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; RADN. (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 (Has dark elements at times, however.)
Author: HellFire707 / Ameliano Vallerga
Animation Opening Song 1: "Bad Apple!! (English Cover)" by Touhou/JubyPhonic.
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.
Volume 1: Reunion Arc[]
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 above-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 threw her to the ground from the kinetic force, 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 was a young man of average height, with a pale skin tone and short, straight grey hair styled in an undercut, as well as narrow, intimidating dull purple eyes with dark circles under them and a deceptively youthful face that hides predatory features. Wearing a black and grey suit, with what appeared to be tubes attached circulating water into the gills on his neck, he appeared to be an aquatic faunus. The other man was almost a full 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?"
The tall man 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 had glanced to his right, when his eyes caught sight of some wanted posters on the wall. His eyes widened as he realized Shade was on one of the posters, and the real deal 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, his eyes staring into the man's soul. 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: Close at Hand[]
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.
~~~~
Richard made sure the bandages on his cheeks were latched on as he exited the ship. He figured his uncle and his teammate were actually not directly in Atlas, but rather on a small island between Vale and Atlas, which he took a cruise to. He barely had enough lien to afford a ticket, and he was grateful for every cent left.
He quickly left the docks and got a map of the island, which he learned the name of, "Yggdrasil", which belonged to Atlesian territory. He got a few clues to where a potential military base was set up, considering there were certain areas on the map closed to tourists, so he decided to start looking in those places for his uncle, knowing he was a commander.
A few hours have passed, and it was close to dusk-time. Richard's skill with his compact-bow and arrows have so far allowed him to evade capture or even being seen. He has been through a total of four compounds on the island of Yggdrasil, and he was getting frustrated, though with each facility he gone through, he gained more and more information, but some of it had nothing to do with the island itself. There was only two more Atlesian military bases, and one of them had to hold Tangerine.
He happened to come across a barbed-wired gate with a storage-like building soon enough. As he stood on one of the branches of a tree, he activated his semblance. As his semblance, "Hunter's Sight", as he called it, allowed him to see the thermal signatures of any person in the yard. The temperature also made it easier for him to discern robot soldiers from actual people in Atlas military-wear, and-- there! He finally spotted his uncle Tangerine, who was watching the others work, as well as guiding them with his instructions.
~~~~
Tangerine kept an eye on his soldiers loading up the convoys with dust and weaponry. Since he had nothing else better to do with the young huntsman in his custody, he set him off to survey the area. The boy seemed restless, and could not stay in one spot unless he was contained inside a cell, but seeing the young man's nature and motives, Tangerine saw no reason to lock him up again.
"Hey... Tangerine!"
The voice caught him off-guard, as well as the other soldiers. He knew it didn't belong to any of them, and certainly not the huntsman that he sent out. He turned around, and to his astonishment, he saw his nephew up in a tree, looking back at him. "...Richard?" he raised an eyebrow, though hesitant, because he was unsure of whether or not this was truly his relative.
Richard had jumped down from the tree, walking towards the gates of the base. Soldiers and A.I. had aimed their weapons at him, but Tangerine raised his hand, halting them. "How did you get here?" he asked. "And so quickly, might I add? It was perhaps only two days ago I sent my letter to you."
Richard shrugged. "It wasn't hard," he answered. "I thought you knew how smart I am."
Tangerine smiled. "I suppose you're right." He decided to step closer to Richard, the two of them approaching until they were right in front of each other. Tangerine placed a hand on Richard's shoulder. "It's been a while... nephew."
"Oh? And what's this?" A different, inquisitive voice called as a white blur jumped from the surrounding forest. The figure stood up, revealed to be Darian, who now looked quite different from when he was in the cell. He looked cleaner, though his hair was still wild and stood up, and he was dressed in a grey and white specialized Atlas uniform, possibly a spy suit.
Richard turned to glance at him, and his eyes widened in surprise. Darian also noticed and stared back at him, the silence creeping in. Richard squinted down at his teammate perhaps in suspicion, and Darian's fists tightened.
"Darian!" Richard suddenly opened his arms in joy, noticeably smiling.
"Cap'n!" Darian jumped energetically, his hands raised to his face as he grinned.
