For What It's Worth
Interlude
0.1
The Atlas Academy is an institution that many consider better compared to most of its contemporaries, such as Haven Academy in Mistral and Shade Academy in Vacuo. It was arguably just as prestigious as Beacon Academy in Vale, most people living in the Solitas continent would argue that Atlas was better than Beacon but the latter's higher number of Vytal Festival championships seems to disprove this notion.
Renowned for its rigorous training and high standards, the Academy is an institution that trains both military personnel and Huntsman candidates—training individuals to protect the kingdom and its people from the Grimm and natural calamities while cultivating disciplined soldiers and leaders.
The frostbitten air of Atlas's elite military academy was sharp and unyielding, much like Captain Winter Schnee herself. The crystalline walls of the training arena were excellently lit by the ceiling lights, despite this the Captain's vision dimmed. Winter stood at the center, clad in her pristine white uniform, her posture as rigid and immaculate as her reputation. Before her, a dozen training drones whirred to life, each armed with a diverse set of simulated weapons made of hard light designed to test even the most seasoned Huntsman. The hard light weapons, although not lethal, would send an intense shock once they made contact with any living material. Assuming these drones could land a single hit on General Ironwood's personal security detail.
Winter gripped the hilt of her rapier, Carte Blanche, its polished steel gleaming with a faint aura of Dust energy. Her blade was less of a weapon and more of an extension of herself, an additional limb that was sleek, elegant, and lethally precise. She measuredly breathed, her slate blue eyes narrowing as she assessed the arena.
The first drone lunged forward, its massive blade slicing downward in a wide arc. Winter stepped into the attack, her movements displayed a symphony of grace and efficiency. Her rapier shot forward, its tip striking the drone's neck joint in a precise thrust that severed the connection. Sparks flew as the drone's arm dropped the massive blade and fell limp, but Winter was already moving.
Pivoting on her heel, she turned to face two more incoming drones. Before any of the drones could do anything her blade whistled through the air in a horizontal slash, slicing cleanly through one drone's torso instantly 'killing' it. The other drone swung a heavy mace, but Winter sidestepped with millimeter precision by using Dust pellets to freeze the ground. Her boots skimmed the frosted ground allowed her to easily outmaneuver the drone. With a flick of her wrist, she parried the follow-up blow, redirecting the mace into the ground with a sharp clang.
Her counterattack was instantaneous. Carte Blanche glowed with icy blue energy as she channeled Dust into her strikes. The rapier pierced the drone's core, the Dust discharging in a burst of freezing energy that encased the machine in crystalline ice.
The remaining drones advanced as a unit, their movements synchronized. Winter's mind raced, calculating vectors and trajectories. Her hereditary semblance, the Schnee Glyphs, manifested as a spectral copy of a Boarbatusk shimmered into existence like starlight. The summoned Grimm standing beside her, its tusks aimed toward her foes.
She launched the spectral Boarbatusk to strike a drone flanking her. At the same time, she danced between the remaining enemies, her movements impossibly fluid. Her rapier struck with pinpoint accuracy—joints, sensors, and power cores—all targeted with surgical precision. Her strikes were efficient and did not waste time on unnecessary movements such as flashy finishers.
One drone managed to outflank both the spectral Grimm and its master, its hard light blade almost landing against her back. Before contact was made, however, a glyph manifested in front of the drone, a second spectral Boarbatusk emerged. The drone's blade landed clean on the second Boarbatusk's head, but the spectral Grimm didn't so much as react to the strike. Merely ramming the drone to the ground crushing it in an instant.
On the outside Winter maintained her calm expression, but on the inside, she had berated herself for allowing a simple drone to get the drop on her. Humiliated as she was, the feeling was a lesson, a reminder of her inability to reach perfection. Winter may not have shown the rage on her face but her actions displayed it. She retaliated with a flurry of thrusts against the last drones, her strikes were feral yet elegant.
As the last drone fell, its body crumpling to the ground in a cascade of sparks, Winter lowered her blade. Her breaths were steady despite the exertion, her posture as poised as ever.
A slow clap echoed through the arena, announcing to Winter that she wasn't alone anymore in the training arena. Looking at the observation platform above she saw who it was that had entered the arena. Major Clover Ebi, commanding officer of the Atlesian military's most elite unit; the Ace Operatives, or Ace Ops for short.
