and said, "Coming from you, that's the highest praise imaginable. But I prefer the coffee at your shop... but I believe you were about to say something about young Whitley?"
Rhodey let out an exhausted sigh, "Yeah, the thing about Whitley and this vigilante business is a lot more complicated. To him, being Iron Man isn't some thrill or hobby. It feels like an itch to him, some kind of obligation he can't refuse. I tried to stop him, but that didn't help anything."
His mouth fell into a rueful frown. "You should've seen him when that happened. His nightmares got worse; he was losing sleep and couldn't even eat. He'd flip between moods in conversations. It was probably the PTSD, I understood that, but I knew in my gut that not being Iron Man was killing him inside. A part of me worries that the boy might be suicidal and Iron Man is some kind of coping mechanism."
"I can see how that would worry you, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe Iron Man is Whitley's true self?" Polendina suggested to Rhodey's stunned confusion. "He hasn't fully told me about what happened to him during his captivity, but I know enough to see that being Iron Man is much more than some dangerous coping mechanism. I think Whitley sees Iron Man as a way for to be his truest self."
Rhodey wanted to hear more of what the doctor was saying, but then he heard the soft roar of repulsortech thrusters above him. He looked up and saw two bright circles of light in the sky, hovering several feet above him, and slowly descending down towards the men. Soon, a familiar form could be seen, which landed right in front of the two men. Rhodey winced upon seeing the state of the armored figure before him.
Though the damage wasn't as excessive as the last time, it was clear Iron Man had been put through the ringer. The entire front portion of his armor, from head to toe, was covered in soot with much of the outer coating had been burnt off. The sooty metal plating had noticeable dents, scratched, and some embedded shrapnel. When the two men looked the armored hero in his concealed face, they noticed one of the helmet's optics flickering. They couldn't help but wonder about what had happened to him after the newsfeed was lost.
The boy spoke through the suit's damaged speakers, "Mission Accomplished..."
Suddenly, the vigilante fell to the ground on his back.
Alarmed, Rhodey cried out, "Whitley!"
He dropped his mug, which shattered on the cement, and rushed to check on the young man. Polendina followed suit, directing his chair to the vigilante's right. Rhodey, in a frantic panic, tried prying the faceplate off of the helmet, but to no avail. Polendina tried to search for some kind of lever or switch that could free the boy from his armor. As both men struggled to save the young man, the undamaged optic lit up, and a different but familiar voice spoke through the speakers.
"Hey, chill yourselves, old dudes. My boy's fine, just resting his crazy little head." VIC explained.
The faceplate promptly retracted into two separate pieces, showing the face of a sleeping Whitley Schnee. The boy, unlike his armor, appeared to be fine. Though they were sure he might've received some slight bruising from Blizzard.
Both men let out relieved sighs.
"VIC, open up the armor. Let's get him inside before someone sees us."
Meanwhile, in the Mandarin's inner sanctum...
It was taking all of the Mandarin's patience for him to rein in his thunderous temper.
All he did was sit upon his throne, keep his armored body still, and take one deep breath after another. The absence of his subordinates helped to calm him, for he would've killed one or two to satiate his rage. But all those deceased minions had deserved death for failing him. None of his followers had disappointed him. Therefore, their lives will be spared.
But he'd be lying if he said he didn't say he felt like snapping some necks right now.
"My lord, I bring news!"
The armored tyrant gazed shadowed court and heard the sound of rapidly shuffling feet. From out of the darkness, a figure approached him, his form somewhat visible under the dim candle light. It was one of his shadow warriors. This one was garbed in the same form-fitting, tactical black garb worn by all in his corps of fighters. He saw that the man's white mask, modeled after a classical Jing opera mask, was bare of any distinguishing marks save for the bloody red paint surrounding his eye holes. This detail informed him the man before him was one of the lower-ranked members, a novice.
The novice knelt before his leader. "My liege, I bring word of Randall Macklin's whereabouts."
From behind his mask, the Mandarin's lips stretched into an eager grin. Finally, something was going right for him today.
"Speak, warrior." He ordered the man.
"He has been spotted heading to the southern Aerodrome. We believe he intends to flee to another kingdom." The warrior reported. "The Master has already dispatched Razor Fist to intercept him. Macklin will not live-"
"NO!" The Mandarin interjected, spooking the messenger with his thunderous tone.
Adopting a calmer tone, the armored criminal spoke. "Tell Razor Fist to bring Macklin to me, alive."
