Atlas Military High Command Center
James Ironwood—General of the Atlas Military, Headmaster of Atlas Academy, and holder of two seats on the Atlas Governing Council—stood silently inside his briefing room overlooking the frozen tundra of Solitas.
Beyond the massive reinforced windows, Atlas hovered proudly above the harsh wasteland below.
Air fleets patrolled the skies in disciplined formations while Schnee Dust Company cargo ships departed from nearby airfields, carrying Dust shipments across Remnant.
Technological marvels.
Three decades of military advancement floating above a kingdom built on ice, steel, and sacrifice.
Still…
James frowned slightly.
The Schnee Dust Company held too much influence over both Atlas and Mantle.
Especially Mantle.
Too many citizens depended on the company for work, housing, supplies—even survival itself. Entire districts functioned around Schnee operations and subsidiaries.
Worse, the company had a long history of undercutting competitors until smaller businesses collapsed entirely.
Unfortunately, his hands were tied.
Dust was too valuable.
Too necessary.
The military relied on it.
Huntsmen relied on it.
Modern society itself relied on it.
And because the Schnee Dust Company supplied the most affordable Dust in Remnant, challenging their monopoly risked hurting the people more than helping them.
James exhaled slowly.
Then his thoughts shifted elsewhere.
To Huntsmen.
More specifically—
The Red Huntsman.
For six years, the mysterious warrior had protected settlements across Remnant more effectively than entire standing armies.
Including his own.
That truth stung more than James cared to admit.
Atlas possessed the most advanced military force in the world.
And yet one young Huntsman had become a greater symbol of safety than fleets, soldiers, or machines ever had.
William Heart.
A child, from the looks of the footage spreading across the Scroll Network.
A hero to people who felt abandoned by the kingdoms.
A painful reminder that no matter how large a military became—
It still couldn't be everywhere at once.
Which raised an uncomfortable possibility.
Perhaps overwhelming numbers weren't the answer.
Perhaps true strength came from quality instead.
But reaching that level should have been impossible.
James knew Huntsmen limitations better than most.
He trained them.
Observed them.
Measured them.
And from everything he had seen—
William had exceeded every known limit.
"They are here, General."
Winter's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
James turned slightly.
"Thank you, Winter."
Winter Schnee stood near the doorway with her usual composed posture, pale blue eyes calm and focused beneath the sterile lighting of the command center.
Her white military coat contrasted sharply against Atlas' dark steel walls while the red brooch near her collar added the only warmth to her otherwise disciplined appearance.
Behind her, Atlas High Command entered the room.
A dozen senior officers took their seats around the long briefing table while battlefield footage from Grayridge looped silently above them.
No one spoke immediately.
They had all witnessed Grimm attacks before.
They had all seen exceptional Huntsmen.
But this…
This was something else entirely.
The storm splitting apart under raw impact pressure.
The forest flattened in a single shockwave.
The Ape-class Grimm erased instantly by one final strike.
Brigadier General John Rivers finally broke the silence.
The older officer adjusted his red tie slightly before speaking.
"…What endurance," he muttered. "Most Huntsmen would have retreated… or died."
Winter's gaze remained fixed on the projection.
"You're correct," she said calmly. "No Huntsman alive should be capable of matching an evolved Grimm blow-for-blow for that length of time."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as the footage replayed again.
"Especially not while already suffering severe aura depletion."
John glanced toward her with mild curiosity.
"What a remarkable young man," he admitted. "Don't you agree, Miss Schnee? In some ways, he reminds me of you."
A faint silence followed.
Winter leaned forward slightly.
"I believe," she said carefully, "he is forcing us to reconsider what may actually be possible for Huntsmen and Huntresses."
A pause.
"Still… not even Atlas combat simulations support this level of sustained combat output from a lone individual."
Major General David Blade of Military Intelligence folded his arms.
"So what exactly are you implying?"
Winter replayed the final strike again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"…I'm saying that wasn't someone using aura efficiently."
David raised an eyebrow.
Winter's expression hardened slightly.
"That was someone treating aura as though it had no upper limit."
Silence settled across the room.
Several officers exchanged uneasy glances.
Major General Severin Bayonet of the Android Forces Division spoke next.
