Three Months Later

Armin observed everything around him as he followed the shaken, but stern, blonde woman. Behind his skull faced mask, Armin regarded the huntress with an air of disdain. It was an irrational feeling, fueled more by his distaste for her lack of faith, than his sense of duty, but still it remained. He hated it. It ached within him like a hunger in his belly. All because of what that damnable Aura did to him, that damnable Aura that still existed within him, like a taint on his immortal soul.

Life outside the rigid hierarchies of the Death Korps was not good for him. Life had been simpler before. Not for the first time he wondered if he would not have been better served remaining in Atlas. The Atlesian way of life was a pale imitation of the Kriegan way, but it was the closest thing he could have found on Remnant. Unfortunately, if he still wished to serve Humanity, on the front as a soldier, then Ozpin's proposal had been the only one offered.

However that meant awakening his Aura, which had sparked something inside of him. The power of the soul made him feel things. Things he clamped down on with an iron will. Where before he had felt only shame and duty, now he could feel a myriad of things he had no name for. He endured them as any good Krieger should, but still they existed in a way they hadn't before.

He could see no other option however. If he was to act within his new role as a hunter, then he required the use of the damnable Aura. It was a weapon, one that was needed. He had been ordered to aid the natives and investigate the power of Aura and Dust, and that is exactly what he would do. No matter how much it grated on him.

Returning his thoughts to the present, Armin idly wondered what this initiation would consist of. He had never attended a Progenium before. He had no doubt it would be a pale imitation of the glorious Scholas of the Imperium, but still in spite of himself he found himself curious. It was not an excitement as such, more a muted anticipation.

The woman in front of him was called Goodwitch, a name that tested the boundaries of his frayed patience. She was not aware of his true circumstances. As far as she was aware, he was a child from outside of the protection of the kingdoms, an orphaned nomad who had been transferred here on Ozpin's request. Regardless of what she believed his circumstances to be, she had made it clear that she was not happy with his sense of dress, and had taken a dim view of his wearing a mask. When he had obediently removed it at her request, regardless of his own discomfort, she had gone very still and turned quite pale. Armin was used to that. It was a common reaction from those he had shown his face while on Remnant. He did not understand why. He possessed no mutations, and was fully functional.

After a moment he heard her mutter the word "Ozpin" under her breath, before reluctantly allowing him to wear his mask.

Confused, but content to once more be covered, Armin had followed the woman. The pair had walked in silence thereafter, and it did not take long for them to appear in front of a set of double doors, at which point Goodwitch made an approving noise as she pushed open one of the doors, allowing a number of voices to become audible from within.

"We are here," she stated. "The initiation is set to begin in a few minutes. Hurry."

Armin turned to go, but not before saluting the woman who was technically his superior, she startled at the movement, but eventually made a vague sign that might have been a salute.

Inwardly Armin bristled,

'Sloppy, just as expected of those who did not know the true light of the Emperor." thought Armin, before he walked through the doorway.

As he moved, he checked his equipment. His standard issue hell-gun, being the only weapon of its type recovered intact from the crash, had been taken from him to be studied at Atlas. Fortunately he had been spared the indignity of being relieved of his chainsword, and that rested easily and reassuringly at his waist.

He was fortunate that his trench coat could be fixed with the remaining parts of his deceased comrades. The fools at Atlas had the ridiculous idea that the Kriegers were to be buried with their uniforms once it became clear there was no advanced technology imbedded in them, aside from the Grenadiers helmet cams. How wasteful. It had taken Armin two hours to dig up their remains to salvage their equipment.

His 'minders' had looked on silently. No doubt ashamed of their own wastefulness.

The 'enginseers' who had worked on his replacement firearm had been confused by his specifications, but had built is as requested. If he had been a more emotive individual he might have laughed at the idea of a transforming weapon. It was only the enhanced effects of Aura that allowed the denizens of Remnant to make use of such unwieldy weapons.

