RWBY: The Next Generation:
Chapter One: Silver Trailer
Winter always came early to Patch. The small island ,a few miles off the coast of Vale, was already blanketed with a light snowfall. Despite the seemingly dark blue sky, flakes of snow gently floated to the ground in mass. There was no wind, making the early dusk hours of the night very peaceful.
Among these snowflakes we see a figure with a silver hood on his head. One could see his messy silver lockes gently flowing with the almost non-existent breeze. He's wearing a silver long sleeved button up shirt, with an elongated pointed collar. He wears a gray cloak that is billowing in the wind, a brown leather string tied in a knot.
On his legs he wears dark leather pants with a belt hung lazily at his waist. His boots are also black with three bucked belts fastening them on.
The young boy was stood on a cliff edge, staring at the gray sky that seemed to expand for miles in front of him. Behind him was the grave of Summer Rose, the late mother of the famous huntress Ruby Rose.
The boy muttered some words, inaudible among the sudden gust that seemed to pick up. He whipped his head around to look at the woods behind him. Nothing was to be seen, save for the snow covered, leaf-barren trees that sway softly in the wind.
The boy turns back to the cliff, and lowers his head in thought for a short moment before leaving. His cloak billows with the wind as he trudges off the snowcapped hill.
The boy traveled through the forest for about twenty minutes. Most of the trip his head was lowered in thought. The snowfall was slowly picking up, and he could soon tell that a blizzard would soon be raging through the woods.
The boy emerged into a clearing he was quite familiar with. He passed it every time he headed home. However tonight, something seemed off. The air was calm, despite the intensifying snowstorm.
The boy raised his head and saw the cause of his tension. An entire pack of Beowolves. Creatures of Grimm that hunt in packs, and, while not notably physically strong for a Grimm, have been known to tear men to shreds with their long claws and sharp teeth.
The boy looks around and recognizes the pattern. Beowolves had a nasty habit of always attacking their pray the same way. They hunted well, being able to track virtually any living thing, but the actual kill was messy. Beowolves, while cleverly surrounding their targets, sent small groups of their pack at their targets in waves. This normally leads to several of their pack getting slaughtered, but their sheer numbers normally are able to overpower most untrained humans.
"You guys are gonna need more cannon fodder, thirty-five of you against one of me seems pretty unfair, for you guys that is." the boy mutters in a soft voice.
The Grimm of course couldn't understand the boy and even if they could probably neither heard nor care of the boys quip. The first group charged. About six or seven beewolves.
The leader of the charge made a grab for the boy but came up empty handed tumbling across the snow. The others skidded to a halt, confused that their pray had vanished.
One looked to the sky and saw their pray; and their end.
The boys cloak had been thrown off to reveal a teenage boy of about sixteen years old. His short silver unkempt hair billowed with the wind, and his silver eyes glared strikingly down. On his chest was a silver button up shirt with a black shirt underneath. On his shoulder he wore a small piece of armor called a pauldron. His pants were black and on his feet were black combat boots that had three buckled straps securing them.
He whipped around and pulled out his weapon, a short, silver rifle that had a blade running down the bottom of the rifle, a small gear contraption near the stock of the rifle. He took aim at a beewolf and fired.
The shot rang out through the air, and less than a second later, a beewolf was ripped to shreds and fell into the snow with a loud thud. The others in the pack turned to the fallen for a second before refocusing on their prey.
The boy hit the ground just as another beewolf charged, he gracefully leapt over the wolfs grab and shot it down, rolling off to the side, shooting another in its maw before it could pounce.
Another took a slash of its claw at the boy, but failed to land it as he ducked under the swipe, kneeing the beewolf in the stomach before delivering a swift kick to its jaw.
The boy took a step back before flicking a switch on his rifle. The barrel splits in two and folds back, allowing the blade to spin up and settle into place, creating a long curved katana.
Two beewolves attacked the boy, pouncing once more, the boy rolling under them, bringing his sword up at the arc of his roll. After a short beat, both beewolves split in two and fell to the ground.
Several more beewolves charged the boy, but he would have none of it. The boy took aim and fired a propulsion shot downward, propelling himself skyward. The beewolves stopped in their tracks, looking up at him. Some of them tried to jump after the boy, but he had air superiority. He twirled past one beewolf, bringing his sword through it in the process. The next he simply plunged into full speed, shoving his blade through the beewolf's sternum. A beat past and he fired a shot, sending the beewolf hurtling towards the ground.
The boy landed, and slashed through another beewolf before blocking the slash of two beewolves behind him. The boy maneuvered his blade to put the claws in front of him before parrying them away and executing a spin attack, slicing the beewolves to pieces.
One beewolf tactfully approached the boy at the same time one was pouncing from behind; the boy parried away the strike from behind and flipped past the beewolf in front of him, slashing him to bits in the process.
The boy righted himself and looked ahead. There was only three left. The one in the middle was far larger than the rest. An alpha. The boy righted himself and raised his katana, ready for the final showdown.
The three charged, their snorts and growls could be heard as they trudged across the clearing.
Rearranging his strategy, the boy sheathed his katana in the silver and gold sheath on his right hip, keeping his hand on the handle of his blade. He closes his eyes and waits.
Just as the three pounce on the boy, as quick as the flash of lightning he draws his blade, travelling a few feet in front of him, the world holds its breath as the three Grimm stay in the air for just a second.
The boy slowly slides his blade back into its sheath and as the guard meets the sheath, the Grimm fall to the ground, slashed to bits.
The boy checks his surroundings, making sure that the Grimm he fought are all subdued, before retrieving his fallen cloak and continuing along the path.
Faster than he could react, a beewolf that survived the encounter pounce from a hedge, claws poised to draw blood. The boy went for his blade but before it was halfway out of its sheath, the sound of metal slicing flesh, could be heard, and the beewolf fell to the ground dead.
The boy looked towards his savior, who landed a few feet down the path. He looks up and knows who it is as her boots come into view. The voice of his savior comes through as she folds her scythe down into its compact form.
"Argentum, what did I tell you about coming out here without telling me." the woman states.
Argentum puts a hand on the back of his head rubbing his head sheepishly.
"Yeah, sorry about that….. mom."
This was a work fanfiction written and published by a fan on a non-profit website. The writer claims no profit or ownership to the RWBY series, its characters or settings. The writer does claim ownership of all original characters, original weapons, original plots and all other original elements that appear in this fanfiction.