Disclaimer: I don't own any of the copyright intellectual properties that is shown in this fic. I'm merely writing this for fun!

For What It's Worth

1.6

Whitley Schnee stood in the grand foyer of the Schnee Manor. Although his heart wasn't racing anymore he was still a bundle of nerves. The elegant marble pillars rose above him, as if to look down on him. The gleaming chandeliers that hung from the ceiling seemed to join in with the pillars just to mock his uncertainty. He had spent too long shadowed by his family's reputation as a cold, ruthless dynasty.

When Whitley was born both his grandparents had already died. Obviously referring to his mother's side, absolutely no one knows Jacques' parental history. Still, every story Whitley heard about his grandparents was always positive.

Stories about how his grandmother, Victoria Schnee, was a sweet woman who always brought out the best in you. How she would encourage those she met to pursue their passions outside of familial obligations while offering support and a realistic framework to start with.

Then there were stories about his grandfather, Nicholas Schnee, who needed no introduction. Any person in Remnant could give a basic summary of the man who created the biggest company the world has ever seen. For anyone, a family member being known across the world should be a moment of pride but for Whitley, it only brought him shame. Because these basic stories anyone could recite were also the same information he knew about his grandfather. Sure one can argue that he had access to his grandfather's anecdotes but the words he'd read from them were just as emotionless as his father.

Nicholas was a gentle giant, from what little he knew from stories, nobody ever heard his grandfather raise his voice, not even in battle. He also heard that his grandfather had a strong sense of duty and responsibility, which extended beyond just running a successful business. The anecdotes told Whitley that Nicholas was aware of the role that Dust played in society and that he strived to ensure that its extraction and distribution were handled safely and responsibly. His grandfather sought to avoid the exploitation of people, especially the Faunus, by employing them in numbers as a way of protection from corporate cruelty that was known across Remnant at that time. Hoping that the SDC would become a safe haven for them.

Ironic.

Now, as he prepared to relocate to Mantle and take on a role of his outside of his family's business, Whitley still felt the weight of his lineage pressing down on him, heavy and suffocating.

His gaze flicked to the entrance, where the captain and overall commanding officer of the Schnee manor security services, stood immovable. Captain Paulus Silverstein was a no-nonsense man, a former officer in the Atlesian military, and a veteran of the Faunus uprisings. The captain's posture was rigid, and his serious brown eyes surveyed the world with an intensity that made Whitley fidget when he looked at him.

Whitley found the man irritating. Well in actuality he didn't, it was just that the captain had been ordered by his father to personally be Whitley's guardian for the entire time he was in Mantle. Jacques had made it final that Klein wouldn't be able to accompany him, but Jacques didn't want his son unsupervised in Mantle so the task fell to Captain Silverstein. And in all honesty, Whitley didn't mind the man, it was just that the captain was a representative of Jacques, and ultimately a constant reminder that he was on borrowed time.

Walking up to the captain, the man addressed Whitley by shifting his body and gazing at the heir, his signature deadpanned gaze.

"Uh, Captain Silverstein?" Whitley called out, his voice far more quivering than he intended. The gaze unnerved him.

The captain turned, his expression inscrutable. Whitley tried reading his body language but got nothing staring at his white full-body armor. "Yes, Sir?" The captain straightened slightly, clearly expecting an instruction from the heir.

Whitley hesitated, mentally gathering himself before speaking. "I'm done with all my preparations, I'm ready to leave."

The captain nodded. "Very well sir, then let us board the bullhead."

The duo walked a fair bit out of the manor before entering the docking bay section. Numerous bullheads were docked with dozens of workers unloading the supplies from within. The duo walked ignored with the workers not giving them so much as a glance. Eventually reaching the private part of the docking bay that held all the private bullheads the different members of the Schnee family rode in, each one adorned with the family emblem. It was easy to spot which one was meant for Whitley seeing how it was the only one that wasn't parked.

Surprisingly for Whitley, it wasn't any of the luxury bullheads waiting for him but the small compact one that was rarely used by the main members of the family. He'd expected the limousine variant was prepared under the logic that Klein had packed a lot of his luggage. It didn't make sense that a month's worth of personal belongings would fit in such a small vehicle.

'Maybe Klein had already gone ahead and prepared the place.' It had been a week since Whitley thought.

The bullhead's pilot greeted the duo and held the door for them. To Whitley's annoyance the captain didn't sit beside the pilot but with him at the back. 'Whatever, let's just get this over with.'

Soon enough, bullhead had departed the docking bay and they were off to Mantle.

For the first half hour Whitley had spent his time reading up on his updated list of things to build on his smartphone. Then he browsed online trying to sate his boredom but found himself unable to focus on anything he interacted with online. So for the most part of the ride Whitley had surrendered himself to just staring out the window of his seat, the unending landscape somewhat easing his mind.

