A Path To Omniscience

As Asher and Weiss stepped back into Frostvale Manor through the glass doors, Asher noticed two maids waiting nearby. One was the same maid who had called him out earlier, while the other was unfamiliar. The second maid held a pair of damp towels, approaching them with a polite bow.

"Here you are, Young Master, Miss," she said, offering the towels.

Asher took one while Weiss accepted the other. He nodded in acknowledgment.

"Thank you. Though, I don't recall asking anyone to wait here."

The maid holding the towels replied with a respectful tone, "There's no need for thanks, Young Master. Lavi mentioned that you and Miss Schnee often exercise together in the backyard, so she arranged for me to be here."

"Oh, did she? I'll have to thank her later," Asher remarked casually. The maid offered a small nod before stepping away.

After quickly wiping his face, Asher draped the towel around his neck.

Weiss, however, was taking her time. Her fighting style was far more dynamic than Asher's, leaving her more exhausted when not using her aura. She dabbed at her face and neck slowly. Her glances toward the other maid were brief but unmistakable, the awkward tension stemming from the knowledge that the maid had undoubtedly seen them kissing.

Despite the maid's professional demeanor, Weiss couldn't shake the thought. Breaking the silence, Asher turned to the remaining maid.

"You mentioned my father called for me?" The maid inclined her head slightly and held out one of the house phones.

"Yes, sir. He's still at the office and initially called to check on some matters here at the manor. Before ending the call, he mentioned he had something important to discuss with you."

"I see," Asher said, taking the phone from her. He held it to his ear and pressed the button to unmute the line.

"Father?" Asher asked into the phone. For a moment, there was only silence before a faint click signaled the connection on the other end.

"Ah, there you are, Asher," his father's voice came through, steady and composed.

"I heard you were out sparring with Weiss, correct? I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Asher shook his head, though his father couldn't see it.

"Not at all. We just finished and came back inside, so your timing's perfect."

"Good to hear," his father responded, a hint of approval in his tone.

"I have to say, I'm not sure where you picked up a hobby like that, but I suppose it's good to see you staying active. Anyway, I won't keep you long—we're both busy, I'm sure. I just wanted to let you know I've arranged that meeting with the jailed Faunus for tomorrow. The chief of the station where they're being held is an acquaintance of mine."

Asher raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you were friends with a police chief."

"I know a lot of people, Asher," his father replied matter-of-factly.

"Now, I'm not entirely sure what you're hoping to accomplish by delaying their sentencing, but once the meeting is done, the transfer to prison will proceed in about a week. Keep that in mind."

"Understood. That's more than enough," Asher said with a calm smile, the expression coming instinctively even though the conversation was over the phone.

"Good." His father's voice briefly paused, interrupted by muffled noises in the background—a knock followed by the sound of a door opening.

"Hmm? Oh, alright. Take it to the meeting room; I'll be there shortly," he instructed someone nearby before returning to the call.

"I have to go now. I'll see you and your mother at dinner tonight."

"Of course. See you then," Asher replied before hanging up. He handed the phone back to the maid with a nod of thanks.

As the maid took her leave, Weiss seemed to relax slightly. She turned to Asher with a small smile. "Sounds like you have plans."

"Hmm? Naturally. It's the Frostvale way to always stay busy," Asher replied with a casual shrug. "But that's for tomorrow. As for today, I don't have much on the agenda."

Weiss raised an intrigued brow. "I see. Well, my ride won't be here for another couple of hours. So, what should we do?"

"Let's see..." Asher tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"I took the TV out of my room—it was too distracting—but we can watch just about anything in the living room. Plus, we still have some of those chocolate and peanut candies you and Whitley devoured during the sleepover." At the mention of the candies, a faint sparkle lit up Weiss's eyes.

"Oh, those were good," she admitted, clearly tempted.

"And we never finished watching Grimm-nado..." She added, her tone thoughtful. Asher chuckled lightly.

"You still want to watch Grimm-nado?" Weiss hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"I mean... yeah, sort of? It's bad, but somehow that makes it good. Does that make sense?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Asher replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. He started walking toward the living room, Weiss falling into step beside him. Their conversation quickly veered into a discussion about the absurdity and unexpected charm of Grimm-nado.

=====================================•=====================================

September 26th, 2033

Once again, Asher found himself leaning back in his seat, a passive passenger in the back of the armored truck en route to his destination. Through the windows, the hazy, gray air of Mantle stretched before him, the familiar blend of gentle snowfall illuminated by the slightly yellow-tinted glow of overhead streetlights.

He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift into a rare state of blankness. Moments of mental stillness were fleeting for him, given the constant demands and responsibilities that filled his days.

But the silence, as always, was short-lived. The subtle shift of the truck's wheels slowing and the eventual halt brought him back to the present. It was time to reengage with the world.

