Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. Simple enough.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

Prologue: Memories of Homecoming

It had been a little over two months since the Vale Crisis, and the word "busy" seemed like a massive understatement. With much of Vale in shambles, the Academy had constantly been sending out students to form working parties. While the bulk of the fighting, and loss, had been with the local militia and hunters, the school body had remained relatively untouched. This made Beacon Academy the primary HQ for the reconstruction. It housed the government, military, and civilian leadership temporarily. The Altesian Military had sent a small force after an official request from Beacon for auxiliary support and supplies.

But honestly, that didn't really matter to the students and teams of Beacon. They still had a ton of work to do. Team RWBY had done everything from escort to combat rescue at this point, all with a professional hunter leading them. The Crisis had put a hold on their education on hunting and sped up their learning of practical skills, such as first aid, reconnaissance, and tracking. So not only did the teams have to go to class, they usually had extra assignments (not quite missions) every other day to do, with a day or two for rest between it all.

On the bright side? Reconstruction work was almost done. Another week was the closest estimate Professor Ozpin had been able to give, and the amount of cheering in the mess hall due to the news probably showed on a seismograph.

Ruby flopped down on the bottom bed of their makeshift bunk bed, exhausted from the day's activities. They had just gotten back a little past one o'clock AM, and they were settling down for the night. Much like the rest of her team, the constant action had begun taking its toll on her. Her eyes were starting to darken from the long days and nights. Her clothes and room were a little more messy than normal, and this lingering hunger wouldn't go away. They'd been working on military rations, as the food needed to go to the temporarily displaced civilian population. Their caloric intake just didn't quite match up with the intensive schedule; and as a result, many students were never quite full.

Blake and Yang didn't show the exhaustion as badly as she did, but Weiss had become some other beast altogether. "Can…Can we just get a break?" Ruby groaned as attempted to crawl under the sheets. Weiss bopped her head, frowning at her irritably.

"Excuse me, but that's my bed. Yours is up there." Weiss growled in annoyance. Ruby groaned and rolled over, causing Weiss to sigh. "You know what, whatever." Weiss clambered onto Ruby's bed and unceremoniously plopped down as well. Blake and Yang just stared as the two immediately dozed off into dreamless sleep.

"You know it's a whole new level when she doesn't chew Ruby out for something like that." Yang muttered as she cleaned up for the night. Even being exhausted wasn't an excuse for clean of the day's sweat and muck.

"That and she decided to not change out of her clothes. Or take a thirty minute shower." Blake undid her bow and yawned. "Still, I agree. This pace we're doing is draining."

"Yeah. I mean, they're working us students to the bone. Kinda makes me miss our lazy class days really. And no, I don't mean the hectic times when we were fighting bad guys."

"You? Miss class? What are you and what have you done to Yang?" Blake teased as the blonde bombshell did her evening stretches. Yang simply grinned as she dropped and started her pushup sets. "On the bright side: we're almost done, and we're learning a lot more important stuff than what the small fur color differences on a Beowulf means."

"Uh-huh, but that means I have to start pretending to be paying attention in class again. Oh, did I say pay attention? I meant sleep through Port's long lectures." Yang pumped out the pushups easily. After her first set of fifty, she flipped over and sat against the bottom bed, debating finishing the sets or going to bed. At least, that was until her thoughts were interrupted by a light growl from her stomach. Yang rubbed the back of her head sheepishly and grinned at Blake, who seemed rather unsurprised by the noise.

"What? There wasn't a lot to eat. We've been burning so much energy, we can't regain it all quick enough!" Yang huffed defensively. "Don't act like your stomach doesn't growl."

Blake smiled weakly at her, "At least I know I'm not alone now. It's hard working on military rations. Especially when it's all so unappetizing." She shivered thinking back to her choice of tuna steak with brown rice ration pack. She didn't realize she could taste regret until she had bit into that…thing.

"Yeah. There was something fishy about that tuna you had that one time." Yang stood up and sauntered over to the restroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Blake's eyes narrowed on the doorway Yang had just gone into, wondering if that fishy comment was a joke. "Yew jush gott' pu' a lotta ho' sau' on it." Yang called out while brushing her teeth.

"Say again?" Blake lifted her head from the book she was reading, this time a crime novel recommended to her by Sun. She heard Yang spit and rinse before the blonde stepped out.

"I said, yew jush gott' pu' a lotta ho' sau' on it." Yang bit her thumb and spoke through it like she had a brush in her mouth, grinning at her partner. Blake rolled her eyes and rolled over onto her bed.

"I still regret picking it. That was a crime against tuna, let alone food in general."

"Hot sauce, Blake."

"I don't like spicy things. You know that already."

"Oh, got a cat's tongu-" Yang was unable to finish before a spare pillow smacked her square in the face. "Okay. I deserved that." Yang climbed onto her bed and whipped out her scroll to check on her social page, checking the updates from her friends.

"Yaaaang?" Ruby whined out, causing her to peek over the edge and down at her sister, "Could you keep it down? Thaaaanks." Yang gave Ruby a thumbs up and rolled back over, the bed swinging slightly at her movement. She swiped the screen up repeatedly, looking in boredom at the mundane updates and gossip.

