RADN: United We Stand

'''Author's Note: Do NOT steal or copy any of my shit here! I will find you! ....Thank youuuu! By the way, if you want to use this fanfic or any content in here for ANY purpose whatsoever, ask me first.'''

Description: It has been almost a year since the Fall of Beacon Academy, and Remnant is still recovering from the tragic event. Darkness takes advantage of this bleak time and once again rises, but with darkness, there is light, as the forces of good once again take up arms to combat evil. This time in the perspective of the newly-assembled team of young huntsmen and huntresses; RDAN. (Author's Note: Yeah, I know, pretty corny, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment.)

Genre: Action and Adventure

Rating: T

Author: HellFire707 / Ameliano Vallerga

Animation Opening Song 1: "Modern Strange Cowboy" by GRANRODEO

''Author's Note: I don't know when the actual animation will come out, but I guess either when I have enough time in my life to learn all this shit myself or gather enough money to hire someone to animate it all. For now, I'll just type the story up, and hook up an opening song just 'cause. OoF.''

Chapter 1: Orange
Richard Oráiste was flat-out exhausted and miserable.

The blond young man spent the whole day searching for his missing comrades, but with little success. But oh well, same as always. He sighed, shaking his head to himself in despair as he sat silently at the table of the café. He was now enjoying a small cup of coffee despite the bandages on the corners of his lips, but he couldn't help but overhear a conversation across from him to his right.

"It's a shame what happened at Beacon, right?"

Richard felt his hand tighten into a fist, and he took a breath. Flashbacks to the Fall of Beacon rushed his consciousness, flashing images of Grimm swarming the Main Avenue, fire and rubble, and finally, a brilliant white flash from atop where Headmaster Ozpin's Tower used to be, whatever that was.

It's been half a year and you're still going off on that? he thought, his irritation growing. Then he calmed down. What happened at Beacon was a major tragedy, countless lives lost and memories destroyed. He couldn't blame the man, but why did he have to bring it up now? Richard closed his eyes, trying to gain control of his PTSD. This was not the first episode.

"Eh, they had it all coming. Poor kids, didn't even know they were marching straight to a suicide... trying to fight the Grimm is useless anyway, they just keep coming."

Richard anxiously took a sip from his cup of coffee, and stood up. "Hey."

The man turned to look up at him. "Yeah?"

Richard glared down at him. "What did you say about all those people at Beacon again?"

The man shrugged. "I mean, it's pointless. You have all this reckless youth going to Beacon just to die. If they really wanted to make a difference, they should go to Atlas."

Richard sat down by him, looking up at him. "Isn't Atlas responsible for what happened at Beacon though?" he asked. "It's funny, really."

The man raised an eyebrow. "What's your point?"

"Atlas isn't much of a safe place, pal," Richard answered. "Nowhere is safe now, but if you want to run and hide anyway, go ahead, be my guest. But don't discredit those who fight for you."

The man stood up. "Kid," he began. "Huntsmen are a hopeless cause. The Grimm can't be stopped, and everyone at the Academies are wasting their time. If they really wanted to live, they should live in a safe, fortified place like Atlas instead of wasting their lives until eventually that place burns down too."

Richard felt his anger growing as he grit his teeth.

"Now, I suggest you go sit back down or head back home. It's a bit late for a young one like you to be wandering around," the man started to reach over, until a hand lashed out and grabbed him by the wrist, pinning him to the table. Wincing, he looked up to see Richard leaned over the table, twisting the man's arm down as he took out an arrow with his free hand and stabbed it into the table, inches away from the man's fingers. Nearly everyone in the café stopped what they were doing and began to look their way.

"And I suggest for you to hold your tongue," Richard said. "Especially since those 'kids' out there are fighting for the freedom of innocent people and even ignorant pigs like you. Sure, the Grimm may seem like unstoppable forces of nature, but we as people are resourceful, and we killed a mighty lot of Grimm back in our day. In fact, we're getting pretty close to recovery from what happened at Beacon, and without us, I don't think you'd be where you are now, rambling about how humanity is doomed."

