A Path To Omniscience

Asher and Weiss stepped into the dim, flashing red hallways. The moment they did, GAIA's voice rang crisply in Asher's ears.

[Activating Dark View.]

From the outside, the visors' white luminescence remained unchanged, but inside, Asher watched as his dynamic HUD refreshed, cascading from top to bottom. As it did, the once-shadowed hallway transformed, mapped out in a sleek grid format.

It wasn't flawless—the areas with even a hint of light appeared fully illuminated, and in the pitch-black sections, the visors outlined the hallway's structure with partial geometric precision. To Asher, it might as well have been the middle of the afternoon.

"Where are we going first?" Weiss asked.

"The bridge." Asher moved forward, taking the lead as he explained, "If we can take back the bridge, we can activate the ship's autopilot and set course back for Atlas."

"And then we handle the rest," Weiss added. Asher nodded, and they turned the corner, stepping into a new corridor. Ahead, the path split—a hallway branching off the hallway they were in now, while the main path curved deeper into the airship.

"Should we split up?" Weiss suggested, her expression thoughtful. She knew if they wanted to secure the bridge, they needed to clear out all the White Fang members along the way. Otherwise, the moment they left, the enemy would just retake control and redirect the ship to their intended drop point.

"You think you can manage on your own?" Asher asked, prompting Weiss to adopt a mock expression of offense.

"Of course I can. In fact, I bet I'll reach the bridge before you do." Her boast came with a playful smirk, her usual confident smile shining through. Asher raised an eyebrow, then nodded, a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Hmm... Well, alright then. Our date did get interrupted, and you do love competition, so I suppose I owe you a bit of fun, right?" Weiss's smile faltered into brief surprise as she tried to gauge whether Asher was serious.

Noticing her expression, Asher leaned in slightly.

"What? Not interested now?" She blinked, and then her confident smile returned. Her posture straightened, and a determined look settled in her eyes.

"No, of course not. I was just surprised," she replied.

"Sparring and duels are one thing when you're facing a single opponent. But do you really think you can keep up with me against multiple?" A teasing edge sharpened her words, layered beneath a veil of certainty.

In the end, during all of our matches, he's always been more defensive. I'm faster than him, even when he's using the O.M.N.I. Frame. He uses our duels to his advantage, making me come to him. But our opponents have guns—his defensive play won't work this time.

Meanwhile, I'm fast enough to avoid getting shot, and even if I take a few hits, my aura can handle it.

No matter how she turned it over in her mind, victory felt practically guaranteed.

"I suppose we'll just have to see, won't we?" Asher's expression remained calm.

"But if you do win, what do you want as a reward?" Weiss considered it, tapping a finger to her lips.

"Hmm... Well, you've been pretty busy lately. Maybe I should make you spend a whole week with me?" Her playful tone drew a chuckle from Asher.

"You know, you don't have to win a bet just to get me to spend more time with you." Her eyes narrowed at him, lips pursing in mild frustration.

"I'm starting to think I'll never get a rise out of you, no matter what I say." She sighed, the exhale soft but expressive.

"Fine. I guess I'll have to think of something. Right now, I'm blanking for some reason." A moment later, her eyes lit up again.

"But what about you? On the slim chance you actually beat me—what do you want as a reward?" Asher pretended to mull it over, but there was a glint in his gaze. He hadn't proposed this bet without a reason, and he already knew exactly what he wanted.

"How about you come down to Mantle with me next time I have some business there?"

Weiss's eyebrows rose at the suggestion.

"Mantle?" She echoed, the word barely above a murmur.

"Yeah," Asher confirmed.

"I'm guessing you've never really been down to Mantle before, right?" Weiss thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"Not really. Just a few opening ceremonies or private events with my father, but never on my own. But... if that's what you want, then fine. Maybe it'll be fun. And it'll be interesting to see what you get up to down there." With that, their little competition was on. Weiss turned down the branching hallway they'd come across, her footsteps light and purposeful.

Asher continued down the main corridor, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

When I go down to Mantle with Liv, I'll have to remember to bring Weiss along. She understands what her father's doing, the state of things down there, but she's never seen it with her own eyes. If I can get her to see it all up close, she'll realize she can do more good for others—and her family—by staying in Atlas.

Weiss taking over the Schnee Dust Company was always a must for Asher's plans. But first things first, he needed to win this little bet.

As Asher moved through the hallway, the O.M.N.I. Frame synced seamlessly with his natural movements. His casual stride matched the speed of a full sprint, and when he ran, his velocity spiked sharply. It didn't take long before he encountered two White Fang members, armed and patrolling with their backs turned to him.

He acted instantly. There was another reason he'd agreed to split up with Weiss—it allowed him to use the Nexus Space without limitations, including testing the prototypes of his gadgets and weapons. Without slowing down, Asher extended his right hand as if holding an invisible object while running.

A moment later, the Nexus Space responded, materializing a device in his palm.

It was a small, circular gadget, no bigger than a kiwi fruit. The metal plating and rubberized edges framed a screen panel display on its front half. Asher's fingers moved rapidly, pressing the three side buttons in a precise sequence without even glancing down.

The screen's display shifted in response:

[S.G-1]

[Mode: Light Burst]

[Intensity: High]

[(E)Duration: 0.5s]

His rapid footsteps finally caught the attention of the White Fang patrol. They turned, confusion etched across their faces.

"Huh, who the hell-" Before the words were fully formed, Asher hurled the device. It spun through the air, and within half a second, the screen blinked off as the gadget burst open at its seams.

An intense white light swallowed the dim hallway, drowning out even the blaring emergency red lights.

"Agh!"

"My eyes!"

Both White Fang members cried out, instantly blinded. One dropped his gun as he instinctively rubbed his eyes. Asher's focus zeroed in on the other still armed, seemingly unaffected by the flash. 

Mid-run, he leaped forward, his body arcing gracefully through the air. His legs snapped open and wrapped around the remaining White Fang member's neck. With a swift twist of his body, his momentum merged with the O.M.N.I. Frame's mechanical precision. The combined force drove the attacker onto the floor with a resounding bang.

A follow-up strike to the face crushed their mask, the fragments mixing with blood as the White Fang member's body went limp beneath him.

"Fu- Fuck! What did you do?" The remaining member shouted, squinting through the blinding haze. His vision barely registered the blurred outline of Asher and his partner sprawled on the ground.

He raised his gun, but he was far too slow. The O.M.N.I. Frame's mechanisms whirred in sync, and Asher darted forward.

A sharp palm strike sent the pistol flying from the attacker's grip. Asher jumped, snatching the weapon mid-air, and then brought it down hard against the side of his opponent's head.

The pistol whip, amplified by the O.M.N.I. Frame's enhanced strength snapped the White Fang member's head sideways. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Standing over the two unconscious bodies, Asher inspected the pistol he'd grabbed. It wasn't a Dust-powered weapon—those were expensive and not something the White Fang handed out easily to foot soldiers, even with their considerable resources. This pistol was more basic, using traditional bullets with Dust only serving to propel each round.

He popped out the magazine and noted it was still fully loaded before snapping it back in place and chambering a round. His gaze shifted to the downed White Fang members, his mind already weighing his options.

Should I kill them? No... I'm trying to win over the Faunus population. A headline saying the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company and the heir to Frostvale Enterprises killed their captors would be more polarizing than saying we subdued them. Not to mention, even Weiss doesn't seem interested in killing them.

Asher's expression hardened as he shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

Then again... If this situation ended with zero casualties, people might not think it was that serious. When no one dies, the public often downplays incidents like this. But if their leader dies... it's the perfect narrative for a post-incident interview.

He could almost see it now—if he balanced the roles of victim and hero just right, the story would sell itself. The 'responsible' party would be dead, and those who followed him safely locked away. It was the oldest story in the book: the hero doesn't slay every demon, just the demon king.

People liked it when the solution was as simple as cutting off the head of the snake. And if he had to guess, the leader of this White Fang operation would be on the bridge—the exact place he was already headed.

=====================================•=====================================

"What the hell is wrong with all of you!? He's just a kid—shoot him!" One of the White Fang members shouted, his voice sharp with frustration. Asher had shown up while he and the rest of his group were looting. In an airship like this, it wasn't unusual to find cargo worth a fortune on the black market.

