Menagerie was a land once known long ago as Eden, beautiful and luscious. Theorized by several prominent scientists and archeologists as the origin of Remnant itself, the birthplace of mortals. Every mortal on the planet, human or Faunus, was said to be descended from the first peoples of Eden.

War God after War God would come and go, kings and gods would fight, and the land would change. Ravaged by the fires of the weaponry and steel. Eden too did not survive such catastrophes. It would be burned and conquered by many that came before.

The God King Ozymandias once took this land from Mistral. With the power of the Holy Prophet King, and his eyes that could see far in the distance, he marched his army down south to take Eden with little resistance. Renaming it to Menagerie to use as a house for refugees and those deemed undesirable, illegals, outcasts, some criminals. Many Faunus also got caught in this predicament as part of the treaty between Mistral and the Valley, these Faunus would be put under Ozymandias's jurisdiction. With him in hiding, however, the Atlas Empire now took over the responsibilities, sending food and aid when needed.

Many sky ships would fill the clouds this day, soaring towards Menagerie with crates upon crates of supplies. Leading the flight of course was none other than the most powerful being on the planet herself.

Her cape would flutter behind her to block out the very sun itself. Legend often spoke of a Grimm monster with a wingspan so large it would create shadows across half the entire planet. When Weiss flew far above in the air she would often be mistaken for this mythical monstrous bird of legend.

"Look, mommy," one of the kids amongst the gathering crowd pointed her finger, tugging on her mother's sleeve. "It's the Superman."

"Don't come near her, honey." The woman pulled her daughter back.

"Oh, it's alright," Weiss smiled coldly as she landed. "Don't be afraid. I have great control of my strength."

"Forgive me, but I'd still like to be safe than sorry," said the woman.

"Why are you called Superman if you are a woman?" The little girl approached her, ignoring her mother.

The girl put a smile on Weiss's face. Kneeling down she patted the little girl on her head. Only now noticing how she still towered over the girl, with her cape and epaulettes creating an imposing silhouette.

"I am – that I am. You have my permission to call me whatever you wish. By a title, or by my name. I am Weiss Schnee by the way. Please to meet you."

The girl looked up at her with sparkling eyes of wonder.

"Miss Schnee, will I be able to fly like you when I grow up?"

Weiss's smile disappeared for a mere split second, before reappearing again, reassuring the little girl.

"Anything is possible if you believe – and if you tell the story of those who fly."

A commotion was heard in the distance as a couple began pushing through the gathering crowd around Weiss. Her hearing picked up their footsteps and their racing heart. She wasn't entirely sure if it was due to exhaustion, excitement, or anger.

There from the crowd emerged a large man and a woman, presumably they were husband and wife. The man stood taller than even Weiss herself, at a staggering eight foot at the very least. His dark black hair and thick beard melded together to form an imposing majestic expression, almost like that of a lion of sort. And it would not be far off, for this man was Ghira Belladonna, leader of the Faunus people here in Menagerie. He wore with him a tattered purple farmer's garment, a simple worker's tunic to work within the heat of this continent. For he was a man of the people, not a king.

There beside him was his wife, Kali Belladonna. Who herself was a modest woman wearing a similar tunic to her husband. She carried with her a long wooden rake, of which Weiss assumed must mean the two of them came from the nearby farm when Weiss and the Atlesians arrived – occupied with the ordinary hard labor. Her dark short hair was adorned with a purple head wrap of some kind, barely covering her cat ears. The woman marched forward with angry eyes of determination, yellow eyes focused toward Weiss herself with a hidden intensity within.

Weiss knew exactly why the woman was angry, and she hoped deep down inside she was ready to weather this storm.

"Salutation, Ms. Belladonna. Pleasure to see you," Weiss extended her hand to shake.

Only to be met with a surprise slap to the face, coming out of left field as Kali dropped the rake on the ground. Weiss's vision was able to see fast enough to predict the slap coming. But she still did not dodge, taking the full impact of the swing. Which wasn't even able to hit hard enough to make her head tilt. It was as if Kali was smacking on a block of stone – or a block of diamond.

"You dare show your face here after what you did to my son?" Kali growled. "That's right, I saw what happened on the news. You people disgust me, parading around a prisoner for execution. You think that's something to be proud of?"

Weiss could only respond with a sigh:

"Your hand, you're hurt. I don't need my enhanced vision to see the broken bones. Please let me help you."

"Don't you dare touch me you monster. Bring my son back goddamn it! I told you to stay out of White Fang business, why didn't you fucking listen?"

"Kali, please," Ghira said, gently restraining her.

"Let go of me, Ghira. You're gonna let this flying witch and her Empire take our son and daughter just like that? I said let go!"

"He was a criminal, Kali," Weiss said sternly. "He tried to rob a train. And he cut the entire thing in half."

"He wasn't a criminal!" Kali cried, "He was lost, confused."

"I can't go easy on him just for you, Kali. There are standards to uphold, I can't make exceptions."

"How rich of you to bring up standards. Don't try to take the moral high ground here when you and your Empire are out there ruining people's lives."

"Enough, Kali," Ghira pulled her back gently. "The Empire is here to help, we should be hospitable."

"How long are you going to continue licking their boots, Ghira? They took our son! And you're just going to let them get away with it?"

"Better be under their supervision than to live under the rule of the Prophet King," he said. "Under his rule, we would've been slaves, or worse."

"Please, Kali," Weiss extended her hand. "We have medical supplies to treat your hand. Let me help you. Let me make things right."

Kali only responded to the gesture by spitting on Weiss's face. Weiss still did not move, merely standing there taking the full brunt of her anger. Weiss felt no urge for vendetta, instead, she only felt an immense sadness swelling from within. Kali pulled herself from Ghira's restraint and walked off away from the crowd, but not before uttering her final words:

"You've done enough. I hope you rot in hell."

Ghira could do nothing but watch as she trailed off into the distance. His tensed muscle relaxed, as a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Sighing, he felt as if he had been holding back an entire train. He knew he was only holding back his wife, but his body was still shivering. Hands trembling with exhaustion.

"How is Ilia these days?" Ghira turned to Weiss. "Is she… doing okay?"

"She's still getting used to school and all that. But she's settling in okay. Our housing programs are top-notch, don't you worry. I'll fly to help if I ever hear any trouble. She's a very skilled young woman, she has talent. If she passes the Academy she may have a bright future working as a detective."

Ghira nodded his head solemnly.

"Ghira, you know your son isn't being executed, right? He's being tried. They are going to give him a fair trial. That's the law."

"I don't think Kali sees it that way," he shook his head.

"You'll at least come to the trial, won't you?"

"Of course. But… um, do you think you can talk to the DA, or whoever is in charge. Maybe get him a reduced charge? My wife's heart may give in if any more bad news show up to our door."

"He still has to answer for what he's done. A lot of men died on that train that day. It is a complicated matter, though. As it is with all cases involving juveniles and young men. But… I'll see what I can do. If I talk to them, they may be able to get him a shorter sentence, or some community service. Just some hours per week for a few years. You may even be able to visit."

"Thank you… you have been a great help to this world. But… Kali does have a point about the Empire. There are things that are – questionable."

"What do you mean? We are here trying to do good, Ghira. Atlas has managed to completely wipe out the Grimm population of the Northern lands. We're here to do the same in the Valley and these Southern lands."

"Yes, but subjugation? That's how my wife described it. Why march your army down south when you alone could fly across the globe and wipe out the remaining Grimm population. You can do that… can you?"

"This Council recognizes the valor you have displayed serving this country, GA Jameson S. Ironwood, just as it recognizes the contributions you have made alongside fellow Fleet Admiral Maru and GAF Samantha Vulf during the numerous Northern campaigns against Grimm and pirates alike. While the intentions are laudable, this Council announces that further expansion into the Western lands of Vacuo would no doubt be considered an act of aggression towards King Theodore and his peoples, thus a declaration of war would be inevitable. Thereby we the Council of Atlas must reject proposition RW-8YRV82281 by the esteemed GA Jameson S. Ironwood. This meeting is adjourned."

