The following is a non-profit, fan-made work of fiction. RWBY and Iron Man are the respective trademarked properties of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC and Marvel Entertainment, LLC. Please support their respective franchises and releases. This means I own jack, so don't sue me, it's all for fun. (And practice, I just wanna be a better writer.)

This chapter is dedicated to Stan Lee, who taught us that heroes can come from even the most unlikely of places. You'll always be the man, Stan. Excelsior!

The Invincible Whitley Schnee

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Has Everything and Nothing

Atlas, April 23rd, 2008 KC (Kingdom Calendar)

5:00 PM

The city of Atlas is known for many things. Even before being established as the kingdom's capital, the city already served as host to many corporations and institutions. In the center of the city stood Atlas Academy, formerly known as Alsius, the military's nerve center and school for prospective specialists. Then there was the financial district, where the global headquarters of organizations like the Schnee Dust Company and Hammer Industries call home. But in the northern part of the city, there stood another institution that was equally as important: The Atlas Technology Institute, the kingdom's premier research university, and the place where the greatest minds in Remnant would go if they wanted to find their future, all the while advancing the sciences and technology of the world to newer heights.

To put it symbolically; if Atlas were a body, its Academy would be its heart, the financial district were the veins through which precious blood was pumped, and ATI was the brain that endlessly thought up how the body would function and improve itself. But if you asked certain people, they would say that the academy or the businesses were all of the above. Time has not been kind to the reputation of ATI, as more attention was devoted to training the future defenders of Atlas or building up the companies that keep the kingdom's economy running.

The university itself was big, not as vast as Atlas Academy, but it still maintained a great presence within the kingdom. What many found interesting about the campus was its design that they have described as a literal record of Atlesian progress. There were labs and lectures halls built before the Great War, designed with a brick-layered architecture. Further extensions to the campus had structures that were designed and built according to the stylistic aesthetic of the era they were built, utilizing the latest construction methods and technologies available at the time. Yes, a day on this campus is always guaranteed to be amazing. But today is special.

It is Graduation Day at the Atlas Technology Institute.

The ceremony was being held at the Nicholas Schnee Memorial Stadium. The decision to hold the ceremony there was made on account of the clear weather. Indeed, there was nary a cloud in sight, offering an unobstructed view of the clear blue sky. Such a sight is rare in Atlas, as the kingdom was infamous for its near-endless snowstorms.

Though it wasn't snowing, the stadium's field still had vast patches of white. Dressed in their pristine white graduation gowns, hundreds of students sat in meticulously organized rows of chairs before a grand stage, where their various professors sat. These students are nervous and excited, and it showed on their faces, and they could be seen on the very large Wombotron screen. Sitting high in the stadium's stands are the relatives and friends of these students, chatting idly amongst each other as they wait for the ceremony to begin. These people come from various backgrounds, from simple Dust miners to senior executives of the Schnee Dust Company. They were all different, yet share a common interest: to celebrate the rise of the next generation of Atlas' elite.

Among this sea of respectful spectators sat a middle-aged redheaded woman dressed in an immaculately pressed violet business suit. Despite her age, she still looks to be in her early thirties, the result of keeping herself in shape through strenuous exercise. She is unique in that she was sitting in a reserved section, one that was set aside for a group of people connected to one of the most influential businessmen in all of Remnant, Jacques Schnee. This woman is Pepper Potts, Jacques Schnee's personal assistant.

Despite her low-tier status, she actually held some considerable influence in the company. This influence extends before working as the assistant to the current head of the SDC; she was once a rising star in the company during the reign of its founder, Nicholas Schnee. For a time, many believed that she had a future as a board member, maybe even as Nick's successor later in her life. It helped that she was a close friend of the man's daughter, Willow. Instead, she became an overpaid secretary to the current CEO, Jacques Schnee, who had been her biggest rival at the time.

When people ask her what duties her position entails, she would tell them the following: She filed reports, answered scroll calls, organized meetings, occasionally took out the garbage, and always ensured that the man's clients were on the level. Those are her official duties. Unofficially, she is essentially an unpaid babysitter to the man's only son, Whitley (not that she minded, considering she is Godmother to all of Willow's children). Unfortunately, she has had quite the challenge in looking after the boy. Jacques Schnee was a cold, manipulative, amoral man devoid of empathy and his son was well on the track to becoming another mini-Jacques. She has tried her best to steer Willow's son from that path, but Jacques' influence is beginning to take hold; especially now that the boy's sister is heading to Beacon Academy to be trained as a huntress.

The only thing that differentiates Whitley from his father was the boy's intelligence. Jacques was no slouch intellectually, but the man was hopeless when it came to the finer nuances of quantum computing and mechanical engineering. To put it simply, the boy was a veritable scientific prodigy. At the age of four, the boy built his first circuit board. Then, at age six, he built two robotic assistants. Then at Age 9, he created the world's first fully self-aware AI, which he kept a secret from everybody except her and Happy. He was also the youngest graduate of the highly renowned Baxter Foundation, having learned under great scientists such as Reed Richards, Bill Foster, and the long-disgraced Arthur Watts. Today, he would add another achievement to his still-growing list of achievements.

Whitley Schnee was graduating summa cum laude from the Atlas Technology Institute, and as the youngest person to have ever done so. The only other person who could have accomplished such a feat at that age would have been the boy's grandmother, Antoinette "Toni" Stark-Schnee. Many people these days forget that while Nicholas Schnee did have the drive and ambition to build the Schnee Dust Company, his wife, Toni, was the person to thank for the company's expansion, as her technology helped catapult the then-fledgling company to heights greater than even he imagined. It was a safe bet that their grandson has also inherited the Stark-Smarts.

And maybe that signature snark that comes with it. She thinks nostalgically, remembering the fiery old woman's sharp tongue.

She adjusts the camera on her Scroll, trying to get a better view on the stage where Whitley will deliver his speech. As the boy's primary caregiver, it was her role to attend all the biggest events in his life. She felt giddy and excited, as though she were a pot bursting with joy that was ready to blow.

I wonder if this is what being a parent feels like? She wonders.

The sound of shuffling feet and short whispers of "Excuse Me" or "Sorry" cuts her thoughts short. She feels a strong weight settle down next to her and she looks to her side. Sitting next to her, munching on some popcorn, is the boy's bodyguard and her fiancé, Harold "Happy" Hogan. Happy is a burly, black-haired, broad-shouldered man, dressed in a fine black business suit, with a face that always seems to be set in a semi-permanent frown (Hence the ironic nickname). One look at him and one would think that he hates his job, but truthfully it is the best work he has ever had. How does Pepper know this? It is because they were able to meet each other. It is Pepper's hope that she would be able to feel true parental pride with Happy in the future, should they ever decide to have kids. For now, attending Whitley's college graduation would make for a wonderful substitute.

"Has he gone on yet?" Happy asks before chewing on some popped kernel.

Pepper sighs, "Not yet, they haven't. The ceremony hasn't even started yet."

"Of course it hasn't. You'd think since Atlesians pride themselves on efficiency, they would have found a way to make these things shorter." He snorts.

"Well, I'm glad I got to wait. Gave me time to think," She counters, before leaning on his shoulder. "Like how I was just thinking this would make great practice for when we have our own little college graduate."

Happy nearly choked on his corn at that remark. Pepper tittered into her hand, so as not to disturb the other spectators. Despite being in their mid-forties, their relationship resembles more a high school couple than soon-to-be spouses. Even at their age, Pepper could still make him stutter like he was still a lovelorn teenager. It's cute in her opinion.

Happy breathes in and exhales. "Don't do that again."

Deciding to change the subject, Pepper asks, "You've seen Rhodey anywhere?"

"No, but he did call. Couldn't make it he says, he's at his niece's graduation down at Globe Academy." He explains.

