Night had settled fully over Atlas by the time they returned to the military base.
The city that had gleamed so brightly during the day now glowed with a quieter confidence, its lights arranged in deliberate constellations along streets and towers. Snow reflected everything, turning even shadows to soft gradients of blue and silver. Jaune watched it all through the car window as they passed through the gates, feeling a faint tug of regret at leaving so soon.
There was still so much he had not seen.
Atlas was an entire kingdom layered with history and intention, and he had only brushed the surface. Museums left unexplored. Districts he had only glimpsed from afar. People whose lives moved within systems far older and more complex than he had imagined. It reminded him of his first days in Vale, when every street had felt unfamiliar and full of promise.
'There'll be time later, I guess.' he told himself. 'Maybe.'
The car rolled to a stop near one of the central access points, and Winter was already waiting for them. She stood with her hands behind her back, breath faintly visible in the cold night air. The soft glow of overhead lights traced sharp lines along her uniform.
Weiss stepped forward first. "Winter, will you be returning with us to the family mansion?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Winter shook her head. "I won't be able to. There are still preparations to oversee. Tomorrow will be busy, after all."
Jaune watched Weiss closely. Her expression remained composed, polite, perfectly neutral. But beneath it, his passive weakness sense stirred, catching on something quieter and heavier. A gentle dip in her emotional balance. Disappointment she did not allow to surface.
Truly, his rune being able to find the weakness of all things was very odd to him. Even now that he head reached comprehension level in it.
Jaune tried not to focus on it, giving her the privacy she would never ask for.
Weiss nodded. "I figured."
Winter stepped closer then and lifted a hand, resting it briefly atop Weiss's head. The gesture was gentle, almost careful, as if she were unsure whether she still had the right to do so.
"We'll have time after the ball," Winter said. "Just us. We can talk and hang out properly then."
Weiss froze for half a second, then relaxed. The tension Jaune had felt eased, replaced by something warmer.
"All right," Weiss said quietly. "I'll hold you to that."
Winter allowed herself a small smile, then straightened and turned to Jaune and Blake. "You two enjoy the evening. Try not to get lost in the Schnee estate."
Jaune chuckled softly. "No promises."
Blake dipped her head politely.
Winter stepped back, saluted Weiss out of habit, then turned and walked away into the glow of the base lights. Weiss watched her go until she disappeared from sight.
Not long after, they were back at the officer dormitories. Jaune moved through the familiar halls with a strange sense of transience, already aware that tonight marked another shift. He packed his things methodically, folding clothes and securing equipment with practiced ease. When he finished, he stood for a moment, hands resting on his bag, staring at the door.
Another place left behind.
Outside, a car waited, its engine humming softly. Weiss and Blake were already inside when he joined them. The doors closed with a muted thump, and the vehicle pulled away from the base, gliding smoothly towards the Upper City.
The ride was quiet.
Atlas at night felt different than during the day. More intimate. The towering structures seemed less imposing, their edges softened by darkness and snowfall. Lights traced the mountain's contours like veins of gold, and the road curved upward with beautiful precision.
Jaune rested his head lightly against the window, watching the city slip past. He remembered doing the same thing when he first arrived in Vale, overwhelmed and excited, trying to memorize every detail. This felt similar, yet different. Atlas was colder, more restrained, but no less alive. And he, had changed the most. His mindset. His ideals. His entire outlook.
It was funny to think how far he had grown. The things that he had seen.
Eventually, the car slowed, snapping him out of his reverie.
Then it stopped.
Jaune looked up.
The Schnee family manor rose before them, vast and luminous against the night sky. Tall iron gates marked the perimeter, adorned with intricate snowflake motifs worked into the metal. Beyond them stretched a long, sweeping drive lined with carefully sculpted trees dusted in snow, each illuminated from below by soft white lights.
Guards approached the vehicle, professional and alert.
Jaune was surprised to find from his senses that these guards were actually Rank 1s. It seemed that these people were professional bodyguards that Winter's family must have hired. Their pay must have been even better than what LUCID offered its own operatives.
Soon, identification was checked, confirmations exchanged, and then the gates parted silently.
The car rolled forward.
As they drew closer, the scale of the manor became undeniable. It was not merely large but rather commanding, in its size. A sprawling estate of white stone and glass, its architecture blending classical grandeur with modern precision. Towers rose at measured intervals, their windows glowing warmly. Balconies and terraces overlooked manicured gardens now resting beneath snow, paths traced in clean arcs.
Blake leaned forward slightly, eyes wide. "Wow."
Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah."
The car pulled to a stop beneath a covered entryway, and the doors opened. Cold air rushed in, crisp and clean. Jaune stepped out and craned his neck, taking in the sheer height of the structure. Even from the outside, it felt like stepping into another world.
The front doors opened before they could approach.
A man stood waiting just inside, posture relaxed yet dignified. He wore a tailored suit and carried himself with the ease of someone who belonged exactly where he was. What was left of his balding hair was neatly styled, and when he smiled, it was warm and genuine.
"My dear young miss Weiss," he exclaimed.
She stepped forward immediately and wrapped him in a brief hug. "Klein. It's good to be home."
He returned the embrace with a fond chuckle. "It's so good to have you back, Miss Weiss."
She turned then, gesturing to Jaune and Blake. "This is Jaune Arc, and Blake Belladonna. Klein, our family's butler, and my friend."
Klein inclined his head politely. "A pleasure, dear sir and madame."
Jaune met his gaze and paused.
The man's eyes were different colors. One a soft blue, the other a warm amber. The contrast was quite striking, almost mesmerizing, and yet it suited him perfectly.
