Chapter 27: Set Up
"Who would have guessed your first win over my sister would come when she could use her semblance? You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Whitley observed, strolling casually toward the pair.
"To be fair, she didn't have her weapon. And... I can't really count this as my win unless she surrenders." Asher's gaze shifted back to Weiss, still catching her breath. It took her a moment to realize he was addressing her—and that he still had her pinned to the ground.
"Fine, I surrender," she said evenly, meeting his eyes. Asher grinned before releasing her wrist and standing. He offered her a hand, which she accepted after a brief hesitation, pulling herself up. Dusting off her skirt and jacket, she quickly smoothed her hair, a faint frown tugging at her lips.
"Did you have to be so rough? This was one of my favorite outfits." She gestured at the grass stains marring her deep blue button-up jacket and matching skirt.
"Look at this—completely ruined!"
"Apologies," Asher replied, his tone light.
"But since you threw the first punch—if we're calling that dropkick a punch—I figured it was no holds barred." Whitley let out a chuckle, prompting Weiss to turn her glare on him. He raised his hands innocently.
"What? He's got a point."
Before Weiss could retort, a faint whirring sound from Asher's O.M.N.I. Frame drew their attention. The LEDs lining the frame dimmed, and the visors on Asher's face transitioned from transparent back to a solid red. With a faint frown, he removed them and powered the system down.
Weiss ignored her brother, instead focusing on Asher.
"Does it shut off automatically?"
"No, it just ran out of power." His response drew matching surprised looks from both Weiss and Whitley.
"Really?" Whitley asked, arching a brow.
"I was testing its capabilities before you two showed up, so it was already running low. Plus, the power draw and coolant systems are too demanding for the type of Dust crystals I used." Asher explained while reaching a hand behind his neck.
As his fingers brushed the power module, the clamps on the dust crystal released with a faint hiss. Holding the now-dull crystal out for the siblings to see, he added, "See? This one's drained."
Whitley studied the crystal with a critical eye, the loss of its usual ethereal glow leaving it lackluster and lifeless. He then reached out, gesturing toward the crystal. Asher gave a brief nod, allowing him to take it.
Turning it over in his hands, Whitley held the drained crystal up to the light, scrutinizing it closer.
"This is pretty average in quality—B-tier at best. Still, it's probably Grade 2 in terms of purity. As long as it has a high energy density output, even military-grade equipment would take some time to drain a crystal like this," he remarked, his brow furrowing as his gaze shifted to Asher and the O.M.N.I. Frame covering his body.
"So... just how much power does that exoskeleton of yours use?"
"More than I anticipated," Asher admitted, exhaling faintly before elaborating.
"When I calculated its energy consumption for high-intensity scenarios, it was before I integrated the coolant system. I didn't account for how much power it would take to cool the processor, motors, and other components—and how that would impact the crystal's energy transfer efficiency." Whitley nodded, his tone turning more analytical.
"That tracks. Dust crystals degrade the longer they're exposed to external factors, especially conflicting elements. The lower the quality, the more unstable and less efficient they become. If you don't want that thing blowing up on your neck, you'll need a higher-quality crystal." He tossed the drained crystal back to Asher, who caught it smoothly.
"I'd expect no less insight from a Schnee," Asher replied, his tone carrying a faint hint of humor.
"Since you're already giving advice, perhaps you'd be willing to help me acquire some of those higher-quality crystals?" Whitley's neutral expression curled into a knowing smile as he raised a hand to his chin.
"Oh? Trying to use our relationship to pull some strings? I wouldn't have pegged you for that type—especially when we both know you can afford to buy them outright."
"Having money doesn't mean you should spend it recklessly, especially when there are more cost-effective solutions available," Asher countered.
"My father taught me that. Besides, you're the one who brought it up." Whitley rubbed his chin in mock deliberation, feigning deep thought.
"Hmm... fine. I'll see what I can do. But you'll owe me a favor."
"Deal." Asher didn't hesitate, extending his hand. Whitley clasped it with a firm grip, their handshake carrying the distinct air of negotiation between seasoned businessmen rather than children.
"Though even with a higher-quality crystal, the constant fluctuations in the energy transfer rate as the crystal degrades will still cause problems for the system," Asher muttered, more to himself than to Whitley or Weiss. Whitley tapped his chin thoughtfully before offering a suggestion.
"What if you created a thermal insulation chamber around the power source? That way, the coolant could circulate through the rest of the frame without transferring heat back to the crystal and compromising its quality." Asher paused, tilting his head as he mentally ran through the implications.
"That... is actually a solid idea. I'd need to rework some component placements, but it could work." His tone made it clear he considered the suggestion a genuine compliment.
"Of course, it's a good idea," Whitley replied with a faint trace of pride that he skillfully tempered into a more professional tone.
"It's the same principle we use when handling opposite elemental types of Dust in the same container. You maintain a temperature balance to preserve both without compromising their quality." While Asher and Whitley had been talking, Weiss had been deep in thought, her expression unreadable.
