Chapter 1
Beacon, City of Vale
"...that would conclude Vale's current Grimm activity."
The gigantic rotating gears echoed throughout Ozpin's office. The man in question had his hands clasped together, his calm demeanor in full flight.
"Which is the say, there are barely none." James Ironwood scoffed, his irritation clear from the other side of the hologram. "Ozpin, you are taking this matter too leisurely."
"This is the most effective option I have at the moment-"
"...that wouldn't escalate the matter, yes- you already told the council that." The general waved his hand. "I am only suggesting contact. They couldn't have done such calculated operations without any technological assistance."
Multiple screens popped up from beside Ironwood's hologram.
Each of the screens showcasing different images. One of the images the general highlighted contained a video of a dust store, heavily damaged, with police officers swarming over uniformly dressed unconscious people.
The screen flashed to the owner of the store in question. "Slimy, man! The thing was slimy, it took one of my store's weapons and shot the perps."
The footage cut, a second screen played. "...creepy vines everywhere. I dunno if that was the guy's semblance or anything, 'never showed his face- wherever you are dude, thanks!"
The third screen flashed. "Fast! Everything was a blur, one moment there were those white-fang pricks, the next, they were already beaten up and tied down."
An armadillo-like faunus scratched the back of his head, behind him was masked individuals being held together by Atlesian Knights. "Dunno anything more than that blue blur, sorry."
"Strong is an understatement, I would say." An elderly man was being interviewed. "Those King Taijitus were thrashed easily by that four-armed faunus. You wouldn't happen to know that hunter, would you? My village would like to thank him properly-"
The screens paused. Ironwood crossed his arms. "This has been going for far enough, it is either contact- or we take them down."
"James-" The headmaster placated.
"Ozpin, I am telling you. These vigilantes will become a hindrance, if not a threat, in the near future-"
A ping interrupted his banter. Whatever the message was from the general's side, it made him sigh. "The Vytal Festival is approaching fast, old friend. I hope you will deal with this soon."
Ironwood's hologram switched off, leaving Ozpin alone with his fellow staff member. The headmaster took a sip from his mug.
The past month didn't earn him any favors.
Ironwood scolding him was only a front, that much he knew. The council was already on his hide from the beginning, pressuring him to resolve the issue post haste, especially since the festival is underway.
But that would most definitely leave room for mistakes; something he never liked doing.
From the what he had been told from team Covert (CVRT), one of beacon's alumni hunter teams, the vigilantes were not ones to be underestimated. They had intel prior to almost all of the events they are involved, and if not, the one with the speed semblance would be the one to intervene.
Ozpin pondered, would it be a stretch to assume one of their members had unrestricted access to the CCTS? An inside job perhaps?
Even when a situation outside the city proper would pop up; a village being attacked by wild Grimm, a random Dust store robed, their response time would beat the kingdom's dispatched hunters.
Unless, of course, if the hunters in question were already in the location.
The headmaster shook his head. Their group's system isn't important-
To him, such an organized group giving solid result would only come from an experienced team of hunters. It would always be a welcome addition to his circle, having a group with such efficiency.
His only problem would be contact; the group wasn't interested in contacting him, or anyone for that matter.
If they had been interested, they would already been invited to his office.
Ozpin was done pondering, he noticed Glynda Goodwitch was uncharacteristically silent, especially in the face of the general. She was holding her scroll, looking over its contents since Ironwood showed the feed.
"Glynda?" The headmaster called, her complete silence started to make him worry.
The woman had her brow raised, as if discovering something. "Professor Ozpin, take a look at this."
The huntress moved the video to the larger screen in front of them, it showed a freeze frame of a camera from the dust store robbery Ironwood showed them earlier.
The slimy vigilante was clear from the store's lights, it had enveloped one of the store's weapons completely. It had a jet black exterior, with neon green circuitry all over; it completely covered the weapon.
Ozpin was not versed too well with newer models, but he had particularly recognized the weapon being used. It was in its gun-form, but interestingly it had mechanical legs that the headmaster knew wasn't in the typical model.
"Look at this in particular, Professor..." Glynda zoomed in the barrel part of the weapon.
The headmaster narrowed his eyes, it was a circular emblem showing a pale hourglass symbol.
"That isn't the weapon's brand, I'm sure of it." The huntress pointed her riding crop at the screen. "That would make it-"
"Their organization's logo," Ozpin finished. "Splendid work as always, Glynda."
Before they could do anything else a sharp beeping noise filled the room, Ozpin's scroll was pinged. The headmaster answered the call, a hologram popped up but there wasn't any face that showed.
Instead, a suspiciously familiar emblem was the one popping up from the hologram; a pale hourglass symbol.
"Headmaster Ozpin." A high-pitched voice echoed throughout the room.
"Would I assume you're the Vigiantes' leader?"
The voice didn't answer.
Glynda began tinkering with her scroll, attempting to trace the source. But before she could do anything significant, her scroll received a call. She didn't even need to press anything, the scroll answered the call by itself.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"How-" Glynda, eyes wide, stopped using her scroll.
The voice behind the hologram ignored her.
"I have a lead on the white fang." A screen popped up beside the emblem. "Blake Belladonna, she's one of your school's students. I need to talk to her."
It showed a CCTS profile of the huntress in question. Ozpin, still silent, placed his mug on his office desk. "I don't know how you received such information-"
"Wait, you already knew?" The high pitched voice became more firm. "And you're not doing anything about it..."
"I-"
"You're no better, then," The voice had a disappointed tone to it.
The screen changed from the huntress' profile into a map of the city. Two particular spots of the map had blinking dots. "These are where some of the dust they stole are kept."
Glynda recollected herself. "We will see to it that the authorities are informed."