"...'We'?" the man echoed, to which Richard just smiled and pulled back his sleeve, showing the emblem of crosshairs on his arm.

"Yep. We. As in I have backup," he eventually released his iron grip on the man, walked back to his own table and put on his fedora, and started to walk out of the café, but not before glancing back to the man, who was dazed on the ground, his chair tipped over. "By the way, I think you should lay off on the alcohol. I can smell it on you."

As Richard walked out, the man uneasily got back up, and saw the arrow still in the table. That, combined with the emblem he saw on the blond's arm came a realization.

"Was that lad a huntsman!?" the man turned to the others, his eyes widened.

~

Richard sat on the roof of the café, looking down at the streets. He started to think about the huntsman team he once led while in Beacon Academy. Since the Fall however, like many other huntsmen, the team has split up.

'' 'Team... where are you all?'''

Chapter 2: Red
An Atlesian convoy was just pulling into the garage of a moonlit fortified-looking building, built almost like a prison. Troops guided the convoy, and checked with its contents and passengers before allowing it to pass. As the doors open, soldiers walked out, guns in hands, before a final trooper stepped out, though this one had a different colored suit, light blue with badges on the chest-plate, signifying a higher rank than the other infantry. As he walked by, the other soldiers lined up on either side of him and looked forward. A man in a different military uniform moved by his side, giving a warden-like appearance.

"Everyone kept in line?" the commander asked, taking off his helmet and revealing his looks, short, dirty-blond hair with neatly trimmed facial hair. His blue eyes stared straight ahead.

"Yes sir," the warden replied. "Except for one, which I'm sure you know who."

The commander sighed. "Our huntsman, huh?" he placed a cigarette between his teeth and held his lighter up to it. "Report claims he went rogue."

"Yes," the warden nodded. "He attacked several of our squadrons a few days ago, finally stopped by our higher-ups, called in by Ironwood."

The commander squinted. "Ironwood? Hmph," he took a puff from his cigarette. "Sounds tough. Could this be the one involved with framing us for what happened at Beacon?"

"No, this one may be a student from Beacon instead. A survivor."

The commander stopped, straightening his armor at what he heard. "Let me look at him."

~

A young man of possibly 17 years of age, with tanned skin was laying on his bed humming quietly as the door opened, shining light into his cell. The light of the outer hall revealed the young man's scars, which appeared to be from blades, decorating his upper torso, from his abs to his upper back. He squinted, and raised his hand to shield his hazel eyes from the sudden light. He sat up on the bed, looking to see the Atlesian commander standing by the cell doorway. The young man yawned, stretching his thin arms up. "...Ya could've knocked first," he said, adjusting his glasses casually.

"Darian Rouge, I presume?" the commander addressed the young man.

Darian raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his wild, unkempt dark brown hair. "About time someone actually called me by my name," he said, smiling a bit.

The commander turned to the guard. "Close the door behind me." Though hesitant, the guard nodded and opened the cell, allowing the commander in, and then closing the door behind him, locking the cell. He reached into his pocket and got out a lightstick. "There... now I can see you."

Darian tilted his head a bit. "Lockin' yourself into a cell with a dude who attacked your guys? Ya must not know who the hell I am."

"As a matter of fact I do, Ripper of Vale," the commander stated as-a-matter-of-factly, silencing Darian. "I've seen your records before I went in here. You were a huntsman that attended Beacon Academy, on the same team as my nephew. Not only that, but you have also made it to Beacon through fake transcripts, because you never actually been to a combat school beforehand, if I'm correct. But you make up for it by your experience knife-fighting when you were younger, hence your scars everywhere."

Darian kicked himself up off of the bed and front-flipped in front of Tangerine. "Okay pal, who are ya?" he folded his arms. "And wha'cha want with me?"

