AN: I hold the right to utterly brutalize any canon concepts that I think suck. Soooo...expect for worldbuilding to be different than canon on topics like Atlas.

"It is certain, in any case, that ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have." - James Baldwin.

Smack.

The flat of a hand slammed into my cheek, knuckles grinding against my face as I stumbled back. My neck snapped to the side, face burning from the hit.

"You foolish child." My father hissed, eyes ripe with venom as he glared at me. "Do you even know what you have done? No! No, of course you don't!"

My hands clenched and unclenched rapidly as I forcibly prevented myself from snapping. The atmosphere of the room we were in certainly wasn't helping.

My father's office wasn't warm, nor was it inviting. The room was decorated opulently, rich mahogany wood in the furniture and dull grey cloth in the curtains. Paintings lined the pale walls as a fireplace gently crackled in the back. The orange lighting should make the room appear warm, but I only felt rage and foreboding when I saw this room.

My father glared, tongue clicking in frustration. His blue eyes held contempt, pupils clouded with disgust. Disgust shone on a face that looked geminian to my own. "Nothing to say, you retarded boy? Speak! Explain yourself!"

I remained quiet in defiance, my tongue curling around withheld scorn. I hate my father. I hate my mother. Dauphin and Antoinette Charmant were the scum of the world, utter trash whom I had to deal with. If Jacques was abusive to Weiss, a daughter, how do you think someone like him would treat a disliked son?

Another smack went across my face, the sting painful. At least Weiss had aura to lessen the damage. I have no such privileges; I wouldn't be able to show my face in public for days, my face certainly bruising from the strikes.

"Sit." Dauphin ordered, roughly shoving me towards a seat in front of his desk. Forcing my face to be expressionless and holding back curses, I sat down in the chair. My father moved to sit across from me, arms held behind his back as he walked.

I stared forward, waiting for him to get to his gaudy chair and sit. His seat was made from gold and had uncut diamonds injected into it. The seat was old, multigenerational in age. The Charmant family was descended from a cadet branch of a cadet branch of House Pepin, the dynasty that once—sort of still—owned the crown of Mantle.

All that really meant is that under the old monarchy—a monarchy that has become ceremonial—my family were minor nobles. When the monarchy started to lose power, we eventually bought back some of our ancestral artifacts…like the throne, for example.

"Do you understand that your actions have consequences?" My father harshly said, eyes intently staring at me. "Anything you do is a reflection on me, you failure of a son!"

I grit my teeth, the bones grinding against each other. My throat is tight as I forcibly hold myself back from lashing out. My hands carefully remain on my lap, grip held tight onto my knees.

"Speak!" My father ordered again.

I oblige, even if I very much did not want to do so. "I did what was in the best interest of the family." I dully say, my voice hovering at even stillness. I sound monotonous and dead.

Just you wait, Father. Bathe yourself in your fickle greed and nauseating voracity, idyllic as you douse yourself in sublunary vices. I will wait, and one day I will paint this room red with your blood, strangle you with my own two hands. I will watch life leave your eyes and feel nothing but contempt for your wretched existence.

"What was in the best interest of the family." He repeated me, a harsh tick to his voice. Dauphin spoke in a strangled growl. "And what about hugging the Schnee girl in public was in the best interest of the family? What?!"

I inhale and exhale, making sure my hands do not rise onto the table. If they did, I'm afraid that I may just kill him. I do not voice my thoughts.

A fist thumbed against the table as derision burned in Dauphin's eyes. "Do you know how Jacques will react to this? No, no, of course you don't. As mentally retarded as you are, as inept as you are, you couldn't. Of course you couldn't! Jacques wouldn't want you marrying his daughter. He will frame this as you being handsy, you moronic fool. Our name will be damaged by this, not bolstered!"

Inhale. Exhale.

"No, it will not." I calmly say, carefully controlling my breathing. "I spoke to Jacques before I hugged Weiss. He invited me to continue our conversation at his manor this week." I let a wry smile cross over my lips, spite shining in my eyes. "As much as you may hate me, Jacques despises Weiss far more. He will not act against us here."

My father remained quiet, but his expressions carried over his thoughts. There was hatred there, so much hatred. And yet, there was also interest. Even beasts could be sharp. "You desire to merge the companies."

"As you and Jacques once desired to do." I confirm with a nod, my face burning from the abuse earlier. "Jacques and I had a pleasant conversation before I hugged her. Do not think I acted without purpose, Father."

"And why would Jacques want you to marry his daughter? He is an intelligent man whilst you could make a Faunus look clever." Dauphin scoffed, staring at me in disdain. "What about you is desirable? There is nothing about you that is good, nothing about you that is worthwhile."

