Amelia Steele 894 - 912 A.G*
"No! No, no, no!" Amelia's grieving mother had to be held back by her husband to stop her from falling over, her hands outstretched towards an empty casket slowly being lowered into the ground. After she had been crushed by the Wyvern, there was nothing left to bring home, "You told me you were going to be safe! You told me you were going to be fine!"
The sight just made it more difficult for the Watchdogs to hold back their emotions. Those who were openly weeping had to hold back to not audibly sob, and even the coldest member averted their gaze with heartbreak in their eyes.
"...Ma'am?" Ayre approaches Amelia's mother, wearing a black dress and a mournful look on her face, "My name is Ayre. I am-"
However she is interrupted by a slap across the face from Amelia's mother, but she doesn't flinch and instead holds out a hand to stop Raven, dressed in a black suit with bandages and a cap over his head, from interfering.
"Why?!" she demands with tears in her eyes, "You sent my daughter to die, and for what?! Money? Dust? Don't you have enough?!"
Ayre could only stare in silence and regret as Amelia's mother broke down in her husband's arms.
"S-she told us it was just another job…That afterwards her brother could finally go to college…Why did you have to take that from us?!"
Her husband could only give an apologetic glance before they had to leave, with her sobs and screams still echoing in everyone's minds, especially Ayre's whose eyes seemed distant.
Among the other Watchdogs, Adam stands beside them in mourning and silence. His left arm, or the stump that was left in its place, was held up by a sling. The nerve damage sustained from bypassing many safeties and near-fatal EN overload tore his arm's nerves to shreds and lasting damage through his body as well. If he was lucky he'd get back in an AC in a few months.
Nightwatch, standing next to him, looked like he was taking it the worst out of all of them. He stared downwards with empty eyes like he was dead inside.
"I thought I was done with this…" the former Huntsman mutters numbly, "Watching teammates die. That's why I joined in the first place…"
Adam doesn't have the energy to respond. Even then what could he say?
"...Can't do this anymore…just can't," he mutters as he looks away from the casket.
Lucas Blackwood 862 - 912 A.G*
"When Luke called me, told me about the big plan of taking back Glenn, I called him a suicidal idiot." a bearded man dressed in an old, wrinkled, Pre-Glenn Vale Army dress uniform says with a distant look in his eyes, "We were there when Glenn fell. Lost our platoon trying to hold the line. Lost a lot of friends and family, especially Luke. When he heard the news of the Grimm reaching the evacuation tunnels the civilians were taking he lost it. Was never the same again, but then again, how could any of us be the same?"
The assembled Watchdogs and Atlas Vanguard listened as they stood up. Joining them were other former veterans of the former Vale Army that knew him, and some officers of the current Vale Defence Force. In the old days, it would be ridiculous for Atlas and Vale soldiers to be gathered like this, considering after the Great War, but now they stand together out of respect, mourning a man they knew.
The veteran choked back a sob as he turned to the empty casket, a patch in hand signifying the old platoon they were part of, "He asked me to come with him, hop into an MT and get revenge for Glenn but I told him no. I wasn't going to waste my life for something that pointless…if he wanted to die that badly he could go ahead…those were my last words to him. I wish they weren't…"
He drops the patch into the grave as dirt is being shovelled in,
"Goodbye, brother…I loved you. And I sure as hell going to miss you…"
Tortuga Holden 890 - 912 A.G*
A volley of seven shots was fired from old-fashioned rifles dating back to the Great War as seven Atlesion soldiers in dress uniforms racked back the bolts to fire another volley on command two more times.
"And so it is time to say farewell to Vanguard Officer Tortuga Holden. A man I've had the privilege and pleasure to have under my command. A man whom I had mentored for three years before his death. A man that sacrificed his life to protect for the sake of not just Atlas, but all on Remnant." General Ironwood says solemnly as a white and black Atlas flag covering the casket is folded by Atlesian soldiers in dress uniforms, "He leaves behind family, friends, fellow pilots and two Kingdoms grateful for his sacrifice. May he rest in peace."
General Ironwood then accepts the folded flag before approaching the grieving family of Tortuga, two parents and a sister, and presenting it solemnly.
"On behalf of the Round Table Council of Atlas, the Vanguard Special Operations Division, and a grateful kingdom, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honourable and faithful service."