Armin had no desire to be left so disadvantaged should he ever encounter a situation where his Aura was unavailable to him. If the situation ever switched to melee, which was all but a guarantee given the nature of the Grimm, he would switch to the bayonet on the end of his gun, or if time permitted, switch to his chainsword.

What he had requested instead was essentially an imitation of his hell-gun, which instead of firing lasers, ran on dust rounds that were fed from the pack on his back. It lacked the punch or even the ammo capacity of a hell-gun, but it was the best he could expect from such a primitive society. It was however, much more durable as well as lighter than his old weapon, apparently being made of more advanced materials than his own mass produced weapon. It was also able to switch firing modes, to a slow to charge, but potent single shot that was more akin to an anti-material weapon than an automatic small arm.

He supposed that added advantage somewhat mitigated the irritation he felt at the loss of his hell-gun.

If it weren't treason, Armin might have cursed the orders that had forced him to aid a world so far from the Emperor's light. As it was, the idea didn't even occur to him, the circumstances that had put him here were more akin to a force of nature within his mind. Orders were heard and obeyed, that was all there was to it. He had simply been unfortunate.

Armin had no idea if the Omnissah accepted the benedictions of a soldier to an unblessed weapon. Or even if a weapon made by hands other than the Mechanicus had a machine spirit. Still he chose err on the side of caution, and as he to entered the crowd of Progena, he uttered the 'Benediction of Accuracy' to the rifle that was strapped to the side of his ammo pack. The familiar action felt soothing to his sullied soul.

He drew some confused looks as he made his way through the crowd of Progena. He did not understand why though. If anything, he should have been the one staring at them for their garish attire and complete lack of discipline. A military force without a uniform? What a joke. At least Atlas hadn't sank that low.

He objectively understood that this was not Krieg, and that these were all new recruits; he had been to other worlds, Imperial worlds, filled with equally strange dress senses. Met peculiar regiments in the course of his duties, even the undisciplined thugs of Catachan, but even then, it did not forgive this whirling maelstrom of noise. This was a group of new recruits waiting to be addressed by their commander, not a… He didn't even know what to compare it to.

A mob of greenskins?

As he finished that thought, he finally found a spot where he could view the podium, while also having a clear line of sight on all the gathered Progena. It was unlikely he would need it, but this was an initiation, and he had no idea as to how it would work. Idly he hoped it would be a battle royale.

The chance to kill some non-believers would do much to soothe his raised ire. It was not a slight against those around him, as much as a need to slake a desire that had been ingrained into him. Kriegers fought and killed, even in training. It was all they knew. It was all they ever knew.

He was ready to fight and die for the good of humanity, but thinning out a few of the weak didn't go against that goal. His own graduation from basic training had been much the same after all. The assembled Kriegers had fought amongst each other, until only half of them remained. Insuring that Krieg only sent the best to fight and die in the Emperor's name. Armin still had the knucklebones of his first kill in a pouch in his uniform. Over the years they had been worn smooth as glass by his hands upon them.

"Hello?" A nervous voice called out to his left interrupting his musings.

Slightly startled and irritated that someone had managed to sneak up on him, clear proof of his agitation, and that this world was filled with too many… things, Armin turned to regard the person who had spoken to him.

She was female, armed with some manner of rifle, although that could change in an instant if it transformed. Whatever thoughts he had on transforming weapon's practicality, they still posed a potent threat. The girl was roughly his own age, clad in a red cloak reminiscent of the mechanicum, but Armin knew from experience that didn't necessarily mean she was a part of the machine cult, or had any aptitude for machinery. Her body language spoke of nervousness, but also a small amount of resolve.

He eyed her through his mask's lenses. Why was she was speaking to him? They were not superior and subordinate as far as was aware. What cause did they have to interact?

The seconds ticked on as he simply watched her, and she became more nervous and fidgety as he stared. To another person the silence might have been awkward, but Armin was completely oblivious to that sensation. For all his ability to read body language, that didn't necessarily translate to knowing the reason for someone's distress.

Finally after a full minute of staring at the girl, she spoke up, haltingly.