The two teammates ran towards one another, eventually high-fiving each other in reunion, again, and again, until it seemed they were playing a high-speed game of patty-cake, laughing. Richard grinned and, in a bizarre twist of events, threw his knee upward into Darian's stomach, causing him to flip over Richard and land on his hands and feet, like a cat.
"Hey! Me next!" Richard spun around to face his comrade, whose smile widened.
Darian quickly appeared behind Richard, wrapped his arms around his torso, and threw himself back, crashing Richard's head and shoulders into the ground in a suplex.
Tangerine and the others watched in shock and surprise as the two continued to throw each other around, evidently their definition of horseplay.
Richard and Darian jumped on top of one of the convoys and high-fived each other again, quickly going down and switching to an arm-wrestling position.
"Ready?" Richard asked, smiling.
"Go!" Darian hollered as he immediately attempted to push his teammates arm down, but Richard pushed back. The two's competition caused the armored vehicle's roof to crash inward, and a few wheels popping out, making the convoy slam down into the ground.
"Out of the 719 times we arm-wrestled," Darian leaned in and raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I won about 359 times."
"That time under my uncle's care must have made you lose your mind," Richard retorted playfully. "Because I won 359 times."
Before the two could finish the match however, the convoy flipped over, its top skidding on the ground. Darian and Richard however got off and patted themselves off. "I'm glad ya haven't gone soft on me!" Darian chuckled, hooking an arm around Richard's shoulders.
"And you still got it," Richard glanced at Darian, also hooking an arm around his shoulders. However, the duo's reunion was cut short by Tangerine clearing his throat.
"So... are you both done?" he asked, moving a bit to show the damaged and ruined Atlesian battle-pickup.
"Oh, um..." Darian scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as Richard gulped. "Oh boy."
Chapter 7: Decadence[]
Darian couldn't see anything, but could only hear two voices. One that sounded like a child, and the other voice of that of a man in his prime sounded familiar, but he didn't know exactly who they were.
"No, I can't!"
"Run, Darian! We'll buy you time!"
"I can't do this alone!"
"You have to, son. I'm so sorry, but they're here. Just know that we love you, now go! We'll be right behind you!"
Darian woke up with a jolt, sitting upright in his bed, breathing heavily.
...Dad? He reconsidered the nightmare, and the voices he heard, realizing it was a flashback. After regaining his composure, he glanced to his side to see Richard sleeping in his own bed, next to his.
Tangerine had given the two a place to rest in Atlas, which was his own home. Luckily, there was an extra room, with two beds. The house itself was decent, though it was nothing compared to the homes of the higher-ups, such as the Schnee family, whose palace was grand and rich, built like a fortified ice-made castle.
He stood up and grabbed his glasses, which rested on the bedside table, and placed them on his face over his eyes. He opened the door, slowly, quietly, so he wouldn't wake anyone up, and walked through. Dressed in black shorts and a red tank-top, he went out the back door and walked to the railing, leaning forward and resting his forearms on it as he looked up at the night sky, thinking.
~~~~
Shade was sitting at a desk of an expensive, beautifully crafted room, the walls made with darkened wood and the floor made of polished obsidian. Pillars of onyx stretched from the floor to the ceiling, leading up to the work-desk. Paintings hung on the walls, most of them containing ominous or otherwise disturbing images. Jet leaned by a bookshelf.
"Y'know," Shade smirked. "I wish that man gave a bit more detail into who he was describing. It was a shame all those people had to die."
Jet glanced at him in visible disgust. "Don't give me that," he said. "You would've killed them all anyway."
Shade laughed a bit. "True, but you helped."
Jet shook his head. "I was hungry, that was all. And there were too many witnesses." Jet, being a shark faunus, was no picky eater, and was known to kill in order to eat. If he could, he would combine the two activities, in fact.
"The law thinks we did it anyway... hmm, by any chance, do you know which huntsman that guy was talking about? There's a lot of blonde ones around here. Hell, I'd make a blonde joke, but that's below me."
Jet thought for a moment. "Chances are, he was talking about Richard Oráiste."
Shade puffed a bit from his cigar, raising an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Richard Oráiste, the nephew of my old comrade, Tangerine. I mean, who else wears square bandages on either sides of their face symmetrically? It's to hide his faunus features, you see."
"What kinda faunus is this kid? And what should we expect?"
