Adam sat down heavily in one of Percy's chairs, collapsing into the sofa. "And what exactly did you need me here for so early in the morning?"

Percy glanced at the clock on his desk, realizing that yes, it was quite early in the morning. Almost 5, to be exact. He hadn't quite noticed it was so late — or early —, with jet lag being a thing.

Percy himself walked over and sat on the arm of his couch, across from Adam. "I know you're leaving in a few hours for Atlas. This meeting is to tell you I'm coming with you, and to calm you down when you inevitably freak out on me."

Adam huffed, made to say something, seemingly thought better of it, and paused.

"And why exactly would you like to come with us?"

"I have recently decided to step up my schedule. To do that, I decided to help you. I'm here to… expedite the process of stealing their cargo."

Adam's nostrils flared. "This wasn't a part of the agreement. You stay to yours, I'll stay to mine. That was the deal. I deal with the White Fang, and I'll do what you ask, but I won't be able to explain why there's a human drug peddler tagging along with us."

Percy waived it off. "Fine, you don't want me messing up your main operation, then just give me enough people to do what I need to. A hundred in total. I'll even pay you for them."

Adam slammed his palms on the table, cracking the wood. Percy gave it an annoyed glance, making a mental note to have it replaced at some point.

"My people are not to be bought. Our deal is in place, but I won't let you lead my people away to slaughter for money."

Percy raised his arms placatingly. "Honestly, I'd be doing a lot of grumbling and intimidating about now, if I didn't respect you defending your people. I'm not taking them off to slaughter, and I'm not trying to buy them. I'm trying to hire them. And if I can, I'll return every one of them alive. What I do will be no more dangerous than what you would be doing on your own. I just want to get it done quicker."

Adam leaned back slowly, scowling. "...fine. Take a hundred. But I won't take payment for them — I won't sell my people."

Percy shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. I'll just pay them personally then. Give me your best or your worst, I couldn't care."

Adam huffed and stood up. "How long will you be?"

Percy reached up to scratch his ear. "Probably about two weeks is the longest I can afford. I'll mostly have them doing logistic work — stuff I can't do on my own. Just make sure I have a lot of pilots, and I'll be fine."

Adam turned and walked to the door, letting himself out. "I'll have them waiting by your bullhead pads in 2 hours. Don't lose any." and like that, he was gone.

Percy chuckled, shaking his head. Adam always did take the cake when it came to 'most socially inept criminal'.

"Is this everyone?" Percy asked, glancing around.

Around him lay a… pretty miserable group, if he were being honest. It was mostly women and who he would barely classify as not being children, usually in their teens. He supposed he wasn't one to talk, but it was still tough to see.

The bullhead docks looked like a refugee center, every one of them stood or sat around with their meager belongings — a sleeping bag, a spare change of clothes or two, and a backpack full of food and other necessities.

Percy looked around at the genuinely pitiful state of dress of most of them. They wore ill-fitting t-shirts, baggy pants, and sometimes a cloak or two. Very few of them were dressed for the weather of Atlas. He didn't need Hitler to tell him invading a cold country without snow gear was a bad idea.

One of the faunus walked up to him — the odd one out in the equation. He had a fully stocked, modern backpack with a winter coat, and two pistols holstered to each side of his waist. "They're all here. They're ready to go."

Percy raised an eyebrow, mockingly looking over the masses before him. "Really, they are ready to go to Atlas? I planned on having them back with all their toes intact."

The faunus shrugged. "These ones were going to stay in Mistral. Not all of us were going to Atlas, so some didn't need winter clothes."

Percy raised a mocking eyebrow at the faunus himself and the winter coat he had on. "And who are you?"

The faunus extended a begrudging hand. "I'm Perry. I was going to go with the Atlas team, but Adam asked me to go with you."

Percy shook his hand. "Ah, so he sent a spy to make sure I'm doing anything too reckless. Got it."

Perry didn't respond.

