Morning softly arrived.
Sunlight filtered through layered cloud cover, refracted into pale bands that glimmered against frost laced windows and polished steel architecture. The city woke with motion. Conveyors hummed beneath elevated walkways. Transit rails whispered as sleek cars slid along their routes. Snow fell in slow, patient spirals, never allowed to accumulate for long before invisible systems cleared it away.
Jaune stood near the entrance of the officer dormitory complex, hands tucked into his coat pockets, breath fogging faintly in the cold air. Despite everything he had learned during the night before, there was something calming about the way Atlas greeted the morning. Order radiated from every surface. Nothing felt hurried or neglected.
Weiss soon emerged, dressed casually yet well enough that her clothes highlighted her figure.
'Say what you will about her but this rich girl has style.' Jaune couldn't help but muse.
Her white coat contrasted sharply with the darker metal structures behind her and her pale hair caught the light like frost.
Blake followed close behind. Unlike Weiss, she was dressed in dark tech-wear clothing that absorbed the brightness around her, eyes already peeking the surroundings with quiet interest.
Weiss clasped her hands together once. "All right. Since brooding won't help anyone, I propose we do something productive."
Jaune raised a brow. "Productive how?"
"Tourism," she replied simply. "We still have today. The ball and the official announcements happen tomorrow evening. That gives us enough time to actually see Atlas city instead of just its military underbelly. Well, the reality version of the city at least. Dream realm non-withstanding."
Blake tilted her head slightly. "Hmm, sightseeing huh? Could be fun, I guess."
"Yes," Weiss said, unbothered. "Atlas has culture, history, and infrastructure worth seeing. You two have been inside bases and the ruined dreamscapes since you arrived. That's not exactly a fair first impression."
Jaune considered that, then nodded. "Sure. I could use something normal."
They were escorted out of the military perimeter without delay. Clearance was granted almost immediately, gates parting smoothly as their identifications were scanned. Waiting just beyond the checkpoint was a sleek private vehicle, its surface a polished white accented with subtle silver lines. A uniformed chauffeur stood beside it, posture straight and professional.
"Ms. Schnee," he said with a polite bow. "Where would you like to begin?"
Weiss stepped forward without hesitation. "Lets head to the Lower City first."
The car glided onto the streets with barely a sound.
Atlas City unfolded around them in layers.
The Lower City was vast and alive, built across wide avenues and tiered districts that extended outward from the mountain's base. Buildings rose high but not oppressive. Glass and metal blended with stone and reinforced concrete, designs favoring clean lines and geometric harmony. Snow rested along ledges and rooftops, yet the streets themselves remained pristine.
People moved with purpose, but not urgency. Families walked beneath heated canopy paths. Workers boarded transit pods that floated inches above the ground before merging into larger traffic streams. Vendors sold warm drinks and confections from compact stalls, steam curling into the cold air.
Jaune pressed his forehead lightly against the window as he watched it all pass.
"It's… peaceful," he said.
Blake had different thoughts. "Controlled, more like." She gestured towards the patrol units, passing by. Those were police officers, but according to the information they learnt, both the Police and the military operated very closely.
Weiss didn't disagree. "It's maintained, I suppose."
They passed through a plaza where a large sculptural installation dominated the center. A stylized depiction of Atlas itself, the Titan carved in abstract form, holding the city aloft. Children played nearby, laughing as artificial snowflakes drifted down in playful bursts, carefully calibrated by city systems.
Further along, they crossed over one of the great transit junctions. Here, Jaune finally noticed it.
The shift.
The road began a gradual incline, barely perceptible at first. Buildings subtly changed shape. Foundations grew deeper. Structures curved inward toward the mountain rather than outward.
"That's the divide," Weiss said, noticing his attention. "Lower City and Upper City."
Jaune leaned forward. "The upper city is inside the mountain?"
"Carved into it," Weiss corrected. "The peak was terraformed decades ago. Split open, reinforced, and hollowed to make space."
Blake glanced upward as the mountain face came into view, massive and imposing. "You can barely tell."
"That's the point," Weiss replied. "Atlas believes infrastructure and strength go hand in hand. It should look effortless."
Public transportation systems threaded between the two halves of the city. Massive vertical rail lines carried people upward in glass enclosed platforms. Magnetic lifts traced along the mountain's interior like veins of light. Jaune watched one such transport rise, disappearing into the stone before reemerging higher up, seamlessly integrated into the skyline.
The Upper City felt different.