"I'm Ruby! Ruby Rose… and, well… I was, watching… you, you know."

She suddenly flushed and threw her hands up, "I mean, I wasn't watching you in a creepy way or anything! I mean, I noticed that you were alone, so I thought I could talk to you… or something?"

Armin for his part was utterly perplexed.

"Why?"

Armin didn't inject any anger or resentment into his tone; he wouldn't even if such a thing came naturally to him. For all his disdain for the unbelievers, he was actively trying not to generate ill will toward himself. He was representing the Imperium at large here after all, even if none of those around him knew it. To him it was an honest, genuinely curious question. Unfortunately, the distinct monotone of a Krieger, especially when coming from the quite intimidating skull mask of a soldier of the Death Korps, was generally considered unpleasant, and aggressive in its blandness.

Ruby nearly squeaked when the strange gas masked boy spoke, but with a clench of her fists, she bolstered her will. She could do this! Yang was watching and everything. Her older sister, as a joke, had pointed the trench coated boy out as a potential friend, but Ruby had taken it as a challenge. If she could make friends with the scary guy, then she could make friends with anyone.

Now that she was actually here though… Maybe she should have gone for Vomit Boy.

"Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted a friend, or something?" She flushed with embarrassment, "Maybe me?"

Inwardly she cheered for not stuttering this time. Maybe she was getting better at this socializing thing?

It must be the milk!

For his part Armin was intrigued. One of the objectives the man named Ozpin had given to him was for him to gain friends. The man had claimed they would become a source of strength. Armin had little enough understanding of the word, given there was no direct comparison to it in the Kriegan dialect of High Gothic, but he understood it to be some manner of loosely defined squad mate or ally. He had intended to acquire one for study, and this girl in front of him had just claimed that she could become one, if he gave his consent.

"Yes, you shall be my friend." Armin said as firmly as his emotionless tenor allowed.

He would not allow this child to escape now that she had revealed herself as a friend. She was now an objective to be guarded or secured depending on her temperament. Truly the Emperor's will was clear here.

Ruby nearly jumped for joy when the strange boy said he would be her friend. She did it! If she could make friends with this scary guy she could make friends with anyone. She was probably the best socializer ever.

In your face Yang!

Abruptly she flushed as she realized that in her excitement she was just standing there staring at her new friend.

"Ah, that's great. I was worried it would be hard to make friends at Beacon. I'm usually not that good at socializing." She chuckled as she rubbed the back of her head, "I'm Ruby Rose."

"Armin." The gas masked boy grunted in that strange voice of his. He was confused by this sudden meaningless input of information, but it was clearly part of the 'Friend' process that he had yet to understand. He could only hope this part of the process didn't last for too long.

"Just Armin?" Ruby asked with a tilt of her head.

"It is just Armin. I possess no last name." He said firmly.

Not quite true Armin reflected. He did have a last name, it just happened to be a stream of digits and numbers. It was something he had been instructed not to mention. Apparently that was unusual on Remnant, yet another sign of their gross inefficiency.

"Ah, that's… nice?" Ruby asked honestly at a loss as to how to respond to that, but she quickly shrugged it off and directed her new friend in the direction of her shocked sister.

"Come on Armin, I'll introduce you to my sister."

As he followed his new 'friend', Armin wondered at the character of this 'sister'. He knew of siblings on a theoretical level. For him they existed in much the same way as the annual yield of crops from Krieg; something that no doubt at one point affected him, but ultimately was a complete unknown he would never experience or meet. Kriegers were divided at birth after all. He did not know what manner of interaction siblings were supposed to possess. Was it a superior/subordinate relationship, or was it more akin to the loose relationship between Commissar and Colonel?

He did not know, but he would do his best to put in a good impression, so as to facilitate maximal efficiency amongst his new allies.

The sister as it turned out, was a blonde girl, roughly a few years older than his new 'friend'. She had long blonde hair, which instantly downgraded Armin's opinion of her. That length of hair was practically a death trap, just waiting to be caught in a foe's hands. As he looked at the garishly yellow woman he made a mental note to inform his new ally that she should cut her hair post haste.