Sitting upright, Asher heard a sharp knock against the door before it folded open. Standing just outside was a bald man wearing tinted glasses. His demeanor, along with the long black overcoat draped over his tailored suit and the pristine black leather gloves, made his role unmistakable.

Asher's parents had left no room for risk when it came to his trips to Mantle. They had hired private security—less combat-oriented than the Glacier Guard, but their presence alone served as an effective deterrent.

"We've arrived, sir," the bodyguard stated. Asher gave a slight nod before stepping out of the truck. He adjusted his tan, fur-lined coat as the icy air greeted him, a puff of frosted breath escaping his lips. The crunch of snow and ice under his shoes echoed faintly in the otherwise subdued street.

He glanced up and down the block, noting how desolate it felt. The few citizens braving Mantle's streets barely lingered with their stares, their curiosity quickly giving way to indifference as they shuffled along. The presence of Atlas's elite rarely inspired warm receptions in the cold city below the floating kingdom.

The bodyguard stepped beside Asher, opening an umbrella to shield him from the light snowfall. Behind the truck, two sleek black cars with tinted windows came into view, flanking the vehicle. Including the man holding the umbrella, the total number of guards reached seven—an imposing, if not excessive, entourage.

Turning his attention away from the convoy, Asher focused on the building ahead. The police station loomed with its stark design, the entrance marked by a glowing neon-white crest: the shield of the Atlas Police Force. 

Like most buildings in Mantle, the police station had a muted color scheme, though it stood out slightly with its faded white exterior—just a shadow of the pristine whites often seen in Atlas. Positioned at a three-way junction, the cube-shaped, three-story structure was functional in design. Its exterior lights, set between each floor, cast a cold whitish-blue glow that illuminated the surrounding area.

As Asher approached the entrance, his gaze fell on two Atlas soldiers stationed outside. Dressed in their standard white-gray body armor and helmets that covered all but their mouths. In Atlas, the line between military and police was paper-thin, their distinction more about duties than appearance.

One of the soldiers raised a hand as Asher upon seeing his bodyguard, and the others waiting by the two black cars. 

"Hold on, who-" Before he could finish, the station's door opened. A man with slick brown hair and a chiseled face stepped out, his wide smile contrasting sharply with the gravity of his sharp gaze. The soldier faltered, clearly surprised by the man's sudden appearance.

"It's fine," the man said. His voice carried an authoritative weight that didn't quite match the friendliness of his expression. The soldier, after a brief hesitation, nodded and stepped back, standing down.

Asher immediately guessed the man was the police chief. He wore a uniform more reminiscent of Atlas's military than its police force—a fitted, double-breasted white jacket with a high collar and silver epaulets marking his rank. His matching pants and polished boots completed the look, making it difficult to imagine him as an officer.

"You must be Asher," the chief said, extending his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Asher returned the handshake with a polite smile of his own, softer yet equally composed.

"Likewise. Though, I'm afraid my father forgot to tell me your name." The chief chuckled.

"Ah, my apologies. Cornel Sill. But you can just call me Chief Cornel."

"Understood," Asher replied, mentally filing away the name. With introductions out of the way, Cornel gestured for Asher and his bodyguard to follow him into the station.

"Your father mentioned you wanted to speak with the Faunus we've got in holding. The ones from the Night Talons gang, correct?" Asher nodded as they walked.

"That's right."

"I see," Cornel said, glancing at Asher.

"That explains why he asked us to delay their sentencing and keep them here longer than usual. Honestly, I'd have expected your parents to want the animals responsible for endangering their son locked away as quickly as possible." He punctuated his comment with a casual laugh. Asher adjusted his smile slightly as he replied. 

"I'm simply here to make them an offer. If they decline, they'll go wherever my parents originally intended." Cornel hummed thoughtfully, giving an acknowledging nod.

"Ah, I see." He didn't press further. Whether out of professional discretion or a keen sense of self-preservation, Cornel seemed adept at reading the room. Whatever was happening here wasn't his business, and he intended to keep it that way—maintaining good relations with the influential Frostvale family was priority enough.

"I had them moved to one of the underground cells when I heard you were coming," Cornel said as they passed through a door near the back of the station. The air grew cooler as they descended a set of stone stairs. At the bottom, they arrived at another door—sturdy metal with a scanner mounted beside it.

Before they could act, the door clicked open, unlocked from the other side by an Atlas soldier swiping a keycard.

Stepping through, they entered a long, lit corridor. The smooth stone walls reflected the sterile glow of the overhead white lights. Unlike traditional cells with bars, the ones here were three-walled rooms sealed off by shimmering hard-light barriers. Six small cells lined the corridor, three on each side, while two larger cells occupied the far end.

"I'll be here if you need me," Cornel said, gesturing down the hallway.

"The ones you're looking for are at the end—split between the cells on your left and right."

"Thank you," Asher replied with a polite nod before continuing forward. The echo of his footsteps on the smooth stone floor reverberated through the corridor.

