In the end, nearly a hundred people showed up in response to Liv's invitation. Most of them had arrived with doubts, but after touring Karatheon, things changed. By the time the tour wrapped up, Asher had personally met with several people who were ready to apply on the spot.
Interestingly, the people who showed the most interest fell at opposite ends of the spectrum.
Some were the wide-eyed idealists—those who simply wanted to help, to be part of something meaningful. Asher didn't hold that against them. In fact, he appreciated it. People like that helped keep the world from turning completely bleak. Their hopefulness had a way of spreading.
Still, balance was important. There had to be people who were just as good-hearted, but with a more grounded view of things.
Flaye was a perfect example. She—and others like her—asked the most questions, dug the deepest, and pushed the hardest during the tour. And it was only after seeing things for themselves and recognizing the potential that they chose to apply. Just like Liv, they started to harbor a belief in Karatheon—and, even more, in Asher.
In a way, Asher would say Liv belonged in that same group.
Of course, not everyone fell into one of those two extremes.
There were plenty in the middle—people who stayed quiet, observed carefully, and kept their opinions close to the chest. Cautious, wary, and not easily swayed, even after everything Asher had shown them. And that was fair. He understood. Still, he was confident that once Karatheon started gaining traction and making visible change, they'd come around.
After all, none of them had walked away with a bad impression. Even that was a win in Asher's book. He'd made sure to tell everyone—especially those who hadn't decided yet—that they were always welcome, and if they ever came back, he'd personally skip them past the first round of interviews.
A solid incentive when the time came.
Once he'd finished collecting the contact info of those who were interested and walked everyone to the front gate, the tour officially ended. After that, Asher and Liv headed back to his office on the top floor of the rear management building.
"Honestly, I feel like I should stop being surprised when things go this well," Liv said as she sat on his desk across from him, her tail resting on the tempered glass surface and curling slightly over the other side.
"It always works out when you're involved. Maybe one day I'll get used to it."
From his seat behind the desk, Asher smiled faintly at her comment.
"As much as I'd love for you to get used to success," he said, "I'm afraid it's only going this smoothly because we're still in the early stages. We've been able to keep most of this self-contained so far, without too many people poking around in our business. That's the benefit of setting down the groundwork before trying to build anything big."
Leaning back on her hands, Liv pressed her palms to the glass surface of the desk and looked over her shoulder.
"So you're saying things are going to get harder?"
Asher shrugged.
"Maybe. I'm not a fortune teller... well, at least not a very good one yet. For now, my focus is on vetting applicants and finding roles that actually suit them. That, and handling the Insurgency. They've already cleared out most of the trash we could deal with in the open. As for the rest—the ones more deeply embedded in the city—I've already got the evidence I need. I'm working on getting them behind bars as we speak."
"Sounds like things are going to be pretty straightforward then," Liv said, her expression thoughtful.
"In a sense," Asher agreed.
"Right now, all we need to do is wait and make sure nothing flies too far off the rails."
Liv shifted forward and slid off Asher's desk, her tail trailing after her as she landed lightly.
"Sounds like a plan, boss."
Asher raised a brow and leaned back in his chair.
"Boss? Is that what you're calling me now?"
She gave him a playful look.
"Hmm, probably not. Just wanted to test it out. But… I like calling you Asher more." With a smile, she turned toward the door and continued speaking as she walked.
"Anyway, I'll just keep doing what I've been doing—spreading the word in the communities I'm in, keeping people curious. Now that so many of them have met you in person, that should be a lot easier."
"Perfect," Asher replied with a dry smirk.
"Maybe one of these days I'll convince my parents to give you a bonus for the free advertising."
That made Liv laugh. She placed a hand on the door and glanced back at him one last time.
"Sounds like a plan."
The door opened, then shut behind her, leaving Asher alone in his office.