Percy scoffed, turning away from the crowd and pulling out his scroll, quickly pressing a number to speed dial.

"What's up?"

"Hey, how long do you think it would take to get a hundred pairs of winter clothing and survival gear to the bullhead docks."

Shiro sighed "I'm not even gonna ask. Some of it we can get from in Windpath, but most will have to be imported from Mistral, especially insulated tents. Maybe six hours."

Percy sighed. "Alright, that's fine. Thank you, Shiro."

Percy snapped his scroll shut and turned back to Perry. "I have winter supplies coming in, but it'll take a while to get here. We leave at…" he checked his scroll. "One. Tell everyone to get settled in, we'll be here for a while."

Perry nodded. Percy didn't want to think about what his citizens would think of all the faunus sitting at his bullhead docks for so long. He was sure rumors of him engaging in faunus trafficking would pop up soon. Well, he controlled the largest intelligence network in remnant. Time to make use of that, at least.

"Where exactly are we going again?"

Percy rolled his eyes, climbing to the cockpit of the bullhead and looking at the digital map they had there.

It would have been much more efficient to take a few boats — especially with him being able to control the sea, and all — but even with him boosting their speed, he'd just manage to turn the journey from a few weeks to a few days. Fast for a boat, sure, but he'd rather make use of every day he had.

"There," Percy pointed at a point on the map. "At the strait between Novopyl and Moltorp."

Sometimes it shocked him how unprofessional the white fang could be — and that was coming from him. The fact he'd had to remind them where they were going twice now didn't bode well for the outcome of the mission.

One of the pilots nodded, but the other scoffed. "Why are we going there, so far away from Atlas? We're here to strike back at these pigs."

Percy glowered at him for a moment, only satisfied when he was sufficiently cowed. "If we arrived right next to Atlas, they'd wipe us and our entire group out in a matter of a day or two, tops. This way, we can keep on the move without them being able to catch us in time."

Content he'd answered the pilot's question satisfactorily, he pulled back into the passenger area and waited 'patiently' for them to reach their destination.

If only it didn't take so gods-damned long.

'Luckily' (with a little effort on his part) there was calm weather when they arrived and though it was cold as all Hades, they were able to set up their camp in a small draw running off a nearby mountain to shelter them from the wind, or at least most of it. Luckily, he'd found some maps of the area (or rather, Shiro had) and had been able to prepare ahead of time.

As far as he was aware, the rest of the White Fang's forces in Atlas were stationed by a railroad a few hundred miles north of Mantle, whereas Percy's group was a couple hundred to the east. Adam's plan was to hit a rail, and then ditch it for another, and repeat the process so they'd have next to no chance of being caught.

Percy didn't have that luxury, being with so few people. So he stuck by the single rail line running the strait from the north-east. Lucky for him, he'd have as much traffic on this rail as the other white fang group would get between all of theirs. They were intercepting everything that came directly north, while his rail was a chokepoint for nearly a third the total dust transport on the continent.

Because of his unique talents he had no trouble believing he'd be able to take any train they came across himself, the only problem was actually taking prisoners and unloading the damned dust. He was sure he'd have to destroy a good bit of the stuff in order to keep the SDC's production low even with his hundred helpers, which was an unfortunate necessity.

Percy stretched as he finished setting up his tent. If any of the survival courses at camp had taught him anything, it was how to set up a tent quickly.

By contrast most of the faunus were struggling with theirs, half weren't even barely started. Pulling a cowl he'd brought along up on his face (both as a form of protection against the incredibly cold weather as well as a way to conceal his identity.) Percy set off into the snow to help his men set up their tents before they froze to death.

Luckily before night fell, he'd managed to help the struggling faunus (faunuses, fauni?) set up their tents, and then had set up some emergency fires around the campsite to keep everyone warm until they hit the sack.

Percy himself sat around a fire with a few of the leaders of the white fang here. Perry joined him, as well as a couple others who were seen as elders among those here. Unfortunately because they were seen as elder, they tended to be elder, all 3 of those around him being at least the age of 60 or above.

