The clicking of heels registered into my ears. A screeching halt and a pair of lips curled into a scowl.

Winter Schnee was the very image of picture-perfect. Everything about her was meticulously maintained with military precision. Her snow-white hair shone like ice, her skin creamy pale, and her uniform was crisp, shiny, and form-fitting. The white-grey uniform of Atlas Academy, the premier educational institution for Huntsmen in the Kingdom of Atlas. The glare she sent would have been intimidating if she was in fact her future Specialist self but at this time, she was nothing more but a student navigating the frills and challenges of school life.

I greeted her warmly, my face shining like the sun. "Ah, Schnee. You look absolutely wonderful. How may I help you?"

My voice was welcoming and sincere. To the Heiress however, it might as well be mocking. She showed her regard to my welcome by stepping forward a bit and looking directly into my eyes.

"My father just called me, Wayland. He just told me that your family refused to sell," Winter said, trying to keep her voice from raising. I raised an eyebrow at that.

"And what? Daddy sent you here to intimidate me?" I asked sweetly, tilting my head in full mockery. Winter Schnee's eyebrows curled down, fury growing on her face. Around us, the other students gave a wide berth to avoid the growing volcano threatening to erupt in the locker room as well as to watch the unfolding drama unfold. I thought about defusing the situation. I was technically Winter's senior, mentally speaking. But to be frank, I was feeling spiteful at that moment and poking the Schnee Heiress with a stick.

Winter however was smarter than that. The controlled sigh that left her body indicated her awareness of me trying to goad her to explode. Some students audibly made their displeasure at that, expecting Winter to freak out at me. A quick glare from Winter sent their way made them freeze. With that squared, Winter turned her attention back to me. She was still visibly pissed however.

"Your family is bankrupt, Wayland. The sale of your company to the SDC would have saved your family from destitution," Winter explained, trying her best to sound sympathetic but her emotional control wasn't particularly good. Instead, she sounded insincere.

The company she was referring to was the Royal and Imperial Arms Company. In short, we made weapons. Lots of weapons. The idea of a weapons manufacturer going bankrupt would normally be ludicrous since the profession had gone back since man picked up rocks to toss at the other guy, let alone in a world populated by shadow murder monsters born of a lover's quarrel and idiot gods. However, when the former CEO is saddled with financial scandals (Thanks grandad) and the competition makes items that are significantly cheaper than yours then it was easy to see why the company would near the fate of the dodo.

At Winter's words, I decided to be frank. And with each word, I took a step towards Winter until our noses were near touching. Her pale blue eyes never left my own lava red. "My family have held Royal and Imperial for three hundred years. Our weapons had allowed Mantle to turn ice-frost Solitas into an Empire, well, until it no longer was one. Our weapons, they are prized as museum pieces and collectors items."

My expression was dour, betraying my contempt for the girl infront of me. I did not have contempt for winter not because she was a particularly terrible person. In fact, I admired her for her intelligence and competence. I held contempt for her because her dad was Jacques Schnee. And that cretin deserved nothing but contempt. Until Winter cast off the title of Heiress to the SDC, Jacques Schnee would no likely be treating her as his eye and ear in the Academy. Hence, the words I spoke next were sure to be heard by him as soon as Winter would return.

"We will never, ever sell R&I to anyone. Let alone to your cretin father, Winter. He will turn R&I from a illustrious institution into a unimaginative monster that will produce nothing but inferior mass produced trash; much like the other companies the SDC have bought," I ended with a sneer.

Was this petty and spiteful? Totally.

Would it win me any points with Winter? She was looking at me with a fury matched by a racist about to call a faunus a slur.

Would it infuriate Jacques Schnee? Absolutely.

And that made everything worth it.

Winter for her part swallowed her fury, adopting a gracious mask and smile. "Very well, Wayland. Cling on to your past glories. It is well known that nobles cling onto pride when they have nothing else left," Winter said, affording me one last quick glare before turning around and marching off, no doubt to tattle to daddy about what I just said. I watched her retreat with thin lips. Then, I turned to the crowd of students watching it all unfold. Seeing me look at them, they walked off, visibly disappointed that Winter and I did not challenge each other to a duel to settle our differences.