Inhale. Exhale.

"Acting against us will damage the relations between our families." I ignore Dauphin's insults. "Furthermore, he believes me to be easily swayed into his camp. Every man looks for a legacy one day, and Jacques would prefer a like-minded heir than a rebel. Regardless of who I am, Jacques just needs to be convinced of what I can be. To him, he wishes to procure himself."

Silence overcame my father. A glint of curiosity and greed flashed in his eyes. "And what of his son? Whitley holds Jacques's beliefs."

"Weiss is a better piece to play due to being a woman. Jacques understands better than any the value of marrying talent into the line. If he marries Weiss and I, the SDC would nearly double in value." I inhale and exhale, closing my eyes for a moment. "If he makes Whitley the heir, there is no good person for the boy to marry. Whitley does not have the same potential for growth."

And Whitley will not be heir. I will make sure of it.

"And, anyways, you would know better than any that a father mustn't necessarily like their son." I snidely say, but he ignores it.

"What makes you think I will sign any betrothal contract?" My father asks, but I already knew I had him. Avarice shone brightly in his eyes.

"You and Mother planned to have Weiss and I betrothed as children, yes?" I tilted my head, meeting his gaze. "But Jacques pulled out of the deal when Weiss and I did not get along, I imagine."

Mother and Father do not care enough about me to let me have a happy marriage. Whilst Jacques does not care for Weiss, his wife has some feelings for her. Willow Schnee was still a semi-functional human at that point, so she probably is the reason for the cancellation of the deal.

Dauphin held his stare on me. It was uncanny, his eyes. "You would be correct."

"Of course I would be." I easily say, weathering the withering look he gave me. "And we both know it was his wife that spearheaded that change. Given Willow's…current state, there will be no push back on that front."

Willow's alcoholism and general reclusiveness wasn't advertised, not in the slightest. Regardless of this fact, those close to the Schnee family knew. Given I grew up knowing the women as a nice aunt, I was one of those people privy to that knowledge.

"Mind your tongue, son." It was impressive, the way he made the word son sound like the most graven of slurs.

That didn't mean I cared for what he said. I did not fear him, not in the slightest. I am simply biding my time, waiting for when my hands can wrap around his neck and throttle the life from his soul.

I could imagine it, sweaty palms pressed against a cooling neck, light drained in a moment. I hate my family. I despise my mother and father. Their deaths will bring me nothing but joy—

Inhale. Exhale.

"Of course, Father. Will we use my plan?"

"...very well." My father agreed, the words nearly spat out. He seemed disgusted by the fact that I could make an intelligent course of action. Dauphin considered me to be so far under his boot, he didn't even view me as a person.

Amusing, then, that I would soon own all of what he has. Amusing that his legacy would be mine. His dreams, mine. His hopes, mine. Mine, mine, mine. I would crush them. I would do better.

He would be forgotten to this world, the only memory this world holding of him being that of a failure. An obstacle in my path.

I forced a polite smile on my face. My eyes, however, remained perfectly dead, no light or gleam to them. "Thank you, Father. If I may be excused?"

"Be gone." Dauphin waved me off, not caring for my existence. "I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day."

"Understood." I dipped my head and stood. "I will be heading to the Schnee Manor in a day or so. I'll be sure to be persuasive to Jacques."

My father ignored me and I held back a sigh, turning around. With not a single step out of place, I walked out of the room and into the hallway.

I truly hate that man. I don't think of myself as a psychopath or as a sadist, but I just hate him so, so much. I don't think I'd be particularly sad if he died—either at my hands or another's.

The fact that I am more fond of Jacques than him speaks wonders of my father, really. It spoke of how horrible of a person he is.

I sigh again, moving through the hallway. Our home was vastly different from the Schnee Manor. They were, comparatively, new money. The Schnee Manor was built twenty five years ago. Our home was built three hundred years ago.

Oh, it was not nearly as impressive as the Schnee's home, that is true…but I always found the Schnee Manor to be foreboding. It wasn't homely, really. Where the Schnee's used white lighting, we used warm lighting. Where they used a bicolor pallet of white and blue, we had a myriad of reds and oranges and browns and yellows.

The Schnee Manor was meant to be impressive. Our home was first made to be a defensive position against Grimm invasions and vagabonds. It is why our home is in Atlas opposed to Mantle—King Alfonso the Feeble ordered us here, likely because my great-great-times ten grandfather was King Alfonso's younger brother, Prince Adalbert.

Adalbert lost a war of succession against Alfonso. Alfonso, however, was kind hearted, a fact which resulted in him ordering Adalbert to preside over the outskirts of the Mantle plains. It is why he is called the feeble, after all.