=====================================•=====================================
March 16th, 2034
As another month rolled by, even more funding from Asher's contract with his parents began to come in. The timing couldn't have been better—he was just about to start purchasing additional warehouses, which he planned to convert into fully automated factories.
Fortunately, thanks to Russet's contact as an especially eager broker, the whole process was smooth sailing.
Most of the warehouses surrounding his first facility were already on the market. And with a few strategic escrow purchases, acquiring them became almost routine.
As for the renovations and construction, Asher didn't have to look far. The same construction crews he'd hired to build out the first factory and, more recently, his company's building were still available. They'd already proven themselves more than capable, and with the experience under their belt, expanding operations would be even easier this time around.
Plus, he was sure they'd welcome the extra business.
Meanwhile, the Insurgency was continuing to make constant progress. When personal motivation lines up with mission objectives, things tend to move fast—and Indigo and her team didn't need much pushing. At this stage, most of the more obvious threats on their list had either been arrested or, in cases where resistance was too heavy, permanently neutralized.
Crime rates had also dropped significantly, though public concern and media speculation were starting to rise.
The Insurgency's activities were difficult for reporters to track, which helped keep things from escalating, but the sheer frequency of operations had begun to make people nervous. Internally, however, things were still in order, thanks to Winter and Ironwood keeping everything running smoothly on the Atlas side.
Still, one issue was starting to come up more often—the overuse of Atlas soldiers and city police resources. Asher knew he couldn't rely on borrowed manpower forever. That's why he was already working on a solution—not just by expanding the Insurgency, but by laying the groundwork for an entirely new task force.
Of course, building a new force meant finding people to join it. And that wasn't exactly easy when most of the division's activities were still classified or operating in the shadows. The recent appearances of the Insurgency in the news weren't just for intimidation—they were the first step in a broader campaign to build visibility, to get the public used to seeing them, and eventually, to recruit from among them.
As he'd once told Liv, part of the plan hinged on the Insurgency being made up of Faunus.
That visibility was meant to stir the rest of the Faunus population within the crater—spark something in them, make them feel represented, and, eventually, encourage them to step forward.
Of course, planning for the future wasn't the only thing keeping Asher busy.
At the moment, Asher wasn't at his company or even in his home workshop. Instead, he was seated beside his parents in their hovering limousine as it made its way up the winding mountain roads toward the Schnee Manor, perched high above the city of Atlas.
The ride reminded him of the first time he'd visited the Schnees, and the reason for this visit wasn't all that different.
Today was Whitley Schnee's birthday.
Even if he wasn't the heir to the Schnee Dust Company like his sister, the event was still treated as an opportunity to bring people together and strengthen alliances. This time, though, the gathering felt a little more relaxed.
Compared to before—when the Frostvales and Schnees had only just become acquainted—their recent business dealings and the growing friendship between their children had made things feel more personal.
Whitley had even personally sent the invitation to Asher and his family.
"Ah, I swear, it's like kids grow up faster once you actually get to know them," Nillia said with a fond smile as she gazed into the mirror folded down from the roof of the limo cabin. She was retouching her makeup, fixing the black gloss on her lips, and adding a bit more mascara to her lashes.
Her husband, Vance, nodded from beside her.
"How old is he turning again?"
"Thirteen," Asher answered without looking up, his focus locked onto the scroll expanded to tablet size in his hands. One of the benefits of having all his servers hooked into a private network was that he could keep working, even while away from his workshop or office.
Nillia paused with her makeup brush, gave her son a sideways glance, and sighed before turning to her husband.
"Great. Another habit he's picked up from you. If he starts working through dinner, just know I'm holding you responsible."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Vance replied, not missing a beat.
"A solid work ethic is good for him—especially now that he's running a company." His wife clearly wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she smoothly changed the subject.
"Speaking of which," Nillia said, "how is Karatheon doing, dear? It's a shame, but your father and I still haven't found the time to visit since construction finished."
Almost as if responding to their conversation, Asher powered down his scroll and slipped it into his pocket before answering.