I sighed, shrugged my shoulders, and returned to attending to my locker.

Dying and being reborn in a new world was an exciting prospect. It allowed my a new lease on life and I was happy to learn that my parents were rather loaded. And being born in RWBY meant that I could do things I could only dream about. However, the elation at being born into RWBY meant that I would inevitably be caught up in the catastrophe that was RWBY. Shadow immortal machines, secret plots, and idiot gods, Remnant was not a place that anyone could consider pleasant. The main villains aside, the Grimm were a normal fact of life here and if I was born outside Atlas, the chance that I would be murdered to death by Grimm wasn't out of the question.

Now, the biggest problem was easily Salem. Through her, the Grimm were spawned. Through her, the kingdoms would always be at threat. However and despite her talk of wanting to kill everything, she was taking her sweet ass time with it. The witch was lethargic, content to idle away in the Grimmlands and letting the humans she hated populate and even form kingdoms of their own.

As far as I was concerned, Salem can sit in her tower and munch glue as much as she liked. I wasn't even going to pretend that I wanted to save the world when I don't. That was a problem for RWBY to deal with. And with the whole travelling back in time shit, they would no doubt suceed in some way, or they won't. I had lost track of the plot after Volume 5.

No, I was going to do something else.

Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money!

Now first, I just needed to enact my plan.

Quitting the Academy and getting a small loan of a million lien.

In a move that surprised totally no one, the SDC would later announce a increase of Dust prices, citing recent problems with mining and transport. Ironically, this sort of excuse wasn't a uncommon problem as Solitas was a frozen hellhole. Issues with logistics popped up every now and then. It was interesting however that the SDC would announce these issues when a company would refuse to be purchased by them and in a world that relied on Dust heavily to make its products, those companies would be forced to bankruptcy from the predatory and monopolistic move.

Ensconced in my father's private study, we watched the news reporter speak on the announcement.

"...The Northern Rail-line is undergoing a temporary repair after Grimm activity damaged the tracks. While the SDC has announced it has begun alternative routes to ensure continuous flow of Dust, the pinch from this disruption will be felt." The view then switched to a SDC representative speaking on a podium while the media watched on.

"The SDC is committed to ensuring that Atlas will never run out of Dust. We've stabilized transport with the use of airships. While this has allowed the flow to continue, we regretfully have to announce a temporary increase in pricing to facilitate this. The SDC will do everything in its power to return to normal operations as soon as possible."

As a load of questioning began, my father took the remote and turned the tv off. The flat-screen blackened and all was quiet save for the snow fall and urban noise of Atlas on the outside. There, my father sat behind his desk, his face contemplative.

"Our stock is in the red," he announced grimly, his fingers locked in a Gendo pose. Gerard Wayland would have been a perfect copy of Geralt of Rivia if its wasn't for the business-like suit he wore and his short-cropped hair. He then continued. "And now, the SDC is going to make us suffer for us telling them to fuck off. They say it was a accident in the North but we know better. Jacques is a brilliant snake but he is a spiteful man especially when pride is on the line."

Hearing my father swear was still something I still found amusing. Our family was high-class, nobles if Mantle was still a kingdom. Yet, he swore like a commoner and rough to the edges. I shook my head at that, focusing on the current issue at hand. I had returned to the Wayland Manor as soon as classes was over. I was planning to quit the academy anyway so trying to stay there was a frank waste of my time. I was going to help my father through this crisis, whatever the cost.

After all, it was going to be my company too.

"How are our employees? The board?" I asked him. He grunted.

"The Board were already panicking by our company going in the red. This will surely spook them more. I will not be surprised if-"

And just like that, his scroll rang. Father sighed, picking it up. Words were exchanged and father's face began to age visibly. He sighed again as the call ended and he leaned back on his chair. He glanced outside the window, frowning.

"The Board?" I easily surmised. He nodded, his finger tapping the arm-rest of his chair. Quietly, I stood up and poured for him a glass of water. Silently, I went to his side, offering him the glass. He turned to me, gave me a grateful look, and drank. He finished it, slamming the glass back on his desk.

