The air is crisp and biting today.
It was the start of the arrival of a cold season.
The winds howled as they swirled around the topmost tower of Beacon Academy. The sun was low and the distant sounds of students winding down their day barely reached the height of the Headmaster's office.
The clink of a cane echoed off the polished floors, and with a man of high authority, the appearance of Headmaster Ozpin. The man stood near the large window that overlooked Vale. His usual calm demeanor betrayed little of the thoughts swirling beneath the surface. Rather, he was waiting.
The soft hum of a hologram projector filled the room as a faint shimmer appeared across his desk, forming into the figure of his long-time friend.
General James Ironwood.
The image sharpened into the likeness of the Atlas Headmaster, his arms folded behind his back, clad in the crisp white uniform of the Atlas military, with the emblem of his new rank prominently displayed.
It had only been a few months since his promotion to General, a significant leap from the rank of Lieutenant he'd held not long ago. Being both the Headmaster of Atlas Academy and the General of the Atlas military was no small feat.
"Good evening, Ozpin," Ironwood greeted, his voice steady and controlled.
"Good evening, General." Ozpin returned his friend's greeting. "I trust you are well?"
"Very much so, thank you for asking." A smile crossed the general's face, which quickly faded. He seemed to be thinking before speaking again.
"Well," Ironwood began, his smile faltering just slightly, "as well as one can be with the responsibilities we've chosen. Sometimes, it is a bit of a juggling act. You know that better than anyone."
Ozpin nodded with a knowing smile, still looking at the twinkling lights of Vale in the distance. "The weight of two worlds, James. I can only imagine."
Ironwood chuckled. "You can presume it, I'm sure—probably better than I'd like. But yes, the mantle of General has proven heavier than I expected." He shifted slightly, the hologram flickering for a second. "Balancing the Academy and the military has its fair share of conflicts. There are those who still aren't fond of a Headmaster in uniform."
Ozpin turned, offering him a gentle look. "Perhaps not, but you're exactly the leader Atlas needs, James. They'll see that, in time."
The General let out a quiet sigh like he was in the process of shedding a layer of armor. "It's peculiar. When I accepted the promotion, I believed it would get easier. That I'd have more authority, more control. But the higher up you go, the less people tell you what you're doing wrong—and the more they expect you to have all the answers."
Ozpin gave him a sympathetic nod, raising his mug. "I imagine the long nights and empty mugs don't help."
Ironwood chuckled. He let out a genuine laugh breaking through. "Ah, yes. I'm sure I've lost count of how many cups of coffee I've downed this month alone. But you're one to talk, Ozpin. That mug of yours has probably seen more refills than any other in Vale."
There was a rich scent of cocoa rising from the steam that was too pleasant to not taste.
Ozpin took a quiet sip with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. "A seasoned tool of the trade. I'm sure coffee's the only thing keeping me upright some days." He paused, his expression growing more thoughtful. "Though, I wonder if Atlas coffee is up to the same standards as ours here in Vale."
Ironwood gave a mock-offended look, crossing his arms. "We may be known for our technology and military strength, but we certainly know how to brew a good cup. I'll bring some next time to convince you. Better yet, perhaps you could visit Atlas sometime. See it yourself."
"I'll take up you on it." Ozpin's eyes eased. "Though I've always thought of you as something of an ambassador of Atlas here. You certainly bring a touch of it with you wherever you go, James."
"Maybe so. But I find that being here...it has a way of grounding me. Reminds me of why we're doing this." His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked more like the young lieutenant Ozpin had known months prior.
"It's easy to get lost in numbers and orders back in Atlas, to forget what we're really trying to protect." Ironwood tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful smile crossing his face.
"People are what we're here for," Ozpin agreed quietly. "And sometimes, James, it's easier to protect that idea from a distance, rather than up close." There was a slight pause before he quickly added, "But that's why it's so important that you're here."
Ironwood nodded, the gratitude visible in his expression, if only for a moment. "I appreciate that, Ozpin. Truly."
A quiet silence fell between them, both men momentarily lost in memories and reflections on old times.