The funeral proceeds with people approaching the casket, some saying final words, some paying respect in silence. All of them were various members of the Atlas Vanguard and Watchdogs squadron that fought alongside him in the Reclamation of Mountain Glenn.
"I don't recognise her," Adam mutters softly, looking at a woman in an Atlas dress uniform, the insignias depicting her as an officer of the Special Operations branch of the Atlas Army, so she was not a Vanguard.
"Harriet Bree. They were on the same team back in Atlas Academy, before he enlisted in Ironwood's program." Winter explains quietly with a downcast look, "He mentioned they were…closer than friends."
"...Damn it," Adam mutters under his breath as Winter's turn comes. She quietly approaches the casket, and like many Vanguard operatives before her, hammers her badge into his casket with her bare fists. An Atlas military tradition he doesn't pretend to understand.
And then his turn came, walking up to the casket with feelings of awkwardness and regret. They were just classmates, in the same class training together. But from their brief and rare interactions, and seeing how he fought with his teammates, he knew Tortuga was a good man that cared for others. Maybe that was enough?
He places his remaining organic arm on the casket, "I wish I got to know you better, buddy."
Cedric Sterling 875 - 912 A.G*
Cedric's funeral had been the smallest of the four. There was no living family to visit and mourn, nor friends besides those in the Watchdogs, and those who knew him before his change in careers were either dead or rotting in a Vacuoan jail.
Adam was the last to leave, insisting on staying for just a while longer as everyone respected his wishes and left him alone, even when rain began pouring overhead.
All but one.
"The fuck are you still doing here?" Adam asked no energy left for malice. Besides him, Shadow 1 was having trouble sparking a lighter to light a cigarette in the pouring rain, leaning over to protect the flames and keep the cigarette dry.
"Can't a man pay respects to a war buddy?" Shadow 1 asks as he finally succeeds in lighting a cigarette and smoking it, "Pardon me, but he didn't seem like the type that would mind."
"...He wasn't." Adam concedes nevertheless feeling the urge to smack it off his lips, "And don't give me that remorse crap. If you felt any, then why didn't we see you in the other funerals?"
"Never said it was remorse, pal." Shadow 1 shrugs as he blows out a puff of smoke, "Pearl was one helluva pilot. And you have to respect how far he's come from Vacuo. Not every day a former bandit flies as high as he did. If nothing else, I can respect a good story."
"Story? Is that all you're here for? Entertainment?" Adam scowls, "Fuck off, Shadow 1, or whatever the fuck your real name is!"
Shadow 1 actually chuckles at that, "Brothers only know, Ravager. And it might not mean much to you, but that's the highest compliment I can think of. What is a man but a collection of stories? And how can a man live forever, but in the stories remembered by the living?"
He extinguishes the cigarette on the palm of his prosthetic arm, before turning his back, "That's all the time off I have. It's been a pleasure flying with ya, pal. Of course, the next time we meet we could be enemies, what with the animosity between our companies. Brothers only know what will happen, but worse comes, I hope there are people left to remember you."
Adam growls, "And I hope there's no one to remember you. The SDC won't, you're just another number to them. Another product."
"...Now that's just uncalled for." Shadow 1 mutters darkly, looking back briefly to glare with glowing blue irises before walking off, "Be seeing ya, pal."
Doctor Arthur Watts*
"...Doctor Watts?" A nervous assistant raises a Scroll as the Head Science Officer of the Sentinels is coding with several desktops surrounding him, all pouring with constant streams of near-intelligible codes, "The board has asked for your presence. Mr Schnee wants to discuss the recent, ahem, 'PR disaster' that was Mountain Glenn. He seemed rather…cross."
Watts sighs and rolls his eyes, "Tell him I'll be there once I finish with a few more lines of codes for the project he invested millions of Lien into. We don't want it all to go to waste, do we?"
The assistant frantically nods and begins speaking into her Scroll. Watts sighs in relief at the peace and quiet, returning to his work. After what people have been calling the 'Reclamation of Mountain Glenn', SDC stocks took a hit while NEST somewhat rose. Miniscule really but it was just enough to anger those oh-so-mighty-and-powerful board members.
He knows Jacques can't afford to lose him and so he will simply verbally thrash him in front of everyone. But still, the idea of being humiliated sparks some rage inside him. As he smashes the keyboard furious, his assistant comes back,
"S-sir?"
"I told you, tell Jacques that I-" he says sounding frustrated but his assistant cuts him off,
"No sir, it's not about that. One of the engineers reported a malfunction on Subject G4A-01."