Despite that, they all wore white fang masks on their face, whether out of habit or to conceal their identities from him he wasn't sure, but he didn't much care.

"Boy." one of them spoke, and Percy looked up. "Why do you not wear the mask of the White Fang?" he asked, as if reading Percy's mind.

Percy picked up a nearby stick he'd picked off a tree and prodded the fire, causing a log to collapse and flames to begin to roar into the air for a moment before settling down.

"Because I'm not exactly a member of the White Fang. I'm here because our interests align. Not because I want to join you."

The old man who'd asked him the question let out a gravelly cough into his fist, and shook his head slowly. "That won't do. Our people only respect those who take up the cause. Even if it is only for the time we're out here, the people need to know you're one of us — that you are White Fang. Otherwise, they won't follow you."

Percy snorted, continuing to prod the flames. "Then I'll make sure to pass on my orders through Perry." he said. Said faunus continued to stare down at his hands bathed in the soft glow of the campfire, for all intents and purposes ignoring the conversation.

The old man scoffed, muttering about youth. Another one — the youngest one of the three elders, probably around retirement age back on earth — decided that wasn't good enough. He took off his mask, and held it out to Percy, allowing Percy to see his entire face.

"Here, boy. Wear it. It's clear you wish to conceal your identity — whomever you may be — and that cowl does a horrible job. Perhaps with the mask and cowl both you could escape from here unrecognized."

Percy stared at the mask for a long moment. The mask itself was more unique than most — likely a symbol of seniority or leadership. Red markings covered its front, and it was smaller than most masks, only coming down just over the nose and covering the upper face. It was clearly more symbolic than functional. "Then why don't you wear the mask. It's to protect your identity too, right?"

The man laughed, a large, booming laugh which drew attention from several nearby fires. "Boy, my identity has been compromised for many years now. If any government cared enough to hunt me down I'd be dead by now. And the people know my face — they know of my faith to the cause. So take the mask. Conceal your identity, and allow yourself to lead as a respected leader, instead of an outsider."

Percy hesitated for several more seconds, but took the mask, and slipped it over his head. The thing was surprisingly comfortable for how it looked, if a bit cold. He was also surprised to find he could see quite a bit with it. He still didn't like how the very top and bottom of his vision was cut off, but as long as he wasn't in a fight for his life it would do.

The elder that had spoken first nodded. "Now, you look like a true warrior. And it certainly helps in concealing your identity."

Percy reached up to touch the mask lightly, realizing that between the cowl he had up over his nose and the white fang mask that covered everything down to his nose, his face was entirely concealed. He shrugged, it would help with concealing his identity, even if he planned to ditch the thing as soon as the mission was over.

Percy nodded his thanks and reached into his back pocket, pulling out an old map. Standing up briefly, he pulled a large log from a few feet away towards the center of the circle, laying the map out flat on it so it would be illuminated by the flames. Deciding it wasn't quite bright enough for him, he pulled out his maglight and shined it on the map.

Tapping the map, Percy laid his finger over a draw coming off the side of a mountain, which was tucked in a corner to the side of the map. "We're here," he slid his finger about ten squares away towards the bottom of the map, nearly the opposite side. "And the main rail we'll be attacking will be here. About ten kilometers away."

Perry grunted. "We'll be burning a lot of fuel flying there and back every time there's a train car, which as far as I'm aware will be several times a day. We can't stay there, I'm sure the Atlas military will send a patrol at some point."

Percy shook his head. "We won't be taking the bullheads. The bullheads will be taking the dust back to Mistral. We'll be getting there and back on foot." He pointed at another section of the map. "There's a system of caves less than a kilometer away from the tracks we can use to hide if we get wind Atlas is coming in force. Besides, most of the people here won't need to make the trek every day. Most of you are here to help run logistics — load and unload the bullheads, and fly them back and forth. We have about 2 dozen bullheads for a hundred people, so with a pilot and co-pilot that's already half of you gone at a time. The rest will just drag dust back to camp and help load it onto bullheads when they arrive."

