Hello, everyone. Yes, I know the title may not fit later chapters, for those of you reading this in the future. I may change it later on. (Mental note: this story used to be called Heroes Reborn).
Some of you are probably wondering what I'm doing, writing two RWBY fics at once. Well, this is a sequel to Rise of the Archangel… okay, not exactly a 'sequel'-sequel, more of a 'happening-after-main-character-goes-to-school'-sequel. It'll make more sense in later chapters, I promise.
As always, I don't own RWBY. However, some of the characters are based off of some from other things. Therefore, I'm going to say that I don't own Star Wars: The Force Unleashed, nor do I own Sonic the Hedgehog. Strange much? Yes. Make sense later on? Hell to the yes. Ugh, this is gonna be one heluva headache.
Heroes Reborn
Sequel to Rise of the Archangel
Chapter I: Legends of Hope
(1st person, Vale 10:30 PM)
I was standing at the top of a building in downtown Vale, keeping an eye out over my hometown. I had my blue Hoplon shield on my back, a small gold gladius at my hip, and two gauntlets capable of firing off blue plasma, all at the ready. The breeze was weak, but it still felt nice blowing through my spiky royal blue hair. My green eyes scanned the dark horizon, seeing about ten miles out thanks to biological enhancements.
Gunshots to my left caught my attention, followed by other sounds of combat. All I could think was 'not another one' as I leaped off the building. Upon landing, I tore off my black cloak to reveal a blue hoodie with the arms torn off, a white t-shirt under that, black cargo shorts, and maroon sneakers. Extreme energy flowed through me as I began running faster than most airships could fly.
Running at sub-sonic speeds reminded me of what made me who I am: my father, being so smart, decided to combine my Aura with that of a cheetah and amplify it with some sort of technology. All when I was just a toddler; I only remembered because he kept on bragging about it to this day. Well, I still got something good out of it: the ability to run at supersonic speeds, blue hair, tough skin, and extremely long vision.
All in all, I got to the scene in about three seconds, even though it was about a half-mile away. A girl with a red hood, red hair, a red sniper-scythe, and black everything else was basically tearing into some guys with red swords and black suits. Both seemed to be on the offensive, so I sided with the winning side without thinking.
As a blue blur, I rolled into one of the guys with the red swords Hoplon-first; poor fella went soaring to tomorrow. A pummeled suit-man went flying at me, but I just sidestepped like it was nothing.
"Well you were worth every cent, surely you were," a male voice muttered from behind me. "Well, Red, I think it's been an eventful evening—no thanks to Little Boy Blue over here—and as much as I'd love to stick around…" I saw a cane aim at the girl, the end popping open like it was a gun, "I'm afraid this is where we part ways."
Some sort of flare went flying at the girl, but I managed to catch it with an intense burst of speed.
"Jeez," I commented on the situation, tossing the flare to my left. "Watch where you point that thing; you could've, like, killed someone or something." I turned to face… empty air. "Wait, where'd you go?"
I looked up to a building across from the little shop I just now noticed. Up he goes, climbing a ladder to the roof.
"Hey, wait up; party just started. You don't wanna leave, do ya?"
I literally ran up the wall while the girl in red shot her way up. Somehow, this girl's gun ignores physics. Not like I pay attention to universal laws or anything, but that doesn't count.
"HEY," she caught the escapee's attention. I facepalmed, remembering the first time I did that and got my tail end served to me on a silver platter. Well, I guess it worked, because the guy stopped.
"Persistent," he grumbled as one of those carry-vessel… things rose up from the other end of the building.
"Ugh, you people really don't like universal laws, do you," I commented, starting to get bored of all the physics-bending occurrences. "First you can lift a huge scythe, then you disappear. Then you proceed to scale the building by shooting your gun, and now one of those things just pops out of nowhere? Gimme a break, people."
"Hey, Blue," the crook shouted over the roar of the engines. "Dodge this!" He threw a Dust crystal at my feet, which I just kicked off the edge of the roof. "I SAID DODGE IT, NOT KICK IT!"
"Well, you never said how," I mentioned, snickering as he started losing his cool.
"SONOFA—okay, you win. Just do me a favor and die already." Another crystal, this one landing at the girl's feet. He fired off a flare, which I caught again.