He sighs and gets up, storming to the hangar where the Gen IV sentinel models were located. The sleekest and fastest models are not yet on the market, but with capabilities that allow them to outperform most NEST AC models.
He brings up a holographic console with his digital rings and taps on them a secret code only a few higher-ups in the project know. Robotic arms stretched down and began using tools to unbolt the sealed shut cockpit before pressurized air was released as it was pried apart.
Hanging inside missing all of their limbs was one of the subjects, one who went through the experimental Gen IV process and came out a failure with full body paralysis and a lobotomy, and as such they were recycled.
The brain was mostly replaced with CPUs and a near-constant stream of combat stimulants to heighten reaction time beyond normal human limits even if that meant they burned out rather quickly. Their lower jaw was also replaced to save room for more hardware since breathing was no longer a concern with mechanized lungs and hearts proving 120% more efficient at pumping air and blood.
Somehow tears were leaking like a faucet out of the eyes as he rubbed his chin curious at the phenomena.
"Strange, you shouldn't be able to feel anything after your lobotomy. I'll have to look over your coroner report after this is over." Watts mutters as taps the CPU making up the upper half of the skull and creates a screen that displays the data, "Ah, there it is. A slight glitch in the system that connects you with AEGIS. I'll have that fixed in a moment."
However Watts then raises a brow at the strange muffles coming from what was once the subject's mouth, something barely audible,
"Kill…me…"
"Later, there's too much data in your logs." Watts says as he performs a system reset on G4A-01, eyes going blank before a blue glow resumes on their irises, "There we go. All systems were restored to normal. State your status."
"AEGIS connection stable…Biometric readings in acceptable standards…G4A-01 clear for deployment."
"Very good. Shut down and rest, will you?" Watts says as he straightens his back, "Ah, can't forget this, can I?"
He takes out a handkerchief to clean up the spilling tears, "Note to self, remove tear ducts for future subjects. Don't want to risk short-circuiting something inside."
With that done he seals back the cockpit and returns to his office with his nervous assistant trailing behind him, "Now if that is all, I'll be returning to my work."
"Well sir, there's also a private message for you. Regarding development for Project Seraphim."
"What a horribly busy day it is." Watts rubs the bridge of his nose, "The things we must sacrifice in pursuit of science…"
General James Ironwood*
"Does this satisfy you, General Ironwood?" one of the generals of Atlas asks leering at home with disapproval, "A multi-million Lien piece of equipment lost and the death of an Atlas pilot in a meaningless battle on foreign soil just to kill a few Grimm?"
All around him sat the members of the Atlas Security Council, made up of members of the military from the army, navy and special operations, and a few politicians. Together they were under the Secretary of Defence who was one of the members of the Round Table Council sitting above them.
"Is this a trial? Because if so I would like to know what exactly I have been charged with." Ironwood says ignoring the question,
"This is to discuss your recent actions in Vale, General Ironwood." the Secretary of Defense assures, "Many of us are questioning the choice of losing men to reclaim territory that isn't even ours. An Atlas citizen died so Vale could get their land back. Some may call this an incompetent act and inappropriate use of Atlas resources."
"Correction, Secretary." Ironwood corrects, "It's NEST Inc. that will be receiving this land, and the Vale Council has agreed upon its purchase that it was now independent territory belonging to and solely to NEST Inc."
"Which brings up another question." the same general who had spoken earlier says, "Why on Remnant are we granting this corporation more power? First their own private mechanized military and now enough land and resources for a city? They might as well become their own nation now! This is too far."
"I could say the same about the SDC, where their influence grants them practically control over plenty of cities all across Remnant. Being so ' influential' they have their own seat on the Round Table Council. Wouldn't you agree they are too powerful as well, General?" Ironwood asks glaring at him and the general pulls at his collar almost nervously,
"T-that is unrelated. We all know where the loyalty of the SDC lies, but not for the CEO of NEST Inc, who if I recall, only became citizens of Atlas thanks to you General James Ironwood!"
"And?" Ironwood asks unbothered, "Would you rather they become citizens of say Mistral, Vale, or Vacuo? At least this way we forge close ties with NEST Inc. and make sure our citizens benefit from them first and foremost. Especially with Project: PROMETHEUS, which I'm sure I've forwarded you all data regarding it."