"They are convening at the Foundry as we speak. They want an answer to this crisis and quick," Gerard muttered.

I dragged my chair and sat next to him. "And what is our response?"

My father grit his teeth as he dug his nails into the arm-rest. Then, he forced himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and settled into a meditative state. Then, he opened them again. What life there was was gone as he spoke.

"I don't know," he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

He shook his head. "When your grand-father decided to open up Royal and Imperial to the public, it was done to save us from bankruptcy after the Great War. We had to pay reparations after all and much of our company was downsized. Now and with a fraction of our size left, we have little options." He sat up straighter, adjusting his tie. He then continued. "We could always sell the company but you and I both know that is not an option. We could also downsize our staff. This would ensure that the Board will still have their money but we will in turn lose our workforce. Your grandfather was many things, a womanizing fool and a gambling addict but he valued talent. I am not going to let our people suffer."

I nodded in approval. Nobbles Oblige and all.

My father turned his eyes to me. "Do you have an ideas, son?"

Despite his weariness, he still managed to afford me warmth as a father ought to. I appreciated that. Gerard Wayland was many things but neglecting his family wasn't one of them.

"You could take a pay-cut, ensure that our people won't suffer through this time. It's not as if you and I ever need to worry about starving anyway," I offered. Gerard leaned in, his eyes twinkling with approval.

"I'll announce that at the board meeting. This still won't solve our issues with our board members and the company as well either," he continued. There was a shadow that plagued his eyes as he leaned in. "I am also quite confident that some of the bastards there are in the SDC's pay. I will not be surprised if some of them will try to coup me or suggest giving in to Schnee."

An idea came into my head. "Father, my inheritance money. Is it still there?"

He nodded, a questioning eyebrow raised. "Yes, it is still there. Why?"

I smiled. "I would like it released."

Father leaned back, his face icy. "Here we are in the middle of financial crisis and you want your money?"

I moved to assure him. "No, it's not what you think."

He deigned me a look. "Explain."

"With the money released to me, I can go buy back stock that any wavering member of the board owns. That way, we give them an out of a crumbling company as they see it. That will return control of the company back to us. I am also quite sure that with how low the stock is, they would be willing to sell it back for a pittance. The rest, I am willing to offer to our workforce as a show of goodwill for loyalty, if they stay. And then, there's the other projects." I explained quickly. As I spoke, my father became less icy and more welcoming of the idea. His eyebrow remained raised in regards to my mentioning of other projects.

I took that as a sign to continue. "Now, you've mentioned that the Foundry is pretty much going to receive a hit in terms of production thanks to the SDC clamping up on Dust. That has given me an idea, what if we go expand into non-dust items?"

"Non-dust items," Gerard Wayland repeated. "Son, you know as well as I do that everyone uses Dust for everything."

"Not everyone," I parried. I leaned in. "Tell me, father. Who were our biggest customers?"

"The Mantlese Army which is now the Atlesian Army," replied Gerard. "However, contracts have dried up thanks to the SDC barging in the arms industry. Bastards didn't even bother to make a division for it, just blanketed it as another arm of the SDC like the monopolistic thieves they are." he ended with a hiss.

I thankfully would not mention to him that our company did hold a monopoly in the military-industrial complex until the SDC started throwing hands.

"Then we sell to other parties, to new customers," I suggested. "For example, the many hundreds of townships in the boonies who would surely appreciate arms that would use as little dust as possible. We could not even stop at weapons alone. We could start on other non-dust commodities too but until then, let's focus on what we know first which are weapons."

Outside the walls of every major kingdom were settlements started by people who were sick of the restraints of city life. While they were free of the bullshit of the cities, they would have to face the hardship of the Grimm on their own. In Solitas, there were hundreds of settlements alone. Hell, there were most likely thousands more in the other continents.

Father hummed as he considered my suggestion. "It could work should we tighten our belts and commit to this." He glanced at me again. "The Board will need more to show our commitment though. You know how they are."

I shrugged my shoulders. "If us quite literally tightening our belts won't convince them, tell them that I am willing to halt my education at Atlas Academy to commit myself to the company."