"It's doing well. Hiring was a little slow at first, but we've been getting a steady stream of applications lately. Liv's reputation helped a lot—word spreads fast in the communities she's part of. Most of the major positions are already filled with solid candidates. There are just a few niche roles left to take care of, which I'll probably handle through personal interviews."
"I see," Vance said, nodding thoughtfully.
"So what are you expecting your final employee count to look like?"
Asher paused to think for a second.
"Well, based on current projections… probably around a hundred."
That number caught both his parents by surprise. Nillia, finishing the last touch of her makeup, raised an eyebrow.
"Only a hundred? Huh. I suppose that makes sense, considering how many of the roles you've replaced with those androids you told us about. I have to admit, they've piqued my curiosity. Are you planning to sell them?"
At that, Asher gave a sly smirk.
"Oh? Is my mother that eager to see her son's company lose its competitive edge?"
Nillia lifted a hand to her chest and feigned mock offense.
"Asher, I would never. I'm simply saying… there's no harm in sharing that competitive edge."
Asher's gaze narrowed slightly, amused but considering her words.
"Right. Well, I do plan to sell them at some point—but not the current models. There are still a lot of improvements I want to make. That said, I wouldn't mind giving Frostvale Enterprises priority access when the time comes."
A wide smile broke across Nillia's face as she immediately pulled Asher into a hug, squishing him against her chest.
"Aww, I raised such a thoughtful young man."
While caught in the hug, Asher glanced over at his father. Vance met his gaze and just gave a small shrug, shaking his head with a quiet smile. The warmth in his eyes said everything—he was happy to see the two of them getting along. And as for the business side of things, well, there was a reason he didn't interrupt his wife.
Before long, they arrived at the Schnee Manor. As the limousine settled to a stop, the three of them stepped out and made their way up to the grand entrance—two large double doors that opened into the familiar interior of the estate.
It wasn't as packed as Weiss's birthday had been, but the decorations were still just as elegant. The difference was expected. While Weiss's birthdays were often used by Jacques as a means of establishing new connections, Whitley's were usually more focused on reinforcing existing relationships.
That shift in purpose explained the smaller turnout.
The upside? Asher's parents weren't immediately swept away into business talk the moment they arrived.
Only a few moments passed before a waiter carrying a tray of drinks approached and greeted them with a professional smile.
"Welcome. Would any of you care for a drink?"
"Yes, thank you," Nillia replied, taking a glass from the tray. Vance followed suit, helping himself to one as well.
Naturally, the waiter moved on without offering one to Asher, who was still underage.
Not long after, a familiar voice called out from behind them.
"Asher—and Mr. and Mrs. Frostvale. I'm glad you could all make it."
They turned to find Whitley approaching with a polite smile. He differed from Weiss in how he handled events like this. Rather than sticking close to their father for the sake of appearances, Whitley preferred to mingle. Especially on his birthday, he made a point to greet guests personally.
"Oh, Whitley, it's good to see you again—and happy birthday," Nillia said warmly.
Following his wife's lead, Vance added, "That's right. Asher told us you're turning thirteen. Are you enjoying your party so far?"
"Thank you. And yes, for the most part," Whitley said, then added with a sheepish smile, "Though I have to admit... after trying all those treats you prepared during our sleepover, the ones here feel a bit underwhelming."
"Oh, is that so? What a shame," Nillia replied with a note of surprise—though it was clear she took it as a compliment.
"Well, just know you're always welcome to visit us," she continued with a playful wink.
"I'll make sure our kitchen is stocked with your favorites. Any snack you liked before? We'll have it ready for you, just in case." Whitley flushed slightly at her teasing tone, clearly not used to that kind of playful attention.
Nillia, of course, found his reaction absolutely adorable.
Vance and Nillia chatted with the birthday boy a little longer before they were approached by some old business partners. They were soon swept into conversation, leaving just Whitley and Asher on their own.