"Ciel's graduating? Wow, I haven't seen that girl in a while." Pepper said amazed, before wondering aloud, "How time flies. To think that the little girl who would try to march around in her uncle's boots is gonna become a Huntress."

"Specialist, honey, SPECIALIST," Happy reminds her, using the official title given to Atlas Graduate.

"Specialists, right. Of course, Oh, how silly of me," She grouses distastefully.

Pepper has never approved of the council's decision to merge Alsius Academy with the military, back during the Kingdom's administration transitioned from Mantle to Atlas. Being the daughter of a Huntsman, she was raised under the belief that Huntsman and Huntresses should be protecting all of Remnant's people, not exclusively one of its kingdoms. By having specially-trained and Aura-empowered warriors part of their armed forces, Atlas was effectively building up what is essentially an army of super-soldiers.

But, then again, that is far from the worst decision they've ever made. Pepper concedes, recalling the council's stances on certain issues.

She can save the politics for later. Right now, she should just focus on watching what is shaping to be the proudest moment of her godson's life.

"Anyway, is there anything else I need to know?" She asks.

Happy replies, "Actually, yeah. Obie and Whitney are here too. Whitley's not the only one graduating, remember?"

Of course, she hasn't forgotten. Not only is the youngest Schnee graduating, but also Ezekiel Stane, Obadiah's eldest and only son. Other than Whitley's late grandmother, Ezekiel, or "Zeke" as everyone called him, was the only other person who can match the boy in scientific prowess and potential. At the age of 17, Zeke would have been the youngest ATI graduate if the Schnee had not been a student. In fact, he was set to graduate last year, but circumstances had prevented him from finishing his final semester.

Pepper frowns, recalling the tragic events of the previous year. While Zeke was vacationing with his family in Vacuo, the White Fang attacked the resort they were staying at, killing as many humans as they could. Zeke was paralyzed during the attack, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. But it wasn't the loss of his legs that cost him his graduation, he could live without them. But he did lose something of greater value.

Among those killed in the attack was his mother.

The loss of Juliet Stane was a blow to everyone who knew her, especially her husband and children. Obadiah buried himself in his work, barely spending time with his children as they grieved. His sister, once a lively and sociable young lady, was traumatized by the experience, often enduring crippling anxiety attacks when in a large crowd. But of them all, it was Ezekiel who had suffered the most. The loss of his mother, exacerbated by his paralysis, sent the boy into a catatonic state of depression. For months, the boy would barely acknowledge the world around him, barely uttering a word and being fed by nurses. It wasn't until he finally received the help he truly needed that he began to recover. Slowly, but surely, the family was healing. But the wounds were still fresh.

Speaking of family, shouldn't there be a certain one sitting with us? Pepper thinks.

"Have you heard anything from the guests of honor?" She asks Happy with a worried frown.

Happy frowns and speaks, "Not directly, no. Ironwood says that Winter's in Mistral, on a classified mission." Pepper thought that was a valid excuse.

He continues, "Weiss is preparing for her trip to Vale. You know, Beacon's Entrance Exam?"

"But the Exam's not until June, why would she leave now?!" Pepper asks indignantly.

"She apparently wants to "familiarize" herself with the kingdom before the first semester begins. She says she wants to prove that she can make it on her own." Happy calmly explains.

More like she wants to get as far away from Jacques-ass as possible! Pepper internally fumes. Not that I blame her. I've known the man for close to thirty years and I wanted to deck him the first minute we met. Still, Weiss could have had the decency to be here for her brother.

"Okay, what about Willow?" She deigns to ask.

Happy sighs, "Currently in her bedroom, nursing one hell of a hangover… again."

Pepper sighs despondently. She was disappointed in what her friend has become. When she first met Willow Schnee, she was quite the vivacious woman. She had dreams of traveling the world and living life to the fullest, unshackled by the responsibilities of being the heiress to one of Remnant's most influential companies. They were thick as thieves as well, and were quite the pair of hell raisers. Then she married Jacques Schnee. No explanation needed for what happened next.

"And what about the oh-so exalted Jacques Schnee?" She sneers. She may work for the man, but she didn't have to like him and with good reason in her opinion.

Happy frowns, "Important Business Meeting. One he can't afford to miss."

"…I see." Pepper simply states.

Outwardly, the woman seemed as calm as she can be. Internally, however, a violent storm of anger was swelling within her very being. Winter and Weiss not coming she could understand. Willow being too hungover to even crawl out of bed, It was a terrible reason, but she could understand. But who, in the name of the gods, did Jacques Schnee think he is?! Out of everyone in the entire Schnee family, she thought Jacques would have been the one to actually show up. Just what kind of meeting was he in that would warrant him to miss him out on his only son's graduation?!

Settle down, Pep. Today is not about Jacques. She calmly reminds herself.

She can save the drama for later. Today is meant to be a happy occasion. She and Happy were here and that was good enough for her godson. Though she hoped Whitley wouldn't notice.

"Attention, Attention! It is now time for the ceremony to begin. We thank you for coming out today, on this most beautiful April evening, to celebrate the accomplishment of these remarkable young people. Welcome to the graduation ceremony for the class of '08!" A very obnoxious voice declared over the stadium's speakers.

She and Happy joined the other seated guests in applauding. Directing their attention to the large video display, they watch in anticipation as an elderly and finely-dressed man approached the stage on the field. "Now, let us welcome the President of the University, who will open our ceremony with some final words of encouragement for our outgoing students!"

More applause erupts, which the school administrator seemed to relish in, if the large grin were anything to go by. He ascends up the stairs then strolls across the stage to his podium, which is situated next to a row of tables where the student's diplomas laid. The audience sat in silence. The man tapped the microphone, testing to see if it is carrying over the speaker system. He is rewarded with the sounds of loud, muffled taps reverberating through the speakers.

He leaned and begins to speak. Before he could, he snaps his fingers, as though he was just remembered something. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out flash cards. It was a lot of flash cards, a stack thick enough to be a miniature book.

He read the first card, "Welcome parents, friends, and colleagues alike. I am honored to be standing here today to help these remarkable young people one last time. My students, today marks an important occasion, perhaps the most significant one of your lives-"

He shuffles to the second card. Pepper couldn't help but groan. Maybe Happy has a point.

"You are now at a crossroads. After you exit those hallowed halls as students for the last time, it will be up to you to decide what path you'll take. In fact, allow me to tell a story of one of our proud alumni to inspire-"

He shuffles a card, "You. That student is none other than me. Close to forty years ago today, I sat where you are now sitting…"

The students sat in silence as the old man delivered his speech. Some were sitting in rapt attention, unblinking and trying to absorb as much as they can hear. Most were nodding off, trying to stay awake long enough for the moment they receive their degrees. There were a few who did fall asleep, having already spent a considerable amount of time waiting for the ceremony to begin. But one student is not listening, idling about, or sleeping. He is looking over the stadium, searching for his family.

Sitting among his classmates, Whitley Schnee pretended to listen to the dean of his soon-to-be alma mater. By his calculations, the man should be on stage for close to twenty minutes, if the big stack of flash cards were any clue. In his opinion, the old man was giving what he thought was perhaps the second longest speech he has ever heard in his life. The honor of "longest speech ever" went to his mother. He heard it at his older sister's tenth birthday party, during one incredibly foulmouthed, alcohol-fueled rant directed at his father.

His leg was shaking from combined boredom and anticipation. He wondered if anyone else was even listening at this point. Curious, he turned his head slightly to his right and looked at his friend Ezekiel "Zeke" Stane. The blonde-haired teenager is seated right beside him; dressed in the same white graduation robes he is wearing, sitting in the same wheel-chair he has had since the boy lost use of his legs. His friend seems to have fallen into the thrall of the sandman, if his closed eyes and slouched shoulders were anything to go by. To Whitley's amusement, he has what looks to be a snot bubble, inflating than deflating with each snore, hanging from his nose.

