Somewhere over Atlas

Winter's heels click against the hard floors as she briskly makes her way through the airship. As she walks through the halls, passing soldiers stop and salute, to which she simply nods, acknowledging their respect for her rank and giving them permission to continue her day. Reaching her destination, she comes to a halt outside a large door at the helm of the ship. Breathing deeply, she readjusts her grip on her tablet and knocks three times.

"Enter!"

Entering the security code on a nine-digit panel to the left of the doors, the metal panels slide apart granting her access to the General's office. The room is large, though mostly empty. The only furniture are two chairs seated in front of Ironwood's polished wooden desk, which the General is currently seated behind.

"Pardon the intrusion sir," she says, approaching the desk, "but you're going to want to see this."

"What is it?" Ironwood asks.

Moving behind the desk, Winter stands at Ironwood's side, placing the tablet on the table in front of him.

"The Vale Peace Rally was ambushed earlier today by members of the extremist group known as the Purifiers." Lisa Lavender reports over the screen. "Bypassing the event disguised as members of the Vale Police Department, the assailants began firing into the crowd an hour into the event. Faunus casualties are estimated to be in the dozens, and several officers were injured in the line of duty. Currently, police are investigating how the Purifiers managed to infiltrate the security detail but are not releasing any statements as of now. It has been speculated that several members of the Purifiers may have been members of the Vale Police Department, which would explain the complicit attitude they have had towards the extremists' actions over the past few months. Fortunately, a handful of huntsmen and huntresses from Beacon Academy were also in attendance, and they quickly put an end to the extremists' attack."

As Lavender continues talking, the screen shows flashes of the scene that were caught on camera, including the defeat of the Purifiers. The camera zooms in and focuses on nine students working together to defeat the terrorists, being coordinated with military like precision by one student in particular. Winter pauses the footage and the General leans back in his seat, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. On the screen is (F/N) (L/N), kneeling on a car and pointing with his metal arm as he instructs his fellow students.

"Footage like this is being broadcast on every station in Vale," Winter informs, "and a handful of channels within Atlas, and presumably the other Kingdoms as well."

"I see." Ironwood says. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"Sir." Winter nods.

The General resumes the footage, watching (F/N) and Teams JNPR and RWBY swiftly incapacitating the attackers. His eyes narrow as he witnesses the young man working in tandem with a red-haired student donned in gladiatorial combat armor. The two work very well together, effortlessly taking down three Purifiers in a matter of seconds. Their movements are extremely well coordinated, Pyrrha dazing a Purifier with a shield bash, then ducking just in time for (F/N) to jump over her with a flying side kick. They're flawless, (F/N) bend over allowing Pyrrha to use his back as a launching point before tag teaming a muscular extremist, Pyrrha hitting high, (F/N) taking his knees. They seem to be able to communicate on a nonverbal level, reading each other's movements so effortlessly it seems like they could be reading each other's minds.

"Lieutenant." Ironwood says, his hands folded in front of his chin.

"Sir."

"Prepare an airship. I need you to get in contact with Mr. (L/N)

Beacon Academy

"What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Pyrrha and (F/N) are alone in the latter's dorm, the door closed. Pyrrha is sitting with one leg up on (F/N)'s bed while she watches her friend slowly pace back and forth in front of her.

"The truth." He says finally.

"What do you mean?" Pyrrha asks slowly, unsure if (F/N) is saying what she thinks he's saying.

"Earlier, back at the rally. You said I was hiding something from you. And... you were right."

"So... you're going to tell me what it is you've been hiding?" She asks hopefully.

Taking a deep breath, (F/N) nods.

"Just... please, promise me that everything I'm about to tell you stays between us."

"But..."

"Pyrrha." (F/N) says firmly. "Please."

"Okay." She nods. "I promise."

"Alright." (F/N) says, taking another deep breath. "Just... don't think too badly about me, once I've told you."

"(F/N), you're scaring me." Pyrrha says nervously. "What is it that you could've done that's so bad?"

Ceasing his pacing, (F/N) stops in front of Pyrrha, unable to meet her gaze.

"Pyrrha, I'm not... a good person." He says finally. "I've done things."

"What types of things?"