"Yes…Project PROMETHEUS." the Secretary of Defence narrows his eyes, "Do you believe it to be possible, General Ironwood?"
"The specs check out, and I have utmost faith in their abilities." Ironwood nods,
"For all we know this Project may be a scam. An empty promise they'll be unable to fulfill." the general speaks skeptically, and almost desperately.
"And if not, it will be the greatest step ever taken in progress for all mankind. And Atlas will be at the head of it all." Ironwood insists, appealing to the nationalism in members of the council, "And if it means letting NEST have a city or two? It seems like a cheap price in the long run, don't you think? Not only that we helped NEST get where they are now, and I know Ayre to be a woman who pays her debts. A win-win scenario."
The council mutter amongst themselves as they look over the data before the Secretary sighs,
"...Very well, General Ironwood. You are found to be fit to resume your duties. This meeting has concluded." the Secretary nods.
Ironwood dismisses himself and leaves, where the newly promoted Lieutenant Winter Schnee is waiting outside,
"Is all well, sir?" she asks worriedly.
"They tried but they won't fire me, especially since I'm their liaison with NEST Inc.." Ironwood shrugs but is unable to keep the frustration out of his face, "But they were definitely looking for an excuse. The SDC are getting desperate."
"You think they were trying to remove you?" Winter asks before shaking her head, "Scratch that. Of course, they would. How many do you think are in their pockets?"
"Even one is too much." he mutters under his breath, "I hope Ayre knows what she's doing, for all our sakes. Else it's all our asses."
Ozpin*
"This is unprecedented. How could we have allowed this to happen?" one of the Vale Council members says looking aghast, "Selling Grimm-infested territory to a corporation is one thing. It's another that they've cleared Mountain Glenn, secured it, and are actively rebuilding it as we speak!"
"How could we have foreseen this?" another member mutters, "It was impossible, or so we thought. Now we're humiliated! A private corporation doing what an entire Kingdom could not."
"And now we have them as our neighbours." the third council member grumbles in defeat, "An Atlas-owned company running an entire city filled to the brim with those war machines. Ozpin, for Brother's sake, say something!"
Ozpin snaps out of his thoughts, his mind still thinking back to the footage of the Ancient Wyvern mutating before their very eyes spewing red lightning and summoning an unprecedented number of Grimm, even for an Ancient.
She shouldn't have the strength for that. It was too soon, or so he had believed. Reality told him otherwise. Which was all the more reason…
"Yes, of course." Ozpin clears his throat and straightens his glasses, "Time and time again, NEST Inc.'s CEO, Ayre, has shown she wants all of Remnant to benefit from her creations. We cannot take back a past deal you've made with her, the best we can do is build relationships and in time their advancement will benefit Vale."
"...I suppose you're right. Perhaps we're panicking a bit." one of them admits, "We have other matters to attend to besides worrying about NEST. Now, you said you have something to propose to us?"
"Indeed." Ozpin says as he slides over files of paperwork, "I would like to propose that NEST Inc. be allowed to teach AC piloting skills at Beacon."
Ayre & Raven*
"...You're nothing like them."
Raven snaps Ayre out of her thoughts, looking away from the desktop that contains the names of every man and woman who died during Mountain Glenn's reclamation.
"It feels like it…" Ayre mutters looking downcast as the words of Amelia's mother ring through her head, "I know why we do all this but still."
Raven places a comforting hand on her shoulder as Ayre leans on him with a heavy sigh, "I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss when it was just us. Now with all these responsibilities I'm starting to understand how the corporations think back on Rubicon…it would be so easy."
"Yes…but we're nothing like them…and you won't repeat their mistakes." Raven says firmly, "I believe in you…"
She gives him a smile before sighing, "I believe in what we made, Raven, but if NEST somehow ever becomes another Arquebus or Balam…"
"I'll burn it all down…don't worry…" Raven nods, "Never again."
"Good." Ayre sighs sounding better upon hearing that before souring, "But besides that there is also this."
She plays a video recording caught by one of the cameras which shows the outside of the weapon control room of the carrier before the footage suddenly goes black and upon returning only a trail of blood leading out of the room is seen.
"...Any luck yet?" Raven asks,
"No, but I believe I have a clue." Ayre says grimly bringing up a coroner report, "A few days after Glenn one of our security personnel on the carrier was found dead by overdose. There was a previous drug habit when he was younger but we made sure he was clean and sober before hiring him. I've tried contacting his family but no luck there as well."