Thus, with the strike of the gavel, the men and women of this round table would promptly dismiss themselves from the room in an orderly fashion. They spoke not a word amongst themselves, simply walking away without much thought to what had happened. Leaving behind just General Ironwood and his two close assistants and friends Professor Arthur Watts and Doctor Pietro Polendina.

"Who would've thought," said Watts, "the same country that had no problem taking over the Valley would now hesitate to take over the Kingdom of Sand."

"I don't think they're hesitating," said Ironwood. "I think we're still on the same page, but they must think that it's best to bide our time."

"Gentlemen, please," said Pietro. "Our goal should be the extermination of Grimm kind on the Western lands."

"Indeed," said Ironwood. "I don't enjoy the taking of these lands, but it is the best course of action for the country, and for the world. That's just a fact."

"We'll probably disagree on that over dinner, old friend," Pietro smiled.

Their conversation would then be interrupted by the door of the conference room swinging open as Weiss Schnee floated casually inside. The three men just mere moments ago heard her flying back by the rumble and noise outside the building, instinctively turning their heads toward the door when she landed, though technically speaking her feet never actually touched the ground, but they could still hear her. It was a habit for them at this point.

"Weiss, honey," Pietro walked forth, pulling her in for a hug. "How was your day? You're not too tired?"

"No, Pa," Weiss smiled, embracing him back. "I never get tired, you know that."

"I worry, is all. I know it's been stressful for you lately."

"Indeed," Professor Watts stroke his mustache. "You are very strong my dear, but I hope that isn't stopping you from attending your classes."

"No, sir," Weiss responded. "Even when on duty I can still hear your lecture, I've even memorized the one you had this morning. I'll have your report assignment turned in by tomorrow, you can be sure of that."

"Let us hope so," Watts nodded, before taking out a cigar and lighting it with his golden lighter.

Professor Watts had always been a good man, with a very strict way of life, one he tried to instill in every single one of his pupils, including Weiss herself. She had a great deal of respect for the man, but she could never really get a good read on what he was really thinking. He was very similar to Rubio in that regard.

But the most enigmatic person in this entire room was not Professor Watts. But rather…

"General Schnee," the General saluted her where he stood.

Here was a man so robotic and cold even Weiss Schnee the Ice Princess herself often found difficult to handle. From the immaculate way he dressed to his firm posture, it was sometimes hard to believe that this was a human being and not some kind of highly developed Atlesian android. Weiss knew for a fact that if she were to fight this man, she could effortlessly crush him like a bug if she so wished.

But the fighting Aura this man exuded was something unlike any other human being she had met. It was strong as iron or steel, with a heavy dominating gaze of power. He was human, yes, but he also commanded the most powerful army on the planet. Weiss Schnee was the envoy of this army, the flag that waved in the far distance whenever they would march forth into battle and conquest. But a flag could never replace the hand that carried that banner.

There was something about him that commanded respect. A will from within that dominated the minds of weaker men and women. Something else about the General too that Weiss scarcely ever noticed – and it was the fact that this man was incredibly tall, abnormally so. If she wasn't floating off the ground right now, she would be looking up to this man from below.

"Gentlemen," Ironwood turned to his two colleagues, "can you give us a moment? Thank you."

Watts and Pietro nodded their heads, walking out of the room. Not before Pietro took Weiss in once more to kiss her on the cheek.

"Don't be home too late, now."

"I won't, I'll pick up dinner on the way home," she said, kissing him back.

And thus the two left Weiss and the General alone in this conference room.

"So," said the General, "report, Miss Schnee. Did you get him to talk?"

"I did, sir. Rubio is still Rubio. He is a good man. But not Atlesian, he was insistent on that. He wants to talk to the Belladonna boy, he said it will help him find King Oz much easier this way."