Perry grunted. "So if you can take an entire SDC train with a handful of people and yourself, — which is a big if — how will we know when Atlas is coming? We don't have any radar detectors or anything out here. I can't even get enough scroll signal to send a message with the nearest CCT being so far away."

That wasn't entirely true. Atlas had some emergency military communicators out here in the mountains. It was only for military, though, as it was much smaller and couldn't take as much traffic. But, lo and behold the Malachites had someone on the inside to get his scroll whitelisted. So, he could make all the calls he wanted out here.

"Leave that to me, I have a good intel team, and they have ways of reaching me out here. Our real problem is that we'll have to destroy as much as we take — probably more."

Perry snorted, and while the elders around the campfire were dignified enough not to roll their eyes, Percy could tell they didn't quite believe him.

"We have, as you said, about two dozen bullheads, making runs from here to Mistral once a day. For you to have them not only full, but overflowing, you'd need to stop every train that runs through these rails, and then clear the tracks in time for the next one. Maybe one train would fill up most of our bullheads, but are you really convinced you can take down more than one of these things every day?"

Percy shrugged. "Why not? These things barely have security, right?"

Perry grunted. "I'd hardly call it 'barely' any security. But yes, their security team is lightly armed at best. Usually just with some batons or a couple pistols."

Percy nodded. "Okay, so the only hard part will be carrying the stuff back and forth consistently. That'll be up to you three." Percy glanced at the three old faunus. "You three are respected by these people, and have the experience to make this work. You guys can be in charge of organizing them into teams to get this stuff back to camp as soon as possible, or even just have the bullheads pick it up in the middle of a field. Perry, you'll be in charge of those helping me board the trains. Whoever you think has the most combat experience, you'll be leading them onto the trains with me."

Percy looked around the fire for a moment, seeing the elders and Perry all nodding. Percy looked back down at the map. "If that's all, let's have everybody awake in…" Percy checked his scroll. "Eight hours." Folding the map back up, Percy stuffed it in his pocket and rose to head to his tent when he was interrupted.

"Wait." Perry called to his back. "What do you get from all of this? What's your gain? I know you're just in this for the profit, so why steal so much dust you have to destroy some? That doesn't help you."

Percy turned partially towards the fire and raised an eyebrow, though Perry couldn't see it through his mask. "What makes you think my goal has been profit? It's a nice side benefit, but it's hardly my end goal." And with that cryptic message, Percy bid them farewell, heading back to his tent for a very, very cold sleep.

The walk the next morning was a pain. It was only made harder by the fact he had to — for the first day at least — bring almost everyone with him. It took them twice as long as he'd hoped to get to the tracks, and by the time they arrived they missed the first train.

There was hardly much vegetation up here for cover, just long, flat snow. So he had everyone that wasn't hopping on the train with him a bit further down the tracks, waiting until they stopped the train. Speaking of which…

"How exactly are we going to stop the train? We didn't bring explosives for the track."

Percy glanced to his right at Perry. They had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes, waiting for the next train which would be getting there in roughly another half hour.

Initially his plan was just going to be to use the snow to stop the train — easy enough. But that would mean making Perry — and the white fang as a whole — aware he could not only control water, but to some extent snow as well. He wasn't distrustful of the white fang per se, but they were also hardly loyal. It'd be handy to have an ace up his sleeve in the middle of the wilderness here if things went south.

So, considering he didn't want to use the snow, he had to improvise.

Percy hummed. "I would say we could remove some track, but then they'd just stop sending trains. How do you feel about hopping on?"

Perry snorted. "Hopping on a high speed rail, far from any civilization? That thing's gotta be going a few hundred miles an hour at least. We'd die."