"He's a komodo dragon, and he's the nephew of an Atlesian commander. Not as high as Ironwood, but close."
Shade took the cigar out from his mouth and flicked it aside. "Sounds like fun. Don't worry, we got the whole Itallingrad Underground to throw at him." He stood up off of his leather chair and walked to the large window, looking out.
Outside the window of the office, there was row after row of men in a grand arena, each one yelling and urging on as they faced a large cage in the middle of the arena. There were two children locked in there, fighting viciously like animals. Men outside the cage placed bets on who would win, some throwing weapons in.
"Well? Come watch the show," Shade beckoned, smiling as Jet approached.
"What is this...?" Jet looked out the window.
"Oh, right," Shade snapped his fingers. "I forgot that you haven't been here before. This is the Itallingrad Underground, once a grand kingdom, but now reduced to shambles, with its people broken and disassembled. But now, they are strong. They no longer need a protector, and they no longer have any threats." He glanced at the cage, watching one of the kids stab another, blood splattering on the floor of the cage. "They are free." He turned to Jet. "And it's all at the palm of my hand."
Jet watched in silence, with a face mixed with awe and anxiety. "...Do the other Five Deadly Sins know about this place?"
"Hm? Oh no, I don't think so. Itallingrad is long forgotten by now, just a faded memory of the Great War. Anyway," he patted Jet's back. "Want some wine?"
~~~~
As Violet sat on the railing of the cruise ship, she began to recall her past. She didn't know why, and even if she did, she couldn't explain why.
'Why am I so weak...?' Young Violet thought. 'I was born into a family of warriors. What am I doing here? I'm just a burden to them.' She had decided to run. There was no other option in her mind. She felt that her family was wasting time attempting to train a child who couldn't fight. She walked to her window, opened it, and climbed out, landing outside in the grass, then began to run. "I'm sorry."
The streets were dark and cold, and now she regretted running away from the safety of her family. She wanted to run back into the arms of her grandmother, who has taken care of Blitz and her since their parents disappeared. 'Will I share the same fate?' she wondered.
She was snapped from her thoughts by the sound of a bottle breaking. Frightened, she ran into an alleyway, eventually finding herself at a dead end, faced with a brick wall. She turned around, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw a man covered in shadow standing there. The only feature she saw on him was his smile. A dark, twisted smile, with the intent of harm.
As the man stepped closer, Violet's back pressed against the wall. "P-please stay away..." her scared voice barely a whisper. She could smell the vile sweat and liquor on the man as he closed in.
"Well, look what we have here," his taunting voice low as he grabbed her wrists. "Lost, little one?"
'No...' she thought as she struggled, resisted in vain. 'Please, no... NO!!!"
It was a while later that her family found her, lying there on the ground in the dark alley. Her once-beautiful lavender dress was torn and now in rags, left over her bruised and naked body. "Please..."
Years later, Plum Magenta sat in the office with her granddaughter, faced with the Headmaster of Signal Academy. Violet had lost whatever light and gentleness that was in her, and her eyes were dark, and laced with a sort of hatred towards anyone who looked in them.
"Your granddaughter Violet has attacked another student here," the Headmaster began. "I understand she has been through some traumatic events, and she is now very skilled in combat, among our most skilled students, but she is now antisocial, and refuses to work with others. When a student repeatedly approached her with the intent to help her, she lashed out. You know this could result in expulsion...?"
Plum nodded. "Of course," she replied. "But remember, my other grandchild Blitz had attended this Academy as well, and had quite the habit of refusing assignments from teachers he believed were inferiors, and even fought other students, yet look at him now: disciplined, proud, and restrained. My point being, under my guidance, and a little more time here, Violet can change. She just needs someone to talk to."
The Headmaster thought about it. "...We do have student resources that can be of use. But one more occurance like this, and she's finished."
Plum stood up. "I understand, thank you." She glanced at Violet, who also stood up as they began to leave the office.
Violet was one of the many students to have graduated Signal Academy, with the help of her family and her new psychiatrist, and she smiled in the happiness she had long missed, and a sense of self-accomplishment for overcoming her inner demons. Her next destination would be Beacon Academy, where she thought safety would finally come. But she was wrong, everyone was. No one expected what happened at Beacon and the Vytal Festival. Death, chaos, discord, distrust....
"Violet!" Blitz practically yelled at her, making her blink. He let his arms fall to his sides. "You were spacing out there."
"Oh," Violet shook her head. "Sorry."
Blitz tilted his head. "Is something wrong, sister?"
Violet turned away. "No, just..." she didn't know how to explain it. "Nevermind."
Blitz looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then folded his arms. "Alright, well, we're almost at Atlas. Get ready."
Violet got off of the railing and walked alongside Blitz, looking back once at the rising dawn.
Chapter 8: Just a Stretch[]
"Are you sure about this?" Tangerine folded his arms, looking down at Darian.
"Yeah!" Darian replied enthusiastically. "Cap'n and I haven't sparred seriously in a while... and it ain't good if we're gettin' rusty."
Darian's definition of sparring was rough. It was basically full-on fighting, with nothing held back, but among friends and teammates. Tangerine wondered why this boy loved fighting so much, though he figured it was because of his past.
Richard stood there across from them, his compound bow in his hands. An arrow casket was tied around his torso. "You got your weapons, Darian?"
Darian's smile turned into a crooked grin. Just then he reached behind his back and pulled out two red-bladed knives, twirling them around a bit in a show before clutching the handles still, the points of the blades pointed at Richard. "Ya asked?"
"Just saying," Richard called. "Don't get mad when I wipe the floor with you."
The two stood there across from each other, smiling, waiting for the other to make a move.
Tangerine decided to step back, not wanting to get in the way. It was then that everything exploded.
Darian vanished, Richard took out a few arrows and jumped, aiming downward towards the ground. Darian was in his place, looking up at him. Richard fired the arrows immediately, which Darian swung his arms upward to meet them. The arrows were horizontally cut in half with precision. However, just then, the arrows exploded, revealing that they were fire dust-infused.
Richard landed on his feet, skidding a bit as he stared at the smoke. He felt a slight gust move by him, that was all he needed. No thought, just action. He moved his arms and legs to block Darian's blows, almost too fast to follow. Darian flipped, kicking Richard into the air. Richard released the gravity arrow in his quiver, allowing it to pull him back downward. Darian leaped at him, spinning with the blades in his hands like a buzzsaw, which Richard could only parry with his bow, and he pistoned his bow forward, throwing Darian off and giving Richard space and time to react. He shot a volley of arrows at Darian, who was running circles around him while dodging the arrows. One of the arrows zoned in, getting terribly close to Darian's eye--
He dodged. Darian stopped running and bent backwards as if he had no bones, avoiding the arrow. He smoothly went to a handstand and pushed himself up, somersaulting midair as something red shot from his direction, narrowly missing Richard's face. He realized that Darian fired one of his blades at him. He wasn't surprised, they were ballistic knives after all.
Richard retaliated by immediately shooting another arrow at Darian, which caught his attention. He grit his teeth and caught himself before he hit the ground, then immediately moving to run towards Richard. Fast.
Richard threw his elbow forward, but he wasn't fast enough. Something slashed across his chest, then again, and again, again, again-- until Richard kicked outward and out of luck, got a hit in.
Darian coughed and landed on all fours, grinning. "Not bad."
"You haven't seen anything yet," Richard replied, loading another arrow into his bow.
Darian's eyes widened in excitement as he burst forward, a shock wave left in his wake. He was now in front of Richard, blades raised. Richard jumped to the side and quickly pulled his bow in separate directions, changing it to a flexible, four-sectioned nunchaku as he began parrying Darian's knives. Darian's swipes were now just blurs, a flurry of fast movements. Richard could do nothing but block the attacks by swinging his own weapon around, sparks flying.
He's too fast! Richard thought. I'm better off keeping my distance.
Richard backflipped, kicking Darian's lower jaw as it made a crack sound, causing his glasses to fly off. Darian winced from the blow, but didn't stop. One of his knives transformed into a pistol, and he began firing. Richard twisted midair, avoiding most of the shots, though some did hit him, causing him to crash into a tree.
Darian reached up to his mouth, popping his jaw back into place as the walked to his glasses, picking them up and putting them back on his face. "Now, where were we--"
Something shot at him, and out of reflex, caught it. He glanced at it, and saw that it was one of Richard's arrows, fired from his weapon's bow form.
