Jaune stepped into General Ironwood's office, his boots echoing off the polished floor. The room was grand but minimalist—gray steel walls and blue-hued lights, the coldness of Atlas reflected in the very architecture. General Ironwood stood by his desk, his back turned to Jaune as he gazed out the large window overlooking the military city below. Airships glided through the sky, a testament to Atlas' military might, while the distant mountain peaks loomed like silent sentinels.

"Sir," Jaune said, his voice steady but respectful as he snapped to attention. "I apologize for interrupting your time."

Ironwood turned slowly, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp as ever. He nodded, a silent acknowledgment that Jaune had his attention.

"I've come to report on my mission, General," Jaune began, his gaze forward, speaking as if reciting a well-practiced brief. "Nikos and her team… they ditched me during the first day. I tried tracking them, but it took hours to find them near an SDC mine. While we were there, we encountered an unusually high number of Grimm. More than I've ever seen in a location like that."

Ironwood folded his arms, his brow furrowing slightly. He gestured for Jaune to continue.

"After dealing with the Grimm, we regrouped. I wanted to make sure they were safe," Jaune said, his voice lowering. "But honestly, General… they're far more powerful than I anticipated."

Ironwood nodded, his expression still unreadable. He walked around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've seen it now, haven't you? How powerful Nikos and her team are. Her friends, too. They're exceptional."

Jaune thought about it, his mind racing through the battles he'd witnessed. Nikos and her team weren't just powerful — they were almost untouchable. The way they fought, the coordination, the sheer strength… it made him wonder why he, of all people, had been assigned to guard them.

"Yes, sir. I've seen it," Jaune replied, his voice measured. "But… I admit I don't understand why I'm needed there. They don't need a bodyguard. Not in the traditional sense. They can take of themselves."

Ironwood's eyes narrowed slightly, watching Jaune closely. "You're confused, aren't you, Arc? Why someone with their capabilities would need protection, especially from someone like you. You think it's because of your skill — or lack of it compared to theirs."

Jaune hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

The General's eyes softened, just a little. "You're a soldier, Arc. A good one. But no… it's not for your skills in combat. Not entirely, anyway."

Jaune's mind raced again, trying to piece together the reason. It wasn't for his combat skills. Then why? It wasn't until a flicker of his Aura passed through him — subtle, but a reminder of his unique gift that the answer clicked into place.

"My Semblance," Jaune said, the realization dawning on him. "It's because of my Semblance, isn't it?"

Ironwood nodded, his face hardening once again. "Yes. Aura Amplification. It allows you to amplify your own Aura and that of others. You can strengthen Aura shields, increase healing, and even amplify the effects of another person's Semblance. You have a power, Arc, that most can only dream of. And in the battles to come, that power may be the difference between life and death."

Jaune processed this, letting the weight of Ironwood's words sink in. His Semblance was the key to why he was here. It wasn't just about fighting alongside them. It was about giving them an edge when they needed it most.

Ironwood continued, his voice low and serious. "They're powerful, yes. But they're also reckless. And young. You've seen it. The way they fight — bold, daring, sometimes without thinking of the consequences. They're strong, but they're still human. They make mistakes. And your ability may be what saves their lives when they need it most."

Jaune thought back to the way Nikos and the others had fought — reckless but unstoppable. He had been in awe of them, but now he saw the truth behind their strength. They were fearless, but that fearlessness was also a double-edged sword.

"Sir, I…" Jaune hesitated, but then found his voice. "I understand now. It makes sense."

Ironwood stepped forward, his towering presence filling the room. "Arc, there are many ways to protect those around you. Sometimes it's not just about standing in front of them to take a hit. Sometimes, it's about giving them the strength to endure a hit. They wouldn't survive otherwise."

Jaune's gaze hardened with resolve, but a lingering question still tugged at him. He had to know. "General… what's really going on? Why is there such an increase in Grimm activity? Why am I guarding Pyrrha Nikos?"

Ironwood's expression darkened, his eyes cold as steel. "There's a darkness coming, Arc. A great one. It's already here, spreading across the Kingdoms. Grimm are just the beginning. Atlas will be surrounded, and if we are not prepared, we will fall. I don't have the luxury of pretending it isn't coming."