He nudges the boy awake. Zeke wakes with a jolt and glared at Him, saying, "Why'd you do that? I was finally getting some sleep after all those exams."

Whitley smirks. "The ceremony is about to begin. I Just wanted you awake to witness my glorious speech."

"Oh, yes, how could I forget? I can practically feel my legs tremble in anticipation." Zeke dryly remarks.

"I know, right? I wrote it last night in under ten minutes. I mean the president wanted to give his speech first, and we compromised to have mine end the cere-" Whitley did a double-take, and looks at his friend's legs. "B-but you can't feel anything in your legs."

"That's how excited I am to hear your speech." The wheelchair-bound boy finally admitted.

The Schnee pouted and crossed his arms. "I suppose you thought that was cute?"

Zeke chuckles and gives the boy a cheeky half-grin. "Cute? Bitch, please. I think I'm adorable."

"You're 17, far too old to be considered adorable." Whitley Shot back.

"Alright, alright, alright- Fine, I take it back. Gods, learn to take a joke, you grump." Zeke teased.

It wasn't that Whitley couldn't take the joke. In fact, he thought it was rather funny. His friend often uses humor to relieve a tense situation. But he doesn't feel tense at all, far from it. He feels all sorts of emotions, ranging from anticipation and all the way down to uneasiness. How could he not feel like that? Today is the beginning of the rest of his life, as well as those of his classmates. And just like his fellow soon-to-be graduates, he's feeling a little uneasy about leaving what has essentially been their home for the last few years.

He reminds himself that he shouldn't be afraid. He must never show fear. Fear implies weakness, and weakness is a trait of the common people. Schnees were not commoners, they stood above them and proudly so. His father taught him that. It is one of the many lessons that he and his sisters were given, though unlike them, he has actually retained them.

But the one emotion he could feel is satisfaction. A true Schnee doesn't give in to fear, as it leads to defeat. Instead, they should relish in their victories, as it was their gods-given right to do so. Right now, he has accomplished something that was considered impossible for most people his age. He is graduating from college at the age of fifteen, and summa cum laude at that. He has every right to feel satisfied.

And he, sure as hell, was going to make sure everybody knows it, which is why he has reserved seats for his whole family in the stands. He even invited Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey. He owed those three that much, considering they've each played an important role in his life. There was no need to invite the Stane family, considering they would've been here just for Zeke.

He takes another glance around the stadium, trying to find the section where his family should be seated. As he searches, he listens in on the president's speech, so that he'll know when the time came for his name to be called. He is supposed to give his own speech after every student received their degrees.

"…And that is the story of how I became president of this honored institution. I know that many of you are wondering why I am telling you all this. It is because I know what lies ahead of you. As I mentioned before, it will be up to you how you would use what you've learned here…"

And I intend to use what I've learned to reach the top! Whitley smugly thought.

No matter where he went in life, Whitley Schnee was going to be on top, period. He will prove to everyone that he was the only one worthy of inheriting the SDC. He deserves that right, being the only one of Jacques Schnee's not to have abandoned their family. Their father had done everything in his power to give them the life they have. How did his oldest sister, Winter, repay him? She left and joined the military, abandoning her own family to indulge her selfish interests. She deserved to be disowned in his opinion.

Good riddance! He sneered.

With Winter's departure, the inheritance fell onto their sister, Weiss. He couldn't help but snarl, just the mere mention of that name was enough to upset him. Oh, Weiss, she is so perfect! She has our mother's beauty! She has the voice of an angel! She's so poised in her sword technique, moving with the grace of a ballerina! You must be so proud to be her brother, Whitley, don't you think?!

In his opinion, Winter and Weiss should be proud to be his sisters, since he's faced more adversity than them. He didn't have Aura, their familial Semblance, or their sword fighting prowess. He has spent his entire life trying to get out of their shadows. He wasn't athletic like them, so he chose to build his intellect rather than his muscles. He couldn't swing swords like them, so he learned how to forge one (And how to turn it into a gun too!). He didn't have Weiss' angelic voice, so he learned to play instruments instead.

But at the end of the day, he was still in their shadows. If this were a competition, his sisters would be the gold medalists. As for him, well, he was the bronze. The one nobody even cares to acknowledge, let alone care for at all. Even his mother won't give him the time or the day. The only relative to have ever believed in him was his Grandma Toni. He was…

He didn't know what he was to his family. He was the most accomplished of his father's children, yet he is treated as nothing but an outsider. He could feel tears starting to form in his eyes, which he quickly wiped away before they could fall. He will show no weakness. He is the son of Jacques Schnee and that alone was something to be proud of.

And he knew full well that his father was proud of him right now.

Deciding that he would have a better view from the stage, he ceased his impromptu search. To his relief, the old man was finally finishing his speech. He listened intently, trying to show that he had been listening the entire time.

"And so, it is with great pleasure that I now hand to you your diplomas. When I call your name, please come to the stage and take your degree." The old man spoke, shuffling his cards back into the jacket.

He took the first diploma and announced, "Aaronson, Aaron A."

A round of applause erupted for the named student, who immediately rose up and started strolling toward the stage. On the Wombotron, everyone saw his smiling face as he approached. As soon as he reached the stage, he took his diploma, exchanged some words with the president, and shook his hand. He promptly left the stage to return to his seat.

"Aakster, Maggie P." Another student rose to take her diploma.

"Amber, Ashley." Another student rose. For each name called, a student would come to the stage, and repeat what their classmates did. There were nearly one-thousand students in attendance and there were no absences. It gave Whitley time to compose himself. He straightened his tie, hoping that no one would notice.

Someone noticed. "You seem more nervous now than before."

Looking to Zeke, Whitley replies quickly. "I'm not nervous, I'm just excited. I just wanna look my best."

"Then why are you sweating?" Zeke remarks with a raised eyebrow.

Whitley's eyes widened. He swipes his hand across his forehead and feels… nothing.

He hears a small snort that soon turns into muffled chuckling. Zeke got him again. Unlike last time, Whitley decides to join in the laughter, hiding his own behind his fist. The boy speaks, "Okay, I'll give you this one."

Upon hearing that, Zeke fist-pumps, declaring, "Yes! I finally got Whitley Schnee to laugh; my college bucket list is complete."

He's certainly excited, more so than I am. Whitley wouldn't admit it, but he is feeling nervous. All that bluster about not showing weakness, and here he was, shaking in his shoes. Zeke, despite his terrible prank (terrible in the sense that it was not very clever and pretty juvenile) did calm him down. There really is nothing like the healing power of laughter.

The president has reached the H's. Soon both he and Zeke will be called up. After that, all that remained was waiting out the rest of the names. After that, Whitley will give his own speech. Minutes pass by, as each name in every successive letter of the alphabet is called out. Finally, the old man reaches the letter S.

After a few names, the old man calls out "Schnee, Whitley."

Whitley rises from his seat, with Zeke giving him an encouraging smile. His action is greeted with thunderous applause, the loudest received for a student thus far. He knew they were applauding his name, not himself, but he didn't care. This is his moment. He gives the biggest grin he could muster, which everyone sees over the giant monitor. The audience increases the volume of their applause in turn, with some stomping their feet and shouting raucously. He savors the adulation, shallow as it may be. Reaching the stairs, he walks up with a confident spring in his step. Everything is going perfectly so far.

He reaches the podium and shakes the president's hand. The old man smiles and says, "Congratulations, Mr. Schnee. You have far exceeded many expectations since enrolling here. Now look where you stand, the youngest graduate to have ever come from this University. I feel honored to have been President during your time here."