The messenger swallowed a lump in his throat and inquired in trepidation, "B-But why, my lord? Macklin disobeyed your instructions. Such betrayal must be paid with his blood."
"Yes, it is true Macklin betrayed me. I asked for an immediate detonation instead of a timer." Mandarin replied, "But his skills far outweigh the price on his head. He will pay for his deception and he shall do so in service to me."
"But that is not the most pressing concern." The crime boss claimed, changing the subject. "Iron Man has become a threat. His continued interference threatens my plans. Blizzard's defeat shows that we require stronger measures against that metal menace."
He gave the messenger a stern gaze, "Alert my enforcers. Those currently on assignments are to continue with their missions. As for those who are not, summon them. It's time I put together my war council."
The messenger bowed his head in acknowledgment of the order, before retreating back into the darkness. Alone once more, The Mandarin was left to his own devices. He had another matter to attend to, one that required a few scroll calls.
He rose from his throne and went to the elevator. Before entering the lift, he willed his armor away. He can't run the risk of somebody outside of the organization seeing him in that state. Now within the box, he pressed in his destination. The lift jolted to life, rattling the carriage. The trip didn't last long, as he found himself within his office once more.
Taking a seat behind his desk, Zhang Li pulled out the hidden scroll built into it. Quickly, he typed in a number and held the device to his ear. He heard a faint ringing before a voice came through.
"Hello, Lord Mandarin. Before you ask, yes, I know why you've called."
Zhang smirked, "Nothing gets past you. I suppose I should've known that about you by now, Mr. X"
*line break*
Meanwhile, inside Pietro Polendina's Secret Laboratory...
Sitting at a small workbench, with one hand hovering over a laptop's keyboard, Whitley Schnee gazed tiredly at the thick vanilla folder resting upon its surface. Written upon its cover in thick black ink was a single word, "Blizzard".
The young man had learned an important lesson following his first bout with Blizzard. To defeat one's enemy was to know them. Whenever he wasn't working on the Mark 3, he used his time to build a file on the cryokinetic criminal. To his surprise, the internet had had a plethora of information on his foe. His sources varied in both length and credibility, the highest tier being the actual police case file and the lowest, social media postings.
And discovering Blizzard's true identity added another layer to the already thick folder. So much in fact, that he had to start a second volume. And to his shock, there were more things written about Donna Gill (Formerly Shapanka) than there was about her alter ego. Combing through twenty decades of information painted a rather shocking yet tragic picture about the newly incarcerated bank robber.
Life had not been kind to Donna Gill. Born to two brilliant and successful scientists, yet possessing a mind just as incredible, the young woman had a promising future ahead of her. She had been a model student, with high marks in all of her classes. Though gifted academically, Gill still found time to work on her physical health. The young woman had been a typical law-abiding citizen.
Until at some point in her sophomore year of college, her parents got involved with Justin Hammer. He didn't know the exact details, but according to a police report, both Greg and Mary Shapanka were caught in a horrific accident while at work. When the dust had settled, Mary Shapanka was rendered comatose and her husband lost his job at Hammer Industries. There weren't much else he found regarding the accident.
Given that he knew what Justin Hammer was really like, it wouldn't be a stretch to say there was more to this incident. Two lives destroyed by a horrendous accident and it all happened at a Hammer facility? There would have been a media blitz. Instead, all he found was a ridiculously short police report and a few assorted newspaper stories.
But he found plenty of accounts relating to Gill's life after the incident.
Gill dropped out of college and her life quickly spiraled out of control. Not long after, the young dropout was arrested for drunken disorderly, assault, and attempted robbery. She often spent a few months behind bars before being released, only to wind up there again days later. And she had made quite a name for herself in underground fighting, if what he read from her case file was any indicator. That part of her life was known thanks to informers who had watched her matches or used chatrooms on the dark web.
The paper trail ended about a year ago, after she had been arrested for starting a bar fight.
And some time during that year-long gap she decided to build a weaponized armor and rob banks. And she did so under the command of the one who orchestrated the Hammer Train incident.
"Such a tragedy..."
The boy turned and saw a somber looking Rhodey standing beside him reading over his shoulder. Situated next to him was Doctor Polendina, who also had a melancholy expression on his face.
Polendina shook his head, "That poor girl. She had such a promising future, only for it all to be lost to tragedy."
"It's a shame, all right. I can't help pitying her..." Rhodey glumly remarked.
"I sure as hell don't."
The three stared at the helmet situated behind the helmet. After exiting the armor, Whitley disconnected the headgear and set it aside for later inspection. However, he had forgotten to transfer a certain AI from the helmet and into his computer. And said artificial intelligence had his own feelings regarding Blizzard.
When he realized he was being stared at, VIC spoke. "She still tried to off us and your sister. As far as I'm concerned, that lady is one frigid BIT-"
Whitley slammed his fist on the helmet, causing its optics to flicker. Once they had returned to normal, the AI meekly said. "I'll be good."
Despite his verbose language, Rhodey can't argue the sentiment behind VIC's statement. But he still didn't know the young vigilante's feelings on the matter. He looked to his young ward and asked, "What do you think about all this?"
Whitley took a moment to consider the man's question.
Before learning more about Donna Gill, the boy would have been quick write her of as just another criminal. But after reading about her life, both the good and bad, he found it difficult to simply condemn her. And then he thought about the similarities between him and her. She too came from a prominent family, born into favorable conditions that guaranteed a successful life.
Until tragic circumstances sent their lives diverging off the paths set for them by their families.
"It doesn't matter how I feel about this." Whitley solemnly spoke. "Do I sympathize with her? Yes. Hell, I can understand why Gill did what she did. But the minute she chose to involve innocent people was when she lost my sympathy. Everybody suffers, but to use their tragedy as justification to hurt people is the mark of a weak person."
"And I suppose you consider yourself to be the stronger person?" Doctor Polendina asked.
The boy shook his head, "No. What I'm doing doesn't make me inherently superior. If I were, I'd be doing much more than just flying around in a metal suit beating up people. Sure, they're not good people, but they're still people. If I really were the better person, then I'd be doing more to help people outside of the suit."
The doctor gave the boy and understanding nod, while Rhodey looked at Whitley in a new light. Given what he's done as Iron Man, it would have been reasonable for many to assume that the young man considered himself to be morally superior. Instead, the youngest Schnee lamented that he could only do so much when in the suit. He even regretted that he wasn't doing more to help others as himself.
He was sure Whitley's family would have been shocked by the boy's humility.
"But I digress. Right now, the only thing I'm concerned about is finding out who held Blizzard's leash." Whitley said as he pulled up a file on his computer. "So, can I please have some time to myself? I've got hours of clues and data to sift through."
Rhodey frowned at the boy's words, but he knew any attempt forcing the vigilante to relax was futile.
"Just make sure you're asleep by ten. Pietro was kind enough to let us wait out the snowstorm at his place, so you can at least thank him by getting some rest." The businessman told the boy.
His request was met with an acknowledging nod. Satisfied, Rhodey chose the moment to prepare for bed. He excused himself from the workshop and quietly slipped away, closing the hidden passage on his way out. As soon as the man was gone, Whitley looked away from the computer to the still present doctor. "Should we be worried about Penny waking up and seeing this?"
The good doctor chuckled and humorously remarked, "Oh, there's no need to worry. Penny's already recharging her batteries for tomorrow."
Whitley nodded, missing the hidden meaning behind the old man's words. Penny Polendina had indeed already turned in for the night, having plugged herself into her recharge berth. Pietro had no worries about her waking up, considering her operating system was currently downloading the latest updates. But the boy didn't need to know that.
Eventually, the time came for the doctor to retire for the night. With a quick wave and some encouraging words, he bade his young guest a good night. Whitley spent much of his time recording what he found into Gill's file, all while forming a several theories behind her benefactor's identity. He knew he had to start an archive as some point to keep track of everything he's learned so far.
But so far, the only clue he had regarding this mastermind was the dagger he had found stabbed into the train's control panel. He had made the right call taking a photograph of that weapon. Once he was back in his own room at Rhode's place, he'll properly begin searching for more clues. Maybe he can find an expert on weapons who can help identify the type and make of the dagger. But he knew that he had to bring this secret criminal empire down soon before even more people died.
And who knows? Perhaps by defeating this criminal mastermind, he'll be one step close to discovering who had set up his kidnapping.
Only time can tell.
Meanwhile, within the back of an MMPD Prison Van...
In the hour since her arrest, Donna Gill had not uttered a single word. She kept her silence when she was handed her orange jumpsuit. She made no attempt to verbally protest her being cuffed. The young woman didn't even try and taunt the six-man security team that had escorted her from jail.
And she sure wasn't going to say anything after boarding the armored van currently carrying her to her new home at the kingdom's more secure prison. She sat quietly in the padded space behind the van's cabin, her body fastened by a seatbelt with her arms and legs chained to the ground. The only movements she made were the occasional shakes caused by the rocking of the van. A small part of her was pleased to know that the police considered her a threat without her equipment.
The only complaint she had was her traveling companion. Seated across from her on the metal bench opposite hers was one of Mantle's "finest". The officer was decked out in full tactical gear and armed with an assault rifle; their face obscured by the black visor of their helmet. Such an appearance would have invoked a feeling of dread in a prisoner. But for her, it was more annoyance than fear. There was also the fact that he hadn't said a single word.
If she were being honest with herself, the silence was what unnerved her.
Now fed up with the silence, Gill spoke up. "Are you gonna just sit there and stare at me like a creeper all day? Can you say something, at least? Don't care if it's a word or a sneeze, so long as I can hear something other than this creaking metal can."
The officer made no visible reaction.
Gill huffed in annoyance, "Really, not even gonna dignify that with a shake of the head? I know you were probably ordered to not engage with the quote - unquote, dangerously unhinged suspect. A completely unfounded statement, by the way; I'm just dangerous, not unhinged."
Again, there was no response from the officer.
Having realized she was in a one-sided conversation, the felon let out a resigned sigh and remarked. "You know, I don't know who I hate more, you or Iron Man. And given that I've already blown to scrap, things aren't looking good for you."
Suddenly, the officer placed his rifle on their lap. Before Gill could ask the man was doing, the officer snaked their hand behind their chest armor. She watched as her guard's hand moved behind their armor, as though rummaging for something. But what would a cop hide on their person under all that armor?
Donna felt a cold chill run down her spine as she began to panic. Within her mind, she came to a horrifying conclusion.
Is this guy gonna kill me!?
The frightened woman started fidgeting, her shackled arms and legs struggling in vain to escape their confinement. But her futile efforts were not fueled by that instinctual need to survive. No, she was more than ready to die. If she was going to die, she'll be going out in a blaze of glory. There was no way she was going to let some arrogant pig ice her like some punk. She respected herself too much for that to happen.
"Would you kindly stop resisting, Ms. Gill? It wouldn't bode well for your trial if you attempted to escape custody."
The woman ceased all movement, her body stiff as a board upon hearing that familiar and menacing baritone. Just hearing that voice put the fear of the gods in her. She wasn't afraid to die. But she was terrified of the man that just spoke to her. This man can and would kill her. Her idea of a perfect death was to go out guns blazing, but she always thought it'd be quick.
But she knew that if the Mandarin ever got his hands on her, her death would be slow and painful. Death didn't scare her, but her last few hours being spent in horrific, agonizing pain?
That terrified her like no other.
But how was he speaking to her now?
"Look at me when I'm addressing you." She turned her head to follow the sound.
To her surprise, her silent guard had pulled out not a concealed weapon, but a scroll. The "officer" held the device in his hand, the screen facing her, showing a shadowed figure on it. The shadows were intimidating, but the glowing eyes were terrifying. What's worse was that she couldn't tell if he was angry or not.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Donna Gill acknowledged her benefactor. "Lord Mandarin, to what do I owe this unexpected but totally welcome meeting? Also, how are you doing this?"
"The gentleman sitting before you is on my payroll, as well as the driver. But they are irrelevant. I simply wish to discuss business with you, Ms. Gill. To be more precise, I wish to discuss the completion of your contract for services rendered." The Mandarin replied in an uncharacteristically calm tone.
The surprised woman blinked confusedly at the criminal mastermind's words and tone of voice. In the moments when she interacted with the Mandarin, the man had always been curt and tended to project an aura of superiority. Now, he was acting like a businessman finishing a simple transaction. But she had a feeling in her gut there was more to this meeting than just ending their business with each other.
Of course, she also wanted to file a small complaint to her soon-to-be-former boss.
"Completion of contract... That's a pretty pretentious way of saying you're cutting off loose ends. Then again, I probably should've taken the hint when you turned me into a mobile explosive." She spoke casually, in spite of the fear she felt. "I'm not complaining. To be honest, that's a pretty badass way to go out. Better to burn out then fade away, I always say. But I don't appreciate is being kept in the dark about it."