Quieter and a little brighter.
Snow fell more consistently here, pristine and untouched until automated systems gently cleared walkways. Buildings were more spacious, architecture favoring elegance over density. Gardens thrived beneath climate controlled domes, greenery flourishing despite the cold outside.
"This is where most of the richer families live," Weiss explained. "Executives, officials, long term residents. It's not restricted, but it is… perhaps... curated."
Jaune exhaled softly. "Well... it surely feels expensive."
Blake smirked. "You're allowed to say intimidating."
They toured museums showcasing Atlas history, from its early industrial rise to its role in shaping modern LUCID technology. Weiss narrated portions with practiced familiarity, pointing out exhibits she remembered visiting as a child. Blake lingered over displays detailing labor movements and early legislation. Jaune found himself fascinated by the sheer scale of Atlas engineering projects, entire districts moved or reshaped to better serve the city's design.
Hours passed easily.
Eventually, the car pulled up before a restaurant perched along the edge of an upper city terrace. Floor to ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of the Lower City below, lights beginning to glow as afternoon drifted toward evening.
Jaune stared.
"We're eating here? It looks a little… expensive."
"It is," Weiss said cheerfully. "I made reservations."
He hesitated at the entrance, memories surfacing unbidden. Chaos. Screaming. A restaurant in Vale turned nightmare zone.
Weiss noticed immediately.
She placed a hand on his arm. "Jaune. Atlas is safer. Much safer, in fact. Spillovers, if they were to happen, would be contained immediately."
Blake was curious at the reaction, then seemed to suddenly remember the incident that occurred a little while back. "Right... I'd almost forgotten about that."
Jaune said nothing. "Yeah, it's a little harder for me to for me to forget." He then took a breath, and followed Weiss inside
Warmth wrapped around them instantly. Soft lighting reflected off polished surfaces. Conversations were hushed, refined. The scent of rich food filled the air.
.
.
Once they were seated at their table, a server approached with a practiced smile and menus bound in dark leather, the lettering embossed in silver. Jaune accepted his with a small nod, flipping it open and immediately stiffening.
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
"…Is this in English?" he asked carefully, eyes scanning a list of items whose descriptions were longer than most mission briefings.
Weiss glanced at his menu and smirked. "Yes. Unfortunately."
Blake leaned in slightly, reading over his shoulder. "You know... I'm pretty sure some of these words are made up."
"They're not," Weiss replied primly. "They're just Atleasian styled food."
"That doesn't help," Jaune muttered.
The server cleared his throat politely. "May I recommend tonight's specials?"
Weiss nodded. "Please."
The server launched into a smooth explanation. Hand crafted truffle gnocchi served with a white wine cream reduction. Seared duck breast glazed with berry jus and paired with herbed root vegetables. Atleasian sea bass lightly poached in olive oil, accompanied by saffron risotto. For starters, a selection of artisanal breads with cultured butter and imported cheeses.
Jaune listened, nodding along as if he understood every word, then slowly turned to Weiss once the server finished.
"…I'll just have whatever you're having."
Blake snorted softly. "Coward."
"Shush you. It's survival," Jaune replied.
Blake ordered the duck with a side salad, sounding far more comfortable with the menu than Jaune had expected. Weiss chose the sea bass without hesitation, then glanced at Jaune again.
"And you?"
Jaune exhaled. "Uh. G-Gnocchi. That sounds… nice."
The server took their orders and disappeared with a quiet bow.
For a moment, the table sat in an easy silence. The earlier tension from the Dream Realm still lingered faintly in the back of Jaune's mind, but it was distant now, dulled by warmth and the normalcy of being seated at a restaurant with friends. Real friends, not operatives or soldiers.
Weiss was the first to steer the conversation away.
"So," she said, folding her hands atop the table. "Now that we're officially on school break, how did you two feel the year went?"
Jaune leaned back in his chair. "Honestly? I thought I was going to fail at least half my classes."
Blake raised an eyebrow. "You passed all of them."
"I said I thought," he replied. "Doesn't mean I didn't spend half the year convinced Professor Port was plotting my academic demise."
Weiss smiled faintly. "Biology wasn't that bad."
Jaune shot her a look. "Easy for you to say. You and Pyrrha actually enjoyed it."
"I did not enjoy it," Weiss corrected. "I tolerated it with grace."
Jaune deadpanned. "You color coded your notes..."
"That is called organization!"
Jaune laughed. "Hey, I'm just saying! In any case, biology was fine until we hit genetics. Then my brain kind of checked out."