"Sorry," Richard smiled. "Thought you were ready."
"Says the guy who can't shoot," Darian smiled, before hearing the arrow click.
"Made you look," Richard raised his eyebrow.
As soon as he registered what kind of arrow it was, Darian quickly threw the arrow back at Richard like a spear before it exploded midway. The cloud of smoke dispersed like a wave as Darian ran to Richard and swiped out at him, the red of his knife flashing. Richard managed to catch his wrist, and lifted him up.
"Doesn't really help you much that you're so light," he said.
Darian gave a grin as he allowed himself to be lifted from the ground by his wrist, before twisting his own arm and quickly jabbing his leg over his head like a scorpion's stinger, kicking Richard square in the face. One of the bandages on Richard's face fell off from the blow as Darian backflipped and landed on one leg, his other raised with balance. Richard turned to glance at him, revealing why he was wearing the bandages.
On the corners of Richard's lips were reptilian glasgows, which eerily resembled a crocodile's smile. Darian knew it was actually a natural part of his jaw, since Richard was a komodo dragon faunus. A few sharp teeth were shown, despite the fact that his jaws were closed.
"There's the lizard-lips I know!" Darian teased, smiling. "...That is screwed up to say though, Cap'n, I'm sorry."
Richard laughed a bit. "Okay, you wanna go personal, shorty?"
Darian gritted his teeth, his face starting to redden. He hated it when his height was pointed out; he was only five-foot, three inches tall, which was short compared to an average height of a male his age. Richard took another arrow from his casket and took a millisecond's aim before firing. The arrow landed by Darian's feet, causing him to look down. As he glanced back up, he was hit with another arrow, ice starting to cover Darian's frame.
"Gotcha." Richard had figured out he could buy himself time by distracting his sparring teammate with a purposely-missed arrow and then use an ice-dust arrow to keep him still, since his speed and mobility was a problem for Richard.
Darian's eyes widened in surprise and took a few steps before he froze in place. "Come on, Richie," he said. "That's cold-hearted."
There was a silence at Darian's joke before Tangerine coughed awkwardly in the background. Darian looked around for approval. "...C'mon, it wasn't that bad," he sighed. "Oh, well... guess it's time to stop messin' around."
Richard took another aim at Darian. "Dude, if you took this fight seriously from the start," he said. "Then you wouldn't be trapped in ice and I wouldn't be the one about to knock your ass out.... actually, I still would."
Darian grinned. "Ya sure about that?"
Just then. the ice started to crack. Not by much, but little by little. Then, he suddenly disappeared. Richard stepped back. He assumed Darian escaped, although the block of frost was intact, and he was simply moving too fast to see. He turned, looking around until he heard the ice shatter. He glanced back and saw the ice in chunks.
That's not right... he thought. He heard something move in the trees, and he spun to face it. Nothing.
Just then, an unseeable force hit him from the side, causing him to tumble. And another, this one making his eyes widen from the impact. Worst of all, he couldn't see it. He knew it was Darian, but he had no clue where he was. Then he remembered: his semblance.
"What's the matter?" Darian's taunting voice called. "I thought ya said you were gonna wipe the floor with me!"
Richard closed his eyes, and started to activate his semblance. However, the unseen force that was Darian had slammed Richard against a tree, causing him to lose focus. He was continuously and repeatedly hit by hyperspeed volley of blows, some causing Richard to double over in pain.
Can't... focus, Richard thought. If I don't activate my semblance now, it might be over.
He quickly rolled out of the way, avoiding another hit just in time, the bark of the tree splitting as Darian hit it. "Damn it!"
Judging by Darian's frustrated curse, Richard figured that he was stuck to the tree, but he still couldn't see him. Taking the opportunity, Richard closed his eyes and activated his semblance. When he opened his eyes, everything had a sort of heat signature, signifying from dark colors ranging from blue and greens, to the one bright orange shape in front of him. It was humanoid in structure, its arm stuck in a tree. Richard knew that it was Darian.
"I can see you perfectly now," he said calmly. "I almost forgot your semblance involved camouflage. Too bad mine allows me to see thermal signatures."
Darian's frame began to ripple and morph slightly, before returning to its normal, visible form. "Isn't that cheatin'?"