"Ha ha," I mocked him. He lost it right there.
"Wise guy! I'll show you!"
"Oh, I'm seeing alright," I pulled another string. The now-identified ginger turned redder than the girl's weapon. He disappeared into the flying apparatus and came back out toting a chain gun.
"You like catching things, don't ya?" I shook my head. "WELL CATCH THIS!" A storm of bullets forced me to whip out my blue Hoplon and hide behind the shield. One of the bullets struck gold (and by gold, of course I mean Dust) and blew me up… literally. As lightweight as I was, it didn't take too much force to send me flying, and boy did I go flying.
"I can see my house from here," I shouted ecstatically, losing my joy of flight when I literally saw my house. "Oh wait, that is my house. Well played, Ginger."
When I came back down, I noted a blonde-haired huntress dressed in the odd combination of white and purple fighting alongside the scythe-wielder. Of course I had to land right on a fire-colored splotch on the ground that sent me up… again.
"Just my luck," I thought aloud, so annoyed that I was resting on the air with my hands folded behind my head. I flipped to where I was facing the airship head-first and activated my plasma-gauntlets. I went shooting down to the airship at Mach 1, just barely missing the aerial vehicle's right wing, and slammed into the roof of the building; the sonic boom rocked the machine violently to the side and sent a shockwave of dirt and dust (as in the dry brown stuff you find outside, not the energy propellant) rattling through the city. All of the racket must've messed up the ship's sensory equipment or something like that, because the craft flew away as fast as possible.
"Young man, do you know how dangerous that was," the blond-haired woman grouched at me. I just shrugged.
"Well, yeah," I confirmed, still snarky. "I just decided a sonic boom was better than another explosion sending me flying or another fight delaying the inevitable and causing even more damage."
"Come with me," she growled, clearly unhappy with my performance. I just rolled my eyes, putting my shield in its rightful place on my back and following the lady off the roof, redhead in tow.
(3rd person)
(Capital of Vale, 2 hours prior)
Matthew Sharp was at a local pub, fixing the mechanical replacement for the arm he'd lost three years prior. He would never forget the red katanas that took his right forearm and severed his left calf muscle that forced an amputation. As grateful as he was about the young Outsiders that patched him up, he was far angrier towards the White Fang and Red Angels, a group of human supremists who worked outside the kingdoms committing crimes against Faunus, than the group of 17- through 24-year-olds that made up his new family were. Even worse, he was even angrier at the Red Angels for killing his father and uncle, taking him under their wing, and finally severing ties with him in more than one way.
Hours after sunset, he found the young man he was looking for.
"Good evening, Arc," he addressed the blond swordsman. "Ready for Beacon?"
"Yeah," Jaune muttered, toting what little he owned on his back. At his left hip was his sword sheathed in his shield. "I guess I am."
Jaune and Matthew had been training together for the longest of times. His family's farm had been overridden with Red Angel supporters since before Matthew found the Outsiders. Matthew, in an attempt to protect the blond and his family, trained Jaune in swordsmanship, even helping to forge his weapon and armor. Two weeks ago, while Jaune and Matthew were training on the farm fields, a group of Red Angel aerial supporters calling themselves the 'Red Bandits' attacked the 18 square-acre farm, killing off some of the livestock; Jaune's parents were not spared. Thankfully, his seven sisters weren't in the house, but that did nothing to help the blond's mood.
Matthew grabbed two shot glasses, each filled with a brownish-yellow liquid, and set one before his training partner. The young Arc stared at the glass, raising an eyebrow at his friend.
"What's this for," Jaune asked. Sharp just chuckled.
"My grandfather had an old family tradition," Matt explained. "When something criminal happens—family members killed by Red Bandits, for example—we drink a shot of whiskey, take the perpetrators out, and drink another shot."
"But, aren't we a little young to be drinking," came the frightened reply.
"I didn't say we ever got drunk, Jaune; I just said we drank a shot." Matthew took his glass up, said a silent prayer, raised his glass to the ceiling, and spoke "to justice," before downing the shot glass in one.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I just… never drank a shot of whiskey before." Matthew made a sound suggesting that he forgot something.