It had started with three White Fang members ransacking one of the lounge rooms. They'd overheard the commotion Asher caused while taking out the first two White Fang members.

"Huh? Did you guys hear that?" One of them asked, his hands still wrapped around a delicate vase as he placed it onto a cart they'd wheeled into the lavishly decorated lounge. The other two paused, their gazes shifting toward the door.

They held their breath, listening. But aside from the hum of the airship slicing through the sky, silence greeted them.

"It's probably just the other group in the storage room next door," another member muttered as he carefully lifted a painting off the wall.

"Commander told them to hurry up. They probably don't care about making a mess. That doesn't apply to us, though. We need to be careful with all this, or it won't make it to the black market in one piece."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," the first member agreed with a shrug, returning to his work.

But then—bang!

A heavy thud against the lounge door cut through the room, sharp and sudden. This time, all three heard it, their movements freezing as they exchanged wary glances.

The third White Fang member, who had been securing items to the cart, slowly reached for the axe strapped to his back. His gloved fingers tightened around the handle as he gestured for the others to stay quiet. His steps were cautious, each footfall as soft as he could manage, as he edged toward the door.

"Who is it-" Before the last word left his lips, the door exploded off its hinges. It slammed into him with a brutal force, sending him crashing backward into the cart they had been loading with stolen goods. Metal clanged, glass shattered, and artifacts tumbled into a chaotic heap.

"Oh, shit!" The White Fang member near the painting snapped out of his shock, his hands fumbling for the rifle slung over his shoulder. Asher burst into the room, his visor's HUD instantly mapping out the threat. Trajectory lines lit up, tracking the barrel's aim.

The White Fang member pulled the trigger, unleashing a storm of bullets. Asher ducked low, the instant reflex helping him avoid the initial bloom. The room erupted—couches ripped apart, fluff filling the air like snow, wooden furniture splintering under the barrage.

Asher darted to the right, his visor guiding him through the chaos. The predicted bullet paths drew a deadly web across his vision. He circled the room, his shoes briefly tapping against the walls as he ran along them, temporarily defying gravity with the O.M.N.I. Frame's augmented speed.

A trail of bullet holes followed him until—click.

The rifle was empty.

Asher's expression shifted, cold and focused. He launched off the wall, his body twisting mid-air. His leg swung around like a whip, the heel connecting with the shooter's head. The impact sent the White Fang member crashing into the wall they had just been looting, his body slumping to the ground.

With two down, Asher turned his attention to the last conscious member in the room—the one who had been carefully handling the vase moments before.

The man's eyes widened, terror replacing shock. His hand dropped to the sword at his hip, the blade sliding free with a metallic hiss.

"Don't," Asher warned, his voice calm and edged. The man didn't listen. Steel gleamed as he drew his weapon, but Asher's reaction was instantaneous. The pistol he had taken earlier materialized in his hand, pulled from the Nexus Space in a blur of motion.

Two shots rang out.

The bullets tore into the man's thighs, and he screamed, his legs buckling as he crumpled to the floor.

Before he even fully hit his knees, Asher was on him. The O.M.N.I. Frame hummed, siphoning power to amplify his movements. His initial step closed the distance in a flash, a blur of motion accompanied by a low, mechanical whir.

Asher's palm struck the man's chin. The force of the blow, combined with the momentum of his fall, snapped his head back. The light in his eyes faded as his body went limp. The room fell silent, the only sounds left were the soft hum of the airship and the slow settling of dust.

It had all happened in less than a minute.

Asher scanned the room briefly before a commotion in the hallway drew his attention. He took a measured breath and stepped out, his expression calm as he faced the White Fang members spilling out of the storage room next door. Their frantic movements stilled when they saw him.

"Is- Isn't that Asher Frostvale?" One of them stuttered, his voice trembling. Recognition sparked through the group, and unease settled in.

"Yeah, but... isn't he supposed to be with the hostages? What's he doing here?"

"Who cares about that!? Don't you see he has a gun!?" The sharp observation snapped everyone's focus to Asher's weapon. One of the White Fang members reacted instantly, raising his pistol. But Asher's draw was faster, his movements fluid and precise.

A single shot rang out.

Asher's bullet flew straight and true, threading the needle. It drove down the barrel of the raised pistol just as the trigger was pulled.