"And I take it I have Macklin to thank for the bomb?" She rhetorically asked. "I mean, he's the only other person who's worked on my suit besides me."
"Yes, I instructed Mr. Macklin to install an explosive into your suit's battery pack... the money helped, too." Mandarin admitted without shame."However, I had requested an immediate detonation. Instead, he set up a timed explosion, defying my orders. I believe he was trying to give you a chance to escape... all while sneaking off with the money."
"As you know, I am not the type of to take such a betrayal lying down. Naturally, I've had the situation remedied."
Gill felt a surge of anger upon hearing that. Macklin may have betrayed her, but he still tried giving her a chance to escape. Admittedly, she felt somewhat conflicted about him, not knowing whether she wanted him dead or not.
The only way she can figure things out was to keep him alive... at least, for now.
"You leave Macklin alone! He was only acting out of survival!" She demanded. "I may have a death wish, but I don't wish death on anyone... except for those who deserve it."
"You are referring to Justin Hammer, correct?"
"Yes... you can also include the flying metal douche, too. Thankfully, I just scratched him off that list." She remarked with a satisfied smirk.
"Until I see a molten metal cadaver, I'm not convinced." The crime boss told the prisoner. "And as for you, dear Blizzard; your services are no longer required... at least, for the moment. Typically, this would entail termination, both professionally... and quite literally."
"Despite your recent failures, I still recognize you as a valuable asset to my organization. Until such time I require your skills again, you shall reside at Atlas Penitentiary. All I ask is that you refrain from speaking about our arrangement during your incarceration."
Donna didn't give her answer much thought. What she did think about were three people, two of whom were important to her. The other person was Macklin. As for her crew, she needn't worry about them, as they had sworn to protect whatever secrets she had. But before she could agree to the Mandarin's proposal, she had to be sure those she cares about will be cared for.
"Before I agree to this, I need to know if my parents will be taken care of." She asked her soon-to-be-former employer.
"Your father has received a very lucrative job offer from Yashida Industries in Mistral. Complete with transferring your mother to one of the kingdom's best hospitals." He replied, adding. "And your arrest will not impact their prospects. Not without Yashida's CEO receiving a call from yours truly."
She sighed in relief, glad to know her parents won't suffer the fallout of her actions. "And what about Macklin?"
"Mr. Macklin has already been remanded to me. His engineering prowess is far too valuable an asset to lose."
She had mixed feelings regarding her former partner's status. She still had to sort how she feels. While she was relieved to know her parents will be safe and that Macklin's fate was sealed, there was still one thing she was worried about. Other than the Mandarin, there was only one other person she feared. The very individual who had brought her to Mandarin.
"One more thing..." She asked in trepidation. "Has our mutual friend said anything?"
"If you are referring to Mr. X, I can assure you there is nothing to worry about."
Later that night at the Rhodes Residence...
Without the internet and cable television, Marrow had to find alternative means of entertainment. With Rhodey's study locked, the specialist had no access to the man's personal library. He had no gaming apps on his scroll, for he refused to feed the toxic abomination that was the mobile gaming industry. Also, he was sure those apps would send his personal info to other companies. He did have quite the extensive music library, but he had unfortunately lost his headphones. Listening without them just didn't feel the same to him.
He feared that he'd spent the day lounging about in abject boredom.
But then he remembered Rhodey had a substantial collection of DVDs in the main living room. He decided then and there that he'll treat himself to a small movie marathon. He popped up some popcorn, went into his makeshift theater, and picked out a few titles from his host's cinematic library. He started by watching the classic supernatural comedy "Spiritsnatchers". Next, He relieved his childhood with a nostalgic viewing of "A Toy's Tale". After that, he indulged his craving for excitement with the classic action film, "Try Hard".
And now he was on his last movie. The final film he had chosen for his binge was one that catered to his more sentimental, sensitive side. The choice he went with was the epic romance and disaster film, "Titania". It was also secretly one of his favorite movies.
"Oh, Jake, Thorn," He whimpered in tears. "No matter how many times I've seen it, it's always heartbreaking!"
He was watching the scene where Thorn was forced to let go of the now-dead Jake. As he watched the young artist's frozen corpse sink into the abyss, so too did his heart. It didn't take long for the tears to start falling. Oh, if only there was something that could break him of this heartache.
Knock-Knock-Knock!
