Note: Darn, really wanted this one out by the time Ice Queendom came out to capitalize on the views. Ah well. You'll notice throughout this story that we want to do more to include the other RWBY side characters, primarily CFVY and JNPR. Despite being such a huge part of the show, we mostly ignored them in LUBYP, but we have some exciting ideas we want to do with them here. Anyway, enjoy!
Pyrrha's fingers laced tightly around her seatbelt. She never got used to flying, and the violent turbulence as they ascended the snowy Atlasian peaks did nothing to change that. She was thankful when they finally touched down, though she wasn't sure the twisting feeling in her gut was caused entirely by the flight.
Her morning—hell, her entire weekend—had been a whirlwind. The moment she heard the news she wasn't going back to Beacon, she could barely keep her thoughts settled. New Kingdom. New School. Strangers in a stranger land. What kind of news was that to spring on a woman so suddenly? How was she ever supposed to prepare for any of that? She hadn't even processed the huge Grimm attack that just happened, and certainly not the attack on Beacon, and now this… this was all ridiculous. She had spent the three weeks of her vacation time in a cocoon of constant stress, worrying that her Huntress training would be cut short or that another terrorist attack would spin the world further out of control. She didn't need anything else on top of that. Apparently, Ozpin didn't share her concerns, because he booked her on a private flight out of Mistral in the dead of morning. He didn't even ask if she was okay with it.
And then there was that weird text she received from Ruby Rose: We need to meet up. Trust no one.
She didn't understand anything. She knew Ruby mostly in passing, watching as Team RWBY scratched and clawed their way through their first semester from the sidelines. Her foremost interaction with any of those girls was when they invited her to that strange God's Arm ritual—a memory that she tried to convince herself was a bad dream. She never thought of any of them as friends. She didn't know if she ever held a conversation with any of them other than a few brief interactions with Weiss. Yet, suddenly there they were on her television, fighting off more giant monsters and being declared national heroes. And now, a few weeks later, they were texting her cryptic messages. What made them think she wanted anything to do with them?
The airship touched down, and Pyrrha took a deep breath. One worrisome thought at a time. She unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her bags, and stood in the descending stairwell of the ship as she was struck with a vicious blast of thin, freezing, Atlasian air. She squinted as she adjusted to the overwhelming sunlight, and eventually, her vision steadied to let her see the great airstrip they had landed on, the dozen other ships lined up in a row beside her letting out students, the great, mechanized armored drones that stood guard at the precipice of the strip, and lastly in front of her, the two uniformed officers standing just by the rim of the steps, ushering her downward. She cautiously stepped onto the pavement, only for her to shudder when her foot touched the floor.
The school, the pavement, the ship: it all rocked rhythmically as if the entire floating structure was breathing.
The officers didn't give her time to steady herself. They ushered her forward, grabbing her bags from her and demanding that she follow them. Pyrrha wasn't in a position to resist their orders. She kept pace with them, occasionally glancing off to the other airships that had landed. She recognized some of her upper classmates as they stepped into the open, some shivering, some bickering with the guards, some nervously checking their Scrolls. One or two of them glanced at her curiously, and she tried to shrug them off. Nope. Didn't need to know what they thought of her.
The main hall of Atlas Academy was an imposing goliath, and Pyrrha kept her head bowed as she passed great statues of heroes of Atlasian past, sweeping banners, and testimonies to military conflict enshrined in marble and gold. She avoided eye contact with all who passed her, studying their pristine blue and white uniforms instead, noticing their perfect posture and the weapons mounted on their hips. She heard nothing within the halls, not even the distant chatter of trainees. Were they all in their classes? If so, why did it feel like they were three seconds away from springing a trap on her? The guards led her deep into the complex; unlike the labyrinthian castle of Beacon, Atlas's main compound was broken into numerous structures, each connected by a large, grassy spoke, a vast empty field of overly-trimmed grass centered by a gorgeous, piercing white oak. The guards led her into a separate building, and her footsteps turned into echoes, and when she finally picked up her head, she recognized her new surroundings as a grand auditorium. Rows and rows of seats ascended up overlooking a spotlighted silver stage, overcluttered with chairs and brandishing a large microphone in its center, and Pyrrha paused for a moment to take in its sheer size. It seemed closer to a stadium, capable of sitting ten-thousand at least, though it might have been even triple that amount. While its size was imposing, Pyrrha was allowed to ignore it as she was escorted down toward the stage, where in the front row of seats, she saw a few dozen of her classmates already seated. Among them she recognized the bodies of her Professors, shifting to be among the crowd and looking just as uncomfortable as the children.