As he reached the end, his sharp eyes scanned the two cells. Four people occupied each, their faces familiar. Thanks to the Nexus Space, his photographic memory meant he could confirm who was who despite never really getting to see their faces. Time in jail had clearly worn them down.

Some barely reacted to his presence not bothering to look up to see who was walking over. 

But not all.

In the left cell, two figures immediately caught his attention: Indigo and Gray. Indigo had been the leader of their gang, the one who'd personally tried to rob him, while Gray served as her second-in-command.

Indigo sat on a cold metal bench, her head down until she noticed him. Her eyes widened briefly, her initial surprise quickly replaced by a scowl. She opened her mouth as if to speak, hesitated, then settled on a look of annoyance. When she did finally speak, her voice dripped with venom, though her words carried more bark than bite.

"Well, well. Would you look at that? If it isn't our favorite Atlas heir, gracing us with his presence before we're shipped off to whatever prison your parents have in mind," Indigo sneered, her attempt at a smug tone undermined by weeks of confinement.

"Fantastic," Gray muttered from the back of the cell, leaning against the far wall. He rolled his eyes before adding, "First, our sentencing gets delayed. Then we're stuck in here for a month. And now this. Honestly, I'm starting to think there's some higher power out there that just hates us."

He crossed his arms, glaring at Asher through the barrier with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

The other gang members stirred at the mention of Asher's arrival. Those who had been asleep or ignoring their surroundings now turned their attention to him, their expressions ranging from unease to curiosity. Though they remained silent, Asher could feel their gazes piercing through the barrier, each one radiating a unique cocktail of emotions.

"Afraid there are no higher powers at work here," Asher replied in an almost friendly tone. "Just me and my family. I've been meaning to talk to you two for a while now, actually. But I had to handle a few things first, so I needed you to stick around."

Indigo's eye twitched slightly as she heard the friendly tone in his voice. For a brief moment, she saw a flash of Vance, Asher's father, in the fourteen-year-old standing before her—the same boy who had delivered such a chilling threat that it had made them hesitate to make a move on him.

Like father, like son, huh?

Her gaze shifted to the bodyguard standing a short distance behind Asher. Hands clasped behind his back, his posture was deceptively relaxed, but Indigo could feel his sharp focus on them. The glasses he wore made it difficult to read his expression, but his intent was clear.

"Hmm," Indigo said, cocking her head.

"Who's tall, dark, and baldy over there? Did you bring a bodyguard just to see us? You know we're in cells, right?" Asher glanced back at his bodyguard before a light chuckle escaped him, surprising Indigo. She hadn't expected him to laugh at her jab.

"Well, you see, after you all tried to rob me, my parents got a little paranoid. They insist I travel with extra protection now, and, honestly, I don't have the heart—or the time—to convince them otherwise," he explained with a casual shrug.

"Huh, sounds like we did you a favor," Gray cut in, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"We're all so happy for you and your family bonding experience. Now, why don't you get to the point? You've kept us here long enough. You said you wanted to talk, so talk." Asher raised an eyebrow at Gray's bluntness but merely shrugged.

"Alright, then. I'll keep it brief." He shifted his gaze, not just to Indigo and Gray, but to the other Faunus in both cells as well.

"I want all of you," he began, his tone firm, "to work for me. I'm creating a special division under the banner of the Atlas Military. You can think of it as a special forces team."

The room fell into stunned silence. Confusion spread across the faces of everyone in the cells. Whispers and murmurs broke out among the gang members, but Indigo was the first to move. She rose from the bench and approached the barrier, stopping just a meter from Asher.

Her piercing gaze locked onto his, and without warning, she slammed her hand against the hard light barrier. The barrier responded instantly, sparking and zapping her hand, but she didn't flinch.

The corridor filled with the wail of alarms. Cornel and the stationed Atlas soldier reacted immediately, starting toward the commotion. Asher's bodyguard moved as well, reaching into his jacket, but Asher raised a hand, signaling them all to stop.

"Stand down," Asher said calmly, glancing at Cornel and his body guard. There was hesitation, but they complied, returning to their positions as the alarms quieted. Asher then turned his full attention back to Indigo.

Her fox-like ears twitched, the fur bristling as her slitted honey-yellow eyes narrowed at him.

"What kind of game are you playing?" She growled.

"Do you think we're your toys? Something for your amusement?" Her voice was thick with anger—no, rage—and her glare reflected that fury. Asher held her gaze, unflinching, giving her a moment to let the fire in her words simmer down before responding.

"Of course not," he said evenly.

"If I did, I wouldn't be making this offer. I'm giving you a chance—not just to avoid prison, but to get yourselves, and anyone you care about, out of the slums. And more than that, I'm offering you the opportunity to help right the wrongs you've suffered. To fix the problems Atlas's government has ignored for far too long."