Richard blinked, his vision also returning to normal. "If this is cheating, then your invisibility is hacks."
Just then, with a solid yank, Darian freed himself from the tree, bark flying, and he turned to face Richard. "Well in that case..." he raised his knives, the blades shining in the sunlight. "Back to it."
He charged at Richard with unbelievable speed the next second. Richard couldn't even dodge or let alone block, Darian was closing in too fast--
Then he stopped. He suddenly stopped, his knives inches away from Richard's face. Richard stared into the sharp points of the blades, where he saw inscriptions of some kind carved in. He didn't recognize the language, but he would've found it interesting if the blades weren't so close.
"That was fun, but," Darian placed the weapons back into their holsters, which were on his lower back. He turned to a sort of depressed expression. "It's really not the same without the whole team." He extended a hand to help Richard up.
Richard thought for a moment. He began to feel a sort of sadness. Darian was right, it doesn't really feel the same without the team together. Where are Amber and Violet?
"Well, want to go look for them?" Richard smiled softly as he reached Darian's hand, who helped him to his feet.
"As soon as possible," Darian answered. "Is that even a question?" he gave a grin.
~~~~
Amber leaned against the wall of a warehouse, casually blowing a bubble from her gum as she looked down at a map she downloaded on her scroll.
"Excuse me," a dark young woman approached her, wearing a straw hat. "Do you happen to be a huntress by any chance?" Her eyes were closed, though she raised her head up to Amber as if she could see her.
Chapter 9: Stained[]
Amber glanced down at her. She appeared totally innocent, with her brown hair tied into a bun under her hat, and a heartwarming smile.
"Yes," Amber replied, turning to the young woman. "Yes I am."
The young woman tilted her head in interest. "My sister is a huntress too, and she would be absolutely delighted to see another one of her kin, especially after what happened at Beacon. I could guide you to her if you wish, she's nearby."
Amber felt a slight chill from the mention of Beacon, but she shrugged it off. "Of course, I would like to meet her. She's from Beacon Academy?"
The young woman nodded. "Yes, and she claims to know you!"
"Alright, lead me to her."
Some time had passed until the young woman led Amber to an alleyway. At this point, her was going crazy, and seeing that it was empty, she knew something definitely was up. She was about to say something until the woman sharply turned and a quick grey movement darted from her sleeve, taking Amber by surprise and sending her crashing against the wall, bricks flying. Chains retracted back into the woman's sleeve, her hand still hidden. Amber grunted as she lifted herself from the rubble, until another chain whipped out and hit her again head-on, causing her to tumble onto the alleyway ground, but she quickly caught her balance and stood up. She squinted.
"I knew it," Amber brushed at her jacket, getting the dirt off. "It was a trap. Let me guess, you didn't have a sister to begin with."
"Oh no, I did," the young woman dropped the chains from her sleeves, revealing three heavy, hook-like claws on the ends of them, each one as big as a bowling ball. Her smile faded, but her eyes were still closed. "She died right here years ago."
Amber at that moment no longer felt irritation, but rather pity. Still, this was a dangerous woman, and she attacked her.
"I'm sorry for your loss, but," Amber reached behind her, clutching the handle of Mjolnir. "Why are you attacking me?"
"You huntresses and huntsmen are all the same," the woman slowly shook her head. "You don't care about others really, you just care about fame, and you always expect something in return for saving someone. My sister became a huntress on the mistaken belief that you all were heroes, but she was wrong. During the Fall of Beacon, she was cornered right here by Grimm, and no one helped her."
The accusation stung Amber, and she stepped a few paces back. She kept a calm composure, however, and brought out Mjolnir, shifting it to its warhammer form. "I see... yes, while there are people who became huntsmen and huntresses for selfish purposes, there are also people who risk their lives for others just because they know it's right. Many sacrifices were made during the Fall of Beacon, and I'm not going to sit here to argue with you on that. It's your choice to believe it."
The woman launched another clawed chain at Amber, but she side-stepped the weapon and grabbed it by the metal chain links, pulling the woman to her. As she was jerked forward, the woman lashed out with her claws, the metal screeching against Amber's hammer. The woman jumped back and threw her chains forward again. Amber dodged the chains, their sharp edges carving into the walls until hooking into them. Amber glanced back to see the chains pulling the woman towards her, kicking her. She stumbled slightly, but that was the only opening the woman needed to wrap her chains around Amber's legs, tripping her. The woman prepared to slam her chains down onto her prey until a short wave of voltage struck her, causing her to release Amber. She slammed her claws into the ground in an attempt to keep her from falling back, leaving a trail of dug-in marks.