"Thank you, Sir. I truly appreciate your words. I hope that I'll be able to continue honoring the school after today." Whitley replies, giving a genuine smile.

"I've no doubts about that, young man. If you'd pardon my boldness, I wish to ask a favor from you." The old man asks him.

"And that favor is…?" He leaves the question hanging.

"Would you be so kind as to deliver your speech now? I know we've had you scheduled for the end of the ceremony, but I believe everyone here would like to hear from our star pupil."

Whitley smirks, his relish reaching newer heights. "I see no problem with that. So long as you answer this question: Where is my family sitting?"

"The organizers have placed them in the front stands. I've made sure the cameras would be on them when you gave your speech." The school official tells him.

Yes! Everything is going smoothly! The teenager squeals inwardly, trying desperately to contain his excitement.

Thanking the president and agreeing to his request, Whitley approaches the podium. Unlike the old man, he didn't need to write his speech on paper, having memorized all of it last night. He takes a deep breath and speaks into the mic.

"Good day to you all. You know who I am." He confidently announces. "I know that there other students waiting to get their degrees, but the president has asked if I could deliver my speech now. I would've said no, but I can tell from your applause that you just want more of me. Am I wrong?"

Thunderous applause and hollers of approval echoed through the stadium, both from the audience and the students. "Good Answer." He says with a smile.

He begins his speech.

"My Grandfather, may he rest in peace, had a philosophy. He believed that if you had the right motivation, and the conviction to match, you could find your way out of any undesirable situation. It was that kind of fire that helped get my family to where it is today. How successful was he, one might ask? Well, aside from the obvious answer that's standing 85 stories tall on the other side of the city, the fact that we're all sitting in a stadium named after him speaks for itself. I never got to know him, but I believe that the legacy he left behind tells me enough about him."

He pauses before continuing, "Legacy, now, that's a scary word. Much like a person or a tool, it has both positive and negative connotations. It defines how we are viewed by history, judging us on how we have lived and what we've accomplished. My grandfather has left a huge legacy for my family, one that they've have always strived to uphold. As for me, well, I have no interest in propagating that legacy, there would be no point since it stands strong. No, I have another goal… I want to surpass him. I have my ambitions, and have enough conviction to see them through. That is how I will honor my grandfather, though living by the philosophy that made him a legend."

He pauses again, so that he can let the audience drink those words in. Observing his classmates, he sees that that he's evoked many reactions with his words. He can see amazement, bewilderment, confusion, and envy. He wonders what his family is feeling right now. His father is probably feeling immense paternal pride, enough that would warrant that extremely rare fatherly hug (Which he hasn't have had since he was four). His mother is probably feeling immense amounts of mixed shame and pride (Proud of the man he was becoming and shame that she couldn't have spent more time with him growing up). His sisters are probably feeling shame, pride, and envy (Proud that he could stand on equal footing as them, ashamed for locking him out of their lives, and envy that he was more of an heir than they could ever be, especially Weiss).

And now for the stroke of grace, he deviously thinks.

He speaks again, "But I still have a ways to go in building my own legacy. I may have just graduated from ATI, but this moment is but a tear-drop in the ever-expanding puddle that is my life. By comparison, my grandfather was a vast ocean to my little puddle. I can only hope that my life will be as marvelous as his, but I can only get so far on my own. I need the help of everyone close to me to help me live a long life. My grandfather had my Grandmother, Toni Stark-Schnee, and their only daughter, my mother. I have my friends and my whole family."

He gestures to the Wombotron. He sees his face on the monitor, briefly admiring it, before it begins switching to another camera feed. He could hardly contain himself. This is it, the moment of truth. He will remember this day as the one when he finally became an equal in the eyes of his family. He was on Cloud 9, No, scratch that, he was on Cloud 99.

The screen stops flipping between channels. The Image that appears is that of the stadium section where his friends and family's seats are reserved. The camera zooms in and…

W-what? Whitley frowns, looking at the monitor in disbelief.

He could see Pepper and Happy in their seats, both trying to maintain a composed demeanor while being on screen. Rhodey's seat was empty, which he considered a possibility since the man's niece was graduating from Globe. However, there seemed to be a few missing people. And by a few people, he meant his entire family, considering that nobody was sitting in their reserved seats!

B-but, I… I… He couldn't even begin to articulate what he was feeling. Everything had been going so perfectly, yet it still went wrong. He worked his ass for three years, neglected nearly every aspect of his social life, and earned three degrees in engineering, physics, and business management. He thought his family would be here to congratulate him, maybe even give him a hug or two. What does he get from those people, instead? Nothing, he received absolutely nothing.

He noticed that a silence had begun to build in the stadium. There were no murmurs or whispers, not even the clichéd chirping grasshopper. He couldn't hear anything, but he could definitely see the looks of pity on his classmates. He couldn't even begin to imagine what thoughts were hiding behind those faces. He couldn't see them, but he could just feel the emotions of all the people in the audience. He knew his family wasn't that popular, so he imagined that many felt that satisfaction with his humiliation. It felt suffocating, to be honest, like he was drowning in a sea of resentment.

Forcing a smile to his face, as he has done his whole life, he speaks into the mic. "Well, I did say they're dedicated, right. They are so dedicated to honoring the family that they were just too busy to come. But I know that they're feeling very proud right now."

At least he could try salvaging what dignity he had left.

"I'm glad that I was able to have spoken to you all. These past three years have been the best of my life. I want to thank you all for being wonderful classmates, and I feel immense pride in having taken this journey with you. But like all journeys, we have finally reached our destination. But now, it is time for us to part ways."

Keep the smile up; don't let them see you're upset. "Good-bye"

Stepping away from the podium, he thanked the president and took his certificate. He didn't hear the polite applause around him as he returned to his seat. He didn't hear Zeke's name being called out, as well as the thunderous applause that followed. The only thing he does hear is the single thought running through his brain.

Did you really think things would change?

"Damn you, Jacques…" Pepper swears, cursing her boss for failing his family again.

She feels the warm touch of her fiancée's hand upon her own. They lock their fingers together. Thankfully, it calms her down.

"Go meet with Whitley. I'll start the car." Happy said, "No doubt he wants answers from Jacques."

She nods, giving him all the affirmation he needs. He promptly gets up, making his way out of the stadium. She just sat there waiting for the ceremony to end. She's going to be there for Whitley. His family has certainly shown that they wouldn't.

I don't know why I'm even surprised. She thought, knowing that their absence was a foregone conclusion. She just hopes this doesn't crush the boy, or at least more than it already has.

After the ceremony ended, the newly-minted graduates quickly made their way the entrance to meet with their loved ones. They came out in droves, both them and their loved ones, flooding into the parking lot like a rushing tide. This tide flooded the area, mutterings of well-wishes and declarations of love echoing through the crowds, in varying degrees of affection. Many students gathered with friends to say their farewells and making promises to meet again soon. Some gathered with now-former classmates to make plans for celebrating the night away. Yes, everyone is in high spirits.

Save for one, that is.

Making his way through the crowds, accompanied by Pepper and Happy, Whitley tried his hardest not to stare at the families. He'd be lying if he said that the idea wasn't tempting. He's always wondered what a happy family looked like. He imagines a loving and supportive father, a kind and caring mother, and two sisters whom were very proud of their baby brother; the opposite of his family.

He spots a middle-aged man giving his son a bear hug, sharing a warm smile with him. He averts his eyes, not wanting more reason to sulk. He looks to Pepper asks, "So, I take it Rhodey is at his niece's graduation."

"Yes, he called Happy and told him." She confirmed, "Whitley, don't be upset with him. He would've been here if he wanted to. There were just prior engagements."

The boy sighs, waving the comment off, "No, no, it's alright. I understand. Just tell him I'm happy for him and… uhm…"

"Ciel, her name's Ciel." She reminded him.