Jaune felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He had seen the devastation Grimm could cause, but this sounded like something far worse. "What kind of darkness?"

Ironwood looked at him, his face grim. "A war, Jaune. A war that will decide the fate of Remnant. And Nikos, her team… friends… they are at the heart of it. If she falls, if Atlas falls, then Remnant falls."

Jaune's heart skipped a beat. His mission wasn't just to guard Nikos — he was guarding the future of the entire world.

"Your duty is to keep her alive, Arc," Ironwood said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "No matter the cost."

Jaune straightened, saluting sharply. "Yes, sir. I understand."

But even as he said the words, Jaune couldn't help but feel the weight of the responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders. The entire fate of Remnant, tied to one person. And it was his job to protect her.

Ironwood gave him a nod, acknowledging his resolve. "Good. But remember, Arc… this is not just about brute strength or fighting skill. You've seen hell. Watched people you trusted die, and you've killed in return. You've lived through Vacuo. You understand that a soldier's life isn't all glory. People will spit in your face. They'll blame you for things you had no part in. They'll tell you, you're no better than the Grimm you fight to protect them from. It comes with the territory."

Jaune nodded, though the sting of those words hit closer to home than he wanted to admit.

Ironwood's voice softened slightly, but it still carried the weight of authority. "I know what you've gone through, Jaune. And I've learned something from you. You taught me that we can't afford to be machines. We can't afford to lose our humanity in this war."

Jaune blinked, caught off guard. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

Ironwood sighed, turning to the window again. "We can't win this war alone, Arc. Not without allies. Not without people we trust by our side. Atlas might be strong, but even we can't hold back the darkness on our own. We need people like Nikos, like her team… like you."

Jaune's breath caught in his throat. "Like me?"

Ironwood turned back to him, his gaze steady and resolute. "Yes, Arc. You. You've been through hell, and you came out the other side for better and worse. You've learned what it means to be more than just a weapon. Learned that people matter, that those connections are what make us strong. That's why you're here."

Jaune stood in stunned silence, the weight of Ironwood's words settling over him.

"You're not just here to guard Nikos, Arc," Ironwood continued. "You're here because you've proven that you're more than a soldier. You've shown me that we need to be more than just soldiers in this fight. We need to be people."

Jaune swallowed hard, confusing riddling his face. Still, he sharpened as discipline took hold. "I won't let you down, General."

Ironwood nodded, a rare, fleeting smile crossing his stern features. "I know you won't."

As Arc left, the quiet tapping of a cane echoed as a figure stepped from the shadows. General James Ironwood stood by the window, gazing out over the sprawling city of Atlas, its towering structures piercing the sky, framed by the distant snow-covered mountains. Despite the sight, his thoughts were far from the tranquility outside.

"Seems you've come to trust that soldier," came the familiar voice from the figure that now stood behind him. "A shame I did not saw his potential."

"And thanks to that you gave me a good soldiers," Ironwood didn't turn, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His voice was low, weighed down by the burdens of his station. "Perhaps... I've seen a path in him… one I recognize." He paused, his brow furrowing. "So lost in wrath and anger, cornered by fear. I was no different."

The figure — Ozpin, or rather, the spirit of him that had taken up residence in the boy before him smiled softly, the kind of smile that spoke of long experience with human nature. "As much as you hate to admit it, James, your words reflect what you've always known. Is that why you want Arc to be with the others?"

"They have a way of rallying people around them. Their light… it can pierce the darkness, even if their methods differ from our own." Ironwood's lips tightened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he considered the thought. "I won't deny that."

He turned away from the window and faced Ozpin's vessel, his hands clasped behind his back. "And Jaune Arc… he is no different. The boy has suffered, lost everything… and yet, he rises. There is something about him — something I can't ignore."

Ozpin tilted his head slightly, his cane tapping once more than he leaned on it. "Do you wish him to be part of the hearth, then? To stand at the center of this fight?"

Ironwood let out a slow breath, his eyes shadowed with concern. "That's correct. He's being swallowed by something dark, something that isn't a good place for him to be in. But if men without Aura — soldiers can stand up against the darkness without fear, then it would be shameful for me not to rise from the pit I've been in. I saw Arc heading toward a similar place… and I refuse to let him fall deeper. How can I allow my soldier die without meaning?"