Ironwood sighed:

"I can never understand how his Semblance works. Well, if he says it will work then I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm just concerned is all."

"About what?"

"Ozymandias is an incredibly powerful wizard. People say he was a fraud, a charlatan but I wouldn't be so quick to doubt his power. There is a lot of trickery and illusion magick he is capable of, things Atlesian science can't fully explain. His fighting Aura is also very peculiar, too."

"You have experience fighting him?"

"Well, I never met him directly myself. But the Fleet Admiral has. You can ask him about it, but I don't think he's ready to divulge the secrets behind all of his scars. Those two have tried to kill each other more times than I can count. But anyway, if Rubio said he can do it, then go ahead and proceed with the plan. I don't trust him, but if you do, then that may be good enough."

"What do you mean you don't trust him?"

"Rubio is one of the most dangerous men on the planet. His ability to see the future is peculiar. You can't seriously tell me you haven't noticed that this is the same ability as that so-called Prophet King."

"Are you suggesting that Rubio is actually Ozymandias in disguise?"

"It's unlikely," Ironwood admitted, "but it is still in the realm of possibility. Must I remind you that we still have yet to retrieve the body of the one Summer Rose? Without it, you cannot confirm his DNA. The blood of royals and legends should not be underestimated as well. We Atlesians are not like these people of the Valley. Their blood is thick, and immensely powerful. There is some unexplainable magick within their bloodlines that is still a mystery to Atlesian science. That is why I do not trust him."

Weiss paused for a moment, looking at the General in the eyes. Their gaze met, ice and steel. She scanned something on his features, he wasn't entirely sure what. But she looked upon him for a good long while before descending on the ground, feet firmly planted on the floor and walked up to him, looking up:

"General – if I weren't Atlesian, would you still trust me?"

His eyes never once diverted elsewhere, he never even blinked when confronting this young woman. Instead, he simply held her by the shoulders, before patting down her epaulettes as if he were wiping dust off them. Readjusting them to align perfectly with her uniform. He then proceeded to readjust her red tie, tugging at it ever so slightly to make sure it wasn't coming loose.

"Wear this uniform proudly Miss Schnee. We're all counting on you. Go to your class now, don't miss any of the lectures. And make sure you're eating properly, three meals a day. You're dismissed for the day – General."

Ironwood said as he saluted her before turning his back to the glass window of the conference room, contemplating something as he stared forth in the distance. Ironwood had always had the reputation of being a man who took concern for his men, for his soldiers, even back when he was just a simple private, working his way up the ranks. The man never forgot his roots, and would often be seen visiting the cemetery to honor old fallen soldiers. Weiss saw it herself while she was on patrol.

For someone as cold and stern as the General, Weiss could always take comfort in the weird fact that Ironwood was a straightforward man, one she could easily read like an open book. She didn't really understand it herself, but there weren't any secrets for her to dig up, or for anyone for that matter. Everything Ironwood had ever done was publicized and recorded down somewhere either in a news article, or a history book. They would even go as far as to teach the history of this man's life in elementary schools. This man was a hero, and the reason why people entrusted him to be the General of the Atlesian Army.

This was someone Weiss respected and looked up to, she thought to herself as she floated down the hallway. Being the strongest being on the planet, Weiss was appointed a high-ranking military position as a token, a symbol of the Atlesian envoy. She was a general in name, but she wasn't assigned a division of soldiers. She commanded no man nor woman, because her job was not to lead an army like Ironwood. Instead, her job was to inspire the army.

Weiss always felt she had much to learn from the General even after attaining this godlike strength. Crushing the planet into smithereens would be absolute child's play. But in order to unite the peoples and command their armies required a different set of skills entirely. It was a task that Weiss thought may be impossible even for someone blessed with the strength she possessed. Strength of force could not and will not unite the peoples' hearts.

Lost deep in thought, Weiss was then snapped back to reality when she was confronted by a figure standing at the end of the hallway – it was a student, a young blond man, one she recognized from before.