"Regardless, his actions have provided us valuable operational time. Grimm pressure across several frontier sectors has already decreased, allowing us to continue restructuring our Expeditionary Forces from manned deployments toward automated units."
Near the far end of the table a officer activated a secondary projection.
Several maps of Vale's outer territories appeared above the conference table.
Highlighted zones flickered across the holographic display.
Some red.
Some yellow.
Some slowly changing color entirely.
Lieutenant Colonel Elias Ward adjusted his glasses before speaking.
"General," he began, "we've completed analysis on Grimm activity surrounding confirmed Red Huntsman sightings over the past six years."
James looked toward the display.
"Go on."
Elias nodded once before expanding the map.
"Multiple frontier settlements report declining Grimm activity following confirmed sightings of the Red Huntsman nearby."
The room quieted.
Trade routes appeared across the projection.
Several previously abandoned supply lines were now open.
"Areas once considered high-risk are stabilizing," Elias continued. "Some settlements have even resumed commercial transport operations after years of isolation , they are reporting Grimm attack frequencies are in decline with fewer civilian evacuation rates and a more positive outlook on the future knowing his there and that is only Atlas."
Winter's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…That correlation shouldn't be possible."
Elias gave a small uncomfortable nod.
"We thought the same initially, Commander Schnee."
" So we widen our search to the rest of the kingdoms."Elias spoke ." We went over interviews, news and scroll activity related to the red Huntsman there was a mark improvement in the mental state of everyone who saw him flying over , all repeating the same thing and I quote : we feel safe knowing his watching from above ."
The room remained silent as he continued.
"Communities with repeated Red Huntsman sightings are showing measurable decreases in panic-related Grimm incidents."
That statement lingered heavily across the room.
Because everyone present understood exactly what it implied.
Fear attracted Grimm.
Panic strengthened them.
Despair fed them.
And somehow—
Wherever the Red Huntsman appeared…
People stopped being afraid.
Brigadier General of Planning Erich quietly spoke up.
"Children in several settlements reportedly sleep easier after sightings of his patrol routes , hell may own kid feels better after watching him on her scroll."
More reports surfaced across the screen.
Some settlements had begun informally tracking William's appearances simply because civilian morale improved when he was nearby.
One Mistral news article appeared briefly across the projection.
THE HUNTSMAN WHO CHASES AWAY FEAR
Another report from Vale's medical community followed immediately after.
"A kingdom-wide reduction in anxiety through symbolic reassurance."
Several Atlas officers exchanged uneasy looks.
Severin finally muttered:
"…That's impossible."
"Psychologically?" Winter asked quietly.
"No," the officer replied.
He looked toward the image of William clearing the storm above Grayridge.
"Tactically."
Silence followed.
Because military doctrine relied on containment.
Defense.
Deterrence.
But William was accomplishing something armies fundamentally struggled to achieve.
He wasn't merely fighting Grimm.
He was reducing the fear that created them in the first place.
James stared silently at the reports.
Trade routes reopening.
Frontier stabilization.
Civilian morale increases.
A single Huntsman influencing entire regions simply by existing.
Slowly, he folded his hands together.
"…Remarkable," he admitted quietly.
Not because of William's strength.
But because of what that strength inspired.
James nodded once.
"Yes," he agreed calmly. "And for that, we owe him our gratitude."
He sat at the head of the table.
"But now that his identity is public knowledge, ensuring his safety becomes significantly more complicated."
A brief silence followed.
Lieutenant General Ace Spade finally spoke.
"That is precisely my concern, sir. Everything we know about William Heart suggests he possesses an extreme self-sacrificial tendency."
Tyler Reek, Major General of Logistics, leaned back slightly.
"Then perhaps we should offer him enrollment at Atlas Academy."
Several officers considered the idea immediately.
But Major General Hans Drake shook his head.
"That may not be wise."
The room turned toward him.
"From what little we know, William consistently disregards tactical planning in favor of civilian protection." Hans folded his hands together carefully. "Admirable, certainly. But war occasionally demands sacrifice."
Winter's expression cooled slightly at that statement.
Hans continued.
"Until we understand him better, inviting someone with that level of power into Atlas directly could create more complications than solutions."
Several officers nodded slowly.
James remained quiet.
Then Lieutenant General Kurt of Cyber Communications spoke.
"We could always extend an invitation later."
He glanced toward Winter briefly.
"Especially since Beacon appears interested in recruiting him first."
A faint smirk crossed Severin's face.
"Speaking of Beacon… I believe your younger sister will be attending this year, Commander Schnee."
" Oh, baby Wiess is seventeen already , uhh they grow up so fast don't you agree Commander." Kurt spoke his eyes gleaming with mirth
Winter's eyes immediately narrowed.
"My sister is not relevant to this discussion, General."
" Oh, our dear Winter is protective today,"
Severin chuckled lightly
"Enough," James interrupted calmly, though a small smile briefly crossed his face.
The room settled again.
James looked back toward the frozen image of William standing beneath the cleared night sky.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Still standing.
Still protecting others.
"…For now," James said quietly, "we will leave William Heart to Ozpin."
He rose from his chair.
"With any luck, Beacon may succeed where the rest of us failed."
The officers looked toward him.
James' expression hardened slightly.
"Helping him before he destroys himself trying to save everyone else."
Silence filled the room.
Then:
"This meeting is adjourned."
XXX
Meanwhile
William was sitting at the kitchen table staring at his scroll like it had personally betrayed him with his grandpa sitting in front of the tv. Social media was flooding with posts about what happened at the café.
"HE ASKED FOR HER NAME TOO 😭"
"William Heart is actually real??"
"BRO DESTROYED A STORM WITH ONE PUNCH."
"THE RED HUNTSMAN IS HOT???"
"That café girl is literally the luckiest person alive."
Eric glanced over.
"You're trending again."
"Looks like it," William muttered. "People sure are overreacting about knowing my identity. The people of Menagerie didn't act like this when they saw my face."
Eric raised an eyebrow slightly.
"When was this?"
"Remember my second-degree burns on my back and how I was hooked on painkillers when I got home?" William asked.
"Yes," Eric replied. "And I'm assuming the Faunus treated your wounds as best they could, because when you returned I had to redress everything myself and give you the strongest painkillers I had."
A pause followed.
"How did you get those burns anyway?" Eric finally asked.
William leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Well… I was fighting this bird Grimm that could breathe fire, and I saw this girl nearby who wouldn't have gotten away in time." He shrugged casually. "So my body just moved on its own to protect her. I used myself as a shield to keep her safe."
Silence settled across the kitchen for a moment.
William's scroll buzzed, breaking the silence.
He lifted it slightly and instantly regret it.
TRENDING: RED HUNTSMAN
"…Wow," William muttered as dozens of images flooded his screen.
Pictures of him in dramatic poses.
Halos above his head.
Wings made of light.
One image literally had him descending from the heavens.
William stared.
"…I've never done any of these poses."
Eric sipped his coffee.
"Artistic interpretation, kid. People show respect, admiration, and support the only way they know how."
William continued scrolling.
More artwork.
More edits.
More exaggerated depictions of him.
Then he stopped.
A stylized image showed him standing at the center of a ruined battlefield beneath a crimson sky, coat flowing behind him like a banner.
The caption beneath it read:
THE RED HUNTSMAN — REMNANT'S SYMBOL OF HOPE
William went quiet.
For a moment, he simply stared at the screen before finally asking the question that had been sitting in the back of his mind since all of this started.
"…Is this really how people see me, Grandpa?"
Eric glanced toward him silently.
For a second, he didn't know how to answer.
Because the truth was complicated.
William had changed people's lives.
Entire settlements slept easier because they believed the Red Huntsman might appear if things became desperate enough.
Children pretended to be him.
People prayed for him to arrive during Grimm attacks.
Some had started believing he was invincible.
And that terrified Eric more than he could ever admit.
"Unfortunately…" Eric began quietly before stopping himself.
A long pause followed.
Then he sighed softly.
"…But I understand why they see you that way."
William remained silent.
Eric looked toward the image on the scroll again.
"…And someday, hopefully soon" he said gently, "maybe you will too."
William didn't answer.
He just stared at it longer than he should have , trying to understand what his grandpa was saying about these pictures and how people were reacting.
Then quietly
"…I don't understand them. But for now, I don't have to."
William leaned back slightly, a small grin forming.
"All I want to do is be a Huntsman—to help people. And if they want to talk to me, I just have to learn how to talk back. That's all."