"That's your semblance, huh?" the woman asked. "The ability to control electricity."
Amber swung Mjolnir onto her shoulders, glancing at the mystery woman. "What about it?"
The woman smiled. "If we're using semblances, I think it's time to show mine."
~~~
"Oi, Richard," Darian walked into the room, Richard looking up at him. "If we need a break from lookin' for our teammates, I do have tickets to that new Bone Jovi concert."
"I'll pass on that," Richard went back to clicking his weapon's chains in place, locking it into its compound bow form. "Don't really like his music."
Darian shrugged.
"Plus we don't really have time for that," Richard added. He was leaning back in his chair. "You know we can't afford any breaks."
Although it's been months since we seen each other, Darian thought. "Alright, alright..." he glanced by the facility to his right by Tangerine's home, which looked squarish. Tangerine has been in there for an awfully long time, and the huntsman was getting impatient. Rapping his fingers on the table, he rested his head onto his palm, his elbow on the wood of the tabletop.
"So..." Richard straightened up. "I used my uncle's computer."
Darian glanced at him. Last time he heard about Tangerine's computer, the older Oráiste being rather stingy about his technology, as he evidently did not want the teenage males touching it. He knew that since reuniting with his uncle, however, Richard had been using it to look through past security footage of the streets of Atlas, most likely looking for their other teammates. Darian did not complain once; as long as Richard was not caught, Darian knew it was a great idea.
"What did ya see?"
Richard leaned forward, starting to smile. "I saw the Magenta family," he said boldly. "They were on the Yggdrasil security feed, Violet was with them. However..."
He hesitated. The older sibling, Blitz, was also with them, and Darian never was in good terms with the brother of Violet.
Darian noticeably grew excited. He sat up straight from his slouching position and looked straight at Richard with eager hazel eyes. "So ya saw Violet?" he asked, almost banging his fist on the table from impatience. "And? Where are they goin'? What do ya mean, 'however'?"
Richard gave a slow sigh out of his nose. "Blitz is with them."
Darian pursed his lips and nodded. At least Violet was with the bastard, and he was willing to go through that arrogant asshole just to see her again. "Of course he is," he answered, his voice almost too quiet, uncharacteristic of him. Richard knew that wasn't a good sign.
At that moment, Tangerine walked in from the back porch, closing the dust-infused glass door, with glowed with a blue and yellow light. "There was a bit of trouble in Haven Academy," he said, shaking his head. "Fortunately, it wasn't as damaged as Beacon, but there was a large amount of White Fang activity there, and a few unidentified individuals with them. They vanished however, driven away by a group of huntsmen and huntresses. The White Fang leader Adam Taurus, said to have led the White Fang attack there, is still at large."
Richard's eyes had a dark glint in them. Darian noticed but decided not to say anything. Both him and Tangerine were aware of Richard's past with the White Fang, and didn't want to bring up any bad memories. Richard stood up.
"Darian and I are heading out," his tone was shadier than it was a few moments ago. "We may have a lead on other matters."
Tangerine only nodded as his nephew stepped by, walking out the sliding dust door, with Darian shortly behind him.
~~~
"Increase," the young woman simply said, almost like a command or incantation. At that moment, Amber felt a sort of weight placed on her, a pressure that made it more difficult to move. She looked up, and felt a blow connect to her chin, knocking her back. She registered that the woman just kicked her, and was reeling back to use her chained weapon. Amber tightened her grip on Mjolnir and prepared to swing, but the pressure made it harder for her to move in time, and the claw connected with her side. She tumbled onto the ground, gritting her teeth. The young woman walked closer, her chained claw coiling back into her long sleeve.
"Did I say you were the one to beat me?" she seemed to taunt, smirking a bit.
Chapter 10: []
(Author's Note: I apologize for not being able to work on this very often... it's my final year in school and my technology usage at home is limited. However, I should be on to edit more often. Once again, I apologize for any inconveniences.)