"Ciel, right, of course," He lamely replied.

Pepper could only sigh, knowing that nothing she could say will lift the boy's feelings. How can anyone feel happy after being blown off by their family? After shuffling their way through a few people, the trio finally made their way out of the maze of people. Now free to move about, they make their way to the car. They walk quickly, hoping not to run into any nosy reporters eager to interview the youngest Schnee.

They find Happy's car, which is a black Puma XJ. Top of the line and still looking fresh off the assembly line, it showed that the bodyguard took great care in maintaining it. It was gifted to him by the company, both as thanks for his hard work and to serve as the personal ride of Whitley Schnee, whenever the boy left Schnee Manor. Jacques had wanted the car to be painted silver and blue, so as to show whom the car really belonged to. Happy was able to talk the man down from that idea, convincing him of the need to stay conspicuous. It was one of the few times that Jacques Schnee had ever lost an argument. Happy was lucky to have kept his job.

Approaching the parked vehicle, Happy opens the passenger door for his young charge. Just as Whitley was putting his foot in, he is interrupted by a voice he was quite familiar with. "You know, it's considered rude in some kingdoms to leave without a word."

He turned on his heel to see the entirety of the Stane family standing before him. Obadiah Stane (Whom he and his siblings affectionately called "Uncle Obie" when they were younger) was a tall, middle-age gentleman. He cut quite the figure in his dark blue business suit, which was finely pressed and well-tailored, a metaphorical representation of his influence. He was also easy to spot on account of his very bald head, which had nary a single strand of hair on his scalp. His gray eyes, though aged beyond their years, still held a considerable amount of mirth in them. Much like his father, Obadiah was another man he saw as an inspiration.

"Mr. Stane, it's a pleasure to see you, sir." The boy politely greets.

Obadiah laughs, "Whitley, I've known you since you were in diapers. It's Obie, just plain-old Obie."

Whitley chuckles hesitantly, unsure how to address the man. He's always been a stickler for protocol when it comes to his betters. It felt weird to him, addressing an adult so familiarly, even if the one in question has been a close family friend for years, with an acquaintance lasting long before his parent's marriage. But Obadiah was eccentric and he didn't care much for such displays of formality. That very personable aura of his has endeared him to the public, making him more popular than his father.

"Daddy, please stop acting so…you. You have an image to uphold." The man's daughter, Whitney, warns in futility.

Whitley looked at Whitney. She was a pretty girl, about a year older than him, who preferred baggy clothing. Like her brother, she too had blonde hair and light blue eyes, which they both inherited from their mother. He remembers when she had been a more outgoing and very outspoken girl, often complaining to her parents about clothes, boys, and make-up. But then she lost her mother and, like her father, retreated into herself, though her case was more severe. She became very withdrawn and afraid of crowds, and would often go into a panic attack when it became too crowded for her liking. She has been working with a therapist on dealing with these issues. Considering her presence, she has been making great strides in her treatment.

"Come now, Winnie," Obadiah chuckles, using his daughter's nickname, "I may be the company's CFO, but that doesn't mean I should act all high-and-mighty 24/7."

"But you're embarrassing me…" She whispers embarrassedly, though everyone could hear her.

"Father first, businessman second," He says before explaining. "Embarrassing my kids is kind of a requirement for my main job."

He ruffles his son's hair and declares. "And showing pride is another!"

Zeke blushes under the praise, crying, "Dad, stop it! I'm eighteen, not eight!"

Whitley watches the interaction between father and son with a mix of amusement and envy. He enjoyed seeing his friend getting embarrassed by his father, but he couldn't help but feel jealous at the attention he's receiving. For an instant, he imagines himself in his friend's place, receiving loving praise from his own father. He feels his mouth start to twitch, and had to force himself from frowning.

"Schnee's don't frown, they only smirk." His father told him once.

"Forgive my bluntness, but is there something you wanted to say to me, Mr. Stane?" He asks, trying not to sound rude.

Obadiah looks at the boy and tells him, "Actually, I just wanted to congratulate you for graduating. I know my praise can't compare to your father's, but I just want you to know that there is someone who is proud of you."

Whitley smiles and it was a genuine one. "I thank you for your kind words. I can only hope my family shares in your sentiments."

Obadiah places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said. "They are proud of you, Whitley. It's just that certain… circumstances prevent them from showing their pride."

Whitley frowns, thinking. Circumstances, that's probably the nicest way to describe our situation.

The Stane patriarch catches the frown and says. "You know, Whitney and Zeke are going to Mistral to celebrate their graduation. I don't know if you have plans, but you're welcome to join them."

Zeke speaks up. "I don't have a problem with that."

Whitney perks up and starts clapping her hands. "It has been a while since the three of us did anything together… maybe Weiss would like to-" She stops when she sees the frown Whitley is giving her.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to…" She whimpers.

"No, no, don't say you're sorry. I should be the one that's sorry, for upsetting you." Whitley quickly apologized.

Whitney may have made some progress, but she was still very sensitive when it comes to social interaction. Whitley was not going to contribute to her already crippling self-esteem issues. That and he can't stand the sight of a crying woman. Especially if it happened to be a beautiful woman and Whitney was most assuredly beautiful.

Maybe I should ask her out… no, the last thing she needs is a relationship with a Schnee. Whitley thought, knowing the inherent risks that come with associating with his family. The Stane family have already suffered enough on account of Obadiah's role as his father's right-hand.

He can think about Obadiah's offer though. Perhaps some time away from Atlas would be good for him. It would also give him time to think about what he could do now that he's finally graduated. He may have a bachelor's degree in engineering, physics, and business management, but he did know he had very few prospects because of his age. Knowledge and wealth can get you far in life, but only if you were old enough to use them.

"I'll think about it, Mr. Stane." He tells the man, before turning to his children, "Zeke, Whitney, I hope I'll see you both before you leave."

"Sorry, Whit, but we're leaving today." Zeke tells the boy, with his sister sending him an apologetic nod.

"I see… well, I don't want to hold you up. Enjoy your trip; I hear North Mistral is beautiful this time of year." Whitley said, shaking

He steps inside the car and sits in the backseat. Pepper and Happy follow, taking their places in the passenger and driver seats. Happy starts the engine and begins driving. Whitley gives a final wave to the Stane family, whom reciprocate with their own. He looks back at the campus, for the final time, and smiles.

"Farewell…" He whispers.

5:45 PM

The ride back to Schnee Manor was uneventful, to say the least. Traffic was low, especially for today considering that events such as the university and combat school graduations were occurring. To some, it would be seen as strange, but for Whitley, he was just glad something was going right for once today. All he wanted was to get home quickly. After spending an hour in the car, he finds himself standing before the main door, with Pepper and Happy behind him.

Whitley looks up at his home. To many, it seemed like a castle out of an old fairy tale, with all the clichéd design aesthetics like high towers, a main entrance, and a grand courtyard. He doesn't know exactly how his family came to possess it. From what he heard, it was a gift from the Kingdom to his grandfather, Nicholas, for all of his contributions to its economy. Another story he heard told that it once belonged to a member of the old aristocracy, who was a distant relative of his great-grandfather, Kris Schnee, and had gifted the structure to him upon his death. Whitley thought the latter story was more of a tall tale, considering his great-grandfather was just a typical run-of-mill soldier from Mantle.

The trio strolls up to the main door, an impressively large entrance that made visitors feel very small when they look upon it. Without even a knock, the door opens; having been pulled by one of the Schnee's many servants. It was practically engrained into the staff that one must always anticipate a Schnee's demands before they even speak them.

The servant at the door, whose name Whitley can't recall, bows and addresses them. "Welcome home, Master Whitley, and a most warm welcome to you as well, Miss Potts and Mister Hogan."

