Discussion on canon Ironwood here – skip if not interested – don't worry, the chapter itself is still 8,600 words ignoring all this

Since a few people asked about my comment on Ironwood's motives being paper-thin, I'll explain briefly (lol) my point of view here. I don't disagree "shooting into space" as a viable plan to escape the Grimm, but I meant that his motivations for settling on that plan right now were weak. That's the kind of plan you take when all hope is lost, there's no chance of survival and the world is utterly doomed. I'm reminded of an old VN called Muv-Luv which had a similar premise, except in that the humans want to flee because, like, 99% of the population is dead, they're losing near every battle, the EU has been sunk, America is in ruins and only a few struggling countries are left and even then, it's called their FIFTH plan. They exhausted four other plans to try and fight the aliens before deciding to flee the planet on an ark and abandon loads of people to die. That story paints a much grimmer world too, where martial law is normal and people live crammed shoulder to shoulder to survive. There's even a scene where it's revealed a story on the news about a dog braving the aliens to find his owners is propaganda because there's so little food that no one but royalty can own a pet. Any and all animals not integral to survival had to be abandoned and have been slaughtered by the aliens long ago, who hate all life not just humans.

Now let's compare that to RWBY. The Grimm are a threat, true, but not so much that the kingdoms haven't survived and done well for themselves for hundreds of years. They're doing so well they have loads of little villages and defended outposts like Argus, along with fun little tournaments every other year. They also have huntsmen, who have proven very successful against Grimm. Atlas also has a huge military that is exceptionally advanced and is likely to only get more so while the Grimm stagnate. You could argue the disaster of V3 made Ironwood believe this the only path, but you must remember that V3 was only so bad because they let the robots get hacked. Install some new firmware, guard your control panel a little better than letting Neo take it on her own, and that doesn't happen. Imagine having just ONE huntsman or huntress to guard it. Just one. You smash the Grimm back with your robot army with no problems.

Add onto that, Ironwood is supposed to be a good military leader and should therefore be aware of what they can and can't fight (and is then proven wrong because apparently a group of children out of Beacon know what Atlas can fight better than its own commander can) and you have a situation where Ironwood's plan might make sense "logically" but doesn't make sense in the context of how Remnant is faring. I'd accept it being their final plan, the fall-back should they lose a huge war and the human race be threatened with extinction, but all they've done is lose Beacon – and not even to Grimm. They lost it to one woman, some White Fang and their own shoddy software. Ozpin is back, they have the relics and some maidens, Salem is a threat sure but has been a threat for ages now and humanity has only been getting stronger the more time they have, but apparently it's all doomed.

"Welp. Time to flee the planet!"

"Sir, isn't this a little extreme? It's one academy, and we were mostly responsible for it falling. We have the world's largest military, excellent huntsmen and are in possession of one of the four Relics and a maiden-"

"Nope. Flee the planet. We failed once. Time to abandon the whole world."

I get that people will say he was "manipulated into it" but his Semblance is literally supposed to protect against that and allow him to make cold, calculated decisions. Well, his decision was cold, sure, but it wasn't very calculated. That's what I meant by paper-thin motivations. The decision itself makes sense as a fallback but implementing it when and how he did was poorly motivated and didn't make much sense. Also consider that Atlas going into space means what, an army and some huntsmen? Where are the botanists, the farmers, etc? is that even a sustainable colony you're sending up? How will food be produced?

Remnant just isn't depicted as the kind of doomed world that would necessitate such a plan. Fifteen-year-old children can rip through 10 or more Grimm in one swing of a scythe; people feel safe enough to live in villages far away from the cities; Taiyang and the family literally live in the wilderness surrounded by these so-called death world monsters; the laws are open and democratic and don't hint at many emergency measures (even if Atlas put itself in lockdown and later martial law) and even Mt Glenn only fell because of human intervention from Merlot, not from the Grimm themselves or the doomed nature of mankind. I mean, they shoot their children into a forest full of Grimm for a training exercise, and those children treat it as a laugh. This obviously isn't Arrakis or Catachan or Mad Max world. People are living mostly fine on Remnant.

But no. One bad fight at Beacon because Atlas mucked up and got outsmarted, a few negative interactions later where again Atlas is outsmarted by Tyrian of all people, and it's time to haul ass into space and leave the human race to die.

I mean, all the bad stuff that happens to Atlas is also caused mostly by Tyrian. I.e. Ironwood wants to flee Remnant not to escape the Grimm or Salem, but because Cinder and Tyrian are too hard to deal with. Really!? Really!? Is your military really that useless? Even the disaster at the end where Mantle and Atlas do fall is again all from human intervention. It's Ironwood and his bomb, and Watts and Tyrian for taking advantage of it. The Grimm and Salem might as well have been spectators. You can't jet into space to escape your own species lol. Atlas' problem isn't fighting Grimm and Salem, it's in having no decent security and apparently not being able to protect their IT systems. Ironwood should be firing his IT Department into space, not himself.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.


Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 6


It was a full week before Jaune was able to see the therapist that had been promised. There had been too much to do, too many introductions, hospital visits and more, and he hadn't exactly been quick to remind anyone or ask for it. In the end, it was General Ironwood who sought him out, informed him that an appointment had been made and offered to escort him there. During his free time no less. Jaune tried not to feel upset about that when this was both for his sake and something important. Plus, he hadn't even had free time before Ironwood stepped in.