That got father to widen his eyes. By law, Atlesian citizens had to send their children to the Academy. Unlike the other schools, AA was also a military preparatory institution and you need to graduate there if one wanted to enter the military. Barring that, it was also a rite of passage for those who lived in the Northern Kingdom. One thing that the writers probably didn't expect was for Atlas to model itself on Prussia a bit too much. That or Starship Troopers.

He closed his eyes, sighing once more.

"I am sorry, son, that your grandfather and father couldn't stop this crisis in the crib. You shouldn't have to deal with issues like this," my father lamented, his voice shaking. I could see the edges of his eyes start to water and I immediately moved in, bringing my old man in a hug. I held him there for what seemed like an eternity before I eventually pulled away. I placed both my hands on his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes, my voice steely.

"Iron and Blood," I said, repeating the motto of the company. Both to show my fealty to the legacy of the family and to remind my father what had gotten us this far. He stopped the tears in his eyes as the familiar steely look that grandfather wore came to him.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, repeating my words.

"Iron and Blood," he muttered, a bloody vow that despite everything, we were going to look at this crisis in the face and beat it to death. With our spirits raised, he stood up.

"We need to head to the Foundry. I shall talk with the board, I need you to speak to our workers. Assure them that everything will be alright. If they exit the factory looking unbothered, it will show to the world and to the SDC that we have a plan and this bullying by the SDC will fail." said father. "Regarding your suggestion, do you have ideas on what sort of weapons we can produce?"

"I might have a few ideas," I said, my eyes twinkling.

Being established long into an industry fosters a sense of calm. But with recent rumbles both in the company and out of it, the calm had begun to morph into a sort of sea shake. Leon Gold found himself and many others shuffled onto a courtyard. Before them was a grandstand where a singular podium stood, the seal of the company emblazoned against the wood, a crowned Solitan eagle clutching a sword and a ancient scroll.

He was a line worker like many others in the courtyard, still clad in their overalls and gloves. Despite the warm protective clothing however, it did not dissuade the icy chill coursing through his spine. They weren't alone though. Members of the media had shown up with cameras to record the upcoming speech.

Rumors had been flying left and right about potential layoffs to save the company. Despite the encouraging words their foremen would tell them, talk was difficult to stifle when the factory floor saw less and less items leaving and the foremen themselves were discussing about problems above. Now with the SDC announcing a increase in Dust prices, Atlesian society was going to feel the pinch.

He thought of his family at home, his daugther and his wife. While Sheila worked a job and Louisa wasn't exactly a baby anymore, losing his job would surely mean that his family would feel a strain.

That was if he was actually going to get laid off.

Noel was certainly keen about that. The lowering of pay for the past months was a sign of that, he had argued. And now, the fat cats were going to announce their departure from the company with nothing more than thanks and a hand pointing out the door.

Leon didn't get taken by his depressing talk. He had worked in the company far longer than Noel was and while he didn't know the Waylands directly, he had encounter Mister Wayland once and the blue-blood afforded him a pat on the back and decent conversation. From their track record, the Waylands were very protective of their talent and labourers. But that was during times of plenty. Now was a time of tight belts.

The mettle of the Waylands and of the company was going to be tested soon enough as a hush settled in the courtyard. On the grandstand, a tall pale youngster ascended the podium. He looked a veritable copy of Mister Gerard except dialled back in time. If Leon didn't know better, he would have thought that one of the gallery paintings in the factory entrance hall had come to life for young Alexander had donned the Blue Tunic of his ancestors, a military-style uniform with a red sash around his waist, shining black boots that would have blinded anyone if it reflected against the light, and a cap planted on his short-cropped white hair.

If anything, he did look fashionable.

"Gentlemen and ladies of the company, I have asked all of us to gather here to discuss the latest events happening in Atlas," he began, his voice smooth and comfortable. Leon glanced around and found that the calm tone had sucked them in. Well, if he had a buttery voice like that then he surely would be speaking more. Leon dropped his musings aside and leaned in to listen to the youngster's speech.