One of her friends got pregnant from another friend. Oh no, how scandalous. They weren't even together-together as Nora would put it.

Another was crying over the loss of life from the Vale Crisis still, but to her knowledge said friend still had yet to actually do anything like volunteer to come help or donate.

A third had started a comment war with another over who was the worse 'bitch.'

The fourth had checked in somewhere in the middle of nowhere along Route 18—wait. Yang scrolled up quickly to see the status update. She clicked on it and it pulled up several pictures taken from a scroll. The pictures were of scenic landscapes, taken from the highway past the forests. A few pictures that interrupted the landscapes featured rather greasy looking diner food. Grease logged bread, a fatty slab of ham or some kind of meat, eggs, and what probably could pass for hash browns, caused her stomach to growl a little more. "Damnit." She whispered and continued flipping through the pictures.

"Hm? Did you say something?" Yang flipped back to the picture of the greasy breakfast and leaned down to show it to Blake, who groaned. Yang retracted her arm and wondered if it was from hunger or disgust. "Is that Welks?

Yang quickly shot him a text: You bastard, stop making me hungry with your pictures. "Yep. Son of a bitch is on a road trip back home. I should've told him to stay." Yang flipped on to pictures of the Frauline (Welkin's motorbike) opened up for maintenance. Finally she paused on a picture of Welkin leaning against his motorbike. He was still wearing the ice pink jacket, but he leaned against the bike pretending to be a smooth operator. He even had some pretty nice rectangular sunglasses! Despite the scars, Welkin had a soft grin as he tried to look cool in his current profile picture.

Yang quickly shot off a second text: Btw, you look silly in that picture.

"Didn't he leave a day or two ago?" Blake asked as Yang's phone buzzed.

Yang stifled a giggle as she replied to Blake. "Yeah. Something like that. He should've been there by train by now. Lemme ask him." Yang switched from her social page to text again to continue sending messages.

Crasher4.13: Srsly, I am the only guy who could make pink look SCARY.

Fireballin17: Nah. Pink isnt scary. Where r u?

Crasher4.13: Motel on Route 18. Drove all day.

Crasher4.13: Shouldn't you be asleep?

Fireballin17: I was gonna, then I saw your pics.

Fireballin17: Damn you again. Also Blake says damn you. :P

Crasher4.13: ?? Oh. Oh that was this morning. You wouldn't have liked it. Too much grease, even for me.

Crasher4.13: Wait, Blake?!

Fireballin17: Yep. You owe me more food when you get back. :)

Crasher4.13: Srsly? Fine. Gotta sleep, and you should too. Anything else?

Fireballin17: I thought you'd be back. What gives?

Crasher4.13: Remember I jumped a police barrier once? They never forgot about it.

Fireballin17: Oh, when you were passing Vermillion Ridge, right?

Crasher4.13: Yep. Spent a day in lockup as punishment, and got a lecture on public safety.

Fireballin17: Ew, that's gross.

Crasher4.13: Yep. I'll ttyl, really gotta sleep. You should get some too.

Fireballin17: I'll try. GN.

Yang turned to see Blake peeking just over the mattress at her, her catlike eyes betraying the clear smirk she had from her hidden lower face. "What?"

"You were smiling while texting him." Yang raised an eyebrow. Was she even, or was Blake just teasing? Knowing Blake, probably the latter. "Soooo what'd he say? Does he miss you? Oh, did he profess his desire to return to your arms?" Yang flicked Blake's forehead with her finger until her partner tipped over and fell off the bed.

"For someone so quiet, you really lose your composure when it comes to romance." Yang leaned over to grin at her partner, who had quickly retreated under her covers and away from her. "I wonder how Sun would react to that. Oh! I should introduce him to some of your romantic literature."

"You wouldn't dare talk to him about stuff like this." Blake glared at her partner. "Besides, I'm just curious."

"Oh you know him. Got into trouble, again. Police threw him in jail for running a blockade." Blake raised an eyebrow. "Oh...uh yeah, it was during the Vale Crisis. Remember when he got really hurt?" Yang heard Blake mutter something along the lines of 'he's always getting hurt...'

"Lucky number thirteen living up to the name. At least he's home." Blake closed her eyes, "Good night Yang." She heard Yawn yawn out something along the lines of yep. She drifted off slowly, trying to get as much rest as she could before tomorrow came and the routine continued. Hopefully, Ozpin would let them have a longer break. And maybe get some real food back on the menu.

The dreary overcast continued to hang overhead as the morning rolled on. The dense fog started to lift along the highway, Route 18 North, and the grassy plains waved to the soft breeze. The breeze carried the scent of sea salt over the open road. Welkin Amaranth-Fenrir took a deep breath as he leaned against his motorbike, chewing on a protein bar while going through his scroll's social app. He tossed the wrapper aside and double checked his route. He woke up extra early to get back before the sun was fully up, just so he could take in the current foggy view. Also it seemed like grimm avoided the roads around this time more often.

He pulled out another banana nut protein bar he had from a belt pouch. He couldn't help but wonder about home. It didn't have the resources nor renown like Vale to rebuild as quickly. Last he heard from the diner cook