Ozpin's smile widened, this time warmer, more genuine. "I'm glad you found your way, James. It seems there's hope yet."

Ironwood gave a curt nod, though his expression remained grim. "I didn't find my way alone. I simply saw someone heading down the same path I was on… and knowing where that path leads, I had no choice but to pull him out with me. It was my duty. I lead, not cower. I understand that now."

Ozpin took a moment to reflect on Ironwood's words. "Salem's influence grows stronger by the day. We need every ally we can get in the fight to come."

Ironwood's face hardened at the mention of her name. Salem. The ancient being of darkness whose machinations threatened to consume everything they held dear. She had already set her plans into motion, and the world was teetering on the brink of disaster.

"Salem is coming," Ironwood stated, his voice filled with certainty. "And if what Lieutenant Arc observed is true, then the Grimm from Sanus and Anima are headed our way. The remnants of Vale may have bought us time, but it's only a matter of time before they sweep over us. If we don't prepare thoroughly…"

Ironwood let the sentence hang in the air, but the implications were clear. They would be overwhelmed.

"We must fortify Atlas now," Ironwood continued, his mind moving rapidly now. "Grimm, when coordinated and directed by Salem, is no longer mindless beasts. They'll attack like an organized army, and no conventional force will be able to stop them without the right style of counterattack. Air superiority will be critical, but I need more than that. I need innovation. Strategy. Something that can hold the line when the Grimm come from all sides."

Ozpin gave a slight nod, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "The bullheads you sent to the other kingdoms… have they passed the message?"

Ironwood frowned. "That remains to be seen. Vale is still in ruins, Mistral is in the midst of restructuring, and Vacuo… I doubt they'll listen at all. Their people value their freedom too much to respond to what they might see as fear mongering. For now, my focus is on Mantle and Atlas. If I can secure the heart of this kingdom, it will give us a fighting chance."

"Do you believe they will come in full force?" Ozpin asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

"I do," Ironwood replied firmly. "Salem will pour a tidal wave of Grimm from land, air, and sea if she can. And if Atlas falls, it's over for the rest of Remnant."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he processed the general's words. "Then why turn Amity Arena into a fortress? Surely the resources would be better spent fortifying Atlas directly."

Ironwood's gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a tight line. "Amity Arena is more than just a stronghold. It's a symbol. A place where the world once gathered in unity. If the fortress stands, it sends a message — that we are not divided, that we still stand as one. And we will need that message when Salem unleashes her forces. Besides, Amity Arena's strategic position gives us a vantage point over the southern approach. Its guns will help maintain air superiority, but more than that, it will rally the people."

"Hope," Ozpin said softly, understanding now. "You believe it will inspire hope."

Ironwood gave a short nod. "Exactly. It's not just about surviving, Oz. It's about reminding people what they're fighting for. If Amity Arena's guns never go silent, if it remains a beacon in the sky, and as long as our Guns don't go silent, then we might stand a chance."

For a moment, the room was silent, both men lost in their thoughts. The weight of what was coming pressed down on them like a storm cloud, dark and foreboding. Salem was a threat unlike any other, and the forces she commanded were unlike anything the kingdoms had ever faced.

But there was a glimmer of hope, however small, in the alliances they had built. In people like Arc, who had faced unspeakable loss and still stood ready to fight.

Ozpin finally broke the silence, his voice quiet but resolute. "Salem's forces will be relentless. They will not stop until Remnant is consumed. But you're right, James. We need to stand together now more than ever. Unity is our greatest weapon."

"And some big guns too would help," Ironwood smiled lightly, his resolve as unyielding as the steel of his mechanical arm. "We prepare for war, Ozpin. Because whether we like it or not, it's already begun. If they expect me to wait… to let me be checkmated, then they are wrong. I refuse to be passive. To cower and let their fears consume me. It's time to tell everyone what we are facing, let the Kingdom know what we are up against rather than let them be caught off-guard. This is not negotiable."

"I understand," Ozpin said, understanding the newfound resolve in Ironwood.