"...Not a coincidence." Raven mutters, "Seen enough… cover ups to know…"
"My thoughts exactly." Ayre nods, "As for answers…Ozpin has claimed that he may know about the situation. He sent a message claiming to meet with him if I wish for them."
"...Do you trust him?" Raven asks as Ayre stood up to put on a coat,
"I like to keep a healthy sense of suspicion." Ayre shrugs, "I'll leave Glenn in your care then?"
"I'll be on the lookout…" Raven nods as he waves goodbye, "...See you at dinner."
Ayre smiles as she takes the lift to the roof of the former and recently repaired Merlot HQ, now the NEST Inc. New Glenn City Headquarters. Below her construction efforts have already begun, after a month a large number of city blocks surrounding NEST HQ were rebuilt and refurbished, with necessities such as water and power plants soon returning to functionality.
Walls were rebuilt and patched up, with reactivated and updated cannons scanning the horizon for any threats all the while MTs laid the groundwork for construction by demolishing and removing broken buildings and clearing the debris of the battle. Above the sky, ACs patrol watching over Glenn like hawks.
Ayre smiles at the sight. By the end of the year, they would be looking at a bustling city full of people. And then the first step towards PROMETHEUS will be taken.
???*
He whistles a tune to himself as he strolls along the path given to him. The dark purple grass blades withered away in front of him, forming a kind of dirt path leading to the dark foreboding castle in the distance which was surrounded by bushes of black vines and white teeth with glowing red eyes under them all.
Curiously he glances at a tree on the path and reaches for one of its black leaves only to wince as it was cut the moment he puts his hands on it, the 'tree' shaking in something akin to fury.
"...Beautiful," he whispers to himself in awe of these specimens. He made the right choice to come here after all, especially after his secrets may already be compromised given recent news. It's a shame to abandon all his research and equipment accumulated over the decades but alas, he has no choice if he wants a chance at it all bearing fruit.
As long as he still has the samples, all is well. And if his latest benefactor proves herself, all the better.
He politely knocks on the door leading to the castle which opens up by itself to his surprise, wondering what kind of phenomena it functioned under. Certainly, there doesn't appear to be any sort of mechanism.
He trots on through the candle-lit hallway, passing through rooms of the castle, with the occasional ancient painting and statue with designs and styles he does not recognise. One such painting was heavily faded with faces scratched out and barely visible but he thought it was a portrait of two people standing with four children.
Shrugging at his benefactor's strange taste in art he carries on until he reaches what he assumes to be the throne room of the castle judging by the throne made of Grimm arms linked together. With a mass of smoke sitting on it casually, a pale face barely visible through the smoke.
In front of her were two kneeling, a large burly man with muscles larger than his skull, and a beautiful woman with black hair and a red dress. And as he approached he could faintly hear what appeared to be faint screams coming from below them.
"Ignore that…Just a subordinate being punished for failure." the mass of smoke speaks as he looks at her, the visage slightly clearing and for a moment he believes he sees a pale woman with hair as white as snow and a dress as black as night itself. At least his organic eye does, his mechanical one sees otherwise, "The latest applicant…I must confess, having someone go through all the bother of discovering me, and then asking for a job is definitely a new experience. I do not get many people clambering at my doorsteps asking, usually, it is the opposite."
"Well, I am a man who favours taking the initiative, madam." he courtesies before her, but not kneeling. The ones that are kneeling flinch at this as the woman chuckles,
"You are amusing, I'll grant you that. Which is why I haven't allowed the Grimm to feed on you the moment you stepped into my realm." she waves what appears to be a hand to him, like a queen allowing a lesser to speak, "Tell me, what brings a dead man to my doorsteps, Doctor Merlot?"
"Well, madam. I believe we both have something to offer each other, with an emphasis on what I have to offer." Doctor Merlot smirks, "Frankly? I believe this little group of yours needs scientific support. And worry not, for I have come to offer my services at a very, very cheap cost."
He explains as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a vial of glowing green sustain with an oil-like texture, as the thing in front of him leans forward with interest in her glowing red eyes.
"Yes, I've seen some of your…work." She nods with what appears to be a smirk as she raises a 'hand' and a pool of black goo springs from cracks on the floor as both Merlot's eyes light up. It was what he came for, "Then I believe we shall discuss what would benefit you."