"I forgot to tell you something: when you first drink to something or someone, you have to carry it out. Brings bad luck if you don't. Nearly set a bad example there; justice is the first thing I drank to."
Jaune lifted his shot glass and lifted it, raising it as if honoring his now-deceased parents, and downed it in one. The alcohol caught him off guard, making him nearly choke on the fluid. Matthew chuckled.
"It gets everyone on their first shot," he said, chuckling at his friend's coughing. A silver-haired man, wearing green and silver and toting a walking stick, noticed the two and walked up behind them.
"Underage drinking is unsafe, I hope you realize," the man spoke, scaring the living life out of Matthew. "Or are you, perhaps, honoring the dead?"
"Parents died a couple weeks ago," Jaune responded. "But I swear to God, I am not taking another drop of that—*cough*—whatever it is." Matthew rolled his eyes.
"I drink to Justice every month or so," Matthew added. "One shot only. Family tradition." The old man chuckled, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"I've seen you two training over the last couple of weeks," the elderly mentioned. "You both are quite impressive, despite your lack of transcripts." A cricket started chirping in the corner of the bar.
"Wait," Matthew damn-near shouted. "You're the Professor Ozpin?! Aren't you supposed to be at Beacon, getting ready for the incoming semester?" Jaune paled.
"He's the headmaster," Arc whimpered, groaning when Matthew nodded. "Ugh, great. There goes my chances of getting into Beacon. Thank you so much, Matt." The headmaster just chuckled and shook his head.
"Not necessarily, Mr. Arc," Ozpin responded. "I knew you two would be here from the start; I came bearing an invitation for each of you."
"Name your conditions," Matthew muttered, obviously not buying it. "There's normally a condition that follows invitations."
"There are none," he smiled.
"On second thought, a free ticket is always good," Jaune mentioned. "Count me in, I guess."
"Free is never free," Matthew mentioned cryptically, just like a wise old man would. "But I'll take my blessings where I can get them. I second that motion."
END
A/N: I know I kind of confused some people there, so let me just clarify: the Red Bandits (mentioned in Rise of the Archangel) is what equates to the air force for the Red Angels. Jaune lives on the outskirts of a city which, in turn, is in the outskirts of Vale. His family owns a farm, and with everything outside the kingdoms being totally unsafe because of Grimm, the Angels and Bandits basically have no choice but to practically mug the Arc farm. With the Arc's not totally against the Faunus in the first place, they're obviously a target for the terrorist group. As for Matt, he is Aaron's little brother, and his side of things after their father's death will be explained.
The Outsiders are a group of next-generation children of current and former Fang/Angels supporters and members. The goal of this small group is to end racism and violence amidst humanity as diplomatically as possible. Matthew, while not a member, per se, was basically saved by the group after the Angels tried to take his life. The first perspective I showed this chapter (whose name is Josiah) is actually a member of the Outsiders because of both groups mutating him into an unusable superweapon; Angels gave him supersonic speed and blue hair, Fang gave him pointy ears and enhanced hearing and vision.
Before anyone asks or gripes about me skipping over his conversation with Goodwitch, Ozpin, and Ruby, I'm skipping it because: one, I don't want to; two, I feel that would bore some readers; and three, I don't really feel I could make it seem realistic. As for Jaune and Matt meeting Ozpin, I feel it could've happened a couple hours prior to Ruby's encounter with Roman, hence them speaking with Ozpin first.
I didn't really like V3 E12 (Volume 3 finale) when I saw it, so I'm changing a few things around here and now. Jaune will no longer be as weak as he was in canon, and several mythical forces will be incorporated into one or two teams (as seen with Matthew being the brother of Aaron and thus a son of Angelus (see RotA) and Josiah basically being Sonic the Hedgehog). I warn you now beforehand, there will be some profanity, little romance, some crude humor, and lots… and lots… and MEGATONS of action. Maybe some foreseen OOC characters to fit the fic.
For those who read Rise of the Archangel, fear not: I am not giving up on that fic. Seeing as how this fic takes place around 3 or 4 years after RotA, I feel it appropriate that I should work on both fics simultaneously (or as close to simultaneous as I can get).
As always, tell me how you liked it in a Review, request any plot events or OC's in a PM, and I'll see you all next time. Adios.