Other than that, and the fact that she had a pair of bright yellow gauntlets, he had little else to say about her. Much like all the other Progena present, her choice of clothing was impractical for combat. Absently he wondered why so few people on Remnant wore armor. Aura was only one layer of protection, and it could be depleted, in which case a second layer of protection would be invaluable. Even something as simple as a helmet or knee guards, could potentially save a soldiers life many times over their career.

"Hey there big guy!" The blonde monstrosity called out to him, rallying from whatever surprise she felt earlier, "I see you've made the acquaintance of my adorable little sister."

"Yes. Ruby is now my friend." He replied as he observed her body language to gauge some idea of her thoughts, "I assume this is acceptable?" He added in as respectful tone as he was capable of, which was to say he didn't shout it.

Yang looked confused by his words, wondering if Ruby's new friend was a few forks short of a cutlery set, but after a moment, nodded with a teasing grin, "Sure thing big guy. Just don't do anything funny to my cute little sis and everything's cool."

Armin had no idea what the temperature had to do with anything, but he nodded in turn. A swift nod generally tended to resolve most social situations he didn't understand, and it served him well here, as the blonde woman did that teeth baring thing that he was learning people tended to do when something pleased them. It rarely happened around him.

She was wary of him, which was wise, but not outright hostile. This was also wise. Irregardless of her position, she did not want a member of the Death Korps as her enemy.

"You don't talk much do you big guy?" Yang asked as she looked up at the skull mask. She deliberately moved into his personal space in an attempt to get some reaction out of the stoic student, the only reaction she got was a slight nod to her earlier query. Otherwise he remained completely still. Like a machine at rest.

Unfortunately she couldn't take her investigation any further, as near instantly Ruby recognized what she was doing and leapt to her new friend's defense.

"Yang! Don't scare off Armin!" Ruby interjected indignantly, "He's just shy is all."

Yang just grinned and ruffled her sister's hair as she looked up and down the skull faced and completely covered boy in front of her. That was definitely Ruby projecting, rather than a rational statement. For all Ruby's battle smarts, she was utterly clueless in a social setting; adorably earnestly clueless, but still clueless.

She really didn't think this guy was shy. If he was actually shy, then he was certainly taking it to the next level. She would keep an eye on him to be sure, but until he actually 'did' something, she would withhold judgement. He certainly wasn't her first choice of friend for her social challenged little sister, but who knew what could happen. It was possible the two clearly socially stunted people would complement one another. One talked too much, and the other too little.

Ruby turned to him to say something, but she was cut off as a commotion occurred in the crowd around them. Armin nearly sighed in relief as any further conversation was mercifully forestalled as Ozpin reached the podium and cleared his throat, easily gathering everyone's attention. Beside him, the blonde woman, Goodwitch stood with a Scroll held in her hands. Without any pre-amble, the gray haired man started off on a briefing about the forest below, and what the gathered progena were here for.

The briefing essentially boiled down to a combat drop into hostile territory, followed by a trek toward the objective. The objective in question was a relic of some kind. The relic was contained in a large temple in the northern part of the forest.

Armin was happy with that. It was a live-fire exercise that had a real risk of casualties, and would teach the involved Progena the realities of war. He was especially happy with the rule that a Progena was supposed to partner with the first person they made eye contact with. In the Death Korps, squads had to be constantly reconsolidated in the field as casualties mounted. This was clearly training for just such an eventuality.

It seemed the people of Remnant were not as soft as he had feared.

Although, he noted that the Headmaster didn't specify how they were going to be deployed. Perhaps they were going to make use of one of those 'Bullheads'?

Armin landed awkwardly, but he managed to roll, transferring his momentum from a downward angle to a lateral one. As he rolled back to his feet he was near instantly bodily knocked over again as he collided heavily with a tree. Much like in his fall though, his Aura protected him. Without so much as a grunt, or even a shred of embarrassment at his ungainly landing, he regained his footing and raised his weapon to survey his surroundings.