The weapon exploded.

Shrapnel burst outward, metal fragments slicing through the air. The White Fang member who had held the gun bore the brunt of it. His scream filled the hallway as shards tore into his skin, shredded his clothes, and punctured one of his eyes. Blood splattered against the walls, painting a vivid and violent canvas.

"Han!" Another White Fang member shouted, horror giving way to fury. His expression twisted with rage as he charged at Asher, a knife gleaming in his hand. The presence of Asher's gun seemed to have slipped his mind entirely—or perhaps he was too far gone to care.

But Asher didn't fire.

The attacker swung the knife, aiming for Asher's neck. Asher's left hand shot out, catching the blade mid-swing. The segmented joints of the O.M.N.I. Frame shifted, locking and unlocking with mechanical precision. The force of the stab dissipated in an instant, crushed by Asher's ironclad grip.

"Agh... How did you-" The question died in the man's throat as Asher twisted his arm. The limb bent the wrong way, a grotesque snap echoing down the hall. The scream that followed was raw and primal.

Asher yanked the dislocated arm forward, his other leg sweeping beneath the attacker's feet. The White Fang member crashed to the ground, his body crumpling in a heap.

Without hesitation, Asher raised his foot and brought it down.

Crunch.

The scream stopped abruptly. Silence fell, thick and suffocating.

Asher didn't look at the broken body beneath him. As he lifted his shoe, blood dripped from the sole, pooling against the pristine floor. His gaze moved to the remaining five members of the White Fang—excluding the one writhing on the floor, shards of metal embedded in his flesh.

Even he had gone silent, his good eye wide with shock, staring at Asher with an expression caught between terror and disbelief.

"Unless you want to end up like them, I suggest you surrender and lock yourselves in that storage room you just left." Asher's voice was calm, his words slipping through the air like serpents. They coiled tightly around the hearts of the remaining White Fang members, constricting the courage out of them.

Silence hung between them. None of the five moved. Their eyes darted to one another, uncertainty etched into every furrowed brow and quivering lip.

Finally, one of them broke.

"What the hell is wrong with all of you!? He's just a kid—shoot him!" Three of them had guns, but the sheer shock of what Asher had done left them paralyzed. It was only after the outburst that their instincts kicked in, adrenaline spurring them into action.

Asher sighed.

"Alright then." He raised his gun, but instead of aiming at them, he fired three quick shots at the emergency lights overhead.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The red lights shattered, and the hallway plunged into absolute darkness. Shadows swallowed everything whole, and even Asher's night vision faltered in the pitch black.

"GAIA, enter stealth-ready mode."

[Stealth Mode activated.]

The LEDs on the O.M.N.I. Frame blinked off, and the soft mechanical hum of the suit faded into silence.

GAIA's augmented reality system kicked in. Even in the dark, the AI used environmental data and previous scans to render a wireframe model of the hallway. Asher saw it all in sharp, digital outlines—walls, doors, every obstacle and potential cover.

The White Fang, however, weren't so fortunate.

"Where- where did he go? Where's the flashlights?"

"The other group had them!"

"Shit, something just moved behind-"

Silence.

The speaker's voice cut off abruptly, and the remaining four froze. The hallway became a void, where sound was the only sense they could trust—and even that betrayed them.

Over the next few minutes, sporadic flashes of light burst from gunfire, illuminating fragments of chaos. Asher moved like a wraith, weaving through the dark. His presence was felt only in brief, terrifying moments—the cool brush of air, the soft rustle of fabric, the metallic click of a weapon being disarmed.

One by one, they fell. Disarmed, disabled, or worse. Not a single one managed to catch more than a fleeting shadow.

Then, silence reclaimed the hallway.

A steady rhythm of footsteps emerged. Asher stepped into the next corridor, where the emergency lights still glowed. A faint splash of blood marked his cheek, a dark contrast against his otherwise uninjured face. He wiped it away with his thumb, his expression as calm as ever.

"Considering the length of the airship, the bridge should be just down this last corridor," he murmured.

I did take a while handling all the White Fang on the way here. I wonder if Weiss beat me to the bridge. If she did, I suppose I'll have to come up with another reason to show her around Mantle.