"I've hurt people."

"Hurt people how?"

"Look, there was an... incident." (F/N) says, trying to avoid the exact details surrounding his past. "I was born into violence. Grew up in it. It was pretty common to hear stories about someone losing their husband or brother. I lost my dad when I was seven."

Pyrrha gasps. "(F/N), I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Wasn't your fault." (F/N) shrugs.

"So... what was it?"

"Hmm?"

"Well, how'd you lose your father?" Pyrrha asks timidly. "Was it a rebellion or, a-a gang war?"

"Yeah." (F/N) nods. "Somethin' like that."

"What were they fighting over?"

"Same as every other time. Someone had something the others wanted. Maybe it was money, maybe it was land. It doesn't really matter. Anyways," (F/N) continues, "as the fighting got worse, more and more people started getting affected. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't escape what was happening. Everyone was being forced to choose a side, and if you didn't, someone chose for you."

"Is that what happened?" Pyrrha asks. "Someone chose for you?"

(F/N) shakes his head. "No. Not quite." He says. "I volunteered."

"Why?"

"To protect my family." (F/N) responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I had a younger brother. I thought, maybe if I could help end the war before he turned eighteen, I could spare him from having to fight."

Pyrrha nods, not saying anything as she takes in everything (F/N) has just told her. Several minutes pass before she speaks.

"And, your arm?" She asks quietly. "Did you lose it during... you know?"

"Kinda." (F/N) says.

"What do you mean, 'kinda'?"

(F/N) looks down, his hair falling into his eyes. He didn't want to tell her. It wasn't something she needed to know, and he didn't want her pitying him. He had made his decision willingly, and these were the consequences.

"I-I don't... I don't think I should..."

"(F/N). You promised you would tell me."

(F/N) releases a long sigh and sits on the floor, back resting against the wall.

"They uh, did things to me."

"Who's they?" Pyrrha asks, moving from the bed to kneel in front of (F/N).

"I don't know." (F/N) shakes his head. "Some scientists."

"What did they do?"

(F/N) bites his lip as he thinks of the right way to phrase his response. "They... experimented on me. Injected me with chemicals that made my blood burn."

"Why?" Pyrrha asks in horror. "What were they trying to accomplish?"

"They were trying to create a human weapon." (F/N) laughs bitterly. "They did it too. Pyrrha, there's a reason I don't get winded, why I can jump twenty feet in the air and fall just as far without hurting myself. It's because of what they did to me."

"And your arm?" Pyrrha whispers.

"I was needed on the battlefield, but the scientists were hoping to recreate what they'd achieved in me. They took my arm as a-a starting point."

"Oh my God." Pyrrha breathes. "(F/N), I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Like I said, it wasn't your fault."

"No. I'm sorry for making you tell me this. I shouldn't have forced you into telling me this. I shouldn't have..."

"Hey, hey." (F/N) says, pushing himself off the wall and taking Pyrrha's hands softly in his own. "It's okay. One way or another this secret would have driven you away from me. If it was an option between telling you or losing you, then there wasn't really an option. I-I can't lose you. You're too important to me."

Pyrrha blushes, but she slowly pulls her hands from (F/N)'s grip and gets to her feet, standing with her back to him.

"Pyrrha?" (F/N) asks, also standing.

"You said you'd fought. That they'd sent you out onto the battlefield. Have you ever... have you ever killed someone?"

As soon as she asked it, (F/N) knew that this was what the whole thing had been leading up to. He'd told her he had hurt people, hoping to leave it at that. But this was too important to be left alone. Pyrrha needed to ask this question, and now (F/N) had to answer.

"Yes."

"More than one?" Pyrrha asks, and (F/N) can hear the tears in her voice.

Closing his eyes, (F/N) hangs his head. "Yes."

Pyrrha's gasp is cut off by her hand covering her mouth.

"I wish I could change it, but I can't." (F/N) says. "And even if I could, I don't see what else I could've done. I'm sorry for what I did, but I did what I had to to protect my family, and for that... for that I won't apologize."

With those final words, Pyrrha quickly exits the room, not looking at (F/N). The door closes, and (F/N) is left alone once again, his only company the ghosts of the people he'd slaughtered.