"Oh—sorry for not saying it earlier. My mom seemed like she was having fun," Asher said as the two of them started walking away from the crowd of upper-class guests.
"But happy birthday."
"Thanks," Whitley replied with a smile.
"I'm glad you came. By the way, if you're looking for Weiss, she and Father are in his office, talking with some of his partners. They'll probably be back in a little while."
Asher nodded, unfazed.
"That's fine. It's your birthday, not theirs. Speaking of which, have you gotten any interesting presents yet?"
Whitley paused at the question, thinking it over before shaking his head.
"Not really, no. There've been plenty of gifts, but most of them are just... favors for Father, not for me. And the ones that are actually meant for me? They're just the kind of things people think kids my age are supposed to want. But honestly, I don't care much about them."
There was also the unspoken truth: with the kind of money the Schnees had, anything he wanted, he could just buy himself. That kind of freedom dulled the excitement most kids felt about birthdays.
"I see... You Schnees really don't have very normal birthdays, do you?"
Whitley didn't take the comment as a jab—he simply nodded in agreement.
"I suppose not. In truth, Father and Mother stopped openly celebrating their own birthdays a long time ago. These days, Father usually just books some private venue for himself. The only birthdays he publicly promotes are mine and Weiss's, under the excuse of giving us a 'normal childhood experience'..."
He trailed off, as if deciding whether to continue. After a brief pause, he did.
"It wasn't always like this. Back when Winter still lived with us—before things between Father and Mother... well, before it all fell apart—our birthdays were different. We did normal stuff: had cake, exchanged gifts with each other, even just spent time together as a family. But all that ended after Weiss's tenth birthday."
Asher stayed quiet, listening. He already knew about that day. Weiss had told him herself—that was when Jacques confessed he never really loved her mother, and their marriage, already strained, finally broke completely. If Winter leaving had been the prelude, then that day marked the true collapse of the Schnee family.
The memory seemed to weigh on Whitley as well. His steps slowed, his eyes drifting toward the floor, his expression dimming.
Asher glanced at him, then let out a quiet breath.
"Well, I guess that means I'm about to break a bit of tradition."
He came to a stop, prompting Whitley to look up, confused.
"Huh? What do you mean?" He asked, noticing the sudden smile on Asher's face—and the way one of his hands had disappeared behind his back.
"Well, it is your birthday," Asher said, revealing his hand.
"It's only right I give you a personal present." In his palm was what looked like a glasses case—soft to the touch, covered in a sleek synthetic white fur. On the front, Whitley's initials were etched into a polished blue stone unlike any material he'd ever seen.
Whitley blinked, taken aback.
"Where… where did you even have these?"
Asher's smile widened slightly, his eyes narrowing with amusement.
"That's a secret."
Whitley took the case from him and carefully opened it. Inside was what, at first glance, looked like a simple pair of reading glasses.
But Asher quickly added an explanation.
"They're AR glasses—for reading. I know you prefer physical books, but these work both day and night, and they don't stand out in public. Basically, they can scan any book you own and let you read it anywhere. You can save your place, bookmark pages, get a synopsis if you're just curious about a book you see out in public, and even take notes. Whether you're reading physically or virtually, it'll remember character names, plot points, terms—pretty much anything you want."
Whitley stared at the glasses for a long moment, completely silent. Then, slowly, he looked up at Asher.
"You made these? Just for me?"
Asher nodded.
"Yeah. I repurposed some of the older programming from the O.M.N.I. Frame's visors, but the AI for all the book functions? That part I built from scratch. Finished it just in time for your birthday."
Whitley looked down at the glasses again, then gently closed the case. When he glanced back up, his expression had changed. It was complicated—like he wanted to say something deeper, something meaningful—but didn't quite know how to put it into words.
So in the end, he simply said,
"Thank you, Asher. Really. I promise I'll use them."
It was probably the most genuine "thank you" he'd said in years.