As he surveyed the forest around him, he mused that it seemed that the denizens of Remnant had much more steel in them than he had given them credit for. Launching potential students without warning from a catapult system, without giving them any form of grav-chute?

Genius.

Naturally the inclusion of Aura made such a suicidal delivery method merely risky, but it still forced a potential student to steel themselves against a sudden change in circumstances while under duress. Something that Armin grudgingly admitted he had failed in. He had been spun round and collided with a number of branches during his fall. If he had encountered a pack of Grimm while landing, he would be at a severe disadvantage, if not killed outright.

It was irritating, but true. For all of his talent and experience as a soldier of Krieg, the use of Aura was still new to him. The sudden change in speed and verticality of movement it offered had him trailing behind what he imagined his peers were capable of. He was learning, but it was not an instant process. Perhaps if he had been an Elysian the change would be easier, but the Death Korps had ever been trained in a more deliberate and slow fighting style, one that was anathema to the free flowing form Elysian's practiced. The sudden change to a three dimensional system of movement was not easy for him.

He had even seen some of the other Progena make use of their weapons as impromptu thrusters. The idea would never have even occurred to him, and even now that he knew it was possible, it still seemed ridiculous. It was just so… impractical. Weapons had one use, and one use alone. Killing. Efficiently and with minimal effort.

Why did everything on Remnant then seem to have multiple applications? If every tool was supposed to be used in multiple ways, was the same expected of the people using them? Was Armin expected to be something other than a soldier?

Irritatedly shrugging off his idle thoughts, Armin advanced deeper into the forest. He knew roughly which direction the ruined temple was in, so he moved at a fairly steady pace, but all the while his rifle scanned his surroundings. The forest was deceptively quiet, making it seem as if there was no danger present. The Grenadier was not fooled. The Grimm may not have had the ridiculous adaptability of Tyranid bioforms, or the raw unfeeling power of the Necrons, but Armin respected the danger they represented all the same. The Grimm would kill him just as surely as those other foes if he became overconfident or complacent.

A sudden silence fell over the nearby wild-life causing Armin to crouch low, furiously scanning the tree line for the disturbance. After a few moments, he heard the tell-tale crunch of leaves from ahead of him. He suspected it was a student based on the rhythm of the steps, but he refused to risk himself unnecessarily by acting rashly. A contrast to the usual thought process of the Death Korps, but the warriors of Krieg did not waste their lives pointlessly. They spent them willingly, but not wastefully. It just so happened that the universe more often than not required the Death Korps spend on mass.

'Grimm or Progena?' He pondered as he honed his weapon in on the direction the sounds were coming from. He supposed it mattered little in regards to how he would advance. He couldn't ignore it either way.

The density of the forest was a double edged sword however. It concealed him from the target he was stalking, but it also inhibited his own vision. Fortunately it seemed the Emperor was with him, because he caught a sudden flash of movement just ahead of him.

Armin crouched once more. A quick scan of his surroundings showed he had a more or less clean line of fire in the event he had to engage. A small treacherous part of him wanted to engage first, but the greater, more analytical, part of him pointed out that a possible friendly fire incident was too risky to ignore in favor of gaining a minor advantage over a possible foe.

"Ally?" He grudgingly called out. His monotone voice was slightly husky, unaccustomed as it was to shouting.

In retrospect he wished the headmaster had given them some call signs to identify ally or enemy. Combined with the lack of uniforms, it seemed that Beacon had awful operational security. Just about anyone could wander into this operation, pretend to be a Progena, and the recruits on the ground would have no way of knowing otherwise.

Still, the fact that his target hadn't immediately barreled towards him ruled out the possibility of it being Grimm. The fact that it hadn't fled in the other direction also suggested that it wasn't some other manner of wildlife. Regardless, he remained ready to fire at the first sign of hostile movement.

"Ally." A voice called back after a few moments of tense silence. Armin was not particularly sure, but he almost thought the voice sounded disappointed, or perhaps resigned.