Finally, she spoke her words carrying the weight of a realization.
"Wait. If your O.M.N.I. Frame just ran out of power... does that mean if I hadn't surrendered, I could have won?"
"Probably," Asher replied with a shrug.
"It's not like I could have incapacitated you without it." Weiss frowned, jabbing her practice sword into the ground as she crossed her arms.
"If I'd known that, I would've fought harder," she muttered, her gaze dropping briefly before locking onto Asher again.
"But at least now I know your frame's weakness. Next time, I won't lose," she declared, her confidence bolstered. Asher couldn't help but chuckle.
"We'll see. But keep in mind, this is just a prototype. If you plan on challenging me again once it's finished, you're going to need to get a lot stronger." Whitley raised a brow, a note of surprise slipping into his voice.
"Wait, you're planning to make that thing even more powerful?"
"Of course," Asher answered, nodding.
"The O.M.N.I. Frame was my attempt at replicating the abnormal strength Huntsmen are known for. Now that I've collected baseline data, I can refine and improve on it."
"I see. And are you planning to sell this O.M.N.I. Frame to the Atlesian Military when you meet with General Ironwood?" Whitley's question made Asher pause, his expression thoughtful as he rocked his head back and forth.
"Maybe, but not yet. This isn't the kind of technology Atlas needs right now." His answer was cryptic, drawing curious looks from both Schnee siblings. Before either could press him for clarification, a voice called out from behind them, near the manor.
"What are you three doing out here?" They turned to see Nillia leaning over the stone deck railing, gazing down at them in the yard.
"Oh, nothing much," Asher replied with a casual wave.
"Just chatting about my sparring match with Weiss." Both Weiss and Whitley immediately picked up on the shift in Asher's tone—he clearly didn't want to bring up his military plans in front of his mother. Playing along, Weiss nodded.
"That's right," she chimed in with a polite smile.
"It was a close match, so we were just giving each other some pointers."
Whitley added with a grin, "You'll be pleased to hear, Mrs. Frostvale, that your son has officially claimed his first victory over my sister."
Nillia raised a brow, her gaze flickering between Asher and Weiss, lingering on the grass-stained state of Weiss's clothes.
"Is that so? I remember Asher mentioning that he's been practicing self-defense and sparring when he visits you two. I hope you're not being too rough with each other." Her voice carried a playful lilt, drawing light laughter from the group.
"Just a little roughhousing—nothing to worry about, ma'am," Weiss replied, brushing another stray blade of grass from her jacket.
"I see. Well then, since you're here, how about joining Asher and me for lunch? His father is still at the company, so it'll just be the four of us." Weiss and Whitley exchanged glances before looking toward Asher, who simply smiled, leaving the decision to them.
"That sounds wonderful," Weiss answered warmly for both of them.
"Perfect," Nillia said, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"But please, don't call me ma'am—it makes me feel old." With a soft chuckle, she gestured for them to join her. Asher grabbed his jacket before all three ascended the far-right staircase to the stone deck. Passing through the glass doors into the manor, they found Lavi waiting just inside, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
"The Schnees will be staying for lunch," Nillia informed her.
"I think it would be lovely to eat out on one of the upper-floor balconies if everyone agrees?" Asher and the Schnee siblings nodded, and Lavi gave a polite bow.
"Of course, Madam. If you'll follow me, please," she said, gesturing for Weiss and Whitley to follow her. As the group moved out of view, Nillia lightly touched Asher's arm, motioning for him to stay behind.
Once alone, she began to stroll casually through the manor's halls, Asher walking beside her in silence.
"I know I've said it before, but I really am glad you've made friends, Asher." Nillia's voice was soft, every word laced with warmth as she glanced at her son.
"I probably shouldn't admit this as your mother, but I always worried you might not form meaningful relationships because of how we raised you."
"Really? And here I thought I was the picture-perfect son," Asher replied with a coy smirk, tilting his head playfully. Nillia laughed, nudging him lightly as she covered her mouth.
"You know that's not what I meant. I just… didn't want you to grow into someone who only cared about the family legacy. For the first ten years of your life—before..." Her words trailed off briefly before she continued, her tone softer.
"Well, before the coma, your father and I worried we might've molded you too much. That you wouldn't grow to appreciate the joy of having people close to you." Asher remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead as they strolled down the hall.
"But after you woke up, you changed," she continued.
"Not that the coma was a good thing—it nearly broke me and your father when you suddenly collapsed, screaming like that. But... seeing you now, interacting with people, it's a relief. Even Lavi has noticed how much more open you've become, though she says you've gotten a lot more sly too."
"I wonder where I got that from," Asher quipped, drawing another giggle from his mother. The laughter faded into a gentle silence, and after a few moments, Asher spoke again.
"Ever since I woke up, I've had this sense of who I need to be—who I have to become. I've found something I want... no, something I need to work toward. I can't explain it—not to you, not to Father. But... I feel like I'm on the right path. At least a little." Nillia listened quietly, the same way Asher had listened to her earlier.
There was a flicker of understanding in her eyes, mingled with curiosity. Even if she didn't fully grasp what had changed her son during his coma, she felt, for the first time in a long while, that she could at least glimpse his thoughts. After a moment, she spoke.
"Well, I'm glad you've found something to strive for. It took your father years of stumbling—and meeting me—before he figured out what he wanted. We helped each other find our way."
"He does always say you two were made for each other," Asher commented with a slight shrug.
"It's true," Nillia replied with a laugh.
"So I suppose it's fair for him to keep saying it." Her tone shifted, a playful edge creeping in.
"Speaking of pairs... I can't help but be curious about you and the Schnee family's youngest daughter. From what I can tell, you two are getting pretty close." Asher sighed lightly, recognizing the prying tone in her voice.
"Well, she's quite competitive," Asher admitted.
"I suppose her seeing me as a sort of rival has made becoming friends easier." Nillia's gaze sharpened with curiosity at his answer. She tilted her head slightly, the hint of a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"And what do you think about her? Should I be making plans or... nudging things along?" There was an excited, almost gossip-like tone in her voice that made Asher glance sideways at her.
"Are you asking this as my mother, or as an executive of Frostvale Enterprises interested in a potential merger down the line?"
"Is it so wrong if I'm asking as both?" she replied innocently, her teasing smile widening.
Asher sighed, tilting his head back to gaze at the ceiling.
"I suppose I can't lie and say the idea hasn't crossed my mind. But... I'm not sure yet." Despite the caution in his words, they seemed to ignite something in Nillia. She clapped her hands together, her excitement kicking up a notch.
"Oh my goodness, my son is actually interested in a girl. This is adorable!"
"That's not what I said."
"Oh, just wait till your father hears about this. I can already picture his reaction."
"I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known you'd act like this."
Their playful banter carried them out onto the balcony, where the Schnee siblings were waiting. The balcony, one of many at the manor, overlooked the sprawling estate grounds. The view stretched far, unobstructed by clouds, with sunlight bathing the landscape in a golden hue. It was the perfect spot for a leisurely lunch on such a bright day.
Lunch was simple yet refined: club sandwiches accompanied by chilled glasses of water. The sandwiches featured slices of roasted duck breast, crispy bacon, sweet tomato, and black garlic, all layered with other vegetables between two perfectly toasted pieces of bread. The combination fell apart in the mouth, each bite a balance of savory and smoky flavors.
For most of the meal, Nillia led the conversation. She kept the topics light, asking the kinds of questions you'd expect a parent to pose to young guests. But Asher noticed her occasional subtle shifts—questions that seemed casual but were unmistakably designed to uncover Weiss's likes and dislikes.
The most obvious moment, however, came at the end of lunch.
"That was delicious. Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Frostvale," Weiss said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin before setting it neatly beside her plate.
"It was surprising; we don't get to eat meals like this very often," Whitley added, washing down his last bite with a sip of water.
"I'm glad you both enjoyed it," Nillia said with a smile.
"I know you'll be leaving soon, but before you go, I was wondering—would either of you be interested in a sleepover sometime in the future?" Asher turned to look at her, immediately recognizing what she was doing. When their eyes met, she responded with a subtle, knowing look.
"A sleepover?" Whitley repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"That's right," Nillia replied, her tone light and nostalgic.
"It's something my own mother used to plan for me and my friends when I was younger. Ever since I had Asher, I've been looking forward to doing the same for him one day. And now he finally has friends to do it with." Her words seemed perfectly innocent, and neither Weiss nor Whitley looked opposed to the idea.
Whitley, however, appeared contemplative.
"I don't think I've ever been invited to a sleepover before," he murmured.
"I have," Weiss admitted, "but I stopped going. They always felt so forced. Everyone seemed too worried about keeping up appearances, and it just made things awkward."
Hearing that, Nillia waved a dismissive hand.
"Oh, no, that's not what I have in mind. Think of it as a small overnight get-together—something casual. Of course, only if you want to. I wouldn't want to pressure you into anything."
"No, no, it... it sounds nice," Weiss replied softly. She glanced toward Asher.
"Are you okay with this?"
Asher hesitated briefly, his gaze flicking to his mother. Seeing the spark of happiness in her eyes, he allowed himself a small smile.
"Of course. It sounds fun. My room is big enough for it, at least."
Weiss's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait, we'd be sleeping in... Asher's room?" There was something unreadable in her voice as she turned to Nillia.
"That was the idea," Nillia answered gently.
"But if you'd prefer, we could use a guest room or even the liv-"
"No, it's fine," Weiss interrupted quickly, shaking her head.
"His room is... fine. I just wanted to be sure. So, what do you think, Whitley?" She turned to her brother.
Whitley shrugged after a moment of thought.
"I doubt Father would have an issue with it if we both ask. And it does sound like it could be entertaining. So... sure, why not?"
With their agreements in place, Nillia's face lit up with a radiant smile. Clapping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Wonderful! Then it's decided."