"I'm Commander Tangerine Oráiste," the commander answered. "And I wanted to get to know you. I've heard a lot about you from my nephew."

"Ya keep mentioning a nephew, and your last name seems familiar-- wait, Oráiste!?" Darian jumped up excitedly, his face close to Tangerine's. "You're the uncle of Richard Oráiste?"

"Yes, I am." Tangerine smiled. "Tell me, why'd you attack Atlas men?"

Darian backed up a little bit, then sat back down on the bed. "Atlas bots were involved in the Fall o' Beacon," he replied. "So I assumed ya guys had somethin' t' do with it. It took a few months, but I finally found ya guys."

Tangerine stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I see," he looked down at Darian. "Despite what you may be thinking, Atlas actually tried to help stop what happened at Beacon--" he was interrupted by Darian's laughing.

"Well ya guys certainly did a good job at stoppin' it, now did ya?" he leaned forward again, grinning sarcastically.

Tangerine closed his eyes. "Someone hacked into our systems," he explained. "We have yet to find the perpetrators."

Darian looked at him with one eye. "Aaaand I can trust ya 'cause...?"

"Isn't the fact that I'm your comrade's uncle enough?" Tangerine smiled a bit. Then he got an idea. "I heard quite a bit about you." he turned, and suddenly threw a knife at Darian. Despite his condition, the young man's hand jabbed up and caught the blade by the handle almost easily, making Tangerine smile more. "Just as I expected from the Last Son of Itallingrad." He expected the boy to attack him back, but Darian didn't move, and he instead glanced at the blade.

"...Why give the prisoner a weapon?" he asked.

"I was testing you," Tangerine replied. "And I'm glad to say you're the real Darian Rouge, no doubt."

With unnatural speed, Darian closed the distance between them and pressed the knife to Tangerine's throat. "I could end ya right now," he said, smiling. "...if I was anyone else." he lowered the blade. "Gotcha."

"I could say the same," Tangerine replied, the sound of a gun barrel being cocked back heard in the cell. Darian didn't need to look down to know the gun was pointed up at his chin, then it lowered. He knew it was ready to fire in case he tried anything. Darian chuckled.

"Oh, I like you," Darian said, smiling up at the commander, the height difference between them apparent, as Darian was surprisingly short, though that assisted him in his quick movement a few moments ago.

"Well now," Tangerine sighed, placing his gun back in the holster. "You've proven yourself the real deal. Now let me ask, how would you like a choice of freedom?"

Darian's eyes widened. "Wait, for real?" he asked, brushing a cluster of hair from his eyesight.

Tangerine nodded. "How about it?"

A mischievous grin appeared on the teenager's face, his eyes covered by shadow.

Chapter 3: Green
"I was born, a shotgun in my hands," the lyrics of Fire Finger Death Punch's song Bad Company sang through Amber's headphones. "Behind the gun, I'll make my final stand."

Amber Grün was a young woman of about average-female height, minus her canine ears that were on the top of her black-haired head, which were her faunus traits. Her black hair was rather short, the longer strands reaching her chin, with lime-green streaks. Her gold-colored eyes seemed to have almost glaring yet also bored shape to them, and her light skin was illuminated from the light from the scroll in her hands.

Though the CCT network was in the process of being repaired, it was still incomplete, so Amber stuck to the MP3 music files she had previously downloaded. A few rock and metal bands popped up, such as the before-mentioned Fire Finger Death Punch, Three Days Green, and Volcan-beat, though she was beginning to become bored of listening to the same songs over and over, since the Fall of Beacon. She removed her headphones and looked up into the tree she was sitting by, where she saw four birds by the branch. In many ways, these birds appeared to be what her team was back when they were united.

The birds flew away when she stood up, and she glanced over across the street, opposite of the park where she was resting. She saw a crew of construction workers carrying large girders into a building, possibly in the process of being repaired. She didn't think much of it, and turned to walk away, until her ears picked up a crack. And another one. She slowly turned her head back to the construction site and saw a large jagged crack on the building. She knew it was about to fall apart and she calmly turned her whole attention to it.

The construction men seemed oblivious to the damage. Some were in bulldozers and other vehicles, another handful were helping rebuild the structure, and others were standing around and chatting pleasantly, probably on their break. Finally, a large stone piece of the building fell off, homing in on the worksmen below. They only had a brief second to look up as the several-ton hunk of structure zoomed towards them, and they barely had time to fall over in surprise, or make a sound.

When nothing happened, they opened their eyes and looked up, what they saw completely striking them with awe and shock. Amber was standing above them, holding the giant lump of the building at bay, her one arm raising as she pushed the stone upwards. She glanced down at the workers and jerked her head, signalling them to move. They nodded and stood up, some hunching over under the stone to quickly move out. Amber then raised her other arm and lowered the piece of the building down to the ground, careful not to damage the concrete.

"Thank you," one of the construction workers said, as others of their employees ran over to see what was happening.

Amber nodded in response and began to walk away, not not before giving the men a warning. "Please watch out next time," she said. "One day if that happens again, someone like me might not be there."

~

Amber figured that was the only time in a few months for her to actually save someone. Other days were boring, dull, and normal. Many times, she considered going outside the safety of the cities to find and battle Grimm, or maybe she was in the wrong places. She knew that she was in the wrong places if she was looking for her missing comrades, though she knew she'd come in contact with them again, so she had never looked. She had faith in them, they were strong.

But another part of her mind wondered if she was lying to herself, maybe she had to go look for them. A small sadness began to once again rise within her, as she mentally fought with herself. ''They need you, Amber. Just think where you would be if you were them.''

She was cut from her thoughts as a mechanical whirring, like a jet was heard above her. She looked up and saw what appeared to be a heavily-armored robot fly down to her, crashing to the ground in front of her. The gust of the impact, blew her hair and flapped her clothing, but she otherwise didn't budge. The steel colossus stood up and stared at her with its blue eyes, scanning her.

"Huntsman confirmed," it said in a masculine monotone voice. "Potential threat."

Amber felt a slight spark go off in her as she heard that. "I see," she said. "Perhaps today won't be as boring after all." She reached behind her and pulled out a green and black electric guitar. She pressed a button on its neck, and stared at the robot as it shifted and transformed into a giant warhammer, resembling a standard claw hammer in appearance, but it was much bigger, just the handle longer than the average height of a grown man, and the head about four feet long, slamming into the ground just from the weight, the stone bursting into rubble.

The rogue mech extended its arm towards her, multiple weaponry clicking from its wrist. "Commencing cleansing protocol."

A slight electric field rose around Amber as her eyes became a bright green, electricity and voltage swirling around her. Suddenly she burst forward, her hammer swinging at the robot just as it fired its projectiles at her.

Chapter 4: Purple
"Again!"

The sound of clashing metal rang through the courtyard as Violet Nicole Magenta skidded back a few paces with her sword Dark Matter in both hands. Her long purple hair blew to the side as the shock of the impact subsided.

"Again!" the voice called, and Violet ran forward, though noticeably fatigued. She flipped over her attacker's blade and spun around to retaliate. Her opponent ducked and parried her sword, blades colliding once again. As she landed on her feet, she looked up at her sparring partner, which was her brother, Blitz.

Blitz Van Magenta was a male of average height, with peach skin color, and rose-colored eyes, like his sister Violet. He had mohawk-styled purple hair, with yellow streaks and tips. He wore a gold and silver vest over a very lean body shape, not too muscular but not exactly skinny either. His face had thin eyebrows, and calm eyes, but also a prideful smirk below that.

Violet was also average height for a young woman, but had a muscular build for one. Her skin shade was about the same brother's. Her outfit was much like a gladiator's, complete with a purple chestplate, an eagle engraved on the upper torso piece. Chainmail sleeves led up to black gauntlets, and a cingulum belt was fixed around her waist. Her lavender leggings had a flame engraving on them.

"What's the matter, little sister?" Blitz taunted, flicking around the machetes in his hands. "You're not usually this slow when we spar."

Violet gripped the hilt of her sword tighter. He's right, she thought. She knew what was holding her back was her recurring dreams about her divided team, which bothered her a lot. But she had to focus. The whole point of this sparring session was to reawaken her semblance, which has only been unlocked once. She did not even know how she did it, but that was what she was trying to figure out.

"Again!" At the sound of her grandmother's voice, who was monitoring the clash between the two siblings, Violet sprung forward, but so did Blitz, and the two once again faced off. Their weapons smashed against each other once, twice, thrice, four times, and so on. Eventually, Violet got a lucky hit in, striking Blitz with her sword, sending him back a bit. He patted off where he was struck.

"Now that's more like it," Blitz growled, a small smile on his face.

Violet, despite successfully landing a blow on her brother, grew frustrated. Her goal was to activate her semblance, and so far, she hasn't done it.

Blitz noticed her troubles. "I guess I'll have to use my semblance to awaken yours," he said, then turning to Plum Magenta, their grandmother and teacher. "Is that okay?"

Plum nodded in response. "Good idea, Blitz," she replied. "Perhaps if we increase the direness of the situation, that's when she can unlock it." She figured emotional triggers or otherwise dangerous situations could unlock semblances, and help gain experience in that field.

Violet braced herself, and took a step backward. "I'm ready," she said to them.

Blitz smiled as he lowered to the ground, stretching one leg back as he kneeled with the other one, his arm on the ground, getting into a sprinter's pose. Then suddenly, he vanished.

Violet stood totally still, aware of the gusts that blew past her. Or perhaps they weren't gusts, maybe it was just someone moving by. Someone moving too fast to see. Blitz. She struck outward with her sword, but she missed. At that very moment, several blows came into contact with her, so fast that she couldn't dodge, or even block them. She winced and planted her sword into the ground to keep her up. As she focused, now she started to see.

Blitz was toying with her, his semblance making him appear to glow yellow as he ran by with uncharted speed.

Again, she swung outward with Dark Matter, but missed once more. But she predicted the next move, and she barely twirled out of the way of her brother. Violet was heavily exhausted, sweat running down her forehead, but she wouldn't give up. Again, she felt a blow land on her from her brother's increased speed of attacks. This time though it almost forced her to the ground, a wave-like blue energy appearing on her, then vanishing.

Her aura is depleted, Plum thought. That's not good. She knew aura was the manifestation of one's soul, and acts as a sort of "forcefield" against lethal or otherwise particularly damaging attacks, but once that aura is depleted, the protection against fatal blows is no longer guaranteed.

Blitz was about to attack again, until Plum halted his assault. "This match is over," she called, making Blitz stop and deactivate his semblance. Violet looked up, panting heavily. Though she was relieved that she was alright, she was disappointed in herself for not unlocking her semblance.

~

There was a knock on Violet's bedroom door. "It's me," Plum's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Come in," Violet replied, staring at herself in the mirror.

As the door opened, Violet's eyes lowered with guilt. "I'm sorry grandmother," she said. "I tried my best."

Plum Magenta may have been an elderly woman, but still looked fairly youthful for someone in her late fifties. Her shoulder-length hair was purple in color ending in silver and grey, and she possessed an identical facial appearance to her granddaughter, but she had age lines under her pink eyes, and a slight widow's peak.

Plum walked in and sat on Violet's bed, patting next to her. Violet walked over and sat next to her, looking down.

"Remember when you were so young and hardly able to pick up a knife?" Plum asked, glancing at her granddaughter.