That comfort however didn't last. With nothing to distract himself with his thoughts went all over the place, first with tinker ideas but that quickly devolved to how he was going to incorporate his inventions to his father's will. Whitley was troubled to say the least.

He wondered what exactly he should present to his father that could be mass-produced but was also not weapons in nature. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for new ways for people to creatively cause harm against another with tools he was directly responsible for. Whitley did have the impression that his father wanted something new, because new meant no competition, and no competition meant monopoly.

But that just went back to his first problem. What should he make that wasn't harmful but new enough that could guarantee a monopoly?

Should he make a patent for his power armor once complete?

'Pfft as if, the power armor is mine and mine alone.'

Even if he made a low-grade version and sold it off the market as some kind of worker protection gear or some other reason, he knew the military would immediately jump on that technology wasting no time to fit it for their front-line troops. Sure these theoretical low-grade military power armor might protect the lives of soldiers, but they'd also be protecting those who occasionally harm others. His beam sabers? What could they even be used for? Whitley couldn't think of anything that his beam sabers could be used for civilian work. Again, if he sold them as personal defense against Grimm then the problem with the military would come up again. That's not even including criminal organizations in the equation.

Every invention Whitley argued fell flat and he was increasingly getting anxious as to how the month would end. Jacques already thought little of his tinker abilities, and as much as he wanted to prove his father wrong Whitley was still afraid of disappointing him.

Worst of all, because of the constant back and forth with his own thoughts a small voice had begun to be heard. It was quiet at first, but as his thoughts continued this voice grew louder and louder until Whitley was forced to listen. And what did this voice have to say?

Freedom, it told him. Genuine freedom.

What need did he have from the Schnee family anyway, it told him. You and you alone have the power to change this world and you Whitley Schnee are only being held back by your family. The voice proposed an ultimatum.

Abandon the Schnee name, and disinherit them completely. Unadulterated power comes after.

Whitley had had enough of his thoughts. The final voice had unnerved him too much, so he pulled out his phone to listen to some music so his thoughts couldn't start over again.

"Troubled are we?" A deep voice said.

"Huh?" Whitley answered back. He hadn't expected the captain to converse with him throughout the flight. His reply wasn't even directed at the man, it was merely a startled response.

"Your face, you barely hide your emotions at all." The captain continued. Whitley noted how the captain wasn't even looking at him, even noting the clipped demeanor he had when speaking.

"I suppose you're right. Can't blame me though." He answered back to the captain.

"Well you're certainly right about that, I remember your sisters having the jitters when they were off to do their thing. But it's not as bad as yours." The captain's words caught Whitley off guard.

"My sisters? You mean both right? They've interacted with you before?" Whitley inquired.

"Yes sir, I remember back when I had escorted the eldest at the Atlesian Academy. She was forcing this defiantly brave image on the outside but she was a nervous wreck throughout the entire ride. She kept asking me about my experiences when I was a cadet, skills I think she should focus on and even asking me for my advice."

Whitley stared bewildered at the man talking, clearly not expecting a whole anecdote from a time in Winter's life on the crucial days of her abandonment. Still, the captain continued uninterrupted by the heir.

"The middle child was just as nervous as the eldest. Back when I had escorted her to Beacon a few months ago she also had this defiant act mixed with elegance. The journey to Vale was a tad bit longer so at the start she kept up the image, but halfway through that image cracked. She started nervously talking to herself, even calling out the eldest's name, saying things like 'This was a mistake' or 'Winter I need you'." The captains gave a small chuckle, the sound eerily similar to an engine starting. Coughing up a few times before continuing. "In the end, much like the eldest, she started confiding in me. Asking the same questions but unlike the eldest who clung to my words this one decided to sing."

"Sing? To you?" The heir interrupted, confused.

"Yup, she started singing songs that she said were unreleased. Some even come directly from her diary. In the end, singing was her way of coping and it had worked, I mean she was still nervous when we parted ways at Beacon, but her actions gave her enough determination to push through with whatever it is she got planned."

The captain finished telling his story with a ghost of a smile on his face. Whitley still staring with a look that conveyed an emotion of loss.

"Well, that was…" Whitley started.

"Unexpected?" The captain answered

"Yes, I apologize if this comes out wrong Captain but I wasn't expecting you to be this talkative."

This time the captain barks a loud laughter that Whitley does not interrupt. Whitley couldn't place the feeling but from observing the captain's mannerisms it had looked like there was something that was clearly missing. A longing, Whitley guessed. For what exactly the heir couldn't tell.

After the captain's laughter died down the man didn't continue talking and the silence continued afterward. This time Whitley's thoughts weren't as loud or rebellious from a few minutes ago. The stories he had just heard showed a vulnerable side of his sisters that he never knew existed. Although not on purpose, Whitley hearing a side of his sisters from the captain had resulted in him staring at the man. He had tried to convince himself that he didn't need to engage with the captain, that he would be just fine moving to the Frosty City of Mantle without talk.

But something nagged at him.

"Uh, Captain Silverstein?" Whitley called out, his voice far more confused than he intended.

The captain looked at him, "Yes sir?"

Whitley hesitated, mentally weighing his words. "I wanted to talk about…well, moving to Mantle."

The captain nodded, and Whitley noted the man's clipped demeanor. He almost dismissed him as just another hired muscle, a simpleton whose life revolved around protocols and duty.

"I'm sure you have a hundred thoughts to share with me about overcoming my anxieties, right?" Whitley said, laughing nervously trying to mask his discomfort. "Though honestly, since I'm not applying in a military school or a hunter academy I'm not too interested in hearing about the crime rates and how to duck missiles."

The captain regarded him with a stare that was both patient and slightly amused. "You might be surprised how much you can learn from dire situations, Sir."

Whitley snorted, trying to keep the right ingrained attitude of superiority. "So what? You're saying I should run into danger to grow as a person?"

The captain raised his eyebrows. "No, sir. But moving to Mantle isn't just about your business. It's about new experiences and the people you'll meet. You'll find that some of the most valuable lessons come not when you're shielded by your name or behind walls, but when you're out there, on your own."

The captain's words struck a chord, but Whitley felt the prickly instinct to dismiss them. "Of course, you'd say that. You're a soldier. You thrive on challenges, but what about a builder like me?"

"Exactly," the captain replied, his tone felt like this wasn't the first time the man had had this conversation. "You're learning to be your own man. It's not enough to just be 'Whitley Schnee the businessman' or 'Whitley Schnee the builder'. You need to be Whitley. Your grandfather has a legacy, your father, regardless of how you feel about it, also has his legacy. One day you will have your own. What that is however is ultimately up to you."

Whitley fell silent, the captain's words weren't exactly original but the message was still the same. Now it seemed that his original thought of conversing with the captain to sate his curiosity had backfired. The anxiety from before had returned, and the fear of him failing despite the literal world-changing ability he had was getting worse. It had seemed the conversation with the captain had ended, Whitley not even looking at the captain anymore.

"You can't let the fear of the unknown nor failure paralyze you. You may stumble, but every stumble teaches you something. You'll discover what you want from yourself—who you want to be—not who everyone expects you to be." The captain finished, seemingly also aware that was the end of the conversation.

The rest of the flight came without issue and soon the landscape of nature was replaced with a vast, rusty maze. Skyscrapers stretch upward, their shadows cutting through the dense web of streets below, crammed with tiny, blinking headlights moving in chaotic harmony. The buildings looked like clones of each other showing no sign of identity and all seemed to rise endlessly, packed tight, like jagged concrete teeth. The city felt suffocating with no room to breathe, nothing was untouched by the rusty maze. It was mesmerizing, it was daunting, it was ugly.

And this would be his new home for a month. Whitley Schnee was now in Mantle.

As the bullhead continued to their destination Whitley had begun stopping caring about his surroundings as the monotonous colors of the city failed to differentiate themselves. The further they went into Mantle the more cluttered his view began and he feared if their destination wasn't as private as he believed it to be. Those fears however slowly died down when they entered a section of Mantle that felt abandoned due to the lack of traffic on the streets. Finally, their bullhead had landed on a small field that was wide enough for commercial aircraft to land and was also directly in front of an enormous building.

From the outside, the factory looks like a forgotten relic, its brick walls weathered and crumbling, streaked with patches of rust and peeling paint. The once-bright signs have faded, letters barely legible, hinting at a time when this place was alive with industry. Weeds and vines creep up the walls, twisting around cracked windows, some of them shattered or boarded up. The massive steel doors at the entrance hang slightly ajar as if left that way years ago.

Whitley inwardly retched with how ugly the place looked. Remembering Klein's words that he had promised he found the perfect candidate for his base of operations. The sight in front of Whitley almost made him call the butler a liar, but this was Klein he was thinking and Whitley was willing to see the inside before making any judgment.

"Master Whitley sir," The captain called from behind. "Welcome to Krauswork Industries factory, or at least what's left of it. Now, regarding the instructions sent to me from head overseer Klein, I am to tell you that the basement of the factory has a full stock of its resources and will act as your main workshop. Regarding your dwelling the overseer's office is reserved for you, it has been renovated to accommodate you for the whole month. With that said please feel free to explore the factory ahead of me, I'll be calling the Schnee manor for a report and any other factor that needs finalizing at this point."