One of them, a young girl with ginger hair, excitedly waved her over.
Pyrrha breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face as she approached the rest of her team. The two guards left her alone to fetch more students, leaving her bags with her. Nora beckoned her closer. Ren, per usual, was seated calmly as he took in the decorations on the base of the stage. Jaune was hunched over in his chair, holding his head in his hands.
"Pyrrha, you made it," Nora said happily, her voice more muted though rooted with infectious energy. "Can you believe how crazy this weekend has been? Who would have thought we'd end up here for this semester?"
"I didn't," Pyrrha answered honestly, sitting down beside Jaune. She prodded the distracted boy on his shoulder. "Hi, Jaune. Are you all right?"
"Y-Yeah," Jaune muttered under his breath. "Just… just really don't like flying."
"You should have packed some nausea medicine," Ren stated matter-of-factly.
"Didn't think it through," Jaune admitted. Pyrrha cautiously leaned away from him.
"Please do not vomit in the theater," she reminded him. "It probably wouldn't leave a good first impression."
"Yeah, they'd probably take you away," Nora stated. "That would be bad."
"Thanks for re—urgh—reminding me," Jaune groaned. Pyrrha lightly patted Jaune on his back, something she recalled her mother doing for her when she got sick as a child. She tried to change the subject to something less disgusting, though the obvious topic of interest wasn't any better for her mind.
"So… has anyone told you what we're doing here?" she asked gently.
"You mean in this theater right now? Nope," Nora said with a shrug. "I mean, they are probably going to have the Headmaster come out and give us a speech, right? And then show us our rooms?"
"That would be reasonable," Pyrrha said, understanding that it probably wouldn't occur. She wasn't quite sure why, but she felt like the ground was going to open up and swallow them whole. Her eyes moved to the side, where her weapon's case was resting innocently on the ground. She instinctively desired to open it up, even if the active hostility would just bring the guards down around her. She absentmindedly stated her concerns. "I just feel a bit like an animal."
"Well, there are a trillion guards here," Nora noted. "It was never this bad at Beacon."
"Maybe they're just on edge because of all the attacks recently," Jaune suggested, trying to steady himself on the moving earth. "Like, it can't be this bad all the time, right?"
"I think it is," Ren said. "But at least the theater is nice."
"Yeah," Nora said, slowly bobbing her head. "Maybe… maybe they're going to give us a welcome show? Atlas has electives for the arts, doesn't it?" The pace of her words quickened as if she was talking herself into the idea, they all knew that wasn't very likely.
"I just hope they do something soon, whatever it is. I need to lie down," Jaune groaned. "They do let people lie down in Atlas?"
"I'm confident people sleep here," Ren stated.
"Yeah. Sure."
"They are probably waiting for everyone to arrive before they get started," Pyrrha explained, glancing over her shoulder toward the entrance to the auditorium, where students were pouring in by the dozen. She furrowed her brow and lowered her tone. "Hey… speaking of the others, you all received texts from—"
"Team RWBY, right?"
The voice didn't come from any of her teammates, and Pyrrha was slightly startled when an arm looped around the back of her chair and a random woman invaded her personal space. She wasn't quite sure who would have the courage to just throw themselves into her conversation, but after realizing who was doing the talking, it made sense. She was staring, three inches from her face, at the marvelous Coco Adel, bound in a stylish fur coat, streaks of hair dyed blonde and jutting from beneath her beret, sunglasses dipped on her face despite the fact they were indoors. The older Huntress student smirked with cool confidence as she dipped her upper half between Pyrrha and Jaune, somehow managing to both awkwardly jut into the middle of the group while looking completely lackadaisical. Pyrrha didn't understand Coco, to say the least. She never did. But she did not voice her confusion. Instead, she just quietly asked, "How did you know?"
"I've been getting them, too," Coco said with a shrug. She gestured behind her, where Pyrrha noticed that the rest of her teammates were huddled together slightly away from the others. "We all have. Something about secrets and keeping our mouths shut."
"Shouldn't… shouldn't you not be talking to us then?" Jaune asked, trying not to become consumed by Coco's ungodly large fur coat.