"Yeah, what about it...?" Violet answered.

Plum gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Look at you now," she said, smiling. "I'm confident you'll be able to master your semblance soon, especially with Magenta blood running through your veins."

Violet looked up at her grandmother with a small hope in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Someone I knew in Atlas would always say, 'a semblance is like a muscle, the more you train with it, the stronger it will become'. Just keep practicing, my dear Violet. You've found your semblance once at Beacon, and I know you can do it again." Plum stood up and began to walk out the door. "Oh, and one last thing. What's our family motto?"

Of course Violet knew, she heard it possibly hundreds of times. "Ambition is the path to strength," she said.

"That's right."

"Thank you, grandmother," Violet gave a small smile as Plum left the room. However, she still felt sad. Not just because of her insecurities to live up to her family's name, but also her former teammates. Richard, Darian, Amber, she missed them all. Then, out of the blue, she realized something.

"Grandmother!" Violet ran out of her room, making Plum turn around from the great hallway.

"Yes?" she asked.

Violet gulped in nervousness. "When do we go to Atlas?"

Chapter 5: Shadows
Richard checked the mailbox of his apartment, finding a letter in it. He immediately recognized the stamp on the front. It was from Atlas, no question about it. He was about to throw it away, until he also saw the name of his uncle on the top left, under Tangerine Oráiste.

He knew his uncle worked under Atlas, but he didn't understand why. For all he knew, Atlas robots had attacked innocent civilians during the Fall of Beacon, and Tangerine was a man who stuck close to justice. So it didn't make sense, unless there was an explanation. Richard closed his eyes, trying to regain focus of the situation as flashbacks to Beacon returned, though it was not as nerve-wracking as last time, because he half-expected the link to the Academy's disaster was coming, and what happened at the café was more sudden.

As Richard felt himself and his mind calm, he decided to head inside his apartment to take a look at the letter.

~

A black, fancy car pulled into the parking lot of the café, a few men stepping out. One of them had grey, wavy hair, his face possessing an almost-gentlemanly yet also predatory feature, with violet eyes, about average height, with a white and grey suit, with what appeared to be tubes attached, circulating water into the gills on his neck, signifying his status as an aquatic faunus. The other man was almost a foot taller than the first one, wearing red sunglasses and having slicked-back black hair, a few strands on his forehead. He also had lightly-trimmed facial hair. He appeared leanly-built, even when covered by his brown leather jacket.

"This the place?" he asked.

"I'm positive," the faunus replied, making the taller man smile.

"Good," he started walking towards the door.

As the duo walked into the café, they surveyed the tables, eventually spotting who they were after.

"Shade, the honors?" The faunus glanced at his partner.

"All mine," Shade adjusted his aviators and walked up to the certain table, where a particular man sat. "Hiya," he greeted, flashing a pearly-white smile. "So me and my friend over there wanted to talk to you. Got a second?"

The man glanced up at him, taking note of his imposing height. "Who are you?"

Shade lowered his sunglasses a bit, showing deep, reflectionless eyes as red as wine. "Shade," he answered. "Shade Pierce. And my friend over there is Jet Silver."

The man took a few seconds to observe Shade and Jet, before coughing slightly. "Yeah, alright," he replied. "Why not?"

Shade leaned down, resting his forearm on the table. "Great," he smiles. "Now, based on reports, I heard you had an encounter with a huntsman in this café, right?"

The man froze in place, and hesitated. "...Yeah, I did," he answered. "Why?"

"Well, we just deal with this sort of thing, that's all," Shade spoke with confidence. "Rogue huntsmen attacking civilians? That's no good, especially those who attack fine gentlemen like yourself."

The man was flattered, but he still felt somewhat... anxious. Like something wasn't right.

"Right, well..." the man stood up. "He left this behind." he reached beside his seat and pulled out an arrow, which Shade took and observed.

"Hm, interesting," he said, studying the looks and design of the arrow. "Description?"

"I dunno... he had blond hair, green eyes, and square bandages on both sides of his face, for whatever reason."

"Ah, good. Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Shade handed the arrow to Jet and patted the man on the shoulder, revealing his burgundy-colored mechanical hand.

The man glanced to his right, when his eyes caught sight of some wanted posters on the wall. His eyes widened as he realized the man who was on one of the posters was ''right in front of him. Inches away''. The man slowly lowered his hand to his side, where he kept a knife, ever since the last time he came to this café. Shade followed his eyes and figured out what he was looking at, and glanced at the man below him, his face a blank slate of emotion. The man nervously glanced back up at Shade, sweat apparent on his forehead, until he quickly swung his knife at Shade. If he caught the criminal by surprise, maybe, just maybe he could--

Shade caught the man by the wrist almost easily, squeezing it slightly. The pain made the man wince and release his grip on the knife, the blade clattering on the wood floor. With his free hand, Shade swung outward directly at the man's face. His head twisted all the way around with a sickening 'pop' as his body flew across the café, crashing into the wall and collapsing in an awkward heap.

Customers stood up immediately in a panic and rushed to the door, only to meet Jet, who had blocked the path of the door. "Going somewhere?" he smiled, showing his pointed, shark-like teeth.

There was only screaming in that café, each of the voices going out one by one, until there was only silence.

~

Richard sat down on the bed of his apartment room and opened the letter, beginning to read it.

"To my nephew Richard,

''I know I haven't been there much since the Fall of Beacon, and especially since you and your team separated, and I apologize. I've been really occupied in Atlas, and no, despite what you may be thinking, we were not in control of our Atlesian Knights when they attacked civilians subsequently after the Vytal Festival. We believe they were infected with a virus, causing them to act out. This has caused the belief that Atlas has antagonized Beacon as well, when that is not the truth.''

''I do plan on meeting with you again very soon. Also, I have someone who you might want to see as well. He's a rather short young man, but his energy more than makes up for it.''

Until we meet again,

                                                                                                                 your Uncle Tangerine."

Richard took a few moments staring at the letter. He didn't know how to feel about it, especially Tangerine's seemingly blank tone, but he knew Tangerine was a calm and matter-of-fact person, and was glad he received word from him anyway. As for the last bit of the letter, he knew immediately who his uncle was talking about. It was his old teammate and best friend, Darian Rouge. He knew Darian had a troublemaker streak, and he was wondering how his uncle was dealing with him.

Richard stood up and walked to his desk, intending to write back, then he paused and turned back around. He figured maybe it was better to pay the two a visit, especially since one of them was his teammate.

Chapter 6: Tensions
Amber was resting in her home, reading a dark novel within the comfort of her bed. Her jacket hung from her door, with Mjolnir neatly leaned against the wall in its guitar form. On her bedside table was a metal piece, which she tore from the robot she fought a few days prior. After defeating it, she tore it inside-out in an attempt to find who sent it, her initial thought being Atlas, but she didn't see it's signature mark. Instead she found the number "seven" on the mech, which she found interesting, though she had no idea what it meant.

"Amber!" she heard her mother call from downstairs. "I think you should see this!"

Amber closed her book and got off of her bed, heading downstairs to meet her mother, Camila Grün, who was in the kitchen staring at the television on the counter, with a hand over her mouth. Amber found out why when she glanced at the screen, which was playing the news.

"Surveillance cameras capture a horrific massacre of customers at Beige Café," the newswoman spoke, with blurred images of mangled bodies at the scene behind her, the café in ruins. "Authorities believe two men are responsible for the attack, Shade Pierce and Jet Silver, who are still at large."

Camila glanced at her daughter with worry. "If you're going out, please be careful," she said, her voice containing a thick Roma accent.

Amber could only nod as she turned away from the television. She headed upstairs to get on her boots and equip Mjolnir. She knew what she had to do.

~

.