The weight of the Schnee family name settled heavily on Jacques's shoulders, a burden he usually carried with an air of entitled arrogance.
But today, the arrogance was cracking.
News had reached him of Weiss's continued presence at Beacon, under the protection of this "Arthur".
And that, in itself, was a problem.
Not because he missed his daughter, or feared for her safety in any genuine way.
No, Jacques Schnee saw his children as extensions of his will, tools to secure his power.
His true concern lay with the Older Generations of the SDC.
They were the silent, powerful backbone of the Schnee Dust Company, the ones who truly held the reins.
Their loyalty wasn't to Jacques, the ambitious son-in-law who had married into the esteemed lineage of Schnee.
Their loyalty was, and always had been, to their late true leader: Nicholas Schnee, Weiss's grandfather.
Jacques had only ever been a placeholder, a temporary steward of the company.
The Older Generations tolerated him because he produced results, because he kept the money flowing.
But their true affection, their unwavering support, belonged to the direct descendants of Nicholas.
And when Winter refused to inherit.
Weiss, as the next daughter in line, was a direct link.
If anything were to happen to Weiss – if she were to be harmed, or simply remain out of his control and away from the family's watchful eye – Jacques knew he would lose everything.
The Older Generations would withdraw their support, swiftly and decisively.
And without their backing, his carefully constructed empire would crumble.
All the shady dealings, the unethical practices, the outright cruelties he'd inflicted to maintain his position – they would all come to light.
He would be stripped of his power, his reputation, and his fortune.
The thought made his blood run cold.
He paced his lavish office in Atlas, the polished floors reflecting his agitated movements.
"This is unacceptable!"
He roared, slamming a fist onto his desk.
"Unacceptable! She is a Schnee! She belongs here, under my roof!"
Ironwood, still reeling from his humiliating encounter with Arthur, was summoned.
"I've already tried to retrieve her. But Arthur... he's proven to be quite an obstacle."
Jacques sneered.
"Obstacle? General, you command an army! You have the might of Atlas at your disposal! And you tell me one man, a mere professor, is an obstacle?"
His voice dripped with contempt.
"I don't care how powerful he is. I want my daughter back. Now."
Ironwood narrowed his eyes.
It had been weeks since he tried to do anything to deal with Arthur but it was useless.
"Ozpin is already making veiled threats about 'academic freedom' and 'unwarranted interference'."
"Ozpin!"
Jacques spat the name like a curse.
"That fool! He's weak, easily manipulated. This 'Arthur' must be his new pet project. No matter. I will not be deterred by the ramblings of a headmaster or the theatrics of some upstart magician!"
He walked to a large, ornate map of Remnant, tracing a finger over the landmasses.
"Beacon may be outside my direct jurisdiction, but Atlas... Atlas is my domain. And I have ways of making people understand the importance of family."
A sinister gleam entered his eyes. He wasn't thinking of military force, not yet.
No, there were other ways. Subtler ways. Ways that exploited weaknesses, exposed vulnerabilities.
He would apply pressure, financially, politically.
He would make Ozpin's life, and by extension Arthur's, utterly miserable until Weiss was safely back in his clutches.
Meanwhile, far from Jacques's opulent prison, Weiss was thriving.
The cafeteria conversations, the easy laughter with her teammates, the fascinating magic lessons with Arthur – it was a world away from the suffocating expectations of the Schnee household.
She felt a lightness she hadn't known existed, a freedom to be herself without constant judgment.
Her scroll buzzed, a familiar, unwelcome chime. It was a message from her father.
Her smile faded.
She knew what it would say, or at least the underlying message.
Come home. You belong here. You are a Schnee.
She sighed, showing the message to her teammates.
Ruby frowned, Yang clenched her fist, and Blake's ears drooped slightly.
"He just won't give up, will he?"
Yang muttered.
"He's never given up on anything he wants,"
Weiss replied, a weary note in her voice.
"And what he wants right now is me, back in Atlas, playing the dutiful heiress."
"But you don't want to go, do you?"
Ruby asked, her silver eyes earnest.
Weiss shook her head firmly.
"No. Not now. Not ever, if I can help it. I'm learning so much here. I'm... I'm happy here."
She looked around at her friends, at the vibrant, bustling cafeteria, a stark contrast to the cold, echoing halls of her family manor.
"Professor Arthur will help you,"
Blake stated with quiet conviction.
"He wouldn't let your father force you to do anything you don't want to do."
"Blake's right!"
Ruby chimed in, practically bouncing in her seat.
"He's super strong! He can make anything disappear! He'll make your dad disappear!"
She clapped her hands over her mouth, giggling.
"Not really, but you know what I mean!"
Weiss managed a small smile.
"I know. He's... impressive."
She thought of Arthur, his calm demeanor, his quiet strength, the way he always seemed to know exactly what was needed.
He had saved Penny, a feat considered impossible. Surely, he could handle Jacques.
But a flicker of worry remained. Her father was a formidable opponent in his own right, not with magic or physical prowess, but with influence and manipulation.
He played a different game, one where power was measured in lien and political sway.
Back in his room, Arthur felt a familiar prickle of irritation.
He sensed Jacques Schnee's agitation, a faint tremor in the intricate web of magical energy that connected everything.
It was like a discordant note in a symphony.
"Still stewing, are we?"
Arthur mused aloud, addressing the empty air.
He knew Grinda wouldn't be far.
A soft ripple in the air, and Grinda materialized, perched gracefully on his desk once more.
"He's making quite a fuss, apparently. Sending demands, rattling cages. The Schnee Dust Company's board members are getting an earful."
Arthur snorted.
"Figures. The man's entire existence is a fuss. He's a bully, plain and simple. And bullies, eventually, need to be put in their place."
"And you still plan to visit him in Atlas?"
Grinda asked, a hint of caution in her tone.
"Eventually. But first, he needs to understand that his actions have consequences. He needs to realize that Weiss is not just a pawn in his game. She's a person, with her own choices."
Arthur's eyes held a dangerous glint.
"And if he continues to push, he'll find out just how protective I can be of my own people."
He leaned back in his chair, a slow, contemplative smile spreading across his face.
"Perhaps a little... economic disruption is in order. A temporary hiccup in the Schnee Dust Company's profits. Nothing too drastic, just enough to make him sweat. To remind him that his power isn't absolute."
Grinda's eyes widened slightly.
She knew Arthur was capable of such things, but the casualness with which he spoke of manipulating a global corporation was still breathtaking.
"That could cause quite a stir."
"Yes,"
Arthur said, his smile widening.
"But sometimes, a stir is exactly what's needed to get someone's attention. Especially someone as self-absorbed as Jacques Schnee."
He closed his eyes for a moment, extending his senses, a ripple of subtle energy flowing outward.
Somewhere, far away in Atlas, a seemingly insignificant transaction would fail, a crucial shipment would be delayed, a stock price would dip unexpectedly.
Nothing major, not yet. Just a whisper. A warning.
"Let's see how long he can maintain his composure when his carefully constructed world starts to glitch,"
Arthur murmured, opening his eyes.
"He's about to learn that some lines, once crossed, have repercussions far beyond his understanding."
Grinda watched him, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over her. Jacques Schnee had truly picked the wrong fight this time.
And Arthur, in his quiet, unassuming way, was about to dismantle him, piece by agonizing piece.
The thought of it, while unsettling, was undeniably appealing.
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