"Nah. Don't really care," Coco said with a plain shrug. "Besides, everyone's talking about RWBY, aren't they? You turn on the news and it's just RWBY, RWBY, RWBY. Pretty sus, ain't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't any of you think it's super weird?" the stylish Huntress asked genuinely. "Those ladies have been at the center of attention for months. It's like they're a giant magnet for absolute chaos. There was that time they rescued me in the forest from whatever attacked us, and there was the thing you and Velvet did that—oh, wait, sorry, I didn't hear of that. Forget it. Super secret. And then, you know, the huge terrorist attack in the city where they show up out of nowhere and save the world. There's something wild going on with those girls, and honestly? I'm not sure I like it."
"Well, they are pretty secretive," Ren reasoned. "They're probably dealing with a lot of issues we don't know about. Hopefully, they aren't in too much trouble."
"Yeah, that," Coco said, drifting off. "But also…"
"Also what?" asked Jaune.
"Look, I'm not conspiratorial or anything," Coco sighed. "But do any of you think this is all just a tad convenient?"
Pyrrha didn't understand. Convenient? What was convenient about monsters attacking Vale? It wasn't until Nora scoffed that Pyrrha started picking up on Coco's meaning. "What? You don't think Team RWBY are the bad guys or anything, right?"
"I didn't say that," said Coco. "I've hung out with Ruby and Weiss. They're cool. Okay, Ruby is cool. Weiss is racist as shit. But they're cool. But also… those girls are not monster-slaying, ultra-badass celebrities who are important enough to have the universe revolve around them. There's a disconnect there. That and the promotion they have with the Headmaster? Bruh, I know my corporate synergy bullshit when I smell it. It's just all very…" Coco glanced away, and a knowing grin slunk onto her face. "Check it out. Right on time."
The students had been talking amongst themselves for some time, but when Team RWBY entered, the entire room went quiet. No one could look away, even as they were no more than colored shapes on the distant side of the theater. One by one, the young walked down the steps, taking their time as they drew closer. Pyrrha squinted at them. Even from afar, they seemed… off. Their strides were more purposeful. They had these hollow, almost bitter expressions. She had always known them to be angsty, but did they always come across as… well, she didn't really know what they were. What word described a perfect blend of confidence and terror? She knew of none. Words were never her strong suit, to begin with.
The girls, flanked by a very smug-looking Professor Goodwitch—wait, she was alive, whatever—did not go all the way down to the front by the other students. They planted themselves down a few rows back and above, not bothering to even glance at the rest of their classmates. They all just stared right at the stage, ready to face whatever trials Ozpin had planned for them head-on. They must have been the last to arrive, and the speculation and whispers from the other students picked up in intensity.
"Oh my god, they showed up."
"They are so weird."
"I think they're cool."
"Is anyone going to say anything to them?"
"I guess they're too famous for us now."
"And I thought Team JWEL were assholes."
"We should try to have lunch with them soon."
Pyrrha didn't engage in any gossip, even as she heard Coco and Nora mutter something to each other. She instead stared at Team RWBY head-on, waiting to see what they would do. Would they eventually notice her? Would they wave at their adoring public and revel in their celebrity status? Would they do anything other than look stoically ahead at the stage? Pyrrha watched and waited for a long time. Her answers continued to elude her.
It took quite some time for Atlas to do anything. Ruby didn't budge once. Not once. She just sat, hands in her lap, her girlfriend and sister flanking her on either side, Blake sitting directly in front of her to stay as far away from Goodwitch as possible. They didn't speak. Atlas would have to make the first move.
Or someone close to it.
Ruby sat at attention when, after twenty minutes of sitting and doing nothing but feeling the world shift beneath her, she saw Ozpin step onto the stage. He walked with a slight limp but otherwise was exactly as she remembered him. Cool, relaxed smile. Cup of coffee in his hand. Dark glasses bridged his nose. His suit had changed color, though. He was now dressed in the official navy blue of the Atlasian military. Ruby scowled as he took center stage, brushing his lips up close to the microphone as he addressed his strained student body.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope everyone had a safe and relaxing flight into Atlas." He didn't look at any of them, staring blankly off into the sky as he spoke. Ruby dug her fingers into the length of her cape. He continued without much thought. "You all know I like to keep things brief, so I won't take up too much of your time. I understand that change can be a scary thing. The world seems to be changing more every passing year. However, it is in times of great change that we often seek sources of great stability, and I can assure you that there is no greater source of stability in the world than the work done here at Atlas Academy. I have the highest degree of confidence that you'll all be able to adapt and survive as true Huntresses and Huntsmen should. This semester is sure to be an exciting one. So, take all the opportunities life has handed you. That is all."