The inner corridors of Atlas had started to become somewhat recognisable to him. He didn't wander around much, and never alone. He'd be shadowed by someone wherever he went. A member of the Arc-Ops was never too far away. A lot of the time it was Elm, who would fill the walk with chatter and stories, or sometimes Tortuga who would try and get him to laze around or play a boardgame. Other times it would be Harriet who seemed angry to even know him, or Clover who it always felt like tried too hard to be likeable. Vine was somewhere in the middle, professional enough to make it clear they weren't friends, but polite enough not to make Jaune feel like a burden. General Ironwood had made it clear this was a private matter however, and he was trusted to take Jaune out alone – something that not even the councilmembers were allowed to do.

Atlas was larger than just the school – there was a barracks, a military base, hangars and effectively a small city living inside the floating island. He was taken away from all of those and to the upper levels, past several infirmaries and wards and toward what Ironwood told him was an entire mental health and wellbeing section.

"There's no shortage of stress and pressure in the military," he explained, "and no less in a school for huntsmen either. Sometimes it's because of a decision you made, the change in lifestyle or the loss of squad or teammates. Whatever the case, we have therapists on hand and I can guarantee many of our students and soldiers have made use of them. You shouldn't feel the odd one out for coming here."

He got it, and he felt a little bad for having insulted the idea before. It just didn't feel right to admit he needed help. Wasn't it better to get over it yourself? Obviously, he didn't mean if someone really needed help or went through something horrible, but just feeling tired from being overworked? That didn't feel like it justified someone's intervention.

The office he was brought into was a small, comfortable looking room with an open window looking out over a vista of distant mountains and gently flapping curtains. It was filled with plants and paintings, every wall filled with detail and distractions, while a desk and chair had been done away with, replaced with several different seats, sofas and couches.

There was a man waiting, dressed in a tan suit with grey trousers. He had black hair, a cleanshaven face and a pair of green-framed glasses balanced on his nose. "Ah. James." The man stood and shook the general's hand, then Jaune's. "And you must be Mr Arc. I'm sorry, that probably comes across condescending, doesn't it? I obviously know who you are. I expect nearly three quarters the population of Remnant does."

Jaune tried to smile back – he really did – but that sentiment made him feel weak in the knees.

"Doctor Seng here is my personal therapist." Ironwood explained, guiding Jaune to one of the seats. "I can personally vouch for the number of times he's helped me come to terms with difficult situations."

"More than many." Dr Seng agreed. "A man in a position of power inevitably has more difficult decisions than most to make. You're not so dissimilar, Jaune. Is it alright if I call you that?"

Everyone kept asking that like he'd get angry at them. "Jaune is fine…"

Ironwood was quickly shooed out the room and Dr Seng came back to take a seat of his own. Ironically, he took the reclining one most stereotyped as the chair the patient would lay down on. He noticed Jaune's confused expression and said, "I find laying down comfortable myself. My bones aren't what they used to be. You can call me Doctor, Seng or even Gin if you wish. I'm not much one for formality. I assume you've never done this before. It must feel strange."

"I don't know what to do." Jaune admitted.

"Relax. Talk. Discuss. That's all it is really. I'm not a physician to ask you to get right to the problem and start prescribing medicine. I'm to be someone you can feel comfortable opening to. I won't judge, or try to push you in certain directions, nor will I inform anyone of what you say here. It will sound cliché, but my job is to be a friend. Since I know that's unrealistic, I'll say you should think of me as a sounding board. Feel free to express your thoughts and ideas to me. I'll share my opinion back. There is no right or wrong here."

That all sounded nice but it didn't help him much. "Mr Ironwood thinks I have a problem."

"Let's not talk about what James thinks – he's a good man, he really is, but he isn't you. The pressures he faces are different from yours. Sometimes as bad, but dissimilar. For one, he has the advantage of being older, more experienced and specifically trained to deal with what he has faced. You've had much of this thrust upon you and, from what I can tell, you've been doing your best to keep your head above the water."

That sounded about right. It felt like he was treading water and trying to balance a hundred little things, all while others were drowning around him and shouting out for help. To try and swim himself meant abandoning them.

"Would it be easier if I asked questions?"

Jaune nodded. It would be.

"How does it feel when you bring someone back?"

"There's a tugging, like something slipping out of me-"

"No, I'm sorry, I should have been clearer. I mean after the fact, not during it. How do you feel after bringing someone back from the dead? Do you feel happy?"

"Well… yeah..."

"In what way?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Not at all. I think there are many kinds of happiness. The happiness I feel when I see a cute dog do something funny is different from the kind I feel when I eat a sugary treat, and that's different from what I feel when my daughter performs in a school play. I want to know which kind you feel."

Which kind. It wasn't as bad a question as Jaune first thought when Dr Seng put it into context like that. He tried to put what he felt into words. "I feel happy when I see the reactions of the parents," he said slowly. "Or whoever brought them in. It's not always parents."

"We have you healing children for now, I assume?"

Mostly. Jaune didn't ask or complain because who could be upset about saving children who died in accidents, or who needed extremely dangerous surgery that was prone to fail? Not him. That was for sure. It helped that he wasn't the one making the decisions there. If he had to choose, then he would be deciding who lived and who died – who was more worthy of life. It was a relief to have that responsibility taken away from him.

"Yeah. Parents are… they're always more extreme."

"Their reactions?"

"Hm." He nodded. "I've brought back people's parents before and they're happy about it, don't get me wrong, but it's not as big to them. They look happy to have them back, but whenever I bring a child back, their parents look like I've moved the entire planet for them."

"There are certain expectations we have growing up," Dr Seng said. "We understand even if we don't like it that our parents will die before us. We understand and accept it, and that softens the blow when it happens. It takes care of one of the five stages of grief. It's not the same when it's your child. When you or your partner gives birth, it is a magical moment and you believe – you expect – that the child will live a long and happy life. When that fails to happen, or when something goes wrong, it feels more unbelievable. There's more to it than just that of course. So, you like their response?"