"That's… uh," Jaune said, then smiled sheepishly. "Nice to meet you, sir."
Blake nodded in greeting.
Klein's smile widened slightly, as if amused. "Welcome to the Schnee manor. I hope your stay will be comfortable."
Jaune glanced once more at the vast interior visible beyond the doors, warmth and light spilling outward.
Perhaps... comfortable was an understatement.
Warmth lingered just inside the manor's entrance, wrapping around bone and breath after a long night in Atlas's cold. Soft lighting glowed from crystal fixtures overhead, refracting gently through polished marble floors and pale walls etched with subtle Schnee motifs. The air smelled faintly of pine, a carefully curated comfort that spoke of generations of wealth and habit.
Jaune was still absorbing it all when light footsteps approached from the adjoining hall.
A boy stepped into view, posture upright and chin lifted, perhaps just a little too high. He was younger than Weiss, noticeably so, but carried himself with a practiced sense of composure that felt rehearsed. His hair was a pale silver white, neatly styled and combed with care, falling just short of his eyes. Those eyes were a sharp, icy blue, striking and alert, already assessing the room the moment he arrived.
He was dressed immaculately in tailored clothes that mirrored Atlas fashion at its most refined. He looked every bit the heir to a powerful family, even if his frame was still slight and not yet fully grown.
Jaune's passive weakness sense stirred the instant the boy's gaze landed on them.
Derision, faint but present and beneath it, unmistakably, excitement.
That combination made Jaune a little curious.
The boy approached with measured steps, stopping just short of Weiss. His eyes flicked briefly to Blake, then to Jaune, before settling back on his sister.
"Welcome home, Weiss," he said. His voice was smooth, controlled, carrying a polite formality that felt far too rigid for someone his age. "I trust your trip was… acceptable?"
Jaune raised a brow.
Weiss stared at him for half a second longer than necessary, then smiled. Not the polite smile she wore for other, but something softer and far more genuine.
"Whitley," she said.
And then she stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.
The reaction was immediate.
Whitley froze.
He went stiff, shoulders locking as if his body had forgotten what to do next. For a heartbeat, he looked stunned, eyes widening just slightly. Then, slowly, the tension drained from him. His arms lifted, hesitant at first, before returning the embrace with surprising firmness.
Jaune felt the emotional shift ripple through his weakness sense like a sudden warmth breaking through ice.
Comfort and relief.
It lasted only a moment.
Whitley pulled back abruptly, cheeks flushing a faint pink as he cleared his throat and smoothed the front of his jacket. He straightened, lifting his chin again, dignity snapping back into place like armor.
"You should announce yourself next time," he muttered, clearly flustered. "T-this is highly improper behavior."
From the corner of his eye, Jaune noticed the way Weiss's lips curved, amusement shining through her exterior. Blake looked equally entertained, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth.
Whitley turned his attention to them then, regaining his composure with visible effort.
"I am Whitley Schnee," he said, extending his hand first to Blake, then to Jaune. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Blake accepted the handshake smoothly. "Blake Belladonna."
Jaune followed suit. "Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."
Whitley's grip was firm, deliberate, his gaze sharp as he studied both Jaune and Blake with open curiosity. The excitement Jaune had sensed earlier spiked briefly, though tempered by restraint.
When the introductions were finished, Whitley stepped back, folding his hands behind his back in a way that mirrored Weiss's earlier posture.
Jaune watched him quietly.
There was something familiar there, not just in appearance, though the resemblance to Weiss was unmistakable in the shape of his face and the sharpness of his eyes.
No, what was familiar was in the way he carried himself. The guarded exterior. The practiced politeness. The way his emotions were carefully tucked away beneath layers of expectation.
Standoffish at first glance, but shy beneath it all. Weiss had been like that once.
Jaune found himself wondering, briefly and with no small amount of curiosity, if Winter had been the same when she was younger. The thought lingered a little longer than it should have, helped along by a traitorous flicker of teenage imagination. He shook it off almost immediately, cheeks warming slightly at his own thoughts.
Before anything else could be said, a new sound cut through the space.
Footsteps.
Heavier and slower. Each one echoed clearly through the grand hall, resonating against stone and glass. The atmosphere shifted subtly, as if the manor itself were holding its breath.
Jaune looked up.
A man was descending the staircase.
The man had an interesting figure, tall with narrow shoulders. Yet, his presence filling the space with effortless authority. His hair was silvered with age, combed neatly back from a sharp, angular face. Lines marked his features, not from warmth or laughter, but from years of stern control. His eyes were a cold steel blue, calculating and observant, missing nothing as they swept over the room.
He wore an immaculate suit, dark and expensive, tailored to perfection. Every detail spoke of power and wealth, of someone long accustomed to being obeyed.
Whitley straightened further, posture snapping into something rigid and more formal. His excitement vanished, replaced by a focused determination, as if silently presenting himself for approval.
Weiss's expression flickered.
For just a fraction of a second, a small scowl touched her features. It was gone almost immediately, smoothed away behind practiced neutrality. Jaune still caught it, his weakness sense echoing the brief spike of displeasure before it was buried.
The man reached the bottom of the stairs and paused, hands resting lightly at his sides. His gaze moved from Whitley to Weiss, then to Blake and Jaune, assessing them with clinical precision.
"So the prodigal daughter returns." The man noted, with a hint of amusement dancing on his tongue. "These are you friends?"
Then Weiss stepped forward.
"Indeed they are, father," she said evenly.
She turned slightly, gesturing toward them.
"Jaune, Blake," Weiss continued. "I'd like to introduce you to my father, Jacques Schnee."
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon