"Ouf... my head..." Moaned George, rubbing the side of his head as he sat up and looked around. He was in a brightly lit room, its walls painted a simple green with the bed he lay in being a steel grey. There was pretty much nothing adorning its walls, other than a standard two-handed clock.

After a solid minute of his only companion being the ticking clock, George tossed his weathered feet over the side of the bed and made his way to the door. There wasn't even a handle, and seemed to be a heavily thing made of some hardy metal, not budging an inch when he tried to force the door.

"Aw shucks Georgie, where in the blazes have you gotten yourself stuck now?" he muttered, thumping his foot half-heartedly against his prison. As he swung his foot though, the door hissed and flew upwards, removing his target.

Instead, it thumped right into the thigh high leather boots of an absolutely gorgeous woman. A woman who looked swiftly between her leg and his foot before fixing George with a fierce glare.

"With me, if you please." growled the woman, wiping the small dust stain off her boots as she turned and walked out the door.

George stalled for a moment before stumbling after her, calling out, "Now, uh, wait a minute! Where am I-"

He cut off as he turned into an absolutely massive hallway. The ceiling went so high that the lights seemed distant and almost painted on. On both sides of the yawning hallway, green lights flickered against even greener walls. Same as his room.

"Whoa... now, this is beautiful ma'am." mumbled George. When the woman didn't fix him with a glare, he ventured further. "May I know where I am? And what I'm doing here?"

This time the woman did answer, though she didn't turn to face him, "That, sir, is what we are going to go find out."

"It's George, by the way; Georgie to my friends... hehe..."

"Very good Mr. George." the woman said coldly. When it was clear she wasn't going to offer her own name, George sighed and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, the very same he had been wearing when that wretched storm hit. Inside, he was surprised to feel his hand wrap around the same paintbrush he had taken with him when he was taken by... whatever it was.

She led him right across the hallway, from one door to the next. Though Bush looked down the hall as far as he could go, the lights almost seemed to fade when no one was around it. Unsettled, he hustled behind the blonde through the doorway.

Inside, he was greeted with a surprisingly pleasant break room, with nice beige highlights and off-white walls. Very different from the omnipresent green he had seen so far.

Sat at the table, sipping calmly out of a mug was a man with a head of silver hair in a forest green suit. At the table with him sipping tea was a small and very thin Indian man, as well as a man with a splendid greyish beard and weathered face, distinctly Greek. Both wore togas and sipped at tea.

Though it took him a second, George's mouth dropped when he realized who was sat before him.

"By the ghos- are you by any chance Mister Mahatma Ghandi?" Bush choked out.

"Ah, yes I am child. Are you a follower by any chance? I had always hoped that my teachings would make it to the Americas!" smiled the man fondly, taking a tea bag out from his drink.

"Not a follower, but I'm also a fan of non-violent means. And you!" he cried, pointing to the Greek man. "You must be So-Krates!"

The man chortled, before standing up and bowing his head. "Ah, no my friend, it is pronounced Socrates. I'm sure it's been lost somewhere in translation along the lines. Our friend Ghandi here has just finished explaining that it has been several millennia since my own passing."

"And that, uh, doesn't bother you?" queried George, an eyebrow in the air.

"Eh, time is a false perception."

"And I," the man in green interrupted, standing up, "Am known as Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy. Though you can call me Ozpin, I'd advise using my assistants full professional title, Professor Glynda Goodwitch."

"A great pleasure." Nodded Socrates, while Ghandi flashed a bright smile at the woman.

"Likewise, gentlemen." Glynda spoke, letting a small smile slip out at the pleasant old men.

"Well, my names George!" Bush began, "George W. Bush, former president of the US of A!"

The proud title didn't stun like he had hoped, and though Ghandi nodded in understanding Socrates was visibly perplexed before assuming a neutral face. Ozpin hummed non-committally as though he understood, while Glynda just rubbed her eyes.

"The uh... biggest and best country in all of Earth's history?" came the voice of the somewhat shamed man.

"Biggest?" was all Ghandi got out before Ozpin cleared his throat and moved to stand in front of the trio.

"Seeing as the three of you are now awake, I suppose it's time to begin explaining exactly what has happened here. You are on the world of Remnant, a land in which humanity has been pushed to the brink of extinction. I have heard you speak of this 'Earth', and I must inform you that you are no longer on it. It has never even been heard of."

The trio moved uncomfortably, though Socrates didn't seem overtly phased. Eh. Must have had the shock knocked out him, all things considered.

"Further more, you were not brought here by mere accident. Each of you was brought here by a powerful artifact, called the Relic of Knowledge. It brought the four wisest people from beyond Remnants own veil who could best aid us. From what we understand, it all must have brought you to us at the time of when your own wisdom and knowledge was at its peak, during which you would be best equipped to helping us.

"Assuming we do help you, for whatever reason I simply can't imagine," Intoned Bush, brows furrowed at the knowledge this man had a hand in having his home destroyed and tearing him from the rubble, "what in the world are we even helping protect you from?"

Ghandi and Socrates muttered their agreement and leaned forwards.

"That which has driven us to near extinction: the Grimm. Hideous beasts of pure hate who hunt humans for the sole purpose of killing. They do not need to eat, yet they do anyways. They have doggedly pursued us, and with intelligent and malicious forces at work, these beasts will not remain savage and directionless for much longer. Right now, they poke at our walls simply out of curiosity. However, we are almost certain that the final push is coming, and the tactics as well as strategies applied so far have been useless. That's why you were brought here."

The trio were silent for a while until Ghandi spoke up, "And what is it that we shall earn if we aid you?"

"Well, if you aid me, I could use the Relics of both Creation as well as Time in order to open a portal for each of you to return home to your own timelines. There are several other forces I may be able to bring to bear in order to guarantee this, but only after the war is won."

"Well then, if I'm being blunt Mr. Ozpin, it would seem we aren't being given much of a choice." scowled Socrates.

All the man could offer in return was a sad smile. "For what it's worth, I am sorry."

"Fine, I'll do it. If it's the only way for me to get back home to my wife, then it's what I'll do." said Bush, rolling up the sleeves of his button-up plaid shirt.

"And I as well." Said Ghandi, finally standing with the aid of the table. "To leave a world of our fellow man in such turmoil... it would be unseemly."

"What man would I be if not to go on this journey. What thinker would I be if I said no out of petty spite. What's done is done, hindsight cannot blind the future." agreed Socrates.

Ozpin, for his part, beamed. "Splendid! There are several high valued items I would like you to personally over see in the coming semester in my school. As my students train to fight these Grimm, you will observe them and aid them in any way you see fit. You will participate as any other four man team in Beacon would, but not with the purpose of fighting the Grimm through physical means. You will be the weapons that fights them with the gifts unique to man!"

The trio looked at one another before Socrates spoke up, "Um, that is a bit vague. Perhaps we could speak more of what is expected of us?"

Ozpin, at least, had the decorum to look slightly abashed, "Ah, ahem, yes. That we can discuss in the coming days."

A door in the back of the room, innocuous enough, began to open.

"First though, I wish to introduce you to the final member of your team,"

Out of the bathroom stepped an immaculate man with raven black hair, a slick comb-over and a very avant-garde mustache. In perfect military dress.

"Leader of Team HGGS, or Hugs... Adolf Hitler!"

Wiping at the sweat on his brow, the man finally looked up at the assembled group.

"Was passiert?"

A/N: Our heroes have their first meeting.