Percy shrugged. "How about I hop on then. I'll use the emergency breaks to stop the train as soon as I can, and you guys can hop on. I'll just need to move a kilometer or so that way." Percy pointed to the direction the train would be coming from — away from Mantle.

Perry grunted. "Your funeral. Just so you know, when you die we're using dust to blow up the tracks."

Percy stood up and brushed some snow off of him. "Go for it. I'll see you when the train comes halting next to you."

Perry just rolled his eyes, and Percy walked off.

Not ten minutes after he'd gotten settled in a kilometer east, he felt the train before he saw it. The vibrations it sent through the earth were easily recognizable, and Percy stood to prepare himself. As he noted the train speeding in the distance he reconsidered his plan. That thing was moving fast. In fact, now that he was this far away from the others he might even be able to get away with subtly stopping the thing with snow — or at least slowing it enough to hop on. But they could still see him, it wasn't a risk he'd take when he could just hop on the thing. With his demigod versatility and his aura both, he was confident he could be hit with the train head on and probably survive. It just wouldn't feel good.

Pulling his cowl up a little further over his nose and stretching his shoulders, he prepared to hop on the train, getting into a position where he could jump on rather easily. He was sure the train could see him by now, but it made no move to stop, just speeding on through. Percy raised an arm to protect him from the wind as the front of the train buffeted past, causing wind and snow to whip up around him. Looking as much as he could to the left he spotted a train car with a small railing to stand on, and a door handle to hold onto. Well, no time like the present.

Making sure his timing was alright he leaped for the train car, reaching his hands out to the bar on the side of the train car. Grunting, Percy slammed into the handle at a few hundred miles an hour, the combination of his aura and his demigod physiology being the only thing that allowed him to hold on. As it was the door seemed to be a bit weaker than him because as soon as Percy latched onto the handle, it immediately broke open.

Percy winced as he was sent flying with the momentum of the train and the wind rushing past, going completely horizontal and only staying attached to the train by virtue of having a good grip. Two crates right at the entrance flew out of the car, tumbling directly over him and falling onto the snow.

Grunting, Percy reached a hand over the edge of the door into the train car, slowly pulling himself into it. As soon as he was inside he dropped, grunting as his side impacted a wooden crate that was stacked under him.

Regathering his wits, he attempted to shut the side of the train for about two seconds before considering it a lost cause. Huffing, he put his cowl back over the lower half of his face, and got back up on all fours, looking up to the exit of the train car. There was only one problem. There was about two dozen boxes stacked on top of one another blocking the way between them. Even if he crawled he couldn't make it all the way through the small gaps to the walkway between the two veritable walls of boxes.

Percy's eyes widened as he saw the markings on each one.

Danger! Explosive! Handle with care!

The SDC didn't really deal in weapons — scratch that, they definitely didn't deal in weapons. Which meant every crate here was likely filled to the brim with... dust.

"Gods…" Percy muttered. This was one of dozens of train cars, and it was packed to the absolute brim with dust. This was more than he thought existed in all of Atlas, and it was one of several trains heading to the city every day.

Percy shook himself out of his reverie. If it was this valuable that just meant he needed to focus more than ever on stopping this train.

Wincing, he slid his hands between the small gaps on either side of the nearest box and pulled it free. Unfortunately there wasn't nearly enough space to actually shift it in the car so that he could actually crawl through the gap it made, so with a curse he shoved it out of the train car and into the snow. It was a lot of dust to just throw away, but it was a paltry amount compared to how much he stood to gain from this one train alone.

Clenching his shoulders together he crawled through the small gap and unceremoniously fell to the hard metal floor. On either side of him stood walls of the crates, every one of them marked with the same bright, red text.

Dusting himself off, he stood up and shook his head. He had to focus. The front of the train was closer than the back, so that meant he had to head to the right.

Walking to the end of the train car he unlatched and yanked the doors between them open, bracing himself for the buffeting wind. Stepping to the next car with one foot, he opened the next door and walked into the adjacent car, which was also filled to the absolute brim with dust.