Whitley struts in, without sparing the servant a single glance. Happy and Pepper follow, though they were more respectful to the man. The servant shuts the doors behind them, closing with a very loud creak that echoes throughout the castle. The busybody quickly strolls up to the young Schnee, who asks "Where is my Father?"

"Master Jacques has recently returned from the company headquarters. He is waiting for you in his study." The man replies, before looking over to his companions, "We thank you for watching over the young master in our absence. But your services are not required at this moment. You are free to leave."

Whitley directs a steady stare at him, "I would like some time to speak with my guests. Inform my father that I will come shortly."

The servant bows in acquiescence, strolling off to inform the master of the house. Once he is out of their view, Whitley turns to Pepper and tells her. "Thank you, Pepper, for being there today. It really meant a lot."

She smiles and hugs the boy. "You don't have to thank me for anything, Whitley. Happy and I would've come either way."

"Yeah, kiddo, don't sweat it." Happy reaffirms, ruffling the boy's hair.

Pepper releases the boy, whom quickly fixes his hair. He smiles at them and thinks. They've done so much for me. Pepper looks after me and doesn't even expect anything in return. Happy would take a bullet for me, even if it wasn't real. I may not trust that many people, aside from the Stanes, but I'm glad these two are in my life.

He decides they deserve something. He tells them, "You know, when I go speak with my father, I could convince him to give you that vacation you both wanted. Remember, that Vacoan safari?"

"You would do that, for us?" Pepper asks in disbelief, "Whitley, you don't have to."

"I don't need to… I want to. You two have done a lot for me, so I think it's time I did something for you." He says, not leaving any room for negotiation.

The couple looked to each other, not sure what to say to such an offer. While it is true that the two have not been on a single vacation in years, they couldn't just pack up and leave everything on a whim. It was Happy's job to guard Whitley, and it was Pepper's to ensure that the boy's father kept his schedule organized (no matter how much she despises the man.) But, they both knew one undeniable fact: When a Schnee offers something to you, they don't take no for an answer.

After weighing their options, Pepper smiles nervously and says. "Thank you, Whitley. We appreciate and accept your offer."

Whitley smiles, glad that they accepted his gift. He then shoos them off playfully. "You're welcome. Now, hurry up and get home, I'm sure you're both tired of looking after some dumb kid all day. Go do whatever it is most middle-aged couples do… which I assume involves binge-watching reruns of Chrome's Anatomy on Flixnet."

"Okay, okay, we can take a hint," Happy says, before correcting the boy. "Also, we don't watch Anatomy, and we're not that old."

You're 45, Happy. Compared to my age, that's old. The boy amusedly thought.

"Alright, Happy, that's enough. Now let's get going before you have a heart attack, old man." Pepper interjected, trying hard not to laugh.

"Not you too, Pep…" The man whimpers, head hanging low.

With that out of the way, the couple bids farewell to the scion of the Schnee Family. They quickly walk back to the main door, which a servant opens for them. They leave through the opening, the door closing behind them with a dramatic rumble. Whitley stares at the door for a second, before turning on his heel to ascend the grand staircase.

"Now comes the hard part…" He sighs dejectedly, nursing his face into the same fake smile he has worn since childhood.

With carefully-hidden reluctance, he puts one foot in front of the other, steadily climbing the stairs. Each step didn't help calm his growing anxiety. He also couldn't help but think of what his father will say to him.

Within his study, Jacques Schnee is sitting somewhat-patiently at his desk. Why somewhat-patiently? Because he had called his son to his study more than five minutes ago, after he had made it clear that he wanted to speak with the boy immediately. He taught his children to always be punctual, because every second is valuable. Time is money, after all.

And for each second I'm waiting, I am losing close to 2.3 thousand! He thought incredulously. He did the math and it showed that he has already lost 690,000 Lien in the past five minutes. His son better have a good reason for keeping him waiting. If the boy's excuse didn't please him, he is going to do more than just send him to his room.

He hears a knock at the door. Keeping his voice steady, he says. "The door is open."

The door opens. He sees his son standing before the open doorframe, arms behind his back and chin being held up high, but not as high as his own chin, thankfully. At least his son remembers how to present himself to his betters. Though, that didn't excuse his tardiness, in his opinion. He beckons his son to enter the room.

Complying with his father's demands, Whitley enters the room, and quickly steps up to the front of his father's desk. Standing before the seated man, Whitley observes his appearance. He notes the furrowed brows, his clasped hands resting on the wooden surface of the desk, and some bags under his eyes. It seemed his father had pulled an all-nighter, and from what he can ascertain, it had not been a very productive one.

I guess that explains his absence at the ceremony… not that it makes me feel any better. The boy thinks, not sure as to how he should be feeling.

"Son, I have been sitting here for the past five minutes, waiting for you. In that time, I thought about the amount of lien that I could've earned. Now, I am a reasonable man and I will give you a chance to explain your lack of punctuality. To put it simply: What took you so long?" His father asks calmly. The voice may have been steady, but Whitley could feel the indignation beneath it.

He replies steadily. "I was simply seeing off Ms. Potts and Mr. Hogan. As you've taught me, Father, a Schnee must always be courteous to their guests. I just wanted to live to the example that you have set for the family."

This is a strategy that Whitley has cultivated in his short fifteen years of life. His father can get angry at times, with an anger that could explode into fury if things didn't go his way. Whitley knew this better than anyone, as the youngest of the man's children, which put more pressure on him to keep in line. He remembers the times when he failed to do so. Those memories were unpleasant, and that was putting it nicely. So how does one diffuse the ticking time-bomb known as Jacques Schnee? Simple: You feed his ego to the point that he forgets why he was angry.

Judging by the man's raising eyebrow, he has succeeded in calming the man down, but only slightly. Jacques replies. "Very well, I can at least forgive you for that. I'm pleased that you at least showed proper etiquette. Though, I must ask: why exactly Pepper and Hogan were here?"

Because they were dropping me off after my graduation, the one that you should have been present for! This was what Whitley wanted to say, but instead he went with "They were dropping me off."

"Oh? and why would they do that?" His father asks, pressing for more information.

"Because I wasn't home," He replies, adding. "I was in the city for an important engagement."

Jacques scoffs in disbelief, "An important Engagement? What exactly would be so important for you as to leave the comfort of your home?"

"Well, I was graduating college." At that, his father's eyes shot up in surprise. Jacques Schnee was at a loss for words, a very rare occurrence. This has happened only twice before. The first was when Winter announced that she was joining the military, and on her 17th birthday no less. The second was when Weiss made clear her ambitions to become a huntress. Whitley remembered that last one quite bitterly, considering she declared it on his 13th birthday.

Why on his birthday? Because Weiss Schnee needs to be the center of attention no matter what, even if it meant ruining her own brother's party. It didn't help that an argument erupted between Winter and their father immediately afterward, because she always needs to support her little sister in everything. All Whitley did was sit quietly and eat his cake, ignoring the looks of pity from the guests all and trying to hold back his tears. He remembers that the cake tasted more salty and wet than sugary-sweet.

Don't get upset. Remember: Deep breaths, deep breaths.

His father's next words didn't help in calming him down. "Wait, your graduation was today?"

And don't forget, count to ten. Deep breaths and count to ten. You don't want to get upset, it'll make father even more upset.

Forcing himself from sneering, Whitley calmly explains. "Yes, my graduation was today. I was informed by Mr. Stane that you were at an important business meeting that prevented you from coming."

"Ah, yes, there was a very important meeting, indeed. You may go now, son. I have other matters to attend to." Jacques says, changing the subject.

That tone of voice… He didn't forget. He didn't even know… did he even care enough to ask…

Whitley collects himself, reminding himself that his father is a very busy man. He has more important things to worry about than some trifling graduation.

