Chương 108: Chapter 101: The Icy Reception

The rhythmic, low-frequency hum of the Atlesian Manta airship's engines shifted in pitch as it breached the final, dense layer of Solitas storm clouds. Inside the pressurized cabin, the vanguard pressed themselves against the reinforced glass windows. The floating city of Atlas loomed ahead, a breathtaking, gleaming marvel of pristine white towers and glittering spires suspended impossibly over the desolate, frozen crater of Mantle below.

However, the serene majesty of the kingdom was entirely overshadowed by the oppressive, suffocating iron cage surrounding it. Hundreds of massive, heavily armed Atlesian military airships hovered in a tight, impenetrable blockade formation. The ship's radio console suddenly crackled to life, breaking the tense silence with a burst of static." Manta 6-1. Welcome home," a female Atlas Air Traffic operator's voice echoed through the cockpit, her tone clipped and strictly professional."

Please continue your approach to Atlas docking bay Omega-12. A security team will meet you there. Over." Maria Calavera gripped the flight yoke, her cybernetic goggles whirring as she banked the ship toward the designated coordinates.

"Copy that, Argus Control. Initiating final descent. Over." In the passenger cabin, Ruby Rose pulled her red cloak tighter around her shoulders, her silver eyes wide with a mixture of awe and deep anxiety.

"Look at all those ships," Ruby murmured, her breath fogging the glass.

"They're completely locked down. It looks like they're preparing for a full-scale war." Blake Belladonna stood beside her, her feline ears twitching nervously.

"General Ironwood wasn't exaggerating when he said the kingdom was in chaos. If Salem's forces have already infiltrated the city, they must be tearing the political structure apart from the inside".

"And with the communications network completely severed to the outside world, no one knows exactly how bad it is," Yang Xiao Long added, crossing her arms tightly. The group was hyper-aware of the apocalyptic stakes, yet they deliberately kept their voices hushed. The unspoken, ironclad rule of their alliance remained in full effect: Never mention Salem's name.

They were all actively lying to the bald man sitting in the back row, desperate to hide the existence of the immortal Grimm Queen so he wouldn't attempt to fight her and inadvertently shatter the continent in the crossfire. Jaune Arc stepped into the aisle, adjusting the heavy straps of his steel-riveted chestplate.

His broad shoulders and solid posture radiated the calm, unyielding confidence of a young man whose body had been rebuilt into an impenetrable physical fortress through Saitama's grueling, muscle-tearing "100 push-ups" routine.

"Well, we're here now," Jaune said, his deep voice serving as a steady anchor for the team. He gestured toward Oscar Pine, who was clutching his satchel tightly.

"We managed to secure the Relic of Knowledge. Now we just need to get it to General Ironwood and finally get some answers." Pyrrha Nikos stepped up beside Jaune, her emerald eyes shining with a quiet, fierce pride. She gently rested her hand against his armored arm, offering him a warm, reassuring smile that chased the freezing chill from the cabin.

"Jaune is right," Pyrrha agreed smoothly.

"We cannot afford to second-guess ourselves now."

"I don't know, guys," Nora Valkyrie muttered, unusually subdued as she leaned on Magnhild.

"We still don't have any official clearance. Our enemies deleted it from the system, remember? There's no way a random security team is just going to let us waltz into Ironwood's office." Lie Ren nodded grimly.

"We are arriving as unauthorized, unregistered visitors piloting a military vessel. It is highly probable they will attempt to detain us."

"Or worse," Yang frowned, casting a worried glance toward the heiress.

"Once those soldiers realize who we have on board, they might just bypass Ironwood entirely and drag Weiss straight back to her father's manor." Weiss Schnee didn't flinch. She stood perfectly straight, her hands resting elegantly in front of her combat skirt. In the past, the mere thought of Jacques Schnee's suffocating authority would have paralyzed her. But now, her pale blue eyes were as cold and sharp as the glaciers outside.

She remembered the day in Beacon's parlor when Jacques's crystalline cane had been casually shattered by a single, annoyed sigh from a bald man in a yellow suit.

"My father wouldn't dare. He possesses no real power over me anymore," Weiss stated, her voice ringing with absolute, aristocratic defiance." And even if he intends to try and drag me back to that gilded cage... he is more than welcome to try."

"That's the spirit, Weiss," Ruby cheered, offering a bright, determined grin.

"We stick together. No matter what."

"Alright, kids, brace yourselves," Qrow Branwen called out from the cockpit, securing his flask in his coat pocket.