Ignoring it, he repeated the process half a dozen times as quickly as he could until he reached the front car. Unlike the other cars, the front's door was latched shut, locked from the inside. Without hesitation he took the cap off Riptide and sliced just left of the handle to the door, where he'd assume the lock was. He grabbed the handle and yanked, the metal door giving way with a harsh squeal.

Two wide-eyed employees wearing what he assumed was a standardized SDC uniform stood on the other side of the door. Ignoring them for the moment he found the big red lever, walked up to it, and pulled.

He braced himself against the roof of the train as it came to a screeching halt. The other two were less prepared, but managed to find purchase on some equipment to stop themselves from flying out the window.

The moment the train ground to a halt Percy raised Riptide to one of their throats, and grabbed the neck of the other one.

"I'd recommend you put your hands on your head, and get out of the car."

With wide eyes and pale faces they both complied, putting their hands on their head and clumsily hopping out of the back of the car into the snow.

Percy hopped out next to them and swung his sword casually through the air, waiting for the rest of his boarding party to catch up. He could see them in the distance as tiny black specks, but they still had a few hundred meters to trek before reaching the end of the train. The workers sat in the snow nervously with their hands still on their heads. Percy tried to keep his swinging sword away from them — you know, so they wouldn't be nervous.

A few minutes later he saw the small figures that consisted of his boarding team reach the caboose and enter, grabbing those inside and throwing them out into the snow. Percy winced as one of them tumbled down the incline leading up to the train tracks.

He waited as patiently as he could for them to catch up to him, but eventually decided it just wasn't worth it to sit here waiting when he could be moving.

Percy jerked his head towards the other group. "Get up and start walking towards the end of the train."

They nervously complied without a word, standing up shakily and making their way to the back with their hands on their heads. At least they were quiet, he'd seen in popular media that some of them could start begging for their lives and whatnot. That would be annoying, and it'd make him feel a bit bad.

They met about halfway down the train, the White Fang with their ziptied prisoners being dragged along, and Percy with his two leading the way.

Percy gestured to an area just to the side of the train, and the prisoners all kneeled down in the area, facing the train. "So," Percy began. "No resistance I take it?"

Perry shook his head. "One of these guys had a pistol, but he gave it up as soon as we entered the car."

Percy nodded "Is this everyone, then? Is there anyone else on this train?"

One of the prisoners Percy had taken shook his head rapidly. "No sir, this is everyone."

Percy nodded. "Alright then. The rest of them should be here in a few minutes with the sleds, so just help me start unloading for now."

Perry nodded. "Got it. Let's just deal with the prisoners first so we don't have to have someone watching them here." Perry raised his rifle and clicked off the safety.

The prisoners looked understandably squeamish at the prospect, and about two seconds away from screaming in terror. Even the other White Fang agents that had come along looked pretty uncomfortable with executing unarmed prisoners.

Percy scowled, grabbing his rifle and forcing the barrel to the ground. "I may have reasons to fight the SDC, but that doesn't mean I want to execute all of their employees. We're leaving them alive."

Perry scowled back. "Then what? Do you plan on providing for them with our rations? Spending personnel and tents and supplies just to keep them alive and secure?"

Percy snorted. "Of course not. We're gonna put them back on the train and send them home."

"And how exactly do you plan to stop them from immediately telling the SDC about this?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't, actually. Why does it make a difference? They'll know something happened to their train anyway and send someone out to look. It'll be obvious it was robbed. Besides, how exactly did you think we would get the train off the tracks? The easiest way is just to let it head to Mantle."

Perry growled under his breath and tore the barrel of his gun from Percy's grasp, turning to stalk away, muttering under his breath.

Percy just shook his head and walked to the nearest train car. They had a lot to unload. Might as well get started.