"Your name," she hovered closer, "it's Jaune – Jaune Arc, right?"

"Yes, ma'am… General, sir… um… ahem… Superman…" the young man fumbled, scratching his head. Before adjusting himself into an awkward salute.

"What are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Ah, well about that… yes. We were in the middle of our swordsmith workshop and I asked to be excused to my locker room, and… well… I forgot something, so I went down here to check and…"

"You're a terrible liar," Weiss cut him off. "Your heart is beating like an orchestral drum, even without my enhanced eyes I could still hear it from a mile away."

"You got me, ha," he laughed nervously.

"Out with it. The truth this time."

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "The truth. Wow, this isn't going to be easy to say. I was going over in my head trying to figure out what I wanted to say. I even practiced in front of the mirror if you can believe it."

"Go on."

"Well… okay, here goes."

The young man glanced up at the tall floating Weiss, with her arms crossed, ready to listen. His eyes almost seemed to glisten with sweat, somehow. It seemed bizarre, but he proceeded to blurt out:

"I really like you. Will you go out with me?"

Many things began cycling through her mind the moment those words left his mouth. A million questions popped up, but the peculiar thing here was the fact that none of these things were born from any sense of confusion, shock or even from being flustered.

No, instead the emotions swelling only made Weiss grimace, frowning into a death gaze with ice-cold determination. She was scanning the boy intently, using every ounce of power she could muster to empower her godlike vision in order to detect the hidden treachery within this young man.

The words Ironwood warned her about echoed back to her at this very moment. The words proclaiming that King Ozymandias, master magician and trickster, one of the most powerful men on the entire planet was capable of a magick that would drive one to insanity trying to decode.

The Atlesian Empire was the most dominant force on this planet, but the forces behind the Prophet King Oz were not to be underestimated. A master illusionist would surely have spies among the midst of this mighty city. Roaming the streets of the Valley, pretending to be just like any ordinary citizen. Waiting within the shadows to strike at those who let their guard down. This was something dangerous, and not to be trifled with. One must be vigilant, quick to pick up any hints that things may be off. Even the smallest of details must not be disregarded.

"Go to class now," Weiss told him sternly. "I won't ask you twice."

And just like that, she flew off down the hallway and out into the open sky. It took a mere few seconds before she arrived at the office of records across the wide Academy campus. Where she barged inside, walking on air. There on the reception table sat Ceil Soleil, apprentice secretary, Weiss assumed. Since the regular receptionist was nowhere to be seen and there was currently an apprentice program the Professors were hosting across campus.

"Give me all the files you have on Jaune Arc," Weiss demanded, to which Ceil simply nodded.

Typing into the computer, she managed to pull up a complete history sheet on the holographic display in front of them. Everything there was to know about this young student on the page, to which Weiss scanned within a few seconds before declaring that there did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary. At first glance at least.

The boy was from the Valley originally, with great-grandparents who emigrated from the Kingdom of Mistral, who then married into the Valeans. Normally that may have been a cause for concern being a Valean but in this case, it did not seem very likely due to his unremarkable performance as both a student and a fighter. Mediocre physique and academic performance, with even several notes from the professors to possibly send the boy back home to find work elsewhere on the countryside. His weaponry was just an ordinary sword and shield with no Dust augment of any kind. And his Aura levels were not anything to write home about either.

Regardless of the facts, Weiss still remained vigilant and continued to scan through the records, scrolling down trying to find anything worth looking into. All of it was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, however. Turning around Weiss came face to face with a young girl who looked too familiar, but one she could not immediately recognize.

The girl stood there wearing a black dress with red frills, over her shoulders were a familiar piece of a cloak, sewn in a crimson color almost looking as if it was dipped in blood. She had very short hair with a few red accents throughout, her bangs draping over that familiar pair of silver eyes. Once Weiss noticed the color, she instantly knew right there and then who this was.

"Rubio?"

The girl simply responded to the greeting with a grin.

AN: changed one of the names of the military commanders, mixed up one of the OCs.