Whitley gave the captain a nod then went ahead the place. Rusted metal doors towered over Whitley and after interacting with the electric lock his ears were assaulted with loud screeching as the rusted doors opened. Stepping through the doors Whitley was right to hold judgment as the interior of the factory was a far cry compared to the outside.

Bright, fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating a modern interior. The hum of machinery echoed through the cavernous space, while robotic arms stood erect like soldiers in a parade beside conveyor belts. Rows of workstations line the walls, each one displaying streams of data that they were used to build from previous workers on glowing screens. The air was cool, almost sterile, and a faint scent of metal and oil was present. The faint buzz of electronics filled the silence.

Whitley followed the short directions that led him to an elevator, inside was a simplistic control panel that had six buttons. He was currently at the ground floor and the basement was obviously his workshop, after that was the second, third, and fourth floors, and the last being the rooftop. Each had a short description of what materials were currently stocked at each floor.

'Better send a thank you message to Klein later.'

Wasting no time, Whitley pressed the basement control button and the elevator proceeded downwards at a controlled pace. As the elevator door slid open, revealing the entrance to the underground workshop, Whitley took a step inside, his eyes widening with a mix of awe and excitement. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, letting the moment sink in.

"Whoa… this is awesome." He says in a tone of pure excitement, a rare instance of him acting his age.

Whitley steps forward, his footsteps echoing through the vast, dimly lit space. Massive machinery lines the walls, the hum of engines and the glow of monitors creating a rhythmic atmosphere that he slowly joins. Conveyor belts, robotic arms, and half-built engines glisten under the fluorescent lights, like a treasure trove hidden away from the world that he was now only discovering.

"This... this is where it all begins."

Whitley smirks, spinning around slowly to take it all in, the sheer scale of the place sinking in. It's a place where ideas can be built, where his designs can come to life, and for a moment he had forgotten about the time constraint he was being held at. His anxieties faded away not caring for what was to come at the end of the month, for he was in his own personal playground.

"This is it. This is my home base. And it is time to get to work."

With a quick flick of his wrist, he pulls out his smartphone and begins skimming across the list he had prepared, his mind already buzzing with ideas. All were excellent ideas to begin with but to Whitley, they felt too small. If he wanted to build something small then why did he leave the workshop to begin with?

No, what he needed was something big. If he was to bless the place then he needed to build something big, the biggest he had yet to make. His power armor can wait, he already had a proper blueprint that would hasten the work. After a few seconds of going over his list of things to build when Whitley believed he had finally found the perfect creation to bless the factory.

According to public information, Krauswork Industries was once a company that provided the Atlesian military with bullheads. Even the combat variants that were colloquially known to both the military and the public as 'Warheads'. So Whitley believed that it was only proper to make something similar of the sort in honor of Krauswork.

What he had decided upon was an aircraft that was compact and theoretically capable of both offensive and defensive measures. The jet engines were the most powerful Whitley had ever interacted with. The engines could go over Mach three for crying out loud! His power armor could only go at 200 kilometers per hour. The most notable aspect was this aircraft's wings. Not only were they durable but they were also incredibly flexible that they could rearrange themselves even in midflight. All things considered, this aircraft closely resembled a bird.

"No, not a bird."

Removing his coat, Whitley immediately began preparing the tools he needed to build this aircraft. Grabbing a marker from one of the many tables, he went towards the whiteboard at the wall.

Current Project: The Dragon

AN: Thank you to everyone who have liked, followed, reviewed or even just interacted with this fic. It means A lot to me that you gave me your free time to read this. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Whew this took longer than expected. With Uni ramping up and the weather just going to outright shit my free time for writing this is slowly getting shorter. Expect the 7th update to probably come after next week. With that said let me address 2 things, 1 minor and 1 major.

The first is that some of you have sent PMs regarding the fact that in the previous update Jacques made a comment about Whitley's education being on par with public education. You guys told me it was hard to believe that Jacques would only get Whitley that level of education. And honestly you guys are right! This was an oversight from me, originally the comment was about a private school but i changed it in the end purely for dramatic effect and it clearly didn't make sense story wise. Because of this I want to say thank you to those who said it cuz stuff like this helps me improve my writing in the long run.

Secondly, I was really hoping I'd be able to hold off this topic for as long as I could but this aspect if unfortunately dominant in the RWBY fandom. SHIPS. I do have a ship in mind for our angsty mc but right now that isn't my priority until I get far in this story. To those who badly want to know then the inspiration for this fic should already give you a clue. But please know anything romantic isn't coming anytime soon, yet.

Anyway... I've rambled long enough and thank you again for reading this. Stay safe and I'll see you soon.