With that, General James Ironwood returned to his desk, his fingers brushing over the communications console. It was time to marshal his forces, to rally the people of Atlas, and to ensure that when the time came, they would be ready. Not just for a battle, but for the war that would decide the fate of Remnant.

"Then I wish you luck, General. If you've need of me, then please, rely on me."

"I will," Ironwood said.

As Ozpin faded back into the shadows, a sense of urgency settled in the air.

There was no more room for hesitation, no time for second-guessing.

Every decision they made from this point forward would determine the course of the future.

General James Ironwood found his answer to his fear.

General James Ironwood stood at the heart of Atlas Academy, his figure framed by the gleaming towers of the city behind him. His military uniform was impeccable, reflecting the crisp authority of a man who had spent his life preparing for this very moment. He no longer wore his beard, instead showing a spotless appearance full of confidence. All around him, soldiers, huntsmen, and civilians alike gathered, their eyes trained on the podium where he was about to speak. The air was charged with anticipation, tension radiating from every corner of the courtyard. The people of Atlas needed hope, strength, and leadership, and Ironwood was determined to provide that.

The screens surrounding the city flickered to life, broadcasting the speech across Atlas and Mantle. This was a moment that would define the course of the kingdom — and perhaps the entire world.

Ironwood gripped the edges of the podium, his steely eyes scanning the crowd. He could see the fear etched in their faces, the uncertainty in their stances. They had seen the warnings, heard the rumors. They knew something was coming, bringing with her an army of Grimm that would stop at nothing until everything they knew and loved was consumed.

But Ironwood wasn't here to speak about despair.

He was here to give them something else.

Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Citizens of Atlas, soldiers of Mantle, and to those watching in the shadows. Today, I stand before you not as your General, but as a man who has seen a darkness that threatens our world."

His voice was strong, clear, and unwavering. It carried across the courtyard, resonating through the cold, crisp air of Atlas.

"For too long, we've faced fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the Grimm. Fear that one day, everything we've built, everything we've sacrificed, would fall to ruin. That fear has gnawed at us, weakening our resolve, dividing us. It has shaken the very foundation of our kingdom. I… myself was cornered by this fear. You've seen it. The Dust Embargo… the military presence and movements all over our Kingdom. You may have been asking what I was so afraid about? Whose enemy is coming to Atlas that would make a General of our Kingdom cower?"

He paused, letting his words sink in, allowing the weight of what he was saying to settle on the crowd.

"I was cornered by fear. Maybe if I had continued this way… then perhaps I may have lifted Atlas up in the sky and fly too close to the sun. But then I came to realize as of late that fear does not define us. Fear is not the Atlas I know."

Ironwood's voice rose, filled with the fire of conviction.

"Atlas is a beacon. A fortress in the sky. A kingdom built on the values of strength, unity, and courage. When the darkness comes — and make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen, it is coming… but we will not cower. We will not break. Salem and her army of Grimm is coming, my people, and she will bring the darkness with her."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing through the crowd who grew anxious at the thought of a woman who control armies of Grimm, as if daring them to share in his newfound conviction.

"But we will stand together. So when she and her Grimm arrives at our gates, they will find not a kingdom trembling in fear, but a force that cannot be shaken. A force that will fight for every inch of this land, for every life that we are sworn to protect."

Ironwood's fist clenched, his knuckles whitening against the podium.

"I say let the Grimm come! Let whoever is targeting us send her armies. But let our response be clear when they do. Let it be loud. Let the Guns of Atlas be louder than fear!"

The crowd stirred, whispers of hope rippling through them as they listened.

"Our guns, our ships, our soldiers, and our huntsmen — they are more than just weapons. They are symbols. Symbols of our strength. Symbols of our will. They represent everything we stand for. And when the darkness comes, it will be our duty — our honor to fire those guns and let the world know that we do not bow to fear!"

The crowd was growing more animated now, heads held higher, hands clenched in solidarity. He could feel the shift in the atmosphere—fear was being replaced by something stronger. Something deeper.

"Atlas is more than a military. More than a kingdom. Atlas is a promise. A promise that we will fight for our future. For the future of all Remnant."

Ironwood's voice dropped, the weight of his words pulling the crowd closer.

"I know some of you doubt. I know some of you have seen too much loss, too much pain, to believe in me. But I'm not asking you to trust me. But in Atlas. We will fight. And we will not fight alone. We will fight with the strength of those who came before us, with the power of those who stand beside us, and with the hope of those who will come after us."

He allowed a brief pause, letting the full force of his message sink in.

"I've seen soldiers fight without Aura, standing firm against the Grimm with nothing but courage and weapons in their hands. I've seen huntsmen and huntresses rise above the darkness, defying the odds time and time again. And I've seen the spirit of Atlas — our spirit refuses to be broken, even when everything seems lost."

Ironwood's eyes flicked upward toward the looming towers of Atlas, their hard-light rings glowing with defiance against the darkening skies.

"We will make this enemy fear us. Make no mistake, this Salem will come for us, but she will find nothing but steel, dust, fire, and unyielding resolve. We will make her regret the day she ever set her eyes on Atlas."

The crowd erupted into applause, soldiers saluting, civilians raising their fists in solidarity. The words "Let the Guns of Atlas be louder than fear!" echoed through the courtyard, a rallying cry that seemed to reverberate through the very foundation of the city.

Ironwood straightened, his eyes sweeping the crowd one last time. His expression was hard, resolute, but behind the stoic exterior, there was a spark of hope. He had been to the edge of despair, had seen the darkness in both himself and others. But he had risen from it. And now, he would lead Atlas to do the same.

"We now stand at the precipice of darkness. We face an enemy unlike any other — one that thrives on fear, on doubt, and on despair. This evil and her Grimm seek to drown the world in shadow, to plunge us into chaos."

The crowd held its breath, eyes locked on the General, every word he spoke carrying the gravity of their situation.

"But I tell you this: we will not go quietly into that darkness."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but Ironwood's voice grew stronger, more determined.

"We will not bow. We will not break. And we will not be consumed by the fear they wish to sow among us. When the Grimm comes, when this 'Salem' sends her armies to destroy all that we hold dear, we will stand united — not as a kingdom divided by fear, but as one voice, one purpose, one unbreakable will."

Ironwood's eyes scanned the faces before him. Soldiers, huntsmen, students, civilians — all looking to him for strength, for leadership. And he would give them everything he had.

"We have seen what happens when we are divided," Ironwood continued. "We have seen the consequences of doubt and fear — when mistrust festers, when we turn against each other. But this is not who we are."

He slammed a fist down on the podium, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a drumbeat of war.

"Atlas is not a kingdom of fear. We are not a kingdom of defeat. We are a kingdom forged in the crucible of fire, hardened by war, and we will not falter now. Not when the world needs us most. If these evil believe they can continue to leave me cowering… then here I stand to say they're wrong."

The crowd stirred once more, nods of agreement rippling through them. The soldiers stood a little straighter. The huntsmen shifted their grips on their weapons, and the citizens clenched their fists, feeling the weight of Ironwood's words sink deep into their hearts.

"I will not cower in the dark! We will not cower into the dark!" Ironwood's voice boomed, echoing off the cold, steel walls of the academy and reaching up to the sky itself. "We will face the darkness, and we will fight!"

The crowd erupted again, a roaring wave of approval that surged through the courtyard like a tide of unshakable resolve.

"We will fight for Atlas, for Mantle, for Vale, Mistral, and Vacuo. For every soul across Remnant who cannot fight for themselves. We will fight for the future of this world, for the hope of a tomorrow free from fear."

Ironwood's voice grew softer, but more intense, like the calm before a storm.

"And when the darkness comes, when this Queen of Grimm stands before our gates, she will not find a kingdom cowering in terror. She will not find a people lost in despair. She will find a fortress — strong, unyielding, and ready for battle."

The air itself seemed to still as Ironwood's words settled over the crowd like a blanket of steel.

"We will make the Grimm regret the day they ever dared to challenge us! We will make Salem herself fear the name of Atlas! We will let the whole world know that as long as the Guns of Atlas never go silent, then there's hope!"

The darkness was coming.

But they weren't going to face it in fear.

They were going to face it head-on with guns blazing.

And they would let the world hear them.

It was a promise.