"Thank you for your time, Father." Whitley nods to his father and turns to leave, but not before asking. "You know, Ms. Potts and Mr. Hogan deserve a vacation. Would you be so kind to give them one."

"Hmm, yes, yes, of course." Jacques replies off-handedly.

Whitley walks up to the door and slowly closes it behind him, making sure not to aggravate his father further. As soon as the door closes, Whitley begins walking to his room, alone in this coldly unwelcoming and deathly quiet hallway. His only company being the portraits on the walls watching his every move. It feels like they were judging him with those unmoving and cold painted eyes. He speeds up, wanting to get to his room sooner.

In the middle of his forlorn trek, he stops near his parent's bedroom. On the way back to the manor, Pepper informed to the whereabouts of his family. He knows his mother was lying in bed, nursing another hangover after drinking enough alcohol that could make even a Grimm lose their inhibitions. He just glares at the door. He didn't want to bother with that pathetic excuse for a gene-donor.

He continues on to his room. Hopefully, the rest of his day could be better.

In Whitley's bedroom, the sounds of music were blaring loudly, as well as being manipulated into newer ones. The room was sound-proofed, so nobody could hear it. How and why could there be any music playing? The answer was bobbing its nonexistent head to the beat. The how is because it had access to the internal server within the room, which it uses to store hours of songs, soundbites, for it use on its own sound-mixing software. As to the why, well, that was because it was bored as hell.

"⁓VIC-VIC-VIC, VIC, VIC. HIS NAME IS VIC, SPOKEN WITH A SILENT K ⁓!" Were the lyrics to this latest composition.

"Hmmm, maybe I can rework that last verse?" A very relaxed and mellow voice muses.

That voice belonged to none other than VIC, or the Very Intelligent Computer. It was an AI created by Whitley when he was nine, during a time when the boy was feeling lonely. Most kids at that age would be trying to make friends, but Whitley did so literally. With some guidance from his grandmother, the boy was able to write a revolutionary program that allowed a computer to make quantum calculations run by a rudimentary, multipurpose AI. However, like all AI, the base of the personality had to be based on an existing person's mind. The person used, unfortunately, was a rather odd intern that the boy's grandmother was employing at the time. Combine all these and you get the world's first fully self-aware artificial intelligence.

It was quite the breakthrough, one that would've changed the world. Unfortunately, It had the personality of an out-of-work, twenty-something frat boy with zero tact. A frat boy who dropped out of college to pursue his musical dreams, as it were. Such concentrated eccentricity was better kept confined to a single room. For the past seven years, VIC has stayed within his creator's room, keeping to himself and not letting his presence known to the family.

Well, except for the times when he would crank-call the boy's father. The guy was a dick in his opinion, one who totally deserves it.

As VIC mixes his newest song, the door opens. He immediately ceases his fun when Whitley steps in. Activating a moving camera on the ceiling, VIC focuses on the boy's face. He seems upset.

"Hey there, roomie, how does it feel to be out of school?" VIC asks curiously.

Whitley just plants himself onto his bed and buries his face into his pillow. A muffled scream is heard.

"Wow, it hasn't even been a day and the soul-crushing regret has already settled in…"

Whitley clamps the pillow around his head, hoping to cancel out the auditory equivalent to arsenic that was his virtual roommate. He was not in the mood to entertain the AI.

"Well, if you're gonna mope, you can at least hear about the messages you've received."

With a groan, Whitley reluctantly rises up and asks. "Alright, who are the messages from?"

"Well, the first is an invitation to a party your father is holding for Weiss tonight. I think it was sent as a mistake."

Probably another attempt by father to convince Weiss not to leave, showing her everything she'd be leaving behind. Whitley sneers, knowing that Weiss is going to Beacon because she hates everything that their father provides. She was selfish like that.

"The second was a telemarketer. Nothing important there, just some kind of ointment to grow hair."

Whitley had nothing to say about that. Why would he need something to grow hair? He already has beautiful hair; hair that was whiter than freshly fallen snow and combed to perfection.

"The last message was from some lawyer, said something about an inheritance from your grandma."

"Well, I guess nothing import- Wait, what?!" Whitley squeaks, much to his embarrassment.

His Grandma Toni left him an inheritance? He didn't know anything about an inheritance; in fact, this was the first he's heard of it. What was it that she could have left behind? The roadster, some unsolved formulas, inventions that the world wasn't ready to have in her lifetime?

Knowing his grandmother, the possibilities were limitless.

"Did I break your mind or something? You just keep staring at the wall."

For the first time, in a very long time, Whitley Schnee felt genuinely happy. His luck is finally turning around. He was so happy that he didn't mind going to Weiss' dumb party. In fact, he was looking forward to it. He finally had something to gloat about to her face. He jumps off the bed.

"Sorry, Vic, for worrying you, I'm just over the moon right now." Whitley excitedly declares.

"…Well, just be sure not to hit any fragments on your way down." VIC simply replies, completely confused by the boy's abrupt change in demeanor. Humans were weird. Humans are weird, he concludes.

"Alright, I want you to do a background check on that lawyer, then call his firm and schedule a meeting if he's legitimate. If this goes right, then consider your cat video privileges reinstated" Whitley commanded, bounding up to his closet.

Picking out a finely-pressed tuxedo and draping it over his shoulder, Whitley makes his way to the door. The boy flashes a thumbs-up to the AI before opening it. He leaves the room, leaving VIC alone in the room once again.

"Yep, humans are definitely weird…still, cat videos." VIC states, performing the requested background check. He was glad that Whitley is feeling much better. The boy looked like he could use a pick-me-up.

He hopes he has a nice time at the party.

Three hours later…

There was nothing but fake smiles and empty compliments. These were what surrounded Whitley Schnee in this crowded ballroom. He sees nothing but fake smiles from two-faced opportunists who called themselves friends, the kind of people desperate to suck off the teat of his family's wealth. Apparently, there were people who knew that he has graduated and they all congratulated. He would've been flattered if it weren't for the fact that they were just empty compliments well-wishes being given by well-dressed snakes. But he just smiles and thanks them all the same; such manners are expected of a Schnee heir, after all.

Though if he were being honest, Whitley thought these people would at least try to act more impressed. Sure, he's not a decorated specialist like Winter nor has he been accepted to a prestigious hunter's academy like Weiss. But he has done something impossible; an achievement that only his dearly departed grandmother, from whom he inherited his aptitude in science and sardonic wit, could have accomplished. He, Whitley Schnee, at the very young age of fifteen, had just graduated from the Atlas Technological Institute, the top university in Atlas, and perhaps all of Remnant; and at the top of his class. But nobody at this gala seems to grasp how much of an accomplishment that was.

They'd all be singing a different tune if I were older. Wealth and intelligence can get you far in life, so long as you're old enough to marry. Whitley thinks as he takes a sip from his glass of seltzer water.

From the corner of his eye, he sees a small congregation of teenagers cornering his sister Weiss. He could tell from the smile on her face, a very smug one at that, that she is regaling them with her aspirations of becoming a huntress. Whitley tightens the grip on his glass, the only thing he could do to placate his rage.

Look at her. Thinking she's better than everyone… I'm so looking forward to putting her in her place.

He smirks before downing the last of the glass' contents in one gulp, a feat that doubtlessly would have left his mother green with envy. That is, if the woman were ever sober enough to feel envious or even be present to have witness such an act. He was glad his father didn't catch that slip of control, as it wasn't befitting the "refined" image that the man was trying to cultivate for the family. Jacques Schnee was adamant that his children, the ones he still had under his thumb, display proper manners at these sorts of junctions. Such lessons of social etiquette were beaten into Whitley and his sisters by their father, sometimes quite literally. His father would have blown a fuse if he caught him.

But someone else catches it. "Easy there, Whitley. I know you've had a rough day, no need to try and make it your last."