After a moment, Ironwood cleared his throat, the lightness fading as his expression turned thoughtful again. "So, you said you wanted to talk. I'm assuming it isn't just to reminisce."
Now on the topic of hand, Ozpin set his mug down, his expression turning serious. "No, you're right. As much as I enjoy catching up, we have matters of grave importance to discuss."
The cold season had barely begun. It's cold again. Both men were used to the unknown, to threats lurking in the shadows, threats that were hidden from the world to protect them, and secrets that were not made public for a reason. A very good reason, in fact.
Ironwood adjusted his stance, he looked almost hesitant. And it was a rare moment of pause for the stoic general to Ozpin's eyes.
"Before we get into specifics, Ozpin, I want to show you the initial reports from Vacuo," Ironwood said, his tone clipped. "I can describe it as… unconventional."
Ozpin inclined his head slightly in encouragement. "Unconventional situations tend to fall within our expertise, James. Go on."
Ironwood tapped a control panel, and a report hovered into view between them, filled with field notes and preliminary analysis from scouts. "These are direct observations from a Vacuan scout team. They reached out after coming across an unusual scene on the outskirts of an abandoned outpost. Grimm activity in the area had been high, but the numbers had been thinned decisively."
Ozpin read through the words, noting the scout's descriptions: 'Severe destruction,' 'Craters of unknown origin,' 'Grimm bodies shredded as if by heavy artillery.'
He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Ironwood. "Heavy artillery? They didn't detect any advanced military presence in the area?"
"No, that's part of the mystery," Ironwood replied, his voice lowered. "The outpost had been abandoned for years; there were no traces of human life and no signs that anyone had moved through the area recently, at least not with our kind of equipment."
There was a pause. Ozpin took in the implications. Remnant, while aware of Atlas' heavy war machinery and even heard of the developing Paladin prototype, had few means of causing such concentrated destruction.
"You're saying these reports imply a mechanized force?"
Ironwood nodded slowly, bringing up the images to back up the reports. The battlefield came to life in vivid detail. Smoldering fields. Large chunks of earth were blown apart and torn up, and shell craters dotted the area, surrounded by shattered boulders.
Heavy tread marks were embedded in the muddy ground, and the charred remains of Grimm carcasses scattered like debris, already dissipating. The Grimm had clearly been annihilated, the scale of destruction brutal and efficient.
Though no human bodies were visible, the extensive damage hinted at something with firepower far beyond what most huntsmen or machines would wield alone.
It was a result of something more than a military-grade attack.
Ozpin's eyes tightened at those tracks. "Those tracks…"
"If I didn't know better, I'd say they resemble the movements of a machine, an engine I believe. And it's one I've never seen."
"Nor I," Ironwood agreed, zooming in on a particularly large crater with a distinct circular pattern. "These tracks and craters don't match anything in our inventory. In fact, they don't align with any modern technology in Remnant. Based on the blast patterns and the depth of impact, whatever created them had the firepower of a serious battle tank."
He switched to another image that showed a close-up of the gouges in the earth, sections where deep treads had pressed into the mud, almost as if some heavy vehicle had rolled through. "Whatever was here left quite an impression."
"A tank?" Ozpin mused. "Those trails don't fit with anything I'd know of. Is it alright to assume your agents at the site recovered no usable parts?"
"Nothing." Ironwood's expression constricted. "The only thing we did recover were just shell fragments. We analyzed the composition of the metal, and even that's foreign. It's not something mined or forged in Atlas, Vale, or anywhere else."
Ozpin studied the holographic images again. "A weapon like this, able to operate without a human crew, and moving independently. You believe it's a rogue machine, then? An oddity created by chance?"
Ironwood gave a slight nod. "That's the leading theory. It has all the signs of military-grade power. It shredded Grimm with armor-piercing rounds, the likes of which would require a vehicle of serious firepower to deliver. Whoever, whatever, used it was precise and methodical. The Grimm were hunted down, it took them out with complete efficiency, and then simply moved on."
It tore through them. As if the Grimm were little more than obstacles.
"And there were no witnesses. None of the scouts encountered this machine directly?"
"Only its aftermath. The tracks led them west, but it disappeared into a rocky canyon. They lost all traces of it there," Ironwood replied but was visibly displeased by the dead end. "If it truly operates without a pilot, it's possible it could appear anywhere, without warning."
A weapon like that, capable of extreme power that even Atlas could not imitate. Ozpin could only think one thing.
If such a thing poses as much of a threat,
It can pose as a potential asset as well.
Ozpin met Ironwood's gaze, his expression was carefully neutral. "If this machine operates without loyalty, then it will be easy for anyone could influence its objectives."
"Which is why I'm keeping this between us for now," Ironwood said. "If something like this is roaming the wilds of Vacuo, it could draw unwanted attention. If word spreads, if others find out about it, especially if they think they can control it, we could be looking more than Grimm casualties."
"Yes, the last thing we need is someone trying to weaponize it for their own purposes," Ozpin murmured, his fingers tapping on the desk.
"Until we know more, secrecy is our best ally. But be cautious. Machines are bound by purpose, even if we can't see it."
Ironwood's hologram flickered slightly. "I've already sent a scout team to try and track it again. If we can, I'd like to study it and see if it could be… persuaded to help. But we can't risk anyone knowing what it is, especially not Her forces."
Ozpin nodded. "A wise move, James. If we're to keep this under control, and if this machine shows any hostility beyond the Grimm, we may need to intervene."
Ironwood's expression hardened. "Agreed. I'll keep you updated with any new findings. And, Ozpin, keep this between us for now. If word gets out… well, we both know how quickly things can spiral out of control."
His lips tightened in a line. "Understood, James. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"Do you ever miss, well, wherever you came from? I mean, space and the stars and all that."
The sounds of leaves crunching underfoot Jaune as they trekked their journey. It had been weeks since they set this training of theirs, and the days spent under Suesor's guidance had changed him, though, in many ways, he still felt like a lost child.
He was no longer that shy, innocent boy who wanted only to be a hero and never really thought of being anything else. His current life was filled with so much more than just helping others out, but it also made him feel like a coward whenever he thought of what he'd left behind when he died and was saved that night.
What would his parents think of him now? The same parents that denied his ambition and pushed him to remain in the house.
His father would undoubtedly be furious. And his mother. She'd probably look at him with disapproval, and tell him to go back home because that wasn't who he was. But he didn't want her to be angry anymore. That part of him had disappeared—no, had died that night, and while Jaune knew he was better off without it, he still felt like it was missing.
Sauelsuesor absorbs the question for a long moment before responding. "I miss the familiarity of watching over the planets, yes. But being here with you has become just as important. My purpose was once singular: observe, protect from afar. With you, I see that sometimes protection must be close grounded."
Jaune felt comfort in her words. "Yeah, I guess it's kinda nice, too. Having someone close. I know you're… well, you're not like the rest of us. But you're still… someone I can count on, you know?"
He looked away. Vulnerability of his own words. He didn't exactly mean to sound... bigoted, is the word?
Her eyes softened as she glanced down at him. "That trust means a great deal, Jaune. More than you may'st realize."
A light breeze stirred the leaves around them as they continued walking. "You're really wise, Suesor… though, sometimes, I'm not sure I really understand what you're saying." He laughed awkwardly, scratching his head.
She gave him a gentle smile. "In time, you will. Just as you are learning to hold a blade with steady hands, you will learn to understand yourself and those around you. Wisdom is like learning to walk a path; each few steps teaches something new."
Jaune glanced down at the worn grip of the metal sword strapped to his side. He didn't know where she had gotten it or if she had forged it on her own, but it was a fortunate upgrade from the knife he used, and after her guidance, he'd grown somewhat more accustomed to wielding such a weapon.
At another time, he hoped it was Crocea Mors in place of it.
"You think I'll be strong enough to protect people one day? I mean, I want to be… except sometimes, it just feels so far away."
She stopped and turned to face him fully. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Strength is not just in your arms or in the sword you carry, Jaune. True strength comes from within, from knowing yourself and what you strive for. Even on the days you feel lost or afraid, the fact that you keep going… that is strength."
He didn't fully understand it, not yet, he could feel her words nestling in his gut, planting the seeds of confidence he so desperately needed.
Her presence meant everything to him, it helped him grow, and he couldn't deny how much stronger he felt when she was near him.
He's strong. He'd always done everything he could—
—No. He has never given up. That is not true strength. He has only learned how to push ahead when he is pushed back. There is no 'strength' without perseverance.
There's no strength if there isn't courage, either. No strength if there isn't compassion. That is power. Strength does not come from strength alone. Power must be built upon it.
Only then can true strength come about. And in the end, strength is defined by your choice.
His heart began racing at these words, one of the many words from her, but he couldn't take them back. They were engraved into his soul, an anchor he couldn't swim out of. The weight of everything he'd left behind, and the hope of what he might do one day if he kept going.
Even so, she would understand him better now. He'd decided to change for her sake. To do good, so long as she allowed him to do so for himself. Not because she asked it of him, but because she knew his potential. The least he could do was do her offer.
"Thank you. For everything. I know… I'm probably more trouble than it's worth sometimes."
She shook her head. "Oh Jaune, you bring no trouble to me. You are a soul in search of purpose, just as I once was. And you are worth far more than you may realize."
They continued walking, the weight of the moment settling between them, light yet profound. A warm breeze ruffled his hair, bringing the scent of the forest along with it, filling up every sense and leaving his thoughts drifting aimlessly. He smiled softly despite himself.
She brought nothing but peace and tranquility to his spirit. He'd known the second he'd been with her, the first time when they met each other. Her warmth, the kindness in her eyes, and how the moonlight caught the flecks of blue in her dark hair. He could have stayed in the darkness forever, listening to her voice until he faded into the background.
After that, he didn't dare let his mind wander for even a second. He knew she wouldn't leave him; he knew what she'd told him before, that he'd belong with her wherever he went.
After a few minutes, Jaune's curiosity got the better of him again.
"So… if you know about all these planets, like the ones with deserts and ice everywhere, have you ever seen any worlds like Remnant?"
She thought for a moment, considering his question. "There are worlds with forests and mountains, seas and deserts, each unique in its own way. But Remnant is almost unlike any world I have seen, except for one. It is a place where light and dark, strength and frailty coexist so closely. There's a beauty in its contrasts. In fact, I had never seen a world terrorized by Soulless Creatures before."
Jaune nodded. He tried to imagine what it must be like to see entire worlds. The blame doesn't fall on him, when he just discovers that Remnant is just a single speck on the sea of cosmos. "I guess… that's kinda like people, right? We all have light and dark inside us. I know I do. Especially when I feel afraid." He kicked a pebble off the path.
"Sometimes I don't feel brave at all."
He felt her gaze turn towards him, and he wanted to add, "But I'll try, anyway!" with a reassuring grin. The truth was that he had no idea if he really would.
He laughed bitterly in his mind. His grandfather always said he would go far, be a great leader. Even better, a hero. A legend. But that wasn't his purpose now. Not at this moment. He was too late for his purpose, so he had to become someone else.
No one wanted a nobody anyway, not even a failed child. So… it was either that or die trying. But… he really liked living. He liked being alive.
That sounded… kind of sad.
He's even scared to death. He's always trying to be brave, but when push comes to shove…
"Fear is not a flaw. It is part of who you are, and acknowledging it makes you braver than you realize. Bravery isn't the absence of fear—it's facing it, moving forward despite it."
He looked up at her blankly. "You're… you're really good with words, you know that? I think you're the bravest person I know. Even if I still don't know exactly where you came from."
She simply gave him a knowing smile. Her gaze was distant, like she was peering into the very cosmos themselves. "Perhaps, one day, I'll tell you more about my origins. But for now, this is where I am meant to be, walking this path with you."
Jaune smiled. A new determination lighted up his eyes. "And I'll keep trying to get stronger. So one day… maybe I can protect you, too."
She inclined her head, a subtle acknowledgment of his promise. They resumed their journey through the forest.