A Path To Omniscience

After Asher pointed out all the oddities around them, Weiss settled back into her chair, her expression uneasy.

"Wh- What should we do? Should we call it out?" Her voice was low, uncertainty clear in her tone.

"Don't frown. Just relax, keep smiling, and act casual," Asher instructed.

"We'll wait and see what happens for now." She hesitated but eventually nodded, forcing a more natural expression.

Kobe returned twice over the next twenty minutes. The first time, Asher and Weiss told him they were still deciding. The second, they finally placed their order. Yet, despite that, Kobe never came back to serve them. Instead, just like the other servers, he had been replaced.

It wasn't subtle, either.

Someone who looked eerily similar to Kobe—even mimicking his speech patterns—delivered their food. By now, nearly all the servers had been swapped out with Faunus look-alikes, yet no one else seemed to notice, too engrossed in their own conversations, partners, and food. 

Weiss no longer had any doubts and confusion took its place.

"What's going on?" She muttered, half to herself, half to Asher.

Instead of answering, he asked, "Did you bring your sword?"

She shook her head.

"No... I thought this would just be a normal date." That was starting to feel like a mistake. Asher hadn't expected trouble on a flight like this either, which meant he hadn't arranged for his bodyguards to be onboard. Right now, it was just the two of them.

Narrowing his eyes, he murmured, "I'm not sure yet... but if I had to guess, we're dealing with-"

A sudden, ear-piercing screech blared through the airship's speakers, cutting him off. The sharp noise sent a jolt through the cabin, making diners drop their utensils, spill drinks, and clutch their ears. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Sounds of a struggle erupted through the airship, multiple voices overlapping in frantic shouts.

[Hey, help! Get- Get off of us! Who are you, people-]

The dining area fell into silence as everyone looked up, concerned expressions spreading across the diners' faces. Even the servers paused to listen. Everyone—except Asher. His attention was elsewhere, watching the servers' reactions instead of the ceiling.

That's when he saw it. Some of them smirked. Others remained serious, their gazes sharpening.

Before anyone could even process what was happening, a warning blared.

[Emergency Defense Mode Activated!]

Without warning, heavy metal shutters slammed down over the windows, cutting off any view of the outside. The bright ceiling lights shifted to a deep red.

At the same moment, the servers ripped off their uniforms, revealing another set underneath—black and white, muted yet distinct. Then came the masks.

There was no mistaking it.

The White Fang.

Once a Faunus rights organization, now a full-fledged terrorist group. Their masks—mostly white, menacing, intentionally crafted to resemble the creatures of Grimm—symbolized their philosophy. If humanity was going to treat Faunus like monsters no matter what, then they would be monsters.

That was the White Fang of today.

"Of course, it's the White Fang—those dirty bastards!" The moment she recognized them, Weiss's concern twisted into fury. Her expression tightened as she pushed back her chair, ready to stand.

Before she could, Asher moved. He rose just slightly, grabbing her arm and stopping her.

"What are you doing?" Her glare shifted to him, but Asher only shook his head.

"Too many potential casualties," he muttered, nodding toward the White Fang members now flooding into the dining area. They carried weapons. Not only that, but ones that had been hidden among the servers, were now being passed firearms.

The initial shock gripping the diners cracked the moment they saw the guns. 

Some diners panicked, jumping to their feet, while others looked like they were about to protest. But before anyone could say a word, one of the previously disguised servers raised his gun and fired into the ceiling.

The gunshot echoed through the sealed dining room, cutting through the emergency sirens that were bathing the scene in red light.

Instantly, all movement ceased.

"Nobody moves!" The gunman's voice carried through the room.

"This airship is now under the control of the White Fang! If any of you Atlas elitists so much as make a peep, we won't hesitate to shoot you on the spot. It'd be what you deserve anyway." At that moment, everyone in the dining hall became a hostage.

Without a weapon, even if Weiss could take them all they wouldn't hesitate to fire on her the second she tried. And if that happened, the other diners would be caught in the crossfire.

She bit her lip, her frustration clear, but slowly eased back into her seat.

Asher released her arm and sat back down as well, listening as she muttered, "So what do we do? Just let them have their way?"

"Considering they're taking control of the airship instead of just robbing us, they want hostages." The reasoning could vary. Maybe they wanted the airship itself. As a terrorist organization, the White Fang was always in need of assets, and an airship like this would be a major boost to their operations.

But Asher had a different suspicion.

A mass ransom.

With so many of Atlas's elite onboard, the hostages served two purposes—a human shield to deter military retaliation and a golden goose they could trade for resources.

But… there was always the worst-case scenario.

Live, public executions. It depended on which branch of the White Fang they were dealing with. Some were radical enough to take things that far.

And if they were that type, then no one's safety was guaranteed if this dragged on too long.

Asher leaned in, whispering to Weiss, "For now, just play along. Act like a hostage and give them what they want. They'll probably gather everyone in one place—that's when we'll make our move."

"Right," Weiss murmured, listening closely.

Meanwhile, across the room, one of the White Fang members who had been posing as a server approached another who had just finished distributing weapons.

"Where's the Commander?" He asked.

"On the bridge with the rest of the team, making sure they didn't miss any crew members," the other replied.

"He told me to tell you to start rounding up the hostages. Take anything valuable, and make sure they don't have a way to call for help. It'll take some time before anyone realizes this ship is off course—we need that window to reach the drop point before the Atlas Military catches on."

His tone grew sharper.

"We only get one shot at this."

The first White Fang member gave a firm nod.

"Right. Let's get started." With a sharp whistle and a hand gesture, he signaled the others in the dining hall to begin securing and searching the hostages. Meanwhile, the one who had been passing out weapons slipped away, heading deeper into the airship.

Under the threat of guns, none of the diners dared resist—at least not openly. The White Fang worked in pairs, each duo carrying a bag—one to collect valuables, the other for scrolls.

"That necklace of yours looks nice… put it in the bag," one of the terrorists said, gesturing to a woman seated beside her husband.

"You… you can't-" She stammered. A sharp click cut her off. The White Fang member resting a hand on his gun narrowed his eyes.

"Can't what? Speak up."

Her husband, sitting across from her, clenched the armrest of his chair, grinding his teeth.

"Dirty Faunus… I hope you don't think you'll get away with this. When the Atlas Military finds out-" The second White Fang member scoffed, shaking his head.

"Lucky for us, they won't. Not until it's too late. Now, hand over your scroll." The husband hesitated, but after a tense pause, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his scroll, and dropped it into the bag held out in front of him. Across from him, his wife, seeing no other option, slowly removed her pearl necklace and handed it over.

"Good. Round these two up and take them to the cold room," one of the White Fang members ordered.

After a quick pat-down to ensure neither of them was hiding another scroll or anything valuable, the pair were pulled to their feet and led away. 

As the White Fang worked in pairs, moving from table to table, Asher and Weiss sat watching. Weiss kept her composure, but it was clear she wanted nothing more than to put an end to this right now.

Soon enough, a pair made their way to their table. The moment they spotted Weiss's white hair, both of them froze. Their eyes widened in recognition.

Then, one of them chuckled, his amusement growing as he approached. Turning to face Weiss fully, he let out a low laugh.

"Well, well… would you look at this? A Schnee. And not just any Schnee—the heiress herself." He shook his head, grinning.

"I heard you were on the list, but I didn't actually believe it." With a sudden slam, he brought his hand down on the table, shaking everything. Asher and Weiss's glasses toppled over, spilling their contents across the tablecloth.

"Tell me something, princess. Do you have any idea how high the injury rate is for Faunus working in your father's company?" His voice was sharp, bitter.

"Because I do. It's pretty damn high. In fact, plenty of us have lost an eye thanks to his cost-cutting and blatant disregard for safety. You think we get eyewear protection working in those mines?" He reached up and tugged his mask aside, revealing a jagged scar—lightning-shaped—stretching from his cheek to the top of his skull. No hair grew along its path, and it ran straight through his eye, which was still charred shut.

Weiss's gaze flickered to the wound for just a moment before she folded her arms and crossed her legs.

"I'm not my father," she said coolly.

"If you have a problem with him, take it up with him." The White Fang member scoffed.

"As if you don't benefit from everything he does. You and your whole damn family." His voice darkened.

"Oh no… you don't get to play innocent, princess. We've got something special planned for you. Don't doubt it for a second." Then his eyes drifted to her ears.

"But for now… hand over those earrings. They look nice." He reached for them. Weiss's expression darkened. Her hand snapped up, slapping his away without hesitation.

"Don't put your filthy hands anywhere near me," she spat, disgust clear in her voice. Without another word, she pulled off the earrings herself and tossed them into the bag. Then, reaching into her pocket, she retrieved her scroll and threw it onto the table for the other White Fang member to collect.

The scarred man reeled slightly, more out of surprise than pain. Then his expression twisted into something darker. His eyes burned with rage as he raised his hand.

"You fucking bi-" A firm grip caught his arm. His partner leaned in, voice low.

"We're not supposed to harm the hostages. We need them as shields. If they're already beaten, they lose that value. Hold it in… for now." The scarred Faunus's jaw clenched behind his mask. His body remained tense for a long second before he finally exhaled, lowering his hand.