"Unlike other companies who will lie to you, I shall not. You all have worked for Royal and Imperial well. With your hands, sweat, and tears, you made sure that this company produced nothing but quality. We wouldn't have had such a long and storied history if it weren't for you all," Alexander spoke with utmost sincerity, as if he was pouring out the emotions straight from his heart. Leon felt alarm at his phrasing. Usually, this was the tone companies would use before laying down the clincher, the hammer.

He bit his lip, awaiting the inevitable coup de grace.

"This company is undergoing a massive shift. We have been in the red for awhile. You have all noticed that we are making less arms than before. That is because contracts have dried up. Now with the SDC raising Dust prices, this will make the cost of operating everything much more expensive. The standard procedure would be to announce a massive layoff, to preserve the finances of the company."

His fists tightened. The men and women around him watched with bated breath as their fates hung by a thread. The next words that left Alexander's mouth left him agape and confused.

"It is with pride that I announce that Royal and Imperial will not do that," Alexander said, his eyes twinkling.

Murmurs left the crowd of workers as they all glanced another. Alexander continued to speak, regaining control of the audience. "The success of a company is through the men and women comes with leadership, yes. But that leadership can only function thanks to the men and women that labour under them. You all are valued members of this institution, so much so, that my father will announce to the board that he will undertake a 100% percent paycut and instead inject that cash into your wages. I too will also take a pay cut and have my money instead go to you all. If you yourself are undergoing issues financially, please organize a letter and have it sent to me and I shall see about assisting you. I wish to give my all to this company that I will halt my education at Atlas Academy, to fulfil my duties here."

If the crowd wasn't captured fully then, they were now. This was unprecedented. A CEO and his second going without salaries? And furthermore, halting his education at the Academy? That was unthinkable in Atlas, a kingdom that loved making money as much as it loved its military. The question was, why?

Why would they do this?

Alexander would quickly explain. "Royal and Imperial doesn't do half-measures. We will not offer you platitudes and emptiness. We will take care of you especially at this time of financial stringency. Through this relationship, it has fostered a company culture unlike any other. Through this, we have come through difficult times in the past and came out stronger. Each one of you are an important piece of this company; your talent and hardwork so valuable that others will resort to force to which they cannot claim by right." the youngster ended with all to visible sneer.

A sneer that many of them picked up on. Leon himself found his lips frowning. Of course, the SDC and their new CEO, Jacques Schnee. To think that the bastards would resort to predatory tactics simply because the Waylands would not sell. Well if they thought they were going to get him and his skills, they were dead wrong. Not when their Heir himself was risking societal ridicule.

"The road ahead is going to be long, the company will undergo decisions that will be new and challenging. However, the company motto is Iron and Blood. With Iron, we will persevere. And with our Blood, we will win. The question is, will we find you with us at the frontlines? Will you help us in this challenge? Will you be with us at the breach?"

At first, there was silence. Not a single worker knew what to say.

Leon Gold had no idea what to do at this moment, not when the courtyard was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. His mind went into a frenzy of thought. He had expected to be laid off but no, the Waylands were literally going without a salary and Alexander himself was halting a career in the army for them and the company. Because of them, he was still going to have a job. Because of them, his family wouldn't feel the pinch of a tightening economy. Because of Gerard and Alexander Wayland, his daughter could live in peace.

He felt some doubt in the back part of his mind. What was he, a line worker, capable of that warranted such sacrifice? He didn't know what hidden talent he had but he was going to reply the Heir with a answer he deserved.

Loyalty.

"I am!" he cried out. But he was not the only one to do so for a wave of cries and affirmations roared throughout. The Waylands had done their part for the workers. And now, the workers were going to do their part for them. Loyalty for loyalty, justice for justice.

Alexander smiled from behind the podium. "Then let's get to it pell-mell. If not together to heaven, then hand in hand to hell!"

"...And so comes with the latest reports from the Royal and Imperial Arms Factory. Alexander Wayland has announced a financial stringency period for the top executives starting with himself and his father to retain their workers. Already, CCT users and labour groups are praising this move for its wisdom. Many particularly hail the R&I Heir's speech."

The screen shifted to that of a young man on a podium. "...Then let's get to it pell-mell. If not together to heaven, then hand in hand to hell!"

There was a click and soon, the television turned black.