"I don't like that they're sad," he said quickly. "And I know I shouldn't like what happens after because that means they suffered-"

"Why not?" Seng asked quickly. "Why shouldn't you like it?"

"Well… I mean… they're like that because someone died. Being happy about that would mean I was happy about…"

"It wouldn't. It wouldn't at all. A firefighter doesn't wish for people to be in danger, but he or she will feel proud of having saved someone from a burning building, even if they wish it never happened in the first place. There's nothing to be ashamed of in feeling proud of what you do. Take myself for instance. Should I feel personal sorry for every person I help? Should I hate myself because my career, my salary, depends on human anguish? No. I feel happy having helped people, even if that means people have suffered, because in the grand scheme of things I – and you – help people."

"I didn't mean it like that." Jaune said. "It's… Shouldn't I just be happy I've helped someone?"

Dr Seng hummed. "Isn't that what you do feel?"

"No. I don't feel happy for their sake, I feel… It's like I feel pleased with myself. That I'm the one saving them, that I'm the one doing the good work, and I'm special. If I just felt happy that they were happy, it'd be fine. What I feel is selfish. I'm pleased that I'm the one doing it."

"Counter point." Dr Seng said. "They are happy regardless. What does your motivation matter?"

"It matters to me."

"Ah, then that is a different matter entirely. So, you feel happy to be of use to these people, or is it that you are happy to be valued? Do you like being famous?"

"No." Jaune shook his head violently. "No, it's definitely not that."

Dr Seng paused for a moment. "Quite the sharp reaction. Are you not enjoying your time here?"

"I love Atlas. I'm happy here."

"You don't need to politick with me, Jaune, I assure you this is all confidential."

That was easy for him to say but Atlas was protecting him and his family and paying so much money to help Ansel recover. He couldn't spit on that. "I'm happier here than I was in Ansel," he insisted, and though he was sure Seng wasn't convinced, the man let it go for now. "It's just… I don't like how other people act around me. I miss being able to do things."

"Do you get enough free time?"

"I get enough," he said. "I didn't have any back home, so this is much better."

"You don't sound thrilled about it."

"I… I guess I'm not."

"Do you feel like you ought to be working instead?"

Jaune shook his head. He knew Dr Seng was asking if he felt guilty about having time off when people might be dying, but that wasn't it at all. Vine had given him a huge lecture alongside Clover about how aura exhaustion could impact a person, even getting a specialist from the army to come in and show records and anatomical diagrams. He understood enough of the lecture to see why he needed rest, and his parents had been quick to agree with it.

"I feel sorry for the people who could really use me, but I know I can't live my whole life in a hospital tied to a bed helping them. I'd collapse like I did before."

"I'm glad you do, Jaune. I'd hate to have to tackle that kind of mentality."

"Yeah, I… I used to." Jaune smiled sadly. Back when this all started. He could remember Dr White telling him time and time again not to take that kind of pressure onto himself. It would feel like spitting on his gave to not take that to heart now. "Not anymore. I know I deserve a life as well. I'm just not getting much of one."

"What do you do in your free time?"

"That's just it," Jaune said. "Nothing."

"It can't be nothing unless you sit in a corner staring at a wall."

"I play games, read or hang out with my family. Dad helps me train a little, I help mom cook or we go out and have dinner together. I've got the latest video games, the best consoles and whatever comics I want."

"But?"

"I'm still trapped inside. I still can't go out and have fun without being recognised. I need to be escorted everywhere – even to the toilet!" he complained loudly. "It doesn't matter if it's a girl escorting me, she either has to come in and wait with me or clear out the toilet of anyone else and let me go in alone."

"That must be awkward."

"It's not just that. If I want to go for a walk, someone has to go with me. When we eat out, we have an entire team of people surrounding us. I get that it's necessary," he said. "I saw – I know what happened back home. I lived it. It's needed and I accept that."

"Was it not the same in Ansel?"

"Yeah, probably, but I didn't have any free time to find out, so I never realised how bad it was." Or how bad his sisters had it, since they'd been through the same for months and hadn't had the advantage of being able to pass out from exhaustion and sleep through it. He felt awful about that now, and more sympathetic than ever. At least they were having a happier time in Atlas. They were in new schools, with new friends and new hobbies. Listening to them talk about it all was one of the few fun things he had left. "Now that I have time off, I get to experience in full detail how boring it is being trapped indoors all the time."

"Isolation isn't healthy." Dr Seng said. "I can ask General Ironwood to have the Arc-Ops take you outdoors more."

"They'd do it if I asked anyway." Jaune said. "They'd do anything I asked."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Well… it isn't fair, is it?"

"How is it not?"

"Them doing whatever I say." Jaune waved his hand helplessly. "They're their own people, they have jobs and I'm just… deciding what they do. If I want to go out for a walk, it's not just me going out. I have to tell Clover, he has to check with the team, they have to decide who goes with me, plot a route, look for ambush points, scout ahead, then escort me and arrange a transport back and a way to escape if things go bad."

A simple walk turned into a logistical nightmare. Heavens forbid he asked to go down to Mantle and visit an arcade. They'd have to bring a flipping army, and they'd probably kick every other person out of there so Jaune could have it to himself. He was lucky if he managed to convince Elm to walk outside with him in the lawns of Atlas Academy, and even that was done with her glaring every curious student away whenever they came close. He couldn't imagine how bad things would be down on Mantle.

"You make a fair point," Dr Seng said, "but allow me to offer you an alternative view. The Arc-Ops are being paid to look after you, and quite generously at that. A small part of making sure they are loyal is to make sure they want to keep their positions and are impervious to bribery, so I can tell you now that they have quite the cushy jobs. What's more, they are as likely bored as you when there is nothing going on. Don't you think an excursion might be fun for them as well?"

"Not if they have to do all that work for it."

"Sitting around in a barracks doing nothing is better?"

"I… At least they can do other things while they're there. I wouldn't be making work for them."

"True. However, boredom is its own curse and they may have little else to do. On the other hand, if you wanted to go out and have a little fun, what's to say they won't enjoy the change of scenery? And if you're worried about the work, well, need I remind you this is the career path they have chosen. They want to do and be paid for this work. Or are you going to suggest you are wasting my time by being here?"

"I kind of am." Jaune said. "If I didn't have any problems, you could leave early."

"Or I could be released from service. I'd be out of a job. The same holds true for them. If you don't make use of the Arc-Ops you might convince Ironwood to cull their numbers. Then if you ever did decide to go out, they might not have enough members to arrange it."

He hadn't thought about that. He didn't think Ironwood would cut their numbers, and not if Jaune asked them not to – Atlas would bend over backwards to keep him happy – but he hadn't considered that the Arc-Ops might be unhappy with him not wanting to do anything. Was that why Harriet was so sharp with him? Was that why Clover kept asking him if he was bored and if he wanted to do something? They might have been trying to prod him into making use of them.

"What would you want to do if you could?" Dr Seng asked. "In an ideal world."

"I'd want to go out on my own, explore the city and look around."

Dr Seng was silent for a long moment. They both knew that wasn't possible. Even if he had a disguise, there was a chance it would fail or someone would notice him, and then it would be a riot. At the very least he'd be cornered and encouraged to use his Semblance until he collapsed. At worst, he might be trampled or outright kidnapped.

"You could ask the Arc-Ops to show you around some of Mantle's tourist attractions," the therapist eventually said. "It would require an escort, but you'd be able to explore with as much freedom as they could possibly allow. I'm sure they'd give you complete control over where you go and what you see. The venues might even offer themselves exclusively to you."

"Kicking everyone else out," Jaune said unhappily.

"You don't want that? Then make it clear. You're the one with the power, Jaune."

"I shouldn't abuse it."

"Why not?" The question threw Jaune for a loop.

"What?"

"Why not?" Dr Seng repeated. "Atlas is prepared to abuse you as much as they can." He smiled when Jaune looked at him incredulously. "I'm on your side, Jaune, as any good therapist should be. Atlas is paying for your time and service and you are granting us that. It's within your right to make some demands back. It's expected. Goodness, I imagine the fact you haven't thus far has people scratching their heads. It might even have some people nervous."

"Nervous? Why?"

"You going out and enjoying your time in Atlas would soothe a lot of people with a vested interest in you staying here. That's the most obvious reason. Hiding away in your room, not having fun, looking unhappy – that's going to make people nervous. What if Jaune Arc wants to leave, they'll start to think. Is he not happy here? Whose fault is that? The questions will pile up from there."

"Can't people just leave me to myself?"

"I'm afraid that's not an option anymore. I'd love to say it was but I would be lying to you. You're a very powerful young man, perhaps the most powerful on Remnant, and like it or not people want to know more about you. You're fortunate your power is a harmless one. Imagine how much worse things would be if you had the potential to take life as easily as you can give it."

He didn't want to. He could envision Ansel, but in reverse, with the crowds coming to actively hunt him down and kill him, and his family being ousted from the village and into the wilderness. Ironwood coming not with a diplomatic offer, but with a small army to take him out. "I didn't ask for this." Jaune whispered. "I didn't want this. Not like this."

"Too many people claim they want to be famous, then wish for the opposite when it happens. Believe me, you're not alone in that boat." Dr Seng made a light sound. Let's get back to talking about how healing feels for you, though." Dr Seng said. "You said before that you enjoy the happiness it brings others and how that makes you feel. Do you feel proud of your work? Do you feel like it is fulfilling…?"

Jaune closed his eyes and leaned back. This wasn't so bad, just talking, even if he wasn't sure how much it was helping. It was neither a cure all nor a waste of time. Something in the middle. That didn't feel so bad.

"I guess I do feel good about making a difference."

"Tell me more about that."

/-/

General James Ironwood had never particularly enjoyed politics, least of all council meetings. They all too often descended into farcical shouting, absurd discussion and the kind of backstabbing you'd expect to see in a historical thriller. He considered himself fortunate for dodging all that on account of his seats being tied to institutions, allowing him to keep them on merit and not fickle public opinion. Of course, after being the one to convince Jaune Arc to come to Atlas, he could have probably run for monarch and got a fair share of votes.

If Jaune was the city's golden child, Ironwood was their golden adult.

The council was filled with mostly familiar faces, but one stood out as different and set an unhappy gurgling in Ironwood's stomach. Jacques Schnee looked far too comfortable in his new seat, all but proving his sudden rise and ascension to the council had not been as unmeditated as they had been led to believe. A deal with the devil, James called it, even if he knew Atlas couldn't have shelled out the money fast enough to secure Jaune's allegiance without the backing of the SDC.

It was a harsh reality that while Atlas had a GDP in the billions, that was not always liquid. Much of it was in assets, profit and property – and Ansel needed one hundred and eighty million in cold, hard cash, which wasn't the kind of amount you just found lounging down the back of the governmental sofa. Normally they could have taken a loan for a big investment from private companies or other nations, but it wasn't like Vale was going to lend them money to snipe Jaune out from under them. Having Jaune Arc here would be profitable, sure, but that was in the future. They'd have had to pull funding from other sources, close entire branches and then divert finances, all of which would have not only looked terrible to the public but would have taken months of debate and action and legal procedure. By then, Vale would have surely gotten their hands on Arc.