"About Ms. Belladonna-" Ozpin interjected.
"I'll be keeping an eye on her, whether you like it or not." A file transfer notification pinged both of their scrolls, most likely the map location.
"Her issue isn't something you nor I have any jurisdiction to." Ozpin looked at the emblem, feeling a gaze from the other side of the hologram. "When she finally opens up to us, I will personally handle the matter."
"Not, wha- she's a member of the white fang for crying out loud!" The individual behind the voice was practically snarling.
"Yes, but-"
"No wonder nothing gets done in this world, you guys keep playing chicken!" The voice groaned. "You huntsmen suck at protecting people, you know that?"
"Your current performance doesn't undermine the good our hunters and huntresses have done for the past-"
"Oh yeah? If you guys have been doing such a good job, I wouldn't have been forced to do this again in the first place!"
Glynda became silent.
They heard the voice trying to calm themselves down. "Like I said, Ozpin. I'll keep an eye on her, nothing more. But if anything happens, it's on you."
The hologram vanished.
Ozpin looked at Glynda.
She was angered by the voice's rather heated statements, but she was being subtle. The headmaster, however, knew what the voice said didn't fly over her head.
"Headmaster, the voice said I, didn't it?" Gynda couldn't help utter.
What did they mean by 'again'? Ozpin pondered. "Interesting..."
Bellwood, Illinois
Lt. Steel was not a man who comforts others.
Even in his private life, he was never an emotional man, yet an hour prior he just finished visiting the house of Carl Tennyson. The man was stern, but whenever the lieutenant mentions his son, he visibly shows his softer side.
Steel sighed. "Last one..."
From the Tennyson residence he walked a good half mile, arriving to the tip of the town's residential area, there he found a rather sizable park littered with of RVs and tents. A couple of campers walked past him; the lieutenant ignored the people.
"S81Z1M..." Steel recalled, finding the particular vehicle he was looking for. It was an old 978 GMC Royale Motor home, the top littered with satellite dishes. "Found you."
A wooden picnic table was by the RV. There, an old man in a red Hawaiian shirt was sitting down.
He was looking at an old portable television on top of a VCR.
...claiming the lives of the elderly couple Henry and Margaret Richmond, and a 10-year old boy.
The incident took place about 11:00 a.m. in the sky ride attraction of the falls, Niagara Falls Police Department Chief Superintendent E. Brian Calan said in a written statement.
Officers were responding to multiple calls reporting the incident when they learned the sky rides became damaged to the point two of the used ones fell to the raging rapids bellow.
The boy was with his grandfather and cousin during the incident, but the two were saved by one of the alleged alien heroes.
"The elderly couple and the young man were not on the same cable car during the incident. The couple was together, the boy and his family in another sky ride." Calan said.
Police were looking into the possibility the attack was related to the alien incident in San Francisco...
Beside the TV was a box full of random objects. The old man picked up a photo from the box.
It had Grant Wood's painting American Gothic, but the faces had holes cut into them. The holes had two kids sticking their faces out; a girl with orange hair was looking over a shaggy brown haired boy holding a deadpan stare into the distance.
"Sparksville," Steel looked over the old man's shoulder. "Great town."
"It was never a dull time with those two," Max Tennyson ran his finger over the photograph. "-especially with Ben."
"I imagine it was," Steel took a seat beside him. "that summer in particular was odder than usual, even for me."
"More so than I expected it to be. Even with those strange incidents, it was a fun ride." Max sighed.
Steel, cleared his throat. "In any event, no dice with Area 51."
"Is that so?"
"They don't even know the Null void exists."
"I figured as much."
"How about on your end?"
"The projector collapsed in on itself, we had to make one from scratch."
"Right, you already told me that. But with your resources? It has been two years, Max-"
"I know," The old man looked down. "The plumbers themselves are in a tight spot this past year..."
"First time I've heard of this." The lieutenant's brow rose.
"I didn't want to alarm you-"
Steel waved his hand, egging him to carry on.
"-thanks... building a new stable projector is proving to be difficult, very difficult."
"Damn..." The soldier rubbed the bridge of his nose.
The two went silent. Max, looking up, saw a Cessna zip pass.
"I suspected you three, you know..." Steel stared at the television. "Back in San Francisco."
"You made that abundantly clear back then."
"But I never expected that watch of his could be the source of those aliens. Some sort of comms device would've been way believable." A slight smile plastered his face. "Ha! Shows what I knew..."
"You had little to no experience with extraterrestrial tech back then, Lieutenant. I don't blame you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence there," Steel laughed dryly. "You sure you made the right choice here, Tennyson? I'm still officially SACT."
"I've made tons of bad choices in my life, Steel." Max looked at the soldier somberly. "But I've yet to fail at picking the right people for the right job."
"True, even with what happened to him... He wasn't half bad."
"No, no he wasn't"
The two men sat in silence again, the television's looped news recording echoing their vicinity.
This comforting thing isn't too bad. Steel looked at the people minding their own business, some cooking, some setting up tents, but most of them were just sitting down enjoying the summer breeze.
A good hour or so passed before Max broke the silence. "I appreciate you coming over, Lieutenant."
"Anytime, Boss." They shook hands, Steel went on his way right after.
Max was alone again. He knew in his line of work was never a safe one. Their organization ran against rogue aliens all the time.
In his own hubris, he let his grandson play hero with the most powerful device in the entire galaxy. He could have called over any of the plumbers outside Earth with level five or further tech to remove the thing completely.
But no.
The old Plumber looked at his grandson's box of souvenirs. "Ben."
Author's Note:
I love Ben 10 (classic) as a kid. I was around 8 when it first aired. Also RWBY is something I started watching since a week ago (currently halfway to volume 2).