Winter stood at attention as her father lowered the remote on his table first before swivelling his chair to fully face her. He leaned in, hands crossed on his desk.

"And what do you have to say regarding this announcement, Winter?" Jacques Schnee asked, curiosity behind ice-cold eyes.

Winter offered him an answer after a moment's thought. "This move will most likely foster strong loyalty among their employees. With strong loyalty, they will return the favour to the Waylands and will not be favourable in moving to the SDC."

Her answer was concise and to the point, the sort of language that her father spoke the most. Time was currency after all and the time spent talking could be spent in making money. Hell, she figured that talking to her at this moment was reward enough for her as he was taking minutes of his precious time to be with her.

And just as expected, Jacques Schnee nodded. "You are correct. The chaff of the Waylands will stick to them like glue. This sacrifice, this act of compassion..."

The professional and business-like demeanour of Jacques twisted quickly into a sneer. "How frivolous. The Waylands are desperate, reduced to lowering themselves just to avoid going bust." He shook his head, chuckling darkly. "It was infuriating that Gerard refused my offer and his son insulting the Schnee name. This humiliation for the benefit of the chaff is far better than any bankruptcy I have forced onto others. Let them bask in their bread and circuses for the proles. It will only be a matter of time until they cannot sustain themselves anymore and are forced to sell. When that time comes...I shall by them for a pittance."

Jacques Schnee nodded to himself, approving of his own plan. Winter said nothing, not even when her father placed more importance on the SDC than the fact that someone had insulted her. She stood still and waited to be spoken to, just as true Heiress should act.

Or so her father thought.

"The boy is interesting though," Jacques voice continued. He leaned back on his chair, looking up at Winter. "He might be Gerard's spawn but he at least knows filial piety. Ironic that a company going bust has a good heir while the SDC rises to the top but my own refuses to come take her place at my side."

It took all of Winter's willpower not to frown then and there.

Taking a breath, she looked at her father straight. "Father, surely you know that I cannot leave the Academy? Us Schnees must maintain a level of decorum that the Wayland's have forgotten. To return to his father's side is surely admirable but at the expense of Atlas? Our Kingdom?" WInter shook her head, smiling at Jacques. "Us Schnee's, we would never leave Atlas."

Jacques listened and hummed. "That is something I could use, yes. Even in here, you have proven your worth. Well, as long as you return to my side to continue your training under me then I can afford to wait."

Then, there was a ringing sound. Father and daughter glanced at it with Jacques speaking first. "Looks like time has run out. Out of my office now, Winter. I have spent enough time with you."

"Of course. Thank you for spending time with me, Father," Winter said with a bow. Jacques replied with a non-committal grunt as he returned to looking at the files on his desk. Winter turned on her heels and left his cold office. Out into the equally cold hallways of the Schnee Manor.

Once, it was filled with warmth and laughter. Now, just a quiet expanse.

She glanced outside the windows, towards the gardens where a lone woman say on a stone chair, a glass of red liquid in her hand.

Winter sighed. There was no use in complaining what cannot be changed. Instead, her mind went astray to thoughts that wasn't her family.

Her mind went adrift to someone else.

So, he was going to make a decision for himself, defying the world.

Despite her harsh words towards the Wayland heir, Winter did not actually hold hostile feelings towards him. It was the opposite in fact. Unlike the other pretentious hacks she had the displeasure of calling classmates, Alexander wasn't a stuck-up charlatan who fancied themselves leaders but were worth less than dirt. Unlike them, Alexander could actually back up his nobility, what with the tight belt sacrifice he and his father pulled.

How could her father not recognize the nobility, the noblesse oblige in that?

Could she make a decision like that too when the time came?

With admiration in her heart, Winter walked off into the hallways of the Schnee manor. As she walked, her mind would drift into ideas of chivalry, true nobility.

And the Waylands that seemed to embody those ideals.

"...Then let's get to it pell-mell. If not together to heaven, then hand in hand to hell!" Alexander roared with the passion that would light up the sun.

Winter smiled at that image.

A/N: Taken from QQ and SB.

If ya likey and for faster updates, please consider supporting me on : pastah_farian