With a rustle, a red headed female stepped out of the bushes Armin had been aiming at. With disgust he noticed that much like the 'sister' from earlier, the woman had long easily grabbed hair. He had been unfortunate in his choice of partner apparently. He would have to request she rectify that failing at her earliest convenience.

He remained steady in his aim throughout his observations. Only once the woman was fully exposed, and clearly not hostile, did he lower his weapon. If the lightly clad female noticed his reticence, she didn't say.

"We are partners now," He stated monotonously, "I am called Armin. There is no last name."

With his part said, Armin raised his weapon once more to scan the tree line.

Pyrrha for her part was taken aback by the grim business-like tone of the boy before her. She had seen him before of course, pretty much everyone from the first years had noticed the peculiarly dressed boy, but at the time she had been talking to the Schnee heiress and hadn't been able to get away to speak to him or meet anyone else at all really.

Aside from that boy, Jaune.

"Ah?" She said awkwardly, "I suppose we are partners then. It's nice to meet you, I'm Pyrrha Nikos."

She waited a moment after saying her name, but rather than the sudden fawning or awe she expected, all she received was a curt nod of the head. Well, that was good she supposed. This 'Armin' was a bit gruff perhaps, but she would take that over a ravenous fan any day. A large part of her was still disappointed that she hadn't managed to partner with Jaune, but she supposed she had originally just wanted to let the chips fall where they may.

Still, this did leave her with a slightly awkward conversation to have, especially considering she was a four time tournament champion. Before she could bring it up to her new partner, he turned abruptly toward her; that peculiar skull mask bodily latch twisting toward her. She wouldn't say it aloud, but she honestly found the effect rather creepy. More than a little dehumanizing too.

Actually now that she thought about, she had no idea what her new partner even looked like. She knew he was tall, but that was honestly about it. Was he pale? Tanned? Human? Faunus?

"Where is your offensive weapon? Is it incorporated into the shield?" Armin asked suddenly.

Pyrrha was again taken back by that strange monotonous voice, but answered anyway,

"Ah, actually I kind of threw it. I saw a Grimm and tried to take it down, but I missed. I was actually moving to recover it when we met." She said with a small awkward laugh.

She had actually attempted to use it to save and pin Jaune Arc in place, but a sudden gust of wind had thrown her aim off slightly causing Milo to miss by more than a few meters. She didn't see what happened to the Jaune after that, but she hoped he was ok.

She half hoped Armin would laugh with her, but instead he simply unhooked a peculiar boxy chainsaw thing from his waist.

'Does he have a ranged and a melee weapon?' She wondered as she regarded his similarly boxy rifle, 'Why not just have one multi-purpose one?"

"Are you familiar with a weapon such as this?" He asked as he presented the handle to her.

Pyrrha took, what she now realized was a sword, and gave it a few one-handed practice swings. It was clearly well cared for, and had seen a lot of use if the many nicks present were an indication. It was also surprisingly well balanced, even more so than her beloved Milo. After a moment she thumbed the button on the handle, and was surprised again by just how quiet the blade was as the teeth started to spin. Armin must have oiled it religiously for that.

A few more practice swings, and she felt confident that she could use the weapon passably. With a grateful grin she turned back to her partner,

"Yes thanks, I can use this for now. What's its name?"

The boy turned to her again, and she could have sworn there was a deadpan expression under that mask when he answered simply, "Sword."

She giggled at the joke, but stopped after a few moments when she realized he wasn't joining in. Evidently Armin wasn't one for jokes. Or names.

Before she could say anything else, Armin turned and gestured in the direction she had been heading toward before they met up.

"Take point, we will recover your weapon and then recover the relic."

He could have been a bit more tactful about it, but he had just loaned her his secondary weapon, which was something she knew some people could be a bit finicky about. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, so in light of that she simply advanced into the forest with a nod.

As she felt the weight of the peculiar weapon in hand her hand, she supposed she could have done worse as far as partners went. It wasn't exactly the friendship she had in mind, but it was early days, and Armin would no doubt become a bit more personable after they had been around each other for a while.