"For now, that will do."
Eric smiled immediately, surprised at his growth. Normally, William would have ignored what was happening entirely and focused solely on being a Huntsman.
William stood up.
"…Will time fir some fresh air."
Eric didn't look away from the screen.
"You're still recovering boy , don't push your luck."
"…I won't."
William left soon after, already knowing it was probably a bad idea to test his grandfather's patience with everything going on.
Stepping outside, he quietly closed the door behind him before immediately noticing the stunned looks from several nearby neighbors.
A long silence followed.
One person slowly raised their scroll.
William paused for a moment, wondering what he should do.
Then he settled on something simple.
Something small.
He raised his hand with an awkward smile and gave a thumbs-up toward the neighbor waiting nervously for a picture.
The person froze instantly, shock written across their face as the scroll camera flashed.
"Stay safe," William said gently before crouching slightly.
Then
BOOM.
The street trembled softly beneath him as he launched himself into the evening sky, blue aura trailing behind him while he soared above Vale's glowing skyline.
The city stretched endlessly below.
Towering buildings illuminated the darkening horizon while streams of traffic flowed through the streets like rivers of light. Airships drifted peacefully between the upper districts as evening settled across the kingdom.
For the first time all day
Things were quiet.
No cameras.
No crowds.
No reporters.
Just the wind against his face and the open sky above him.
Eventually, William landed atop his favorite rooftop near the edge of the city.
The old building overlooked nearly all of Vale.
He used to come here often after patrols.
Back before people knew his face.
William slowly sat near the ledge, resting his arms across his knees as he stared out across the kingdom below.
Lights flickered throughout the streets beneath him while distant conversations and evening traffic blended together into a strangely comforting hum.
Far above, stars stretched across the night sky unobstructed by storm clouds for once.
William exhaled softly.
"…Still a great view."
For a little while
He simply sat there listening to the city breathe.
The cool wind tugged gently at his clothes while the city lights reflected faintly in his eyes.
Then his gaze lowered toward his hands.
"…The Red Huntsman."
It still didn't feel real.
Not the way people said it.
Not the way the world repeated it.
He stared quietly at his palms for a moment.
The same hands that protected people.
The same hands capable of destroying entire battlefields.
And now
Hands the world finally recognized.
A faint uncertainty crossed his face.
"…What would you do, Mom… Dad?"
The night remained silent around him
XXX
Beacon Academy
Glynda Goodwitch stared at the towering stack of applications covering her desk in silence.
It looked like another all-nighter for her and the academy staff.
Again.
The soft ticking of the office clock echoed faintly through the room while the lights of Vale shimmered beyond Beacon Tower's massive windows.
She adjusted her glasses once before continuing through the endless files of Beacon's newest applicants.
The next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses.
The kingdom's future.
Some names already carried reputations far beyond their age , so great were their potential.
Weiss Schnee.
Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company.
Talented. Disciplined. Politically complicated.
Yang Xiao Long.
Aggressive combat scores. Excellent field instincts. Several notes regarding property damage.
Glynda sighed quietly before continuing.
Nora Valkyrie.
High energy. Questionable restraint. Concerning enthusiasm regarding explosions.
Pyrrha Nikos.
Exceptional in nearly every category.
Honestly unfair to the rest of the applicants.
Lie Ren.
Calm. Precise. Emotionally reserved.
Blake Belladonna.
Excellent written scores.
Unusually vague background information.
Glynda narrowed her eyes slightly at that one before moving on.
Jaune Arc.
She paused.
"…How did you even pass the entrance recommendations , let only a combat school to graduate?"
A long sigh escaped her.
Then
Cardin Winchester.
Glynda's expression immediately flattened.
"…Wonderful."
She continued down the list.
Russel Thrush.
Dove Bronzewing.
Sky Lark.
Promising students.
Some more troublesome than others.
And then there were the applications she would have to reject.
That part never became easier.
Because behind every file was someone hoping to become strong enough to protect people.
Some carried family expectations.
Others carried grief.
Fear.
Dreams.
Beacon only accepted a fraction of those who applied each year.
Not because the rest lacked courage ,But because courage alone was not enough to survive this world.
Then again
"…Another increase?" Professor Peter asked quietly from across the office.