Ozpin bowed his head and took a step back from the microphone. Ruby's jaw clenched. Yang leaned over, her arms crossed, and she whispered cautiously to her sister. "Is that it? I thought he'd call us out or something."
Ruby agreed. She would expect the faculty to draw more attention to them given they were the biggest news story in Remnant, but Ozpin was silent on the matter. She didn't mind. The less attention, the better. Still, that he didn't even give them instructions, or a class schedule, or—
"Now, before I forget," Ozpin stated, quickly stepping back to the microphone, "I want to introduce all of you to a close friend of mine. He is going to be overseeing your instruction alongside me for the rest of the semester. Please welcome the Headmaster of Atlas Academy, General James Ironwood."
It took a few moments for Ruby to recognize the name. A man slowly walked out on the stage to the sound of polite applause. He was dressed in white and… and he had this piercing gaze and… and…
"Summer…"
That face—that cold, awful face.
"Oh, we're not playing games, Summer. Not tonight."
She knew he was here. She had studied Atlas staff. She had prepared. But he was there. Right there.
"Did you kill those people in Memoria?"
The auditorium became dark and quiet, all of the sound turning to blank, white noise. She saw him take the microphone, she saw his mouth moving, but she didn't hear a word he said. Like Ozpin before, he did not look at her while he addressed the crowd, but it was deliberate. She knew it. He wouldn't dare look at her.
He was right there.
Ruby's heart beat erratically. Her knuckles turned white from clutching the fabric of her cape. Flashes appeared in front of her eyes, grainy footage of that tape seared into her brain, her mom's bloodied fac, his commanding, frightening presence, and that terrified wail of her mother pleading for her life overtook all other sounds in the room until even her heart became a constant, droning cry. Something watered within her eye, and she didn't realize she was grinding her teeth so hard until she felt her jaw about to break in two.
James Ironwood.
James fucking Ironwood.
She saw her mother on that stage in his place, hands tied behind her back, gun pressed to her head.
Was he there, too?
And then, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The madness ceased, and the world came back into focus. Weiss's fingers were firm. It may have been the only stability left in her life.
"…and while we have our differences, I know that we all have the same goal." Ironwood was concluding his speech. How long had he been talking for? His voice was steady throughout, almost boring, and yet his plain confidence was enough to keep the rest of the students paying attention. "We all love our Kingdoms. We all respect our traditions. We want to keep the world safe from our enemies. There… are not many of the Faith among you, but there is a passage in the Third Totum of the Knight that I would like to share with you. 'If thine body breaketh, take heed as to its source. If thou breaketh for mere hardship, thou art unworthy to stand once more. If thou breaketh for thine countrymen, then thou hast been broken for a good cause, and thine spirit shalt be enriched. But if thou breaketh for thine Lord and thine Kingdom, then thou shalt be rewarded for thine valor with eternal life.' Our lives as Huntsmen are a struggle. The weak aren't meant to be Huntsmen. The fact that you are here is a testament to your constant strength and determination. But being a Huntsman also means struggling for a cause, and while you may be fighting alongside your fellow students, your fight has a higher purpose. You represent your Kingdom every day out in the field, and in this Academy, you will represent your Kingdom still. So represent it well. I want you all to make Beacon Academy, and all of Vale, very proud. Is that clear?"
A murmur of approval spread through the audience. Ruby, Yang, and Weiss all kept quiet, though they heard Goodwitch politely clapping behind them. Ruby soon heard something else: Blake muttering under her breath just loud enough to be picked up.