Whitley turns to face the speaker, and he found himself smiling upon seeing who it was. Standing before him is none other than Pepper Potts, who had been invited to this party. With her fiery red hair cascading down her back, sparkling and playful blue eyes, and her toned form dressed in an elegant violet evening gown, the woman made for quite the vision in the ball room. Whitley imagines that she must have turned quite a few heads, if the brief yet very lustful glances from both men and women were a clue. Those wandering eyes would have strayed even further if it weren't for Happy's presence, who kept a protective arm around the woman's waist.

It's cute that Happy thinks Pepper can't handle herself. Whitley thinks amusedly.

"I'm serious, Whitley, you could have choked yourself like that." She scolds the boy.

Whitley waves her off. "Well, it would've made me the center of attention again."

Pepper frowned, not approving of Whitley's nonchalance. "You really shouldn't joke about your own death like that."

"Especially since it's my job to keep you alive," Happy added.

"Death," Whitley scoffs. "How can I die? I'm a Schnee. We Schnee are too stubborn to die…"

He then smirks. "Besides, we're rich enough to pay the Grim Reaper off."

"Is that you talking, or your father? Because that sounds like something your father would say." Pepper pointed out.

Before Whitley could rebuke that statement, the sound of a glass clinking against another is heard. The crowds quiet down as they turn to the origin of the noise. Standing in the center of the room, Jacques Schnee raises a toast to his guests. "Thank you all for coming. I would like to say a few words."

Whitley watches the man scan the room, making sure he has everyone's attention. More specifically, he is trying to ensure that his daughter is paying attention. The boy knows she is, considering this party is meant for her. She better appreciate the gesture.

His father addresses the crowd. "As you all are aware, my daughter, Weiss, is leaving for Vale to participate in Beacon's entrance exam. I cannot even begin to express how proud I am of her. I feel relieved knowing that the Schnee legacy will be in her capable hands. Please, a round of applause for her."

His father claps, with his guests joining. From his spot, Whitley could see his sister blushing under the praise, giving a well-practiced curtsy despite her embarrassment. He snorts at the display, thinking maliciously. Yeah, that's right. Keep drinking it in, dear sister. Hope you enjoyed it while you did.

He knew what his father is doing. He is trying to guilt-trip Weiss into staying in Atlas, or at the very least, return should she fail the entrance exam. It was a futile gesture in his opinion. As much as he may loathe his sister, he can admit that she is skilled and ridiculously so. Her swordsmanship is without equal, her knowledge of Dust practically genetic, and she could move with the grace of a spectral ballerina. Combine all those skills together and you have the perfect Huntress-in-training.

But she wasn't that perfect, she did have her own weaknesses such as a very short temper, an ego matching their father's, a borderline-hatred of Faunus, and a general unwillingness to cooperate with others if they don't meet her standards. By his calculations, his sister's chances of acing the entrance exam were high, so long as she reins in her worst impulses. He honestly hopes she does, considering that it'll give him time to convince his father that he is the rightful heir to the Schnee fortune.

"However, I want you to know this, Weiss. Should things not work out at Beacon, just know that you are always welcome to come home." His father declares, trying to sound as sincere as he can.

He watches Weiss bow again before saying. "Thank you for your kind words, Father. I know I shall honor the family well during my time at Beacon."

She really is that confident? Good. He smugly thinks.

The sound of polite applause breaks him from his thoughts. They were it eating up. He watches his father raise a hand, silencing them. "Now, there is one more thing I must say. While I do applaud my daughter's accomplishments, she is not the only one of my children to make me proud today."

Whitley perks up, knowing full well whom his father was talking about. Next to him, Pepper gives him an encouraging smile.

"As most are aware, my son has graduated from ATI, summa cum laude. Regrettably, I was unable to attend his graduation, as I was in an important business meeting. This meeting concerned the coming demonstration of my company's new line of M3 rocket guidance systems, which my son helped develop as part of a joint research project between the military and university."

Whitley remembers the project his father is speaking of. The Multi-directional Miniature Missile rocket guidance system, or the M3 system for short, was the project that proved his mettle as an innovator. Working alongside a team of seasoned researchers and student-interns, he helped program the special program that was used in the IFF system. The missiles, using a specialized sonic scanning system he himself designed, could identify weapons that were manufactured with a specific serial number. The idea was that the missile could be guided towards hostiles using weapons that either didn't have a serial number or uses a black-listed one (as in stolen by the enemy). The aim of the project was to reduce friendly fire incidents on the battlefield. Whitley was proud to say that the likelihood of death by friendly fire has decreased by 90%, if the simulations were any indicator

"Now, I was invited by the military to observe a live-demonstration of this system in Mistral. But my schedule is packed, so I will not be able to go. As I missed out on his big day and, considering that he is essentially the creator of this weapon, I have decided that Whitley shall go in my stead." Jacques proudly declares before clapping his hands.

A round of applause erupts. It was almost deafening in their jubilation. As they celebrate the young man's achievement, a single thought popped into his mind. It was sudden, came out of nowhere, and he certainly didn't think it possible for him to think it. It summed up the young man's feelings toward his father in that moment, after being denied the parental pride he long wished for again.

Are you fucking kidding me!

And with that, the first chapter of the Invincible Whitley Schnee comes to a close. Now I know what you're all thinking. Old Nacoma has lost it, casting Whitley Schnee, who is so reviled that he was nicknamed Shitley by the fandom, as the armored avenger. Why would he do such a thing? Well, first allow me to explain. Firstly, it was the decision of Brotherhoof to have Whitley become Iron Man. Secondly; they were able to explain their reasoning behind their choice, which I find to be both reasonable and understandable. Thirdly, as a writer, I have to remain objective when it comes to characters.

That third reason goes hand-in-hand with my opinions about Whitley. People hate him for being a mini-Jacques, but when exactly did act like one? Sure, he ran his mouth off at Weiss after she lost her rights as heiress, but that is literally the first time he began to act maliciously, with his later actions further condemning him. But until that point, he had been acting rather supportive of his sister, even if it was probably all an act. I'm not sure how Rooster Teeth will develop his character, but for this story he will be taking an alternate route in character development, considering it's an AU. So, please keep an open mind and try to enjoy this story.

Now, for those juicy bits about the story itself:

Yes, I am using a calendar system for Remnant. In my opinion, the canon timeline is out of whack due to the lack of one. Why 2008 instead of 2014? Well, the MCU started in 2008, so I thought it would be a nice tribute. As for April 23rd, well, that is when my previous spring semester ended.

In terms of chronology, the story begins two to three months before the events of "Ruby Rose", which occurred on June 18th, which is a week before Ruby's inaugural semester. Jaune has been Spider-Man for at least one month by this story's start.

Yes, Pepper and Happy are engaged to be married, as they were indeed together in the comics.

Antoinette Stark-Schnee is a gender-bent Tony Stark born in the wrong time. It made sense for Whitley to have some connection to the Starks, since he will become Iron Man.

The Stane family situation is more complex than it looks. Expect interesting developments.

No, VIC is not the same one from Red vs Blue. He was inspired by him, but it's not him. (Mainly 'cause I don't think there's a writer capable enough to mimic that amount of insanity)

Just as with "The Amazing Jaune Arc", characters from other Rooster Teeth productions will appear. I'm talking Nomad, Red vs Blue, X-ray and Vav, and the recently released Gen: Lock.

Yes, Whitley will have love interest. It will be someone you least expect.

Alright, if you have questions, please post them in your review. Nacoma needs his inbox to be organized and all. Please take the time to read this story's sister fic, "The Amazing Jaune Arc" which is being written by Brotherhoof12.

That's all, folks (Dammit, Spider-Ham). Now if you'll excuse me I've got some Spidey PS4 to play. Cheers and Excelsior.