Glynda didn't answer immediately.
She flipped a page.
Then another.
"…Yes," she finally admitted.
Ozpin stood silently near the office window, coffee in hand.
"How much?"
Glynda exhaled softly.
"Thirty-seven percent increase in Huntsman applicants across Vale this week."
A pause.
"Seventy-two percent increase in frontier combat schools."
Silence filled the room.
"That's not normal fluctuation," Professor Felicity muttered , knowing that the job of huntsman and Huntress was not everyone cup of tea due to the dangers involved.
"No," Glynda agreed.
She slid a folder across the desk. The enrollment records, collected over the years, showed a steadily rising line of enrollment and graduates from combat schools.
Glynda tapped the page once, then again, tracing the pattern with measured precision.
"Look at the trend line," she said quietly.
Ozpin leaned in slightly.
It wasn't just growth.
It was acceleration.
Year by year, the numbers climbed at a manageable pace slow, predictable, consistent with societal demand and Huntsman recruitment cycles.
Then, halfway through the most recent data set, the curve changed.
It stopped being gradual.
It started spiking.
"Frontier regions first," Glynda noted. "Then the inner kingdoms followed."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"And now Vale is leading the increase."
She flipped to the next page.
More charts.
More comparisons.
Even without annotations, the implication was clear.
Something had shifted across Remnant.
Not economics.
Not policy.
Inspiration.
Ozpin studied the data in silence.
"…And all of this began aligning with his appearances?" he asked.
Glynda nodded once.
"Every confirmed sighting," she said. "Every recorded intervention."
A brief pause.
"The pattern is consistent."
She closed the folder with a quiet thud.
"He doesn't just stop Grimm attacks."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"He changes what people believe is possible."
Ozpin did not respond immediately.
He simply looked at the numbers for a long moment.
Then, quietly
"…Interesting."
The word carried more weight than it should have.
"At first it was minor," Glynda explained quietly. "Then steady. Then sharp."
Her finger tapped the final spike.
"After Grayridge…"
A brief pause followed.
"…it exploded."
Ozpin studied the data carefully.
"…So it wasn't just inspiration."
Glynda nodded once.
"It's recruitment."
Another silence settled over the office.
Then Glynda spoke again, quieter this time.
"He's been doing this for years."
Ozpin looked toward her , wanting to know if young William was the cause of this phenomenon.
"…Please Explain professor."
Glynda closed the file slowly.
"Every confirmed sighting of the Red Huntsman correlates with increased Huntsman enrollment."
A pause.
"Not speeches."
Another pause.
"Just him."
Ozpin said nothing for a long moment.
Outside the windows, Beacon stood illuminated against the night sky overlooking Vale.
Then
"…Prepare Beacon's admission channels."
Glynda looked up sharply.
"You intend to recruit him?"
Ozpin took a slow sip of coffee.
"I intend to offer him a choice."
A faint pause followed.
"Before someone else decides what he becomes."
Silence settled again.
Then Ozpin activated the office projector.
An image appeared above the desk.
William Heart mid-flight above Grayridge.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Still moving forward.
Glynda stared at the projection beside him.
"…So this is the individual you wanted us to observe."
"Yes," Ozpin replied calmly.
Glynda studied the image carefully.
"He's not what I expected."
Ozpin's eyes remained fixed on the projection.
"…No," he said softly.
"People rarely are."
Glynda crossed her arms lightly.
"The footage still doesn't make sense."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"No Huntsman should possess that level of endurance."
"No aura reserves should sustain output at that scale."
"And yet he continued fighting."
Ozpin remained quiet.
Glynda's expression hardened slightly.
"That's what concerns me most."
She looked back toward William's image.
"Not the power."
A pause.
"The recklessness he displays"
She had seen talented students before.
Prodigies.
Specialists.
Future legends.
But William Heart looked less like someone trained to survive the world
…and more like someone who had decided his own wellbeing simply didn't matter.
Ozpin finally spoke.
"If no one teaches someone like him how to rely on others…"
His expression darkened slightly knowing the outcome of such extraordinary men who worked alone.
"…Eventually, he'll break."
The room fell silent once more.
Outside, Beacon Academy continued preparing for the arrival of a new generation.
Unaware that one of Remnant's greatest heroes was about to walk through its doors.