"Fucking fascist…"
Ironwood clasped his hands behind his back. He smirked. "We can work on that response later." The light joke drew even lighter laughter, but he continued unphased. "Regardless, I hope you all see that you will not necessarily have it easy here. Atlas Academy breeds the greatest Huntsmen in the world, and though you come from a different school, I expect greatness from each and every one of you. As such, I thought that it might be good to give you some… inspiration, so to speak. I want to give you all a taste of the greatness that I hope to inspire in each of you. I have invited two of our top young prospects to give you a demonstration of their abilities… a showcase of the teachings Atlas Academy has provided them. They are your classmates too now, so I hope you will give them a little louder applause than you gave me." Some more polite laughter followed, but Ironwood's face soon turned deadly serious as he extended his arms toward the side of the stage. "I would like to introduce everyone to two of Atlas's finest: Private Ciel Soleil and Private Penny Polendina, First Rank."
The members of Team RWBY straightened up in their seats. In fact, the whole auditorium seemed to draw a collective breath and sit at attention. The name of the former student escaped them, but the latter… it was all too familiar to anyone who had been paying attention. It was a name that had been diminished in recent weeks due to Team RWBY taking the international spotlight, but for several years it had been drilled into the mind of those who studied young Huntresses. It was a name that rivaled that of Pyrrha Nikos in media attention—and that same young woman was paying the most attention out of anyone, leaning forward in her chair, hands beneath her chin, her eyes alight with focused flame.
Two women stepped onto the stage. Their uniforms were identical. Clean white shirts beneath heavy, dark blue coats. Matching combat skirts over top black leggings and simple, formal shoes. Stripped of all conceivable personality. One of the girls was a dark-skinned woman with a gremlin-like face that had been smoothed and sturdied into an expressionless statue, save for an impossibly piercing set of blue eyes. A blue beret rested atop a short bed of black hair, and a single golden jewel was pressed into her forehead. Her posture was impeccable, her outfit devoid of the slightest wrinkle. She gripped a violin and a bow by her side. No one was paying much attention to her, though. Everyone's eyes were on the other woman, a tall, pale girl who could barely hide a smile behind her pretend posturing. Her green eyes danced around the auditorium like bouncing rubber balls, and she held her hands in front of her waist and gleefully swung them back and forth. Her bob of ginger hair was covered by a navy military cap with a golden Atlas insignia on its front. As Ciel, the shorter among them, stood at attention at the side of the stage, the one they called Penny walked up to General Ironwood and saluted him. He nodded approvingly at her, barely acknowledging the other Private, and he took the microphone stand with him as he left the stage, leaving the woman all alone at the center.
She was unshakable as she stared out at the crowd, surveilling them all. She did not say a word, but she appeared to be humming something to herself. No one could quite tell for sure, though. Private Ciel took a deep breath, and she slowly brought the violin up to her neck, steadying the bow atop its strings. She gave Private Penny a knowing look, and the ginger gave her a smile in return. She was ready.
The bow moved across the strings, and a beautiful and haunting chord blossomed in the auditorium. Ciel steadily, perfectly, guided the music along, as all eyes fell upon the enigmatic and charming woman taking center stage. The young cadet bowed her head, and slowly extended out her arms. She drew them far apart, then rotated them counterclockwise, always opposite, always precise. Se guided her hands through several stances, her soon her feet followed, and slowly, as the music continued into a gentle melody, the students of Beacons realized they were watching a kata being performed for them. The movements were simple at first, graceful, if not slightly strange as the lanky young woman guided her body through the stances. But they were foreign and graceful, and nothing they expected from a Kingdom so focused on strength and power.
Then, after a minute had passed, Penny pulled her hands out to her sides once more, and the sound of a metal hiss broke through the music. From out of nowhere—no, Ruby realized, from out of her spine—a set of swords appeared, floating in the air and slowly spreading apart. An audible gasp came from the crowd as eight sharp blades floated in the air, seemingly held aloft by nothing, forming a perfect semi-circle around Penny's body. Penny's hands gently wavered as she guided the swords into place, and the blades extended to show off their total, exquisite beauty. Ruby had never seen swords in that style before, otherworldly and ancient-looking all at once. The swords locked into position, and Ciel held a high note, letting the chord linger as the crowd admired the extended, deadly beauty of the woman known as Penny Polendina.
Ruby leaned forward in her chair, The chord lingered still. For a moment, the world beneath stopped turning.
Then, Penny suddenly opened her eyes. Ruby's breath became caught in her throat. For the first time that day, someone from Atlas was looking directly at her.
The blades turned suddenly toward the audience.
Ciel ripped her bow across the strings.
Penny smiled.
And all at once, the eight swords flew into the audience, each one headed straight toward Ruby's head.