"That part in my biology class was kind of fun," Blake said. "It raised some interesting philosophical questions about determinism."
Weiss rolled her eyes. "Of course it did."
Jaune glanced between them. "Speaking of philosophy, Blake, you were way too into that class."
Blake shrugged lightly. "I liked the debates."
"You liked arguing?" Weiss said.
"That's different."
"It really isn't," Jaune added.
Blake ignored them. "That professor was a little odd, sure, but he made you think."
Jaune groaned. "He made us argue whether free will existed while timing us with a stopwatch."
"That was to encourage concise reasoning," Blake countered, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
"And yelling," Jaune added. "Don't forget the yelling."
Blake smiled faintly at the memory. "He did have a habit of escalating debates until someone snapped."
Weiss sniffed. "Sounds unprofessional. I'm glad I didn't take that class."
Jaune grinned. "I mean... it was, entertaining, I suppose."
Their drinks arrived then, crystal glasses set gently on the table. Jaune took a sip and relaxed almost immediately.
"Damn..." he admitted. "This place might actually be worth the price."
Weiss smirked. "Naturally."
Conversation drifted easily from there. Chemistry class came up next.
"I still don't know how Nora passed," Jaune said. "She spent half the labs trying to see what happened if you mixed things you definitely shouldn't."
Blake nodded. "Ren kept trying to stop her, but Yang encouraged it."
"Of course she did," Weiss said dryly.
"And somehow," Jaune continued, "Our teacher just sighed every time. The only thing she did was to give them extra worksheets."
Blake chuckled. "Maybe she liked the enthusiasm?"
"Explosions, more like. Seriously who knew that Nora was so well verse in creating coloured flames?" Jaune shook his head.
They talked about the year winding down, exams finished, the strange feeling of suddenly having free time. Second year loomed ahead, heavier coursework, more responsibility.
"I'm looking forward to it," Weiss admitted quietly. "Second year means electives."
Jaune nodded. "Means I won't have to pretend to enjoy Math."
Blake smirked. "I'm a little excited too. Classes get more specialized so it's less busywork."
Weiss glanced at Blake, lips curling slightly. "Hmm, I don't remember you being this talkative last year."
Blake blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You were very… standoffish," Weiss said innocently.
Jaune leaned forward. "That's putting it lightly."
Blake stared at him. "Traitor." She then crossed her arms, suddenly defensive. "You weren't exactly welcoming either, Weiss."
Jaune grinned. "Oh no. You were way worse."
Weiss flushed. "I was not!"
"You absolutely were," Blake said. "You glared at everyone."
"That was my thinking face!"
"You threatened to report Yang for breathing too loudly."
"She was breathing too loudly!"
Jaune laughed. "You two were like a walking cold war."
Weiss huffed, cheeks pink. "Well, things change."
Blake smiled slyly. "They do."
Jaune tilted his head, mischief lighting his eyes. "Speaking of things changing, Weiss, did you know Blake reads Ninjas of Love?"
Silence struck like a dropped plate.
Blake froze.
"…Y-you didn't."
Jaune did.
Weiss's eyes widened slightly. "Excuse me?"
Blake lunged across the table. "Jaune!"
He caught her wrist easily, reflexive and smooth, and leaned back with a grin. "Careful."
He winked.
Blake's face went crimson. "You're dead."
Weiss stared at Blake, mouth open. "Ninjas of Love?"
Blake yanked her hand free. "It's not what it sounds like."
"That's exactly what it sounds like. It's filth, disguised as literature." Weiss said flatly.
Jaune smirked. "How many volumes were there again? One through twelve?"
Blake groaned. "I trusted you!"
Jaune couldn't help but grin at her reaction, but then all of a sudden, he paused and narrowed his eyes. "Wait... hold on. Weiss... how do you know about that series?"
Slowly, both he and Blake looked at Weiss.
"Yeah Weiss," Blake doubled down carefully. "Why do you even know the name?"
Weiss stiffened. "That is irrelevant."
Jaune laughed. "Uh huh."
Their food arrived then, mercifully interrupting the standoff. Plates were set down with care, aromas rich and inviting. Jaune stared at his gnocchi.
"…This... um... is this edible?"
Weiss smiled faintly. "Eat."
They did.
For a while, there was only the quiet clink of cutlery and soft conversation around them. The city glowed beyond the windows, snow falling steadily, the world feeling distant and calm.
.
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon