Jaune stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his formal uniform for what felt like the hundredth time. The crisp white double-breasted coat hugged his broad frame, the silver buttons catching the dim light in his apartment. His reflection stared back at him, a soldier who had seen more than his fair share of war. Dark blue accents trimmed the edges of his jacket, matching the neatly pressed trousers that disappeared into polished black boots. Around his waist was the deployable power armor belt, a newer addition to his standard kit, courtesy of Dr. Hales. Crocea Mors hung by his side, the familiar weight of his family sword grounding him. A spare pistol rested on his thigh-holster, its presence both reassuring and a reminder of his readiness.

He took a deep breath, staring into his own blue eyes. The man looking back at him wasn't the same dorky boy who had once stumbled his way into Beacon Academy. This man had been forged by war, loss, and survival. His eyes lingered on the red tie, a symbol of the blood spilled by both friends and enemies alike. The uniform, while pristine, couldn't hide the scars beneath.

Jaune tightened his gloves before leaving the apartment. The city of Mantle was as cold and harsh as ever, its streets filled with a constant, biting wind despite the city's heater. He boarded a bullhead that took him to Atlas Academy, the towering fortress of power and military discipline that loomed over the floating city of Atlas.

As the bullhead ascended, Jaune gazed at the massive structure that was Atlas Academy. It sat on the highest peak of the city, a symbol of military might and intellectual excellence. The five enormous towers, with the largest at the center, gave the impression of an impregnable fortress. Hard-Light Dust rings surrounded the side towers, giving them an ethereal blue glow that contrasted with the stark, silver architecture.

The central tower, which housed the original CCTS tower, rose high into the sky, its top barely visible through the thick clouds that shrouded the upper levels of Atlas. The Academy was a fortress in every sense of the word — both a symbol of strength and a reminder of the price of security.

The bullhead landed smoothly at the Academy's pad, and Jaune disembarked, making his way through the long, sterile hallways that lined the interior. The cold white and gray walls stretched endlessly, broken only by the occasional dark gray pillar. Blue lights, resembling ancient torches, lined the walls, casting a cold, almost eerie glow across the floor.

Jaune moved with purpose, but there was a heaviness in his step. As he reached the elevator, Jaune took a deep breath and pressed the button, watching as the metallic doors slid open silently. The ride up felt longer than it should have, and Jaune's mind wandered back to the events that had led him here. The slaughter at Fort Arrowfell, Thornmane's broken body at his feet, the rage that had fueled him in that moment.

When the doors opened, he was greeted by the sight of a well-dressed woman sitting at a desk. She glanced up at him, her brown eyes scrutinizing him for a brief moment before she spoke.

"Name?" she asked, her tone professional but not unkind.

"Lieutenant Jaune Arc," he replied, standing at attention.

The woman, Stephanie Santiago, the General's secretary, nodded and tapped a few keys on her terminal. "The General will see you shortly. Please wait here."

Jaune gave her a quick nod and moved to the side, standing at ease as he waited. His mind raced with thoughts of the impending meeting. He had faced down Grimm, fought Huntsmen, and survived battles that had claimed the lives of his comrades, but this… this felt different. Ironwood wasn't just a general — he was a symbol of Atlas.

After a few minutes, Santiago looked up and motioned for Jaune to step forward. "You can go in now."

Jaune nodded again, his mouth dry as he made his way to the General's office. The door slid open, revealing the massive room that overlooked the city of Atlas. General Ironwood stood at the far end, his back turned to the door, staring out the massive window that stretched from floor to ceiling.

"Lieutenant Arc," Ironwood's voice rumbled through the room without him even turning around.

Jaune snapped to attention, his hand raised in a crisp salute. "General."

"It's been a while," General Ironwood began, his deep voice carrying a weight of authority but also something more—familiarity. "How has your rest been?"

Jaune stood a little straighter and nodded respectfully. "Restful, sir."

Ironwood chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Restful, huh? I suppose after all the paperwork we put you through, you're lucky to have gotten any rest at all." He raised a brow, clearly amused. "How's the outfitting been treating you? That new armor suits you well?"

Jaune glanced down at the Atlesian power armor that adorned his waist. It had taken some getting used to, but it felt like a second skin now when it wrapped him. Dr. Hales had really outdone himself with the upgrades to his Crocea Mors and the integration of the power armor. The technology was cutting-edge, far more than he felt deserving of.

"It's an honor I don't deserve, sir," Jaune replied humbly, his voice steady but tinged with honesty.

Ironwood's expression softened for a moment, but his tone remained firm. "I disagree, Lieutenant. You've more than earned this. In fact, the reason you're here today is because I have a new assignment for you. And it's not just any assignment."

Jaune blinked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "A new assignment, sir?"

Ironwood nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes. You'll be reporting directly to me, and your new job is... well, it's a bit different from what you're used to." He paused, watching Jaune's reaction carefully. "You're going to be a bodyguard for a huntress."

Jaune's confusion deepened. "A bodyguard for a huntress, sir? But… with all due respect, if this person is a Huntress, wouldn't she be more than capable of protecting herself?"

Ironwood's smile grew into a small chuckle, and he leaned back slightly. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? She's one of the best, most powerful Huntresses I've ever seen, in fact. But... we can't be too careful. Not with what's at stake."

"To the point that you'd allowed me to keep the Paladin for the assigment, Sir?"

"Yes."

There was a hint of something darker in Ironwood's voice now, something that caught Jaune's attention. His military training kicked in, his instincts telling him that whatever this was, it wasn't a simple bodyguard mission. The kind of the mission that allowed him to keep the Paladin for use if he needs to. He straightened his posture even more, focusing intently on the General's words.

Ironwood continued, his voice growing more serious. "This is a 'need-to-know' kind of job, Arc. You won't understand the full stakes right away, but trust me, once you spend enough time with her, you'll begin to understand. What you need to know now is that her power — what she carries cannot fall into the wrong hands of those trying to steal it from her. Understood?"

Jaune's mind raced as he processed the General's words. The stakes were high, that much was clear. But there was something deeper at play here, something Ironwood wasn't saying. He nodded firmly, his blue eyes locking with Ironwood's. "Understood, sir."

There was a pause, and then Jaune asked the question that had been building in his mind. "Who is she?"

Ironwood's gaze shifted towards the door, and before Jaune could follow his line of sight, the door to the office opened.

A young woman entered, and Jaune's breath caught in his throat. His first thought was — pretty.

Her red hair was unmistakable, flowing in a waist-length ponytail behind her, and her green eyes that were sharp and determined swept across the room with the confidence of someone who knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of. She wore armor over her coat, elegant and functional, with bronze greaves and cuisses that adorned her muscular frame. Her high-heeled boots were polished, matching the bronze trim of her armor, and her posture was that of a warrior.

Jaune's throat went dry as he recognized her immediately.

"Ma'am," he said formally, his voice steady but his mind racing.

"Lieutenant Arc," General Ironwood said, his tone suddenly lighter, as if introducing old friends. "Allow me to introduce Pyrrha Nikos. But I'm sure you recognize her."

Pyrrha nodded to Jaune, her expression professional but friendly. There was a sense of calm strength about her, an aura that was undeniable. Jaune was momentarily stunned. He had seen her fight in the Vytal Festival years ago, seen her grace and power in the arena during the time Mint let him watch her previous matches. But now, standing here in front of him, there was something even more commanding about her presence. She was soothing like the Season of Fall...

"Ms. Nikos, this Lieutenant Jaune Arc," Ironwood continued, turning back to Pyrrha, "from now on, he will be your personal escort."

Jaune's mind reeled for a moment. Him? Escorting her?

Pyrrha Nikos, a skilled champion, didn't need a bodyguard. She was a force of nature in her own right… and yet they still want more protection for her? The kind that needed a Paladin?

"Is it really necessary, sir?" Jaune asked, still struggling to piece together the reasoning behind the assignment.

Ironwood's expression grew serious again. "As I said, Lieutenant, there are forces at play here that you don't yet understand. Ms. Pyrrha Nikos is incredibly powerful, but her strength is also her burden. Your job is to ensure that no one steals that power or uses it for their own ends."

Pyrrha's green eyes met Jaune's, and she gave him a nod of acknowledgment. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Lieutenant Arc."

Jaune swallowed hard and saluted, feeling the weight of the assignment settling on his shoulders. "No, it's an honor, ma'am."

Ironwood stepped forward, placing a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "This is a critical mission, Arc. You've already proven yourself time and again. I trust you to handle this with the care and discipline it requires. We can't afford to fail."

Jaune nodded, his expression resolute. "Then I won't let you down, sir."

Ironwood stepped back, glancing between Jaune and Pyrrha. "Good. Then you're both dismissed. Report back to me as soon as you're settled."

With that, Ironwood gave them both a nod, signaling the end of the meeting.

As they left Ironwood's office and stepped into the hall, Jaune felt the weight of Pyrrha's gaze on him. He glanced over, meeting her eyes again, this time with more confidence now that the General wasn't looking at him.

"You seem surprised," Pyrrha said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Jaune gave her a sheepish smile. "I guess I didn't expect to be escorting someone like you. No offense, Ma'am. But you don't exactly need protection."

Pyrrha's smile was faint but genuine. "True, but I've learned that power alone isn't always enough to protect oneself from everything. There are other dangers out there — dangers I'll need help with… apparently."

Jaune nodded, understanding the unspoken truth in her words. Whatever power she had, whatever burden she carried, it was something that went beyond the battlefield. And now, he was part of ensuring that power remained safe.

"Well," Jaune said, his voice steady, "I'll do my best to keep up."

Pyrrha chuckled softly, the sound light but comforting. "I have no doubt, Lieutenant."

As they walked side by side down the long, cold hallways of Atlas Academy, Jaune couldn't help but feel her eyes drilling on his back. Whatever opinion she had of guarding her, all Jaune knew was that it was his mission now to keep her safe.