"We're touching down." The Manta shuddered as the landing gear deployed, executing a flawless touchdown onto the sprawling, frosted metallic surface of docking bay Omega-12. As the engines began to whine down, Weiss turned toward the back of the cabin.

"Neo," Weiss addressed the diminutive illusionist with a sharp, professional tone.

"We need to mask your appearance before those doors open until General Ironwood granted my request to expunge your criminal records from the Atlesian military database." Neopolitan, maintaining her tense, unspoken truce with the group under the watchful eye of her bizarre protector, let out a dramatic, silent sigh. She rolled her heterochromic eyes, twirling her parasol lazily before channeling her Aura.

With a soft, rippling shimmer of her Overactive Imagination Semblance, her vibrant pink-and-brown hair shifted into a dull, solid brown, and her stylish combat gear melted into the illusion of a mundane, beige winter coat.

"That goes for you too, baldy," Qrow grunted, looking at Saitama.

"Keep your head down." Standing at the back of the group, Saitama, in his immaculate black suit and pristine white trench coat, let out a massive, highly exaggerated groan.

"This is so incredibly tedious," Saitama complained, his voice a flat, nasal drone of absolute misery. He reached over, grabbing Roman Torchwick's signature bowler hat and plopping it heavily onto his head to conceal his shiny scalp. He didn't care about the shadow war, the military blockade, or the political state of Atlas. He was motivated entirely by one singular, overriding desire.

"It's been a really long day. I just want to sleep," Saitama grumbled, crossing his arms and fixing Weiss with a deadpan, expectant glare.

"You promised me a luxury penthouse with heated floors and free, premium Wagyu beef. If there isn't any beef waiting for me, I'm walking back to Vale."

"You will get your beef," Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Just please, be quiet." With a heavy, pressurized hiss, the side cargo doors of the Manta airship slid open, letting the biting, sub-zero winds of Solitas flood the cabin. The Vanguard stepped out onto the landing pad.

"Well, here we are," Maria said.

"Now I need to meet--" Maria's word got cut by the heavy, rhythmic clatter of military boots echoed across the bay the moment their boots touched the frost-coated tarmac. From behind a perimeter of supply crates, a full squad of heavily armored Atlesian soldiers poured onto the platform, their high-caliber assault rifles raised and aimed directly at the students' chests.

"Freeze! Hands where we can see them!" the lead Sergeant barked, his voice amplified through his helmet's external speakers. Qrow dragged a calloused hand down his face, letting out a bitter, cynical chuckle.

"I knew it."

"Identify yourselves immediately!" the Sergeant demanded, his laser sight tracking across Qrow's chest.

"You are piloting a highly restricted military asset without registered transponder codes! Explain how you acquired this Manta, or we will open fire!" The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Ruby took a cautious step forward, holding her hands up defensively.

"Wait! We didn't steal it! Well... not this specific one! Special Operative Cordovin gave it to us deliberately back in Argus! We have an official appointment with General Ironwood regarding highly confidential matters!"

"Confidential matters?" the Sergeant scoffed, entirely unconvinced.

"We have received no clearance logs from Argus Base, nor any authorization from the General's office!"

"Because the network has been compromised!" Ren interjected calmly, his hands resting near his pistols but making no sudden moves.

"The authorization was deleted from the system by an external override. Please, if you just contact the General directly--""Save your reason in the interrogation room!" another guard yelled, stepping forward. His weapon suddenly drifted, the barrel locking onto the pale girl standing in the center of the group. The guard gasped, his stance faltering in surprise.

"Wait... is that the Schnee heiress?!" The Sergeant's eyes widened behind his visor. The tension on the tarmac instantly skyrocketed from suspicious to hyper-lethal.

"They have Miss Schnee!" the Sergeant shouted to his squad.

"It's a hostage situation! Target lock! Do not let them harm the VIP!"

"What?! No, I am not a hostage!" Weiss yelled indignantly, stepping forward to block Ruby.

"I am a Huntress-in-training, and these are my teammates!" But the soldiers weren't listening. Their fingers tightened dangerously around their triggers. Qrow's crimson eyes narrowed, his Huntsman instincts flaring as he analyzed the squad. He noticed the subtle, erratic tremor in the hands of the soldiers holding the rifles. Their breathing was shallow. Their posture was rigid with a fragile, brittle panic. They're terrified. Qrow realized grimly. Mantle is being sabotaged...

the riots, the severed communications... it's tearing their nerves to shreds. They're itching to pull the trigger. Sensing the rapidly deteriorating standoff, Oscar Pine bravely stepped to the front of the group. He clutched The Long Memory tightly, desperately hoping the diplomatic, ancient resonance of Ozpin's soul could defuse the situation.