"Impressive, Captain Schnee," he said, his tone both approving and expectant. "Your control over Dust infusion and your mastery of swordplay are exemplary. But remember, perfection in the training arena is not the same as victory on the battlefield."
Winter sheathed Carte Blanche with a crisp motion, her expression stoic. "Understood, Major. But I assure you, when the battlefield calls, I will be ready. If you prefer evidence of my abilities then my field records are open for you to read."
Winter may have unintentionally delivered her word with a hint of contempt as Clover raised his hands in mock surrender. "Peace, Winter. I meant no implications with my observation. I was only offering advice, I tend to do that when interacting with those I outrank." He replied with a smile. "Also it makes me look more welcoming when I do that, according to HR that is." Clover cheekily added.
Winter allowed herself a small smile at her superior's words, "I also apologize Major, I meant no ill will with my words."
"Eh, no harm no foul Captain. I went here on my way to conference room 1A to pick you up."
Winter raised her eyes, curious as to why Clover was headed to the main conference room, and as to why she was needed. She checked her scroll and quickly noticed a notification directly from the General. "General Ironwood has summoned all notable personnel for an impromptu meeting." She broadly stated.
"That he has, shall we head over Captain?"
"Yes sir."
Winter linked up with Clover using the short elevator that led to the observation deck. After which both of them exited the training arena entirely and continued in the hallway leading to their destination.
"Say, Winter," Clover started. "Do you have an idea what General Ironwood's meeting is about?"
"Since you learned about it first before I did then no. But I'm sure we'll eventually know why. Won't we, Major?" Winter replied curtly, barely holding the urge to roll her eyes at her superior.
"Sheesh, Winter. No wonder the students call you the ice queen." Clover replied with a small laugh.
Winter felt her eye twitch at hearing the nickname. "I prefer you not mutter that accursed name when near me Major."
"Just an observation Captain. Although if you want that nickname to die down then you need to start heeding HR's advice."
Winter internally groaned. It wasn't that she disliked the military's HR department but their suggestions to—improve—her overall image required her to cut some of her training time in exchange with unnecessary interactions with those she outranked.
"No thanks, Major. Also on the topic of HR, when making comments about my performance I prefer constructive criticisms rather than compliments."
"Unfortunately Captain compliments are all I have for you. Honestly with your abilities, had you not been selected for General Ironwood's personal detail I would've offered you a spot in the Ace Ops as my second in command right now." Clover said.
Winter was sure that Clover's statement was also a compliment but the contents of his words had caught her attention. "Your second in command? So it's true then? Lieutenant Onyx's retirement has been finalized?"
"Unfortunately so, Captain. With the second officer of the Ace Ops gone, I'm left as the only acting CO of my unit. Lucky me, eh?"
"I'm sure General Ironwood would green-light your request to recruit another officer from any unit."
"Way ahead of you Winter, General Ironwood had already greenlit my requests. Order papers were finalized two days ago."
"So who's replacing Lieutenant Onyx?" Winter inquired.
"I've promoted Sergeant Major Tortuga to Lieutenant, although that means she's currently in the officer candidate program." Answered Clover.
"How long will she be gone? How about the current replacement?"
"Only for three months, as for the current replacement I've already selected one from the batch that just graduated."
"Which one?"
"A private by the name of Marrow Amin. I think you might know him, he's the guy whose semblance could freeze things in place."
"I think I do, Major." Winter said offhandedly, not sure if she knew who Clover's new operative was.
The rest of the walk was short as it was a weekday which meant that there was a lack of students and under-ranked soldiers that would've absolutely saluted them. By regulations would've also had both of them return every single salute. After a short while they had finally arrived at their destination. Upon entering conference room 1A Winter quickly noticed the amount of people that General Ironwood had summoned, or lack thereof.
"Ah Captain Schnee, Major Ebi. Please take a seat so we can begin." Both Winter and Clover had taken a seat beside each other.
Apart from Winter and Clover, there were only four other people inside the conference room. The first was a man who was as tall as the General who was seated directly in front of her. This was Colonel Victor Greyfax, commanding officer of the infantry. Despite wearing his standard uniform befitting his rank, Colonel Greyfax preferred wearing his old and heavy full-body armor that had been discontinued by the Atlesian military in over a decade. Claiming that the new standard-issue body armor was nothing more than a costume that couldn't protect its wearer. To this day Winter wasn't sure what the man's hair color was as he always kept his head clean-shaven, as his field cap lay on the table.
To Colonel Greyfax's left was another officer of similar rank, a dark-skinned woman that had dark teal hair with a grey streak in the middle. Colonel Dana Soleil was the commanding officer of the Atlesian military's research and development unit. Unlike her counterpart in the infantry, Colonel Soleil had opted to only add a simple lab gown atop her uniform.
Winter remembered talking to her once in a previous meeting about how her daughter's team had ranked first in the batch of first-year students. 'As expected from her.' was the woman's curt reply, but anyone could easily tell the immense pride she had for her daughter from the comment. Colonel Soleil's daughter was the leader of their team, team CPPR or Copper.
'Unlike Weiss.' Winter bitterly mused.
Speaking of team CPPR, despite the excellent leadership of the team no one could ignore the beast of the huntress the team had for muscle. Said teammate's father, Pietro Polendina, was the fifth person attending the meeting. Pietro was an old man by the classic sense, once wild red hair was now grey and balding, wearing his signature pince-nez glasses and a large pink bowtie that she found rather cute. Not that she was willing to admit it though. Pietro wasn't exactly with them physically inside the room but instead, he was attending using an online screen from his workshop in Mantle.
Of course, the last person in the room was General James Ironwood, current commander in chief of the Atlesian armed forces.
"Alright. With everybody here, let's begin. I'd like to apologize for calling this meeting on such short notice. With that said, I have specifically chosen all of you under the belief that your insights would prove valuable in this meeting's topic. Please know however that you are the only officers I could find on quick notice." Ironwood said with a voice that easily flowed with authority.
"Two days ago our intelligence unit received a message through one of their channels," He continued, pressing a button on his scroll a holographic sequence emerged in the middle of the gathered group. "As you can see, the channel used is an outdated one that hasn't seen use since the Faunus uprisings."
"Do we know who sent this message?" Asked Greyfax.
"We do since the sender was quick to introduce themselves in their message. I'm sure you're well acquainted with the individual."
General Ironwood pressed his scroll again and an image of an aging man popped up beside the sequence.
"Major Paulus Silverstein," said Greyfax. "He was my CO back when I was still a young Lieutenant. Isn't he already retired?"
"He is," Winter said, getting the attention of everyone in the room. "The former Major is currently employed in the Schnee manor as the head of security."
Even so, her expression didn't betray her. Being the lowest-ranked officer in the room it had unnerved Winter a bit to have the undivided attention of those who outranked her.
"Any reason why he's contacting us, sir?" Winter continued.
Ironwood nodded at her. "The former Major had sent a series of videos and accompanying these videos was a write-up."
Ironwood then displayed an image but instead of the retired Major, to everyone's surprise, especially for Winter, it was an image of a child. "Ladies and gentlemen the image before you is that of the 15 year old teenager Whitley Schnee. He is the third child between Jacques and Willow Schnee."
Winter had spaced out a bit during Ironwood's brief introduction of her brother. A small pit in her stomach had formed as her superior spoke. 'Why are you the subject of a top priority meeting Whitley? What the hell did you do?!'
With her immense discipline, Winter easily shook the unwelcoming feeling. She was also quick enough that aside from Greyfax, the other three had stolen glances at her. Confusion, evident in their faces.
"Captain Schnee," Ironwood called out to her.
"Yes, General?"
"What do you know of your brother's educational achievements?" Ironwood had asked. It was a simple question, a question too simple that Winter quickly assumed it was a trick question.
"From the brief descriptions from our head servant, my brother's educational achievements are normal for his age. With the sciences being his favorite subject." Winter answered truthfully. The hollowness from her description did not escape her.
"Did your brother have any form of training or an apprenticeship of sorts from any of the leading IT universities in Atlas or Mantle?" Ironwood asked.
The general's follow-up question had thrown her off due to how random it was to her ears. "Not that I know off?"
"Was that a question?" Asked Ironwood.
"No sir," Winter quickly amended her mistake. "Whitley Schnee does not have any form of training or apprenticeship of sorts with any IT universities. His knowledge is purely within his age group, albeit above average." Her emotionless answer had gotten nondiscreet looks from her superiors. Making her desperately fight a blush.
"In the write-up, Major Silverstein had predicted Captain Schnee's answer. Which makes the next topic highly unusual." Ironwood once again interacted with his scroll and a video began playing on the hologram, the quality and the angle of the video showed that it was taken from a security camera. The video showed at least a dozen or so people who wore a specific uniform that Winter quickly recognized as the servant's uniform of the Schnee manor. However Winter didn't recognize the area the people were in but the amount of food that wasn't presented in an extravagant manner, which made her deduce that it was a cafeteria of sorts.
The start seemed simple enough, the servants of the Schnee manor probably having a meal but the following events shocked Winter. As the topic of the meeting himself, Whitley, barged through the cafeteria door looking worse for wear. His clothes were torn, his hair disheveled, and a look on his face that showed an intense expression.
The pit Winter felt got deeper.
The video showed Whitley ripping off numerous espresso machines out of their sockets and stacking them on his shoulders. During the process, entire glass pots filled with coffee fell on her brother with some even landing on his face. To Winter's surprise, her brother hadn't reacted at all to being drenched in what she assumed was scalding liquid based on the smoke that came from the liquid. 'He didn't even blink from getting splashed in the face with hot coffee!'
Ironwood was quick to do the same process as the video ended. Much like the first video, the second one began in the Schnee manor but this video took place in the staff kitchen. Again, the mundane activities of the staff weren't important as her brother barged through the doors looking worse for wear once more. A notable difference was that Whitley's hair was longer and that he was wearing clothing that resembled the basic sleepwear issued to the Atlesian rank and file. The same intense expression on his face as he ripped the different contents out of some miniovens and microwaves. Like the previous video, the immensely hot kitchenware didn't get a reaction from her brother.
As the video ended Ironwood gave everyone a look. "Thoughts?"
"He's on something." Dana started. "The face is a dead giveaway, but the lack of a reaction to physical pain suggests the child is on something incredibly strong."
The head of the R face was neutral but her tone was accusatory. Winter had to fight the impulse to start shouting at her superior. Although not for Whitley's defense but at the derogatory insinuation of her Schnee heritage. Greyfax merely gave her the side eye as if to say that such occurrences were common among Winter's social class.
"I'm more interested in what the materials the boy gathered. They were all electrical appliances and if we are to take Colonel Soleil's…hypothesis," Pietro had the grace to not immediately accuse Winter's brother. "Then quite frankly the situation doesn't make sense."
The atmosphere of the room felt increasingly unbearable for Winter as her mind was taken by waves of anger and disbelief. Had these people been of any other profession outside the military then her pride would've made her act instantly against them. Discipline, however, was the only thing stopping her.
"General Ironwood," Clover spoke.
"Yes, Major?"
"Is there any significant importance to us about Captain Schnee's brother? From my recollection, we've never held a meeting discussing the behaviors of the social elite of Atlas. Much less an emergency."
"Excellent question Major. The next set of videos I'm about to show is the main reason I called this meeting."
The third video began and from the telltale signs of equipment and the obvious elongated vehicle that was a limousine, this was the mechanical wing of the manor. Winter tensed at what appliances was her brother taking this time, but instead of the obvious answers the video had her shocked. Whitley enters the frame and it is immediately obvious that there was something up with him.
There was something that clung to his body that didn't look like anything Winter had ever seen. It wasn't armor exactly, though it had the same kind of hard, metallic sheen. Bands of what looked like unnaturally blackened steel wrapped around his limbs, hugging every muscle like it had been custom-molded to his shape. Every step Whitley took emphasized how the joints articulated—smooth, almost too smooth like a second skeleton was bolted over his skin.
Cables, no thicker than tendons, snaked along the length of his arms and legs, disappearing into small housings near the joints. A small, boxy contraption sat on his back, with vents that released thin streams of heat into the air that Winter almost didn't notice. 'Was it a power source? A computer? Both? What are you wearing Whitley?'
To everyone's surprise, Whitley had lifted the limousine over his head with both hands like someone would a package. His movements weren't natural. But it wasn't clunky or awkward, either. There wasn't a sign of struggle as Whitley walked away with over 15 to 20 tons over his head.
"I think I'm starting to understand why you called us General." Commented Clover.
"I have two more to show all of you but I want your insights before the last one."
The second to the last video played and the scenery was that of the air. An aerial view of the east side of the manor was the main backdrop until a rocket-like object was captured by the feed. The notion that it was a rocket was quickly dispelled when the camera zoomed in on the object and revealed a humanoid shape. Shock was clear, especially at the faces of Dana and Polendina, who seemed to have put two and two together.
The aerial view of the video continued before the human-shaped rocket suddenly blew up and crashed at the center of the manor. The video cut and quickly displayed the hallway with none other than her brother walking the hallway wearing a bulky piece of armor that was sparking at the back. His face looked more annoyed at the literal fire on his back rather than being in pain.
Ironwood ended the video and immediately put up two images; the first was the damaged suit up close that was propped up against a wall and the other was a series of ugly-looking appliances that assumedly looked like espresso machines and microwaves.
Ironwood cleared his throat. "These inventions come from an unexpected source. Whitley Schnee." By then it wasn't Ironwood who commanded the room's attention—it was the two holograms spinning slowly in mid-air.
Winter blinked, her disciplined composure slipping for a moment. "Whitley? My brother?"
Ironwood gave her a measured nod. "Major Silverstein has confirmed from different interviews from the Schnee manor staff and from Whitley Schnee himself that the young man was able to create a fully functioning suit of power armor from an unthinkable set of resources."
"Impossible," Stated Dana. "Are you seriously telling us that someone was able to make a technological impossibility into reality by using nothing more than a vehicle and various kitchenware? By a child no less?"
"Yes." Was the general's deadpan answer. "Whitley had even named it the Mark 1."
"Colonel Soleil," Clover said before the woman could say anything. "As much as I agree with you, the evidence is right in front of us."
Pietro interacted with the hologram, too stunned to participate in the current conversation. The hologram zoomed in on the Mark 1. Despite being held up unceremoniously he could easily tell that the suit was taller than the wearer. Despite the low quality of the materials used Pietro could quickly tell the level of craftsmanship displayed. Its armor plates interlocked seamlessly, and thrusters were visible on its back, palms, and boots.
Pietro leaned forward, his face lit with fascination. "Incredible!" He exclaimed with childlike glee. Look at the design—it's a high-output propulsion system! Those joints must use some kind of nanomaterial to avoid wear at high speeds. And the power source... something so small yet can be piloted by an individual, it must be something groundbreaking."
"And yet it still blew up." Commented Greyfax.
"But you can't ignore that the pilot survived a drop of some 300 meters while still being operational after the fall." Pietro looked at Ironwood. "General Ironwood, does the former Major know of the Mark 1's location?"
Ironwood minimized the image of the Mark 1 and maximized the image of the ugly appliances. "I do. Apparently, after a stern talking to by Klein Seiben, the head of staff, Whitley had cut down the Mark 1 and converted the material back into their original forms."
Another bout of stunned silence filled the room. Each one with a different reaction but none seemed to matter as Winter's mind went blank at the words she was hearing. "Whitley…did,"
"That's…" Even the head of the R seemed too stunned to form words.
"Did Major Silverstein provide a reason as to how such a young person was able to achieve such feats when all logic says no?" Greyfax spoke, being the first to break through the stupor.
Ironwood nodded at the Colonel, "Based on an investigation done, the following day after Whitley had crashed he had interacted with the manor's head of logistics, a man by the name of Redburns. According to Redburns' account, he had personally asked Whitley how he was able to achieve such skills. Whitley replied in all seriousness that a month ago he had passed out from some form of stroke, by the time he woke up he had immediately realized his skills."
"What in Oum's name?" Replied Dana, shaking her head.
"This just keeps getting more and more interesting." Said Pietro with a smile.
"General, what are you planning with regards to my brother?" Winter said, finally regaining her composure.
Pietro raised his hands through the screen, his voice was filled with cautious optimism. "General, if I may... Whitley's work, despite circumstances, is extraordinary. If we could collaborate with him—bring him into the military's R —there's no telling what we could accomplish."
"Agreed," said Dana with resignation. Greyfax looked like he couldn't care less about what was going to happen next. As for Clover, he looked at Winter with concern.
Winter's jaw tightened, her tone clipped. "Or how much we'd compromise in doing so. Whitley has no military training, and no understanding of the risks we face every day. His inventions are impressive, but without oversight, to him they're just... toys."
Ironwood met Winter's gaze, his tone understanding yet resolute. "That's why we're here. To determine how these fit into Atlas's future—if at all."
"So what happens now, General?" Asked Clover.
The man sighed, "When I was presented with this information I had originally wanted to grant extended leave for Captain Schnee to visit her brother under the guise of easing Whitley into wanting to meet with us willingly. That unfortunately won't be the case."
Winter tensed, unsure if it was because of the idea of being forced to interact with her brother or what was coming next.
"According to Major Silverstein, Whitley was able to convince his father to allow him to use one of their many factory assets for better material. With the Major being his main guardian for the duration of the stay." Another video popped up in the middle, Winter was beginning to hate these surprise videos.
This time it was from the point of view of a personal scroll's video lens. It started with the user inside an elevator, then the user exited the elevator and entered a huge interior space filled with industrial equipment. At the center was none other than her brother Whitley, whose face was just as intense as in previous videos. Whitley was focused typing away at a hologram at an insane speed and every word he typed resulted in one of the industrial machinery moving in kind.
So intense was his focus that he had failed to notice the man literally pointing a camera at his face. Not getting a reaction from the child, the user left the boy and went back towards the elevator, but stopped at the coat on the ground just a few feet away. They went to one of the coat's pockets and pulled out what seemed like a hilt to a saber with a trigger mechanism of sorts. The user interacted with the trigger and a purple haze emanated from the hilt. The user gave a flourish and the purple energy hummed with power. Interacting with the trigger mechanism made the purple energy disappear back into the hilt and the user placed it back into the coat. The video ended after that.
"That was what Whitley called a beam saber, and it doesn't run on dust. Nor do any of Whitley's creations for that matter."
"We need to bring that child here immediately." Said Dana with a demanding tone.
"Agreed." Concurred Pietro.
"No!" Winter exclaimed in disbelief. "This is ridiculous, General if—"
"I side with them, Captain," Ironwood said.
"But," Whatever Winter wanted to say was halted by the General's hand. "I showed the final video not because of the beam saber or its implications, but because of Whitley's current project." Ironwood maximized a certain scene from the previous video, and a series of wings and other large parts became clear. "Within 30 hours of arriving at their selected factory, Whitley was able to reproduce a personal aircraft that outperforms all existing Bullheads."
Ironwood pulled out a grid at the center of the hologram, it was a three-dimensional radar grid of the city of Mantle. "Last night at approximately six in the evening, Whitley had taken his aircraft for a ride across the city."
The radar grid then displayed the symbol for an unknown flying object that went as a blur a few times at the grid before disappearing entirely.
"Mantle's Air Traffic Organization, or ATO, had sent a request to the MPD to find out who was responsible for the aircraft that had broken over nine air laws." Ironwood looked at Winter. "I'm sorry Captain, but as of right now, we have a warrant for your brother's arrest. And I believe that it would be beneficial for your brother that he ends up under our care rather than any of Mantle's governing body."
After the declaration of her brother's arrest from Ironwood, time seemed to slow down to Winter. She had left her family suddenly all those years ago and now it seems her lineage came knocking right at her doorstep.
As the meeting adjourned, Ironwood gave one final message that echoed in Winter's. "Your brother has potential, but potential is a dangerous thing. Let's hope Whitley Schnee understands that as well as we do."
AN: I don't own any of the copyright material shown in this fic, I'm merely writing this for fun.
Apologies for the delay in posting this update. A hectic holiday schedule followed by a hectic uni registration period took most of my time. Either thanks to those who interacted with this story even if you've just read it. To those wondering what the Dragonflight looks like in the previous chapter I was mostly using the fanarts from Dragon's actual tinkertech.
That said, with my schedule finally consistent I'll be able to post the next and final chapter for the first arc before the end of the month. Till then see you soon!