The Strength of a Soldier: Male Reader x Pyrrha Nikos (Part I)

Chapter V: New School

(F/N) spent the next few days exploring the Mortar's capabilities. Though he had insisted he would have been fine with his old arm, he had to admit, the Mortar was a much-appreciated upgrade. It responded to his every command and, unlike his old arm, caused him no discomfort. (F/N) was in the airship's shooting range when General Ironwood approached him.

"(L/N)." He says, drawing (F/N)'s attention from the targets he was shooting at. "It's time."

Nodding, (F/N) switches the Mortar back to its primary configuration and follows the General. Leading him through the large airship the to the upper levels. Ushering him inside a large meeting room, Winter Schnee stands next to a circular table in the center of the room. Ironwood moves to stand next to her.

"I'm sure you've been wondering why we returned you to the land of the living." Ironwood says.

"It had come to mind, yes."

"Simply put, Atlas is in danger. More than that, all of Remnant is in danger."

"From what? I thought you said the Kingdoms were experiencing an unprecedented time of peace."

"They are." Ironwood nods. "But there are still those in this world that would prefer to see it in chaos. One person in particular."

"Who?"

"Her name is Salem. Not many know about her. Only the headmasters of the huntsmen academies and a few hand selected individuals. The headmaster of Beacon Academy, Professor Ozpin, he's been fighting Salem for years, longer than anyone."

"If she's been around for years, why am I just now being awoken?"

"Salem's been quiet for a long time. For a while we thought she had died, or rather we hoped. But she's back now, and she's looking for something."

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"Where is it?"

"I can't tell you that either." Ironwood releases a sigh. "I know it's frustrating to be kept in the dark, believe me, I know. It took a while before Ozpin would even tell me. But believe me when I say I wouldn't have brought you here if the fate of Remnant wasn't at stake."

(F/N) nods. "So, what do you need from me?"

"Although Ozpin thinks otherwise, it is our belief that Salem has sent spies to infiltrate one of the academies." Winter informs. "Our primary concern is Beacon."

"Now, we obviously can't send soldier to Beacon." Ironwood explains. "We don't want to alert our enemies that we're on to them. So, instead we're sending you. You will pose as a transfer student from Atlas Academy. All you need to do is keep your eyes open for anything suspicious. Winter will be your contact. Listen (L/N)," Ironwood says, voice becoming much more serious, "no one can know who you are or discover your true intentions. It could jeopardize the entire mission. Not even Ozpin can know."

(F/N) nods once in understanding.

"Other than that, it should be simple really." Ironwood says more relaxed. "Just be a normal teenager. Shouldn't be anything new to you."

(F/N)'s face hardens, and his shoulders grow rigid. Ironwood doesn't take notice, but Winter gives him a quick look.

"And if I'm asked about my arm?" (F/N) asks.

"I would advise that you refrain from telling the truth." Ironwood suggests. "But it's up to your discretion. That is all, you're dismissed."

Turning, (F/N) exits the room. He's almost about to round a corner when he's stopped by Winter.

"(F/N)." She calls, walking up to him. She extends her hand. "Do your country proud. Soldier."

Taken aback, (F/N) quickly recovers, shaking her hand. The two give each other a curt nod before going their separate ways.

Time Skip:

Two days later, the sun high in the sky, (F/N) steps off the bullhead and into the middle of a very crowded courtyard. Holding his prosthetic arm over his eyes to shield his vision from the light of the sun, (F/N) looks around his new surroundings. Everywhere his head turns he's greeted by the sight of other people his age. Students strolling through the courtyard, some rushing in a hurry to get to class before the bell rings. The sound of casual conversation and the occasional laugh at a bad joke reaches his ears. (F/N) smiles to himself. Much better than the noises he's accustomed to. Maybe now's his chance to just be a normal teenager.

Some of the other passengers brush past (F/N) and join the crowd, swept away in the sea of students. Some of the airship's crew approach (F/N) from behind and drop his bags at his feet. Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, (F/N) pulls out a scroll to check the time. The fact that such a tiny device could do so much still boggled his mind. The General had gotten in touch with Ozpin on (F/N)'s behalf to let the headmaster know he'd be arriving today. According to the holographic clock in his hands, the student Ozpin had assigned to help him settle in should have been here a few minutes ago. Looking up, (F/N) scans the crowd for anyone who might be looking for someone. He finds no such person. Dropping his hand and letting his arm lazily swing at his side, (F/N) rotates on the spot before giving a small shrug. Turning around, he's about to grab the bags at his feet when he hears a voice addressing him.

"Hello there!"

(F/N) turns to see an attractive young woman in a brown corset and gladiatorial armor approaching him. Her red hair is tied back into a ponytail and a warm smile paints her face.

"You must be (F/N)."

"Yeah, that's me."

"My name's Pyrrha. I'll be the one showing you around campus."

"Oh, okay." (F/N) says awkwardly. "It's uh, it's a pleasure to meet you Pyrrha." He extends his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine." She smiles, accepting his handshake. She's surprised to feel her hand gripping metal and not flesh. Instead of saying anything about it though, she politely ignores the fact. After all, it would be extremely rude to ask a man you just met why he has a metal arm. "Would you like some help with your things?" She asks, indicating the pile of duffel bags at his feet.

"Uh, yeah." (F/N) says, looking at his belongings. "That'd be great."

Pyrrha bends down and grabs the handle of a long, sturdy looking black case. As soon as she grabs it however, she feels (F/N)'s hand on hers.

"Sorry." He says, quickly withdrawing his hand. "It's just, this one is important to me. I'd like to take it myself if you don't mind."

"O-okay." Pyrrha stutters, face growing red.

The two quickly turn and hide their faces from each other, gathering up the rest of (F/N)'s things. Standing back up, Pyrrha holds one of (F/N)'s bags at her side while he carries the black case and another bag.

"Got everything?" Pyrrha asks, looking behind him to make sure they hadn't missed anything.

(F/N) looks over his shoulder at the ground. "Uh, yeah. Looks like it."

"Great. Let's go."

The first place Pyrrha takes (F/N) is the dorm rooms. Riding the elevator up in a somewhat awkward silence, it stops at the top floor and the two step out. About halfway down the hall, Pyrrha stops and pushes open the door to a small, single person room.

"This is your room." She says, letting (F/N) walk past her and inside. Setting his things next to the closet, he trails a finger along one of the desks, looking at the dust before wiping it on his pants. "Sorry it's so dusty." Pyrrha apologizes. "We don't get a lot of transfer students."

"That's okay." (F/N) responds absentmindedly. Taking the bag from Pyrrha's hand, he tosses it over to the others and moves to examine his bed.

"My teams' room is just next door. If you need anything, feel free to ask.

Nodding, (F/N) drops onto the bed, sinking into the mattress a bit. "Soft." He says. "Bouncy too." He states, bouncing on it, letting his legs dangle.

Pyrrha laughs softly at his childish behavior.

"So," he says, pushing on his knees and onto his feet, "where to?"