Anyways, my family is descended from Adalbert's second son's second son. On the totem of relevancy, my dynasty was a footnote on history…the house is nice, though. It is on the outskirts of Atlas, not in the city proper. Fort Carmen is the district of Atlas it is in. Although, technically the entire district is part of the property.

Sort of.

The home we live in is Fort Carmen, the first structure in this part of the city of Atlas. Then people started building their homes around the fort because it offered protection against thieves, Grimm, and vagabonds. Time flew by, centuries passed, and now they simply refer to this district as Fort Carmen.

The history of the City of Atlas is actually remarkably interesting. The city itself started as several dozen towns which became five separate cities. The city-state of Mantle eventually led a unification campaign during the Era of Expansion, subduing the several city-states that made up the current City of Atlas.

So, yeah, pretty interesting in my opinion.

I stop walking as I reach a door, hand grasping the knob to my bedroom. I need to get changed into a different set of clothes; I plan to head out in a minute. I have something I need to do desperately.

My aura. I need to unlock it. All my life, I desperately wanted to have it. It was…due to several different reasons.

As a little kid—seven or so—Weiss had already had her mind set on being a huntress. She couldn't shut up about it, yammering on and on about how she was going to be like her grandfather, preaching to everyone who could hear about how awesome and superior she was. Of course, that meant that when I heard of it I, like the dumb little kid I was, thought it sounded cool. I saw her semblance and was enamored by how awesome it was…

So I went home and told my father I wanted to be a huntsman. He reacted in a…spectacular manner: he promptly smacked me across the face and spanked the idea out of me, an action which remained effective to this day.

I still have zero desire to be a huntsman, the job is far too brutal for me to ever do it—but having my aura activated? I'd be an idiot to not do so. The power to shrug off bullets and heal fast is remarkable, especially when I will eventually face assassins.

The other day at the Schnee Gala, I had thought about just asking Weiss to activate it for me. She'd probably do it with enough pressure, I have no doubt about it, but I…also just had no desire for her to do it.

See, activating someone's aura is an intimate process. You are quite literally touching their soul with your own. The fact that Pyrrha will do it to Jaune is insane to me, it really is. As I have no desire to let somebody I will be communicating semi-regularly with experience my soul, I'll pay someone to do it instead.

There are companies who will accept lien to activate your aura, so that is what I will do. Dauphin explicitly forbade me from getting my aura activated, but what he does not know will not hurt hi—wait, it will. It really will.

QRST

I closed my eyes as I leaned back in my seat, waiting for the train to thunder towards my stop a good three miles away. It shouldn't take terribly long, but I prefer to not have to mingle with others.

Well, whatever. Nobody on a train wants to talk to other people. The subway has always been a den for normative antisocial behavior—well, as long as you weren't in the New York Metro, but the Atlasian Subway was, thankfully, nothing like that.

If I were forced to make a comparison, I'd describe it as being like Paris's Train System. You'd occasionally see beggars between trains, some going onto the trains themselves to sleep and enjoy the heating. For the majority of people, though, they were positively miserable as they waited for their stop to come up, silent in the overly packed vehicle.

I prefer it this way; at least I don't have to talk to people. Undesired interaction is always miserable. If I tried to talk to someone here, I'd just get yelled at. Rude people can be great, sometimes.

From beneath me, the methodical churning of wheels pounded, the clicks of metal on metal rhythmic. The sound of whooshing wind was near-soothing as the vehicle speared through the stagnant air.

Being in a train was always an experience, even if I had experienced that experience dozens of times. There was something…not wonderful, no, but intriguing? about the feel of the world shifting around you at a mile a minute.

My ancestors a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, could not comprehend this feeling. Humankind truly is the master of the planet, and things like this just filled me with pride for my species.

I was part of something grand, something far beyond myself.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as the metal behemoth began to slow, the chinks and clicks of the wheels becoming spaced and delayed. With an electric ding, the train came to a stop, people flooding out and into the station. This, however, was not my stop.

My stop was the one after this. It was a shame that I was forced to take the underground metro to the shop, but the hovering station wouldn't reach the level I needed to be on.

With another electric ding, the doors closed with a pressurized hiss. The train roared back into motion as the world once again zoomed by, the dark tunnels I was in passing me in a blur.

It chugged and clamored along, the pounding of heavy metal on tracks playing in my ears. Eventually, though, we once again began to slow down. My eyes flickered open as I pushed myself off of my seat. Time to leave.

A mechanical ting sounded when we stopped, the doors opening with a hissing noise. I pushed through the cacophony of flooding bodies, making my way through the herd of people. Making my way into the station, I cringed at the smell of it.

I wasn't used to being in a place with so many people—not in this life, at least. Repugnant scents clouded my nostrils as I crinkle my nose in disgust. The station was dirty and messy, putrid smells and excessive trash a gross sight to behold.

Well, whatever. I won't be here for long anyways. It still makes me sad that my city would allow for places to be in such squalor.

Pushing forth, I did as all good people do—ignore the beggars while carefully avoiding eye contact. It was somewhat tragic seeing humans stuck asking others for lien, seeing human beings be dirty in tattered clothes below a nasty roof with dull lights.

I would help them one day, even if it wasn't today. We allow Fauni to get jobs and do labor while our own people go without homes and food. It was wrong, it was sad. My heart steeled even further in its derision towards the Faunus species.

With a sigh, I stepped onto an escalator, the machine pulling me up and onto the sidewalk above. Atlas is a highly walkable city, something that makes getting around remarkably easy. It is why I began moving with purpose in a direction, already knowing I'd find the shop I needed to activate my aura with ease.

Skyscrapers pierced the heavens above me and walkways were interwoven in the sky as I navigated a herd of bustling people. People moved by me, everyone walking with purpose and not giving anyone around them the time of day.

Atlas really is a beautiful city. The architecture of the towering buildings weren't like the brutalist and gothic skyscrapers of New York. Rather, the spiraling pillars of Atlas looked almost mythical in their architecture. Like they were something pulled from Disneyland, the towers looked as if they had been stolen from royal palaces and stabbed into the ground.

Very little natural sunlight filtered into Atlas due to the sheer density of spiraling buildings and how it is built in levels. The hard light bubble surrounding the city, however, made the city always have a mystical blue glow to it, the sky seemingly like an aurora borealis.

The bubble also produces ultraviolet B radiation, the type of radiation required for the body to produce vitamin D. Poor Mantle, however, is stuck taking pills for vitamin D deficiency.

Mantle was left in the shadow of Atlas—both literally and metaphorically. When Atlas was ripped from the ground and hung above Mantle, it prevented the lower city from getting any-sort of natural light…good planning, Ozpin.

I move into an alleyway, walking past stores, shops, and far too many people. The population density of Atlas is genuinely outrageous. Anyways, I walk through the alley and move towards a staircase, taking it up towards a higher level.

Currently, there are ten levels in Atlas, the bottom two of them being underground. I'm currently moving to the fourth level, the very first level to not be on or under the ground. The levels in the sky are made up of systems of walkways and paths, shops filling in any nook or cranny.

Again, Atlas was a highly dense city. As we are stuck with a limited amount of land, we were forced to vertically expand. It gave the city a very cyberpunk look. A magical cyberpunk, I suppose.

Reaching the peak of the stairs, I moved into the fourth level and took a dead right. In my vision was a rinky-dink shop, the building beat down by age. People flooded by it, not one person stopping to look at the shop as they walked.

I guess they don't get too many customers? Well, I suppose people don't often need their aura activated. And it makes even more sense given the fact they charge ten thousand lien to activate your aura. Outrageous, but it wasn't like I had better options.

Walking forward, I approached the shoddy-looking store. My head was held high as I approached the place that would finally, finally, allow me to ignore the abuse my family dishes onto me.

"Could you spare some lien, Sir?" A pitiful voice called out to me from my side. I instinctively looked over and cursed myself immediately for doing so. In both of my lives, society taught me to ignore people who desperately needed money. My father had always schooled me to ignore those sorts.

I'd never been good at it, though. I don't consider myself to be a particularly good or kind person, but I feel a deep pride in humanity. I struggle to ignore being directly asked by a person for help.

I sigh, hand reaching towards my pocket where my wallet was. Looking down at the perso—oh. They had fox ears and whiskers. A Faunus. Surprising, given the fact that poor Fauni tend to live in Mantle or in the SDC mines.

They—she—they looked pitiful, clothes in poor shape as sh—they huddled on the ground, leaned against a wall. They were an older being, hair graying and skin wrinkled. They had a cup in their hand, some change held inside of it.

A touch of empathy gripped at my heart when I saw their very human eyes and their mostly human face. Yet they were not human. They were not a person. They were simply a facsimile of a human, a fake, a phony. My hand fled my pocket.

"I don't have any spare change." I flatly say, turning away. The money in my wallet felt all the heavier. The well-made clothes on my body felt like it had gained weight.

I really do need to steel myself, don't I? I shouldn't fall to the tricks of animals like that. I should be better.

With that, I keep walking forward, heading towards the shop as I ignore the being who asked me for change. I also happily ignore them telling me to have a good day.

It is humans who matter, not…them. I will not fall for their tricks.