He jumped in his seat, shocked to hear knocking at the door this late at night. Wiping his tears with his sleeve, the specialist stopped the film and made his way to the front door. He opened it, allowing a gust of the cold Solitan air to blast into his body. He was shocked to find someone at the door. The visitor wasn't tall, their head barely reaching his chest, and was dressed in a thick layer of winter clothing. In their hands they carried two heavy looking travel bags. Though snow-coated goggles, the unknown figure glanced up at his face. Imagine his shock when they dropped the bags and suddenly saluted him
Shock quickly became confusion when the figure tried to speak through the scarf covering their face.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? Maybe without the scarf muffling your mouth?"
The figure nodded and pulled the scarf down, revealing an unblemished, dark-skinned jawline. The visitor spoke again, revealing they had a youthful, feminine voice. "I apologize for my late arrival, sir. I'm afraid the storm had slowed my transport."
"Uh, yeah, sure... I'm sorry, but who are you?" Marrow asked, confused by the young woman's apology. "Also, I didn't know I was receiving a guest. If someone tried to call me, well, I guess the storm messed up their signal."
"Surely, General Ironwood informed you that four people were assigned to your team. I am the third to be chosen. I was picked for my efficiency and detailed knowledge of the area." The mysterious woman spoke as she removed the goggles, revealing her sapphire blue eyes.
Now that he had a good look at her face, Marrow was able to deduce that she was teenager, no older than Flynt and Neon. He had known since the mission began that he was to supervise a team of four students. For some reason, the other two members of the team were prohibited from joining them earlier. Still, he had yet to learn who their fourth comrade would be.
But he definitely knew who this was.
With another salute, the huntress-in-training introduced herself, "Ciel Soleil, reporting for duty, sir."
Hello, everyone, Nacoma here. First off, I'm not dead. Second, I want to apologize for taking so long. You see, Life once again got in the way. I got a new job and I'm seeing a therapist for stress and depression. Don't worry, it wasn't severe, but whenever I get into that kind of mood, my productivity drops. And so I rushed this chapter to completion.
Of course, I'm not satisfied with how the chapter turned out. So I made the following decision. Next month, I will release an extended version of this chapter, while releasing two new chapters in July!
As for my other stories, I hope to publish another chapter of Assassin's Creed: Revenants next month as well. My Ghostbusters/MHA story is still being written.
I also like to announce I have another story in the works, one that people have been requesting for a while.
It's titled "Something in The Way", a story in which Whitley becomes none other than the Batman... but not immediately, because I thought it be fun to explore his journey to becoming the caped crusader (Which starts around RWBY Volume 1).
Until then, stay safe out there and I hope you enjoyed this chapter (Which will be improved upon).
Supplementary Note: 7/28/2022
I am sorry for not meeting the deadlines I set for myself. Know that it was a series of circumstance beyond my control that contributed to this blunder. I set a goal in mind, challenged myself to meet it, only to lose just half-way through. It is this that I must apologize for and I hope I can only improve from here on. But keep in mind this one undeniable fact:
I WILL NEVER STOP WRITING THESE STORIES.
I have invested far too much of my time and imagination to just up and quit. And it would be unfair to you to leave these stories unfinished. But I am aware many of you have been anxious to hear some kind of update, which is why I have typed this brief message. The fact that I greatly dislike writing things like this speaks volumes of how much I want to put your minds at ease.
Firstly, I have decided to set up a proper schedule, one that is realistic and agrees with my busy schedule. Secondly, I will endeavor to write 1,000 words a day for each chapter before they're released. Finally, I plan to revise previous chapters, to improve upon their quality.
And so, I present to you the status of the next chapters:
The Assassin's Creed: Revenants Chapter 4 (Current word count: Approx. 2000/5000)
To be released August 6th, 2022.
The Invincible Whitley Schnee Chapter 26 (Current word count: Approx. 100/7000)
To be released August 20th, 2022.
The Invincible Whitley Schnee Chapter 27 (Current word count: 0/?)
To be released September 3rd, 2022.
The Assassin's Creed: Revenant's Chapter 5 (Current word count: 0/5000)
To be released September 17th, 2022.
The Invincible Whitley Schnee Chapter 28 (Current word count: 0/?)
To be released September 17th, 2022.
Something in The Way [Whitley-Centric Batman/ Rwby story] (Current word count: 0/?)
To be released October 31st, 2022.
Untitled Whitley-centric Fairy Tail/ Rwby story
Release date yet to be determined.
Something Strange (Ghostbusters/MHA story)
This story is currently on Hiatus.