"Please, listen to us!" Oscar pleaded, taking a single, earnest step toward the barricade.

"We are allies of Atlas! We just need to speak with--" The sudden movement caused a highly stressed, trembling guard on the left flank to flinch violently. His finger slipped. BANG! A deafening, high-caliber gunshot shattered the freezing air. A lethal, armor-piercing Dust round tore out of the barrel, ripping through the space directly toward Oscar's chest. Ruby screamed. Jaune's eyes widened in sheer horror. Time seemed to freeze. Snatch.

A soft, utterly underwhelming sound of leather rubbing against metal echoed across the tarmac. The Dust bullet did not hit the boy. Saitama was suddenly standing directly in front of Oscar. He hadn't lunged. He hadn't blurred. To everyone watching, it simply looked as if he had always been standing there. Saitama held his right hand up near his face. Pinched perfectly between his red-gloved index finger and thumb, completely uncrushed and totally neutralized, was the smoking, high-velocity Dust bullet.

The entire docking bay fell into a dead, absolute silence. Saitama blinked his dotted eyes at the bullet. He casually flicked his wrist, tossing the lethal projectile over his shoulder where it clattered harmlessly onto the frosted concrete. He let out a long, heavy sigh, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his pristine white trench coat.

"Man," Saitama mumbled, his flat, nasal voice echoing clearly over the howling wind.

"You Atlas people are truly, incredibly annoying." The guard who had fired the shot staggered backward, his knees practically buckling as he stared at the bald man in the bowler hat. He had just watched a civilian pluck a supersonic rifle round out of the air as if he were catching a slow-moving butterfly.

"H-He's an anomaly!" the Sergeant shrieked, sheer panic shattering his military discipline.

"TAKE HIM DOWN!"

"NO, WAIT!" Jaune roared. It was too late. The terrified squad unleashed an absolute, deafening storm of lead and Dust. A torrential wall of automatic gunfire erupted, aimed entirely at the man in the white trench coat. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! Saitama didn't dodge. He didn't even shift his weight. His red-gloved hands became a localized, terrifying blur of sub-atomic motion. He didn't just block the bullets.

He systematically plucked every single projectile out of the air before it could travel more than three feet from the muzzles. The deafening roar of the rifles ceased as the magazines clicked empty. The smoke slowly cleared. Saitama was still standing perfectly still. He opened his hands, letting hundreds of flattened, crushed bullets cascade from his red gloves like a waterfall of loose change. Clatter, clatter, clatter. Saitama looked down at his chest.

His dotted eyes narrowed into sharp, intense lines of profound irritation. A single, tiny puff of gray gunpowder smoke had smudged the lapel of his tailored coat.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Saitama complained, his voice dropping into a dark, terrifyingly annoyed register that made the soldiers' blood run completely cold.

"Do you have any idea how much dry-cleaning costs in this economy? I literally just got this coat washed in Argus!" The Atlesian guards were paralyzed. Their rifles hung uselessly in their trembling hands. They stared at the pile of bullets at his feet, their minds entirely failing to process the utter violation of physics they had just witnessed. Behind Saitama, Team RWBY and Team JNPR stood in breathless, quiet awe.

Even though they knew his capabilities, seeing him casually dismantle a firing squad without shedding a single drop of sweat never ceased to be spectacular. Maria cackled raspy laughter from the ramp, while Neo simply smirked behind her parasol, entirely entertained by her unbothered, invincible meat-shield.

"STAND DOWN!" A sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the tension like a physical blade. The rhythmic, echoing click of high-heeled boots approached from the shadows of the command center. An Atlesian Specialist marched onto the tarmac, her crisp, white-and-blue military uniform immaculate, her silver rapier resting elegantly at her hip. It was Winter Schnee.

"Sergeant, lower your weapons immediately," Winter commanded, her icy blue eyes flashing with absolute authority. But as Winter stepped into the light of the landing pad, her severe expression faltered. She gasped softly, her composure cracking as she took in the sight of the group standing by the Manta. Her eyes darted to Weiss, and then, slowly, locked onto the man standing in front of the bullet casings, wearing a bowler hat and a white trench coat.

"Winter!" Weiss said in relief. Saitama tilted his head, recognizing her face from the administrative parlor back at Beacon Academy.

"Oh, hey, Sword Lady," Saitama greeted casually, raising a red-gloved hand in a lazy wave.

"It's been a while." Winter stared at him, her breath hitching slightly. She looked down at the massive pile of crushed Dust bullets scattered across the concrete, and then back up to the terrified faces of her own guards. The horrifying realization clicked perfectly into place. The guards hadn't just fired at the greatest, unregistered anomaly on the face of Remnant. They had actively opened fire on a group that included her own younger sister.

Winter took a slow, deep breath, forcing her aristocratic, military discipline back to the surface. She turned her head, fixing the Sergeant with a glare so cold it could have frozen the ocean.

"You have exactly ten seconds to get back to your posts," Winter said, her voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper.

"Before I start hurting you." The guards didn't need to be told twice.

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" Said the Sergeant, then turning to the group with other soldiers, giving them salute.

"We're deeply sorry for earlier!" Terrified of Winter's wrath, and entirely unwilling to spend another second near the bullet-catching monster in the bowler hat, the squad frantically saluted, apologized profusely to the air, and sprinted away into the hangar bay. Ruby let out a massive, shuddering sigh of relief, lowering Crescent Rose. Jaune and Ren relaxed their postures, while Neo simply offered a smug, silent chuckle in the background. Winter slowly approached the group.

The cold fury in her eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, genuine layer of exhaustion and regret.

"I apologize," Winter said, bowing her head slightly toward the vanguard.

"I sincerely regret how you were treated by my team upon your arrival. But you must understand... when an unregistered, rogue airship suddenly penetrates our airspace during a kingdom-wide communications blackout, it raises several massive red flags. We assumed the vessel was stolen by hostile insurgents." Qrow rolled his eyes, letting out a sharp, cynical huff as he rested Harbinger on his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, you can blame Ironwood's paranoid, severed network for that. If your tech actually worked, you would have seen our clearance."

"Uh... hehe... actually..." Ruby laughed incredibly awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck as she completely broke eye contact with the Specialist. She adopted a high-pitched, highly apologetic tone.

"We did try to steal an airship first. But then the giant robot showed up, and things got a little messy, so Cordovin just gave us this one!" Winter froze. Her blue eyes widened to their absolute limits, entirely devoid of any humor.

"You stole an Atlas airship?!" Winter practically shrieked, her military composure shattering instantly as she marched directly toward her younger sister.

"Weiss! What were you thinking?! You flew an unauthorized vessel through a hostile, militarized blockade! You might have been shot out of the sky! How unbelievably irresponsib--" Weiss didn't argue. She didn't cross her arms or offer a defiant retort. She stepped forward, throwing her arms around Winter's waist and burying her face tightly into her older sister's uniform.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Weiss whispered softly, her voice thick with genuine emotion and the lingering exhaustion of their impossible journey.

"But we did what we had to do. I'm just glad to see you." Winter's furious rant died instantly in her throat. She stood rigidly for a second, completely caught off guard by the sudden, profound display of affection from the sister who had spent years fighting for her independence. Slowly, the tension melted from Winter's shoulders. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft, trembling sigh, and wrapped her arms around Weiss, returning the hug fiercely.

"I..." Winter murmured, resting her chin on top of Weiss's head.

"I suppose I understand. I am glad you are safe." The heartwarming, sisterly reunion brought soft smiles to the faces of Team RWBY and Team JNPR. However, the moment didn't last long. Winter gently pulled back from the hug, her expression instantly hardening as she turned her piercing glare directly onto the grizzled Huntsman leaning against the Manta.

"But I cannot believe that you allowed this to happen, Qrow," Winter scolded, her voice laced with sharp, professional disapproval.

"Endangering students in a stolen military vessel is reckless, even for you."

"Hey, don't pin this on me, Ice Queen," Qrow defended himself, holding his hands up defensively.

"You try stopping these kids when they have their minds set on something." Qrow's expression turned serious, his crimson eyes locking onto hers.

"Speaking of which... I believe you've been informed by Ironwood that we're arriving. We have some important information regarding the forces gathering in Mantle. Things that are strictly... confidential." Winter's eyes darted briefly toward Oscar and his satchel, understanding the unspoken weight of the Relic they carried. She nodded slowly, smoothing out the front of her uniform as she returned to her pristine, professional stance.

"The General has been waiting for you," Winter announced, turning on her heel and gesturing toward the towering, armored doors of the Atlas command spire.

"Follow me."