They made away with 20 bullheads full of dust that day, all of them filled to the brim. To avoid anyone drawing any connections Percy didn't want them to, the bullheads landed in Mistral, where the MTC was headquartered. Using a tiny bit of Alex's influence, the packages were kept discrete and quickly moved to warehouses across the city, mostly at the lower levels for the cheap labor and storage.

Then, they were outsourced to quickly opening stores all around the city and sold for below market prices. He'd gotten a text from Shiro the next day that the dust was gone the literal hour the shops had opened.

They hit two more trains that day, stealing as much dust as they could. But because the vast majority of it would never be able to fit on their bullheads (even if he doubled how many he was sending) he had them drag most of it to the middle of a field to the east, and set it on fire.

It was one of the coolest explosions he'd ever seen, and he'd seen quite a few.

The rest of the next couple weeks played out similarly. They trekked out early in the morning — though usually with far fewer people than the first day — and boarded a train. They took as much dust as they could hold from the first train, blew up the rest, and then burned the remainder from the rest of the day. Of course the Atlas military came some days. On those days they just stayed in camp, huddled in their white tents, and hid. The SDC even started sending a few security guards along with some trains. None of them had had any success defending their train.

He was falling into a routine by the time it came time for him to return to Windpath. He almost wanted to push it and stay for a few more days, but even being out here as long as he had been was risking the SDC hiring a team of huntsmen to come knock some heads together.

As it was, he was content to hop on a bullhead back to Windpath. The rest of the White Fang would be following later that day but for now, he was on his own.

But before he actually arrived in Windpath, he had a stop to make. Percy stepped off the bullhead docks and after a short walk, he was in front of a large building, cylindrical in shape, which reached up to the sky. He had to admit it was quite impressive, if not quite up to the prestige of Beacon's campus. It was almost insulting in an ironic way, that most of the people back in Windpath and especially Mistral lived in squalor while up here they could make such opulent buildings.

Well, he couldn't blame them for being rich. They were just looking out for themselves, he couldn't really judge. Shrugging mentally, Percy strolled into the building, glancing around.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Percy blinked, turning to face a woman who had seemingly appeared a couple feet to his right, standing attentively. "Uhh, yeah. I'm looking for a class. I wanted to spectate, if that's alright."

The lady nodded. "Are you a relative of one of our students?"

Percy scratched the back of his head. "Uh, something like that yeah."

Said mystery lady pulled out a small clipboard, holding it out to him with a pen. "Would you mind signing in, please?"

Percy took the pen and paper and quickly filled out the short form. It was a bit hard considering his dyslexia and everything, but eventually he managed.

The lady pointed to a doorway further in the hall and on the right. "The first years are in the courtyard right now. If you go through that door and follow the stairs up you can spectate from the viewing balcony."

Percy nodded his thanks and stepped off, quickly reaching the balcony as she'd told him. Percy looked down over the field, observing the class of 30-odd kids sitting cross-legged on some grass. In front of them an instructor was lecturing them, something about dodging if his odd movements were any indication. Percy continued to observe the group of adolescents as they broke out into groups and began practicing dodging each other's attacks. Percy smiled slightly when he saw that Pyrrha was doing it with an obstinate level of boredom, and doing a bad job of concealing it.

Percy shook his head slightly, chuckling to himself and vaulting over the railing. He was sure he was breaking a rule or two, but he couldn't much bring himself to care.

The instructor saw him and quickly walked towards him, a confused look on his face. "Can I help you with something, sir?"

Percy nodded towards Pyrrha. "I'm here visiting Pyrrha, she's a… niece of mine. I was just in the area and wanted to pop in and say hi, if I could have a moment of her time."

The teacher suddenly straightened his posture. As supposedly impervious as Argus was to bribery and blatant corruption, such significant wealth and power still meant something. Especially in Mistral.

"Well sir, you have to understand then I can't just let you see her without confirmation of your identity. Do you have a—"

"Percy!" The teacher was cut off by Pyrrha catching sight of him and promptly abandoning her partner, dropping her practice sword and bolting at him. He braced himself and let her tackle his torso, taking her full body mass into his abdomen at about twenty miles an hour with a grunt. Percy raised an eyebrow at the teacher and he just nodded, walking away.

Percy pulled Pyrrha further away from the other students, the majority of which were now staring at them. Percy vaguely heard the instructor chewing them out to get back to their lessons when he turned his attention to Pyrrha. "Percy! It's been so long!"

Percy chuckled. "Pyrrha, it hasn't even been a month yet. You seem to have survived."

Pyrrha huffed. "I'm not sure about that one. I feel like I'm dead sometimes, with how… easy everything is here. It's basic. My instructors are teaching me things that are far too elementary, and I can't even make friends! Everyone just looks at me like this larger than life figure, all because of my last name." she hissed. Percy frowned, glancing over the crowd of students. He couldn't say he knew entirely how that felt, but he liked to think he could empathise a little bit with being a child of the big three and all. But even then, his status hadn't entirely isolated him, just made him a target. He wasn't sure he could quite imagine what it would be like to be in social exile because of your parents.

"Have you spoken to your instructors about upping your training?" Percy decided to stick to the topic he knew a bit about.

Pyrrha crossed her arms. "Yes, but they keep saying 'it's important to iron out the basics before moving on'"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "You… have the basics down."

Pyrrha remained silent, which was an answer in and of itself.

"Well, I'm sure they'll let you progress eventually, right? You just need to be patient."

Pyrrha pursed her lips. "Eventually, but I feel like I'm losing the advantage you gave me. Every day I let pass without progressing is another day everyone else gains on me. I don't mean to put anyone down, but… I don't want to waste time like this."

Percy hummed. "I understand. I'll see about speaking to this instructor of yours."

Pyrrha looked up at him with wide eyes. "And can you pull me out of Sanctum?"

Percy chuckled and rubbed her head. "No, it's still best if you stay here Pyr. Even if you really don't think you can make friends, it's not healthy for someone your age to be completely separated from people your own age. Ask the teachers if you can take some advanced lessons or something, but you need to stay here Pyyrha."

Pyrrha nodded, glancing at the ground. "Will you… how long are you staying?"

Percy sighed, letting his hand fall from her head. "Only a few minutes I'm afraid. Sorry, but I just wanted to come say hi on my way back to Windpath. Take care Pyrrha."

Pyrrha swallowed, but nodded. Percy grinned and wrapped an arm around her. "Now, don't wear such a long face. I'll be back, and next time I visit I'll try and spar with you. Deal?"

Pyrrha nodded slightly, and smiled. He had to constantly remind himself how young she really was, with how mature she could act at times. But she was still a thirteen year old.

"Alright Pyr, I need to go now. Kick some butt for me, alright?" he said, holding a fist out.

Pyrrha grinned and nodded, hitting his fist with her own. Percy patted her head one last time and leapt up back onto the balcony, pulling himself over the railing.

On the walk back to the bullhead, he just had to keep wondering if Sanctum was the right choice for her. She wasn't ready for it, per se, but allowing her to go on an apprenticeship with a huntsman would help her develop well and above her peers. The only problem was the danger of the whole thing, Percy would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to her.

Percy was pulled from his thoughts as he neared his bullhead and climbed into it, for the ride back to Windpath. That was a problem for another time. Now, he just had to worry about his meeting with the Schnees.

There ya go. New chapter. Imma be workin hard to try and be a chapter ahead every month so I can post my next ones on pat reon, goddamn have I been lettin those guys down.

If you wanna join a cool discord with me, lildrummerboi, const3llations, greed720, and a bunch more, go ahead and check my profile. We have betas willing to help with projects, authors willing to give advice, and new authors looking for advice. It's also a great way to be discovered, with our 400-odd members having a chance to look at your stories every time you update them.

Also my pat reon is on my profile if you feel like supporting me, and being able to view some chapters early.

Have a good time, and see ya'll in discord.

Next chapter July 1.