"You got lucky," he muttered. Weiss didn't flinch. She simply glared back, her icy stare unwavering.

After that, his partner turned his attention to Asher.

"Give me your scroll." Asher, who had been watching the entire exchange with a passive expression, pulled his hands from his pockets and raised them slightly.

"I don't have one." The White Fang member let out a short chuckle.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"You can search me if you want. The only thing valuable I have on me is this watch." Asher calmly undid the watch from his wrist and handed it over.

Narrowing his eyes, the White Fang member took the watch, tossed it into his partner's bag, then proceeded with the search himself. He checked Asher's hands, each pocket, inside and outside his clothing—even glanced at the floor, as if expecting to find a scroll hidden nearby.

But there was nothing.

Weiss watched with a flicker of suppressed surprise.

He definitely had his scroll when we boarded… did he manage to hide it somehow?

"Huh. Fine, then," the White Fang member finally relented. With a gesture, he signaled to the others that these two had been searched before moving on. As they left, the scarred Faunus shot Weiss a final glare, full of resentment.

Not long after, just like the other tables, a White Fang member approached and tied Asher and Weiss's hands before ushering them out of the dining hall. The airship's lockdown had sealed all exits and windows, the alarms still blaring as they were marched down the dimly lit hallway.

Eventually, they reached the kitchen.

Their escort led them to the back, nodding toward the cold room—a walk-in refrigerator. Standing guard at the door were two armed White Fang members with pistols, while a third inside the room held a rifle, watching over the hostages.

"Get in," their captor ordered before shoving them inside.

As they sat with the rest of the prisoners, Asher subtly scanned the room, mentally counting the number of people crammed into the freezing space. Then his gaze shifted to the guards. The lights were off, casting deep shadows, save for the dull red glow of the emergency lighting.

Using the sound of the alarm to mask her words, Weiss whispered, "Now?"

Asher shook his head.

"Almost. Six more people to go." It only took another ten to twenty minutes before the remaining six diners were escorted in.

The cold room wasn't just a holding cell. Even with the door open, the chilled air was enough to sap strength. A perfect way to keep hostages subdued, especially when their numbers threatened to rival their captors'.

"Alright, that's the last of them. We're already en route to the drop point, so keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't try anything," the White Fang member who delivered the last group instructed the guards.

"Yeah, we got it," one of them answered.

With that, the White Fang operative nodded and exited, leaving the three guards behind.

Both Asher and Weiss immediately locked onto the rifle-armed member inside the cold room.

Asher's brow furrowed slightly.

"Wait…" His eyes followed the terrorist's movements. Eventually, the guard shivered, rubbing his arms as he took one hand off his rifle.

"Man, I would've gotten a long-sleeved uniform if I knew I'd be stuck in a fridge for over an hour," he muttered, shaking his head as another chill went through him.

"Now," Asher muttered under his breath. Weiss sprang into action the instant she heard him like a coil finally released. Leaping to her feet despite her bound arms, she moved faster than the White Fang guard could react.

He scrambled for his rifle, jerking it up to aim-

Too late.

Darting right, she launched herself off the cold room wall, using the momentum to propel straight at him. Her foot connected squarely with his face, sending him flying. He crashed into the opposite wall, knocking over shelves of frozen goods before slumping unconscious beneath the pile.

The other hostages sat frozen in shock, barely processing what had just happened. Outside the cold room, the two remaining guards turned at the sound of the commotion.

"What the hell? How did you-" Before he even finished, his hand shot for his gun.

But, Weiss was already on him.

Her hair whipped behind her as she closed the distance in an instant, ducking low. Before he could fire, she swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, his face bouncing off the floor with a sharp crack.

The second guard reacted faster, his pistol already raised. Unlike his partner, he had the barrel trained directly at Weiss's head.

He fired.

Weiss weaved left, the bullet slicing past her cheek. Another shot rang out—she ducked right, narrowly avoiding it. Before he could pull the trigger a third time, she jumped.

Her leg arced cleanly through the air, striking him under the chin with bone-rattling force. His head snapped back. The impact sent him airborne for a split second before he crumpled to the floor.

Behind her, a sharp groan broke the silence.

"Agh… damn you!" The first guard, the one she had knocked down, was still conscious. Blood dripping from his nose, he pressed a hand to his face while his other arm swung up, pistol gripped tight.

Weiss glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing.

The moment he fired, she leaped.

The bullet ricocheted off a metal shelf as she twisted midair, her body flipping with practiced precision. Then she came down.

Hard.

Her foot slammed between his shoulder blades, driving the air from his lungs. The impact forced him flat against the floor, gasping for breath. A second later, she pivoted, raising her other foot and stomping the back of his head. His body jerked once before going limp, his face a bloodied mess against the ground.

"Hmph." With a sharp pull, Weiss snapped the bindings around her wrists, the rope stretching before finally giving way.

As Weiss stepped back into the cold room, Asher stood up casually, stretching slightly.

"Looks like all our dueling really helped you improve when it comes to fighting without a weapon," he remarked.

"You mean because you kept cheating and disarming me?" Weiss shot back, rubbing her wrist.

"All's fair in love and war," Asher said with a smirk. Weiss walked over, ready to undo his bindings, but he shook his head.

"No need." With the same ease as her, he broke through his restraints, snapping the rope with sheer force. Weiss blinked in mild confusion—until Asher took off his jacket. Beneath it, his vest and shirt covered something more.

Her eyes narrowed as she finally noticed it. He was wearing the O.M.N.I. Frame under all his clothes.

"You… you wore that on our date?" She muttered, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"How did I not notice?"Asher shrugged.

"I thought you might want to spar at some point. Best to be prepared, right?" Reaching into his jacket, he took out the O.M.N.I. Frame's visors and put them on. Of course, the truth was a little different than what he said. He had the O.M.N.I. Frame stored in the Nexus Space, not because he anticipated something like this, but because he had been working on it before their date.

As he reached into the jacket one more time he discreetly pulled his scroll from the Nexus Space as well, making it seem as if he had retrieved it from his pocket. He had hidden it the moment he realized the White Fang planned to keep this hijacking quiet.

A shaky voice suddenly broke through the moment.

"You… you're Weiss Schnee. Jacques's daughter." One of the hostages—visibly shivering, whether from the cold or the gunfire—stared at her.

"Right… I saw her when we boarded," another muttered.

"I heard she was training to become a Huntress," someone else added. A ripple of relief swept through the crowd.

"Oh, thank goodness, you saved us!" Soft cheers, sighs of relief, and murmured thanks filled the cold room. For a moment, Weiss just stared at them. These were the same kind of people who did business with her father. The ones who always looked past her, as if she was nothing more than a name, a connection, or a title.

She had never expected to hear them thanking her like this.

Well… I guess it doesn't feel too bad.

As that thought crossed her mind, Asher suddenly pointed to two hostages.

"Untie these two," he said.

"They're wearing the thickest clothes, so they aren't as cold as the others." Then, without another word, he started tapping away on his scroll. Weiss didn't question him and got to work untying them.

As she did, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Texting your brother and Lionel, letting them know what's happening." Asher's fingers moved quickly across the screen.

"The White Fang must have been planning this for a while. The fact that the police and military haven't responded means they're jamming the emergency signal an airship like this should have. That also means they have people outside suppressing information." His mind drifted back to what the scarred White Fang member had said about a list.

"If I had to guess, the Faunus at the reception desk gave the signal. She wasn't checking us into the restaurant—she was taking note of who they had as hostages and sending that list to the others. They also mentioned a drop-off point, which means they probably don't plan to escape using the airship alone. They have people waiting for them somewhere outside of Atlas." By the time he finished typing, Weiss had freed the second hostage.

Without hesitation, Asher tossed his scroll to one of them. The man fumbled before catching it, blinking in surprise.

"Huh?" He looked from the scroll up to Asher, confused.

"The two of you start untying the others. Call the police, then alert the Atlas Military," Asher instructed before turning his gaze to the rest of the hostages, raising his voice slightly.

"I'm sure plenty of you have connections to people who want to keep you safe. Use my scroll. Call them. Call all of them. The more people who know what's happening, the better our chances of being rescued before they get us too far from Atlas." The two freed hostages exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Right."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the cold room. Weiss and Asher might have been kids, but one of those kids had just taken down three armed terrorists. No one was in a position to argue.

"But what about you two?" An older woman asked hesitantly.

Weiss turned to her with a small smile.

"Don't worry. We're going to take care of the rest of the ones who took over the airship. Just stay in the kitchen and bar the doors." With that, Weiss and Asher stepped out of the cold room and into the kitchen.

As they walked, Asher glanced over just in time to see Weiss bend down, slip off her shoes, and toss them aside.

She caught his look.

"I can't fight in these. They're not made for combat like my usual boots or heels. Better off barefoot." Asher smirked slightly.

"No combat skirt this time either." Weiss rolled her eyes.

"I'll manage." Her gaze shifted to a metal shelf nearby. Reaching for one of its legs, she gripped it firmly and yanked, tearing it free from its screws. Holding it in one hand, she gave it a few test swings before exhaling through her nose.

"Completely off balance," she muttered.

"But it'll have to do." Asher nodded.

"Good. Now let's see if we can wrap this up before help arrives."