No, they needed liquid assets fast, and there was only one man in Atlas who could so quickly generate so eye-watering an amount. That man now sat on the council, wielding the kind of power Ironwood didn't much appreciate one man holding. At least Jacques was staying out of trouble. He wasn't stupid enough to cause any when the whole world was paying attention to Atlas. Not all of it in good ways.

"Vale has yet again voiced its displeasure with us over what they see as poaching a citizen of their kingdom." Councilman Sleet said. His proclamation earned its fair share of chuckles, and Sleet himself didn't look overly worried. "There is no suggestion yet that they will pull out of the alliance, but I dare say they are looking for us to make some concessions in the future for continued cooperation."

"Do they honestly think themselves in a position to?" Councilwoman Camilla asked. "Vale needs us more than we need them."

"Our alliance is mutually beneficial." Ironwood interrupted firmly. "It goes further than finances or pride, councilmembers."

"Agreed." Jacques Schnee of all people came to his aid. "The alliance between our kingdoms has resulted in trade agreements quite beneficial to both economies. Neither side should see fit to place that into question."

"I personally feel we're in a strong enough position to make concessions." Sleet said. "Now, now," he added when some members grumbled. "It's less a sign of weakness and more one of compassion. We can be magnanimous in our victory. Jaune Arc was not driven from his country and might feel upset if we were to start a verbal war with them over him. I propose that once he is more settled in here and happy, we consider allowing him a trip to each Kingdom. Guarded by General Ironwood of course but sharing him out won't do us any harm."

"Those dying in the hospitals will disagree but I see your point." Camilla said. "The political kudos we'd receive would be well worth a few grumbles, and we'll neatly avoid any suggestions we're holding Arc or his Semblance hostage. Vale last, I say."

"Vale middle." Sleet countered. "I agree that we should not let him visit there first lest we be seen as caving to their demands, but to intentionally neglect them will only make matters worse. Mistral has been good to us of late I believe. I propose that we send Arc to Mistral, Vale and then Vacuo if they can assure us he will be protected. Of course, that's not anytime soon. It will take months to arrange this, but the sooner we can reassure Vale and the other Kingdoms, the sooner we can benefit. Shall we put it to a vote?"

It was, and Ironwood watched the light above the hall that turned green once they were all in. The number beneath showed that the vote had passed 71-24% with 5% abstaining. He couldn't tell if Jaune would be happy with the news or not, but it would be a while before anything was decided either way. The hard part would be organising defence details for it all, and explaining to the boy's parents why he was being dragged around and shown off like some kind of prize horse.

"Moving on, we have several requests for budgetary changes." Sleet said.

"Are not governmental budgets set at the beginning of the year?" Jacques asked.

"Normally, yes, but they relate to Mr Arc and so are exceptions to the rule." The hall quietened once that had come out, accepting the news. "The first is the medical sector requesting increased budgets for security. They have already faced intense cyber activity trying to decipher where and when Mr Arc is visiting them. Luckily, physical crime is low. A few have tried to protest outside and demand his attention."

"Mostly the refugees from Ansel, is it?" Camilla asked.

Councilman Sleet nodded, not even trying to deflect it. "Indeed. Though saying they're from Ansel is unfair when they were as much a blight there as to us. They seem to have gotten it into their heads that they can threaten without punishment. I dare say they were surprised when our police forces proved otherwise and arrested them."

"Arresting a peaceful protest will not go down well." Jacques said.

"The protest was anything but peaceful. They sought to break in and might have threatened the boy again had not our brave officers stood in their path. The instigators have been rounded up and made an example of."

"Dangerous wording without context, Sleet," someone said. "I assume you mean jail time?"

"Worse," Sleet replied. "We removed them from the waiting list."

Silence spread as that sank in. The waiting list as it was called was the long list of people asking for the attention of their resident miracle worker. It was thousands long already, with priority cases receiving the greatest chance of being seen. To be removed from it wasn't just telling someone to wait longer for treatment – it was telling them they had burned their bridges and would now have to accept that they or their loved ones would experience a natural death with no second chances. It was cruel, but it was also fitting. Those people who resorted to violence to try and force Jaune to bring their family back would now have to live with the knowledge that had lost that chance.

Making an example of them indeed. James thought. No one will dare raise a fuss if they know they might be taken off the list entirely. It's a more effective punishment than any amount of jail time might be.

"I think given the unprecedented demands we are making on their security, that an increase in budget is fair." Sleet spoke into the silence. "Also, the world is watching. We cannot afford to slip even an inch where Mr Arc's safety is concerned. All in favour?"

The vote passed unanimously. The sector would receive an extra forty million in tax credits – not exactly hard cash, but equivalent enough that they could offset the tax with bank loans to finance any investment. Ironwood was used to the council spending more time on money than not, he even understood the value. A strong economy meant for a happy populace, even if he, himself, had to sit through boring meetings on the matter. The council wouldn't normally be so happy to throw money around, but the predictions were already coming in from economists as to the value Jaune would bring in terms of investment, business relocation and the heightened value of Atlesian land and property. The tentative value suggested their GDP would rise twelve per cent in the next four years.

That was billions in terms of lien. If not tens of billions.

"Onto the next matter of business, how is Arc settling into Atlas?"

General Ironwood shrank back into his seat. He'd been hoping they wouldn't ask. "Well enough, I'd say," he said.

"He hasn't been seen down on Mantle except for when he is working," Camilla said, "And while we can't criticise his work ethic, I've heard mumblings of us working him too hard."

"Him pushing himself to collapse to save a child won him and us the adoration of the people." Sleet said. "But that is a double-edged sword. If he spends his time locked away, I dare say people will start to believe we are responsible for it."

All eyes turned to Ironwood as if he were solely responsible for Arc's wellbeing. He was, but only in terms of preventing negative interactions. He'd had… not complaints from Clover, but concerns that the boy didn't go out much and didn't seem to be having fun, but short of forcing it down his throat, there wasn't much James could do.

"He's still new and settling in. Jaune spends much of his free time with his family catching up for what he lost in Ansel. They regularly go out together, albeit they stick to Atlas and not Mantle. I expect that's out of fear from what happened when they would go out in public back home."

"It's to be expected they are cautious but the populace won't accept that." Camilla wasn't saying anything James didn't understand. People would chime in with their own opinions and analysis, typically incorrect, and then act like the council were failing for not implementing it. "I'm one of the last that wants to pressure the boy, but he needs to be seen in public, and not just when he's working. We want to show the world that we're offering him a life beyond the job. That's not going to work if he is only ever seen in hospitals."

"I understand, councilmembers, but forcing him to do something he doesn't want to isn't the answer." James could see that they understood that, reluctantly or not, and pushed on. "I can gently encourage and offer ideas, but I've promised him his free time is his to use as he wishes. I'm sure he'll grow in confidence and want to visit Mantle soon."

He hoped so anyway, or this was only going to get worse. James didn't believe Jaune unhappy or like to want to leave Atlas anytime soon, but the councilmembers were right that the public would start to get antsy if he stayed locked away. Talk shows, PR events and interviews would do little to convince them he was being looked after.

"I have a proposal if I may." Jacques Schnee spoke up, one hand raised before himself. "I understand the honourable general's comments regarding Mr Arc, and I think we can all agree he raises a good point. However, it may be that we are overthinking the matter. Mr Arc is a young man in a strange new kingdom, lacking more in familiarity and companionship than any interest in personal affairs. Perhaps instead of forcing our ideas for fun upon him, we should offer him a chance to make some of his own."

Ironwood had never heard Jacques use the word `fun` before, nor had he ever heard it be uttered like it was so alien a term. The council were signalling their interest however, even if Ironwood knew this would surely benefit the SDC as much as it would Atlas.

"What do you suggest, Councilman Schnee?" Sleet asked politely.

"I had intended to host a charity gala in two weeks' time for my daughter's fifteenth birthday. Initially, I planned for my daughter to perform to an audience of our kingdom's finest-"

Some birthday party for her… Ironwood thought.

"-but it occurs to me that it might better be a chance for the younger generation to mingle and interact. Many of us here have children of our own, and there are plenty of others who I'm sure would make fine companions. Better yet, they are not as liable to act out due to Mr Arc's fame due to their own."

"You want us to force friendship upon him?" Camilla asked.

"I am suggesting we offer him a chance to meet some people his own age and form some friends of his own," Jacques countered with a patient smile. "After all, he's had to give everything up to come here, and he's spending his free time living in the barracks. I expect there's a dearth of individuals his own age to interact with. We can invite particular people to come, perhaps even some from abroad, to celebrate my daughter's birthday. We can even keep his attendance secret so as not to draw undue attention. While Mr Arc is there, perhaps he'll have a chance to meet and befriend some of them, who will in turn invite him out on occasion for a playdate."

A playdate. It wasn't hard to see Jacques as a man whose interaction with his children was delivered through a hired nanny, or perhaps a team of them. Still, he made a valid point and Ironwood had little chance to say otherwise as the idea spread. It would both show Jaune in public and convince people he wasn't being hidden away, and it would be yet another chance to gloat about having won him in the first place.

That the Schnee family would benefit the most went unsaid – their charity would earn a staggering amount, and thus they would benefit from the reputation of having done it. More than that, there was a real chance for the Schnee family to grow closer with the Arcs, who aside from now being fabulously important, had six single daughters, one or two of which were close to Whitley's age, and one very eligible bachelor of a son the same age as said daughter.

Ironwood could read the writing on the wall and he was sure the other councilmembers could as well, but to them the idea of Jaune becoming enamoured with a proud, young Atlesian woman might as well have been the ideal scenario. If he recalled, Jacques also had another daughter in the military who was progressing well. He might have to summon and speak with her and see if she could offer some insight on the man's motives.

"An excellent proposal, councilman Schnee." Camilla praised. She wore a huge smile, suddenly much more pleased with Jacques' inclusion on the council. "I am in complete agreement. I can already think of a few people from abroad that it would be great to have in attendance."

"The event will, of course, be open to all from the council as well, along with their families." Jacques said magnanimously.

From there it was 99-0% with only a single person abstaining.

No one bothered to ask Ironwood why.

/-/

Jaune had a feeling that Clover and the rest of the Arc-Ops didn't really understand why he wanted to come down to Mantle to visit a comic shop when he could have ordered the entire inventory online and had it delivered. They didn't argue about it, however. The second he brought the idea up, Clover had the rest of them working out roles and a plan, and not two hours later he was being shuttled down to one of Mantle's many military bases, being welcomed by a line of some ten soldiers saluting him and then being stuffed into an armoured vehicle that rumbled into the city.

I have a feeling this isn't what Dr Seng meant when he said I should get out more.

"Hey." A large elbow bumped into his arm, and Elm smiled broadly down on him from her seat to his right. "You okay, little man? You look bothered."

"I was hoping to actually walk a little in the sun," he admitted.

"The transport is only to reach the general area," Clover assured him from across the vehicle. Harriet was in the passenger's seat up front while Tortuga was driving. "We'd be squashing onto public transport otherwise and no one wants that. We'll go the rest of the way on foot."

"Oh. Okay." That was a relief. This was stressful enough already without the thought of being shoved in and out of armoured tanks like a prisoner-of-war. "This is okay, right? I'm not causing trouble?"

"We're to escort you wherever you want to go." Vine said. "This is our job. There's no issue of trouble unless you run away and force us to chase you across the city."

"I won't."

The pasty man smiled. "Then I, for one, am pleased to get off Atlas."

"You certainly need the sun," Elm couldn't help but say.

"Wow," Clover whispered as Elm and Vine began to argue, "They almost made it one sentence without descending into a fight. Impressive."

Jaune snickered. The verbal spat was a nice distraction as they drove into Mantle, and it was nice that it didn't feel like it was designed to be that. Elm and Vine weren't arguing because of him; they were just arguing. It didn't get to blows – never did – but Elm would always descend to challenging Vine to push-ups or an arm-wrestling contest, and Vine was never fool enough to accept.

"Alright, you two," Clover said ten minutes later when the vehicle pulled to a stop. "Enough of that. It's time to get out there and secure a perimeter. Remember, we're in public. Put your best faces."

"He doesn't have one."

"That means no sniping, Ederne."

The back of the vehicle opened and the two Specialists stepped out, looking left and right and quickly spreading out. The argument went forgotten as they each called the path clear. Clover went next, double checking before waving Jaune out. "It's all clear, sir," he said, then stumbled and added, "Jaune, I mean. You can come out."

Jaune pretended he hadn't heard the slip up and stepped out. It was strange to stand in Mantle, look up and see the underside of Atlas. Part of him thought the city should have been perpetually covered in shade, with plants suffering and everyone being as pale as Vine was, but the angle of the sun over the mountains cast down on the city instead, providing a rare amount of warmth for Remnant's northern-most city. It was still chill enough that he wore a white coat around him with a fur-lined collar, but it wasn't as bad as he imagined. The city was busy, with tall buildings and glass reflecting sunlight, cars shooting by and the low hum of a distant radio belting music out an open car window.

They weren't on a busy street but there were still people here and there, walking by with shopping bags or on their scrolls. Some were already looking their way, eyes drawn more by the APC and soldiers than recollection at first, but they soon realised who he was. A woman pointed and chattered excitedly to her friend, and then more began to take notice. Scrolls came out to record and Jaune ducked his head, cheeks flushing at all the attention.

Clover placed an arm on Jaune's shoulder and steered him away, toward the glass-fronted shop with numerous comic book heroes on posters strapped to the inside of the window. Tortuga had already pushed the door open and Harriet was inside, hands stuffed in her pockets as she glared at the few members of public placed there. Said people looked nervous indeed until Jaune walked in, at which point their eyes threatened to bulge out.

"Mommy," a young boy tugged at a woman's arm. "Is that-?"

"Shhh. Yes, it is. Don't point. It's rude."

At the back of the store, beside a doorway leading to a back room, a large man sat behind a glass desk with rare comics laid out inside it. He was balding with glasses and had looked incredibly bored up until Jaune came in, at which point he nearly fell off his chair. He quickly adjusted himself, straightened his glasses and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly again at Harriet's expression.

"Bree." Clover said softly. "Best face."

"This is my best face, sir."

Tortuga snorted. "Then I dread for your dating profile, girl." The lazy woman raised her voice and called out, "You can all relax. We're just here shopping. Believe it or not, this is not actually Atlas invading a comic store."

The other customers nervously giggled. A few of them made to pick up comics, but they were only pretending to read. Jaune could feel the eyes on him even as Clover gave him a little push to say he could do what he wanted. What had he wanted really? The whole point of this was just to come down to Mantle and test the waters. He didn't want or need any comics but asking for this seemed like a normal enough thing.

Jaune awkwardly walked toward a revolving rack of comics, picked one off and flicked aimlessly through it. There had been one comic store in Ansel and it was so much smaller than this. It also had less stock, much of that being the most famous and easily sold labels like X-Ray and Vav. This was a city shop however, and the sheer range of comics and books it had put Ansel to shame. There were comics here for heroes he'd never heard of before, along with Mistrali comics, some of which were hidden in a section boldly rated 17+, which Jaune didn't dare go near with Elm watching.

It would have all been amazing if not for the staring, and he'd have loved to spend hours looking over everything. As it was, he felt the weight of attention on him as he tried to read, swallowing nervously and closing the comic like he'd been caught doing something wrong. There was nothing untoward about browsing, but he suddenly felt judged for it. Not only by the other customers, but by the Arc-Ops as well. It was like when you were in a shop and a security guard kept watching you. Even if you weren't a shoplifter, it wasn't a pleasant experience. It was worse here because everyone was watching him.

In the end he picked a random selection of three magazines off the shelf and approached the main counter. The man was gazing at him, practically shaking as Jaune set the magazines down with a quiet, "These please."

"O-On the house," the man stammered. "I couldn't charge-"

"Please…" Jaune whispered. "I want to pay."

It was hard to tell if the man understood or just took his words at face value. He picked up each comic and scanned them in one at a time, totalled the amount and said it out loud. It would have been a week's pocket money before, but it was now little more than a flash of his card, a beep and an increment knocked off the vast wealth contained within. It didn't feel real. None of it did.

"Can I… Can I get a picture?" the man finally asked as he bagged the magazines. "For the store. To show that you came here. No one will believe me otherwise."

"Um." Jaune resisted the urge to look to Clover for instruction. He was the one in charge. Dr Seng had said so. "Sure. If you want to."

The man came hurriedly around the counter and took a spot to Jaune's left. He held out his scroll for a selfie, before Clover came up and politely offered to take it for him. "Yes! Thank you. I'm sorry if it's a bother."

"None at all, sir." Clover said. He stepped back and rotated the scroll sideways. "When you're ready."

Jaune smiled as best he could. He'd never been good at it, always dreading photo day in school. His mom always said he had a lovely smile when he was genuinely happy, but it was faking it that was hard. He always pulled his mouth too wide and sometimes had a manic look because of it. He tried anyway, stretching his lips apart and crinkling his eyes to not show how awkward this was all making him. The scroll flashed, Clover checked the image and then nodded and stepped forward to hand it back to the man. The shopkeeper had a look and seemed thrilled. He must have pulled the smile off.

"Thank you!" he said. "Jaune Arc, in my store. I can hardly believe it. I'll have this stuck right above my counter. It'll be a story to tell the children! Thank you so much for humouring me."

"It's okay."

"E-Excuse me." The tiny voice came from his other side and Jaune turned to see a young boy, some ten years old, being gently prodded forward by his mother. The woman had a tired, patient smile on her face and looked at Jaune apologetically. The boy held a comic out. "Could you sign this?" His mother gave him a little tap. "Please?"

"You want me to sign your comic book?"

"You save people," the boy said innocently. "And you have a super-special power no one else does. That makes you a superhero!"

Tortuga laughed loudly from the aisle over and said, "He's got a point. Maybe we should get you a cape."

Jaune blushed, both at the comment and bashfully at being painted that way. He'd never thought like that before, but he could see why a young child would think so. Hadn't he thought his father, a huntsman, was a superhero when he was younger as well? It probably made more sense here with how much media coverage he was getting. The boy offered the comic again, now looking uncertain, and Jaune realised he'd been staring. "Oh. Um. Of course I will. I was just wondering where I'd find a pen."

"I have one." The shopkeeper hurried back to his counter and snatched one, along with, Jaune noticed, another comic – this one out the glass cabinet for expensive, rare or limited-edition works. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love for you to sign this as well."

Him asking opened the floodgates. Soon, the six or so other people in the store were quietly expressing their own requests for the same. Some asked him, others asked the Arc-Ops, too nervous to approach with them hovering around. It was orderly. Jaune would give it that. In Ansel, he would have been swamped, but Clover and Tortuga worked to form the small group of people into an organised line. No one pushed, no one fought their way forward, and no one tried to demand anything more of him. He signed the child's first, then the shopkeepers and then another for a pretty girl with purple hair who looked his age if not a year older, and embarrassed to be caught in a comic store.

When she took the comic, her fingers brushed against his and she blushed terribly. "T-Thank you," she stammered, as if he was the one to be embarrassed in front of. "I can't believe I'm meeting you like this. Face to face. Can I… Can I maybe- ah!" She covered her face with the comic, squeaked, "Ignore me! I'm sorry!" and ran away out the store.

Jaune watched her go, confused until Tortuga leaned on his shoulder and said, "Looks like someone has a crush."

"Who? Her?" He couldn't believe it. "She's never even met me before."

"What girl has met any celebrity?" she asked. "I'd never met Spruce Willis. Didn't stop me having a massive crush on him when I was younger and a poster of him on my wall. I wonder if any innocent young women have posters of you on their walls, hm?"

"No way." Jaune laughed and blushed at the same time. "There's no way that's a thing."

"You might be surprised. I've seen people online call you dreamy."

"You're teasing me."

"Am I?" Tortuga threatened him with her scroll. "Want to see for yourself?"

"Tortuga." Clover warned. "Our job is to keep him safe." He grinned suddenly. "I dread to think of how dangerous the contents of your scroll would be, and what effect they would have on an impressionable young mind."

"Oi. What are you implying?"

"I'm sure I have no idea." Clover winked at Jaune, who laughed quietly back.

The last of the comics had been signed, the last of the people chatting excitedly and clutching them to their chests. The youngest looked so amazed, so excited, that he couldn't help but feel flattered. Was he really a superhero to these people? It didn't seem possible, and yet here he was, the most famous face in Atlas, and these people were reacting to that.

Maybe the fame isn't as bad as I thought, he mused. Maybe I was overreacting.

If things continued like this, it wouldn't be so bad.


Way to tempt fate there, Jaune.

"Man," Jaune said, posing cutely on the couch with his hands to his chest. The seven Beowolves posed behind him all growled under their breath. "I sure hope nothing bad happens to me. Tee hee."

Obviously, we're used to seeing the "fame is hell" trope in fiction, but I wanted with this chapter, and a few coming up, to show that it isn't always hell. Or rather, it isn't immediately hell. It was awful in Ansel not just because humans are suck but because Ansel was a small village unprepared and unable to control the outliers – the assholes who will start riots and make demands. They just didn't have the police force necessary.

Atlas does – and as a result the early moments once the awkwardness has worn off and Jaune starts to feel he can ask the Arc-Ops to take him out will mostly be happy. It's a honeymoon period. New home, new start, new mentor in Ironwood who cares enough to force him to have free time, city population loves him, no issues with the politicians. Everything seems great. What could possibly go wrong?

But yeah, I imagine that even Pyrrha enjoyed the fame at first. What is new is exciting, and Jaune is starting to realise that. It's nice to be valued and have people look up to you. Especially when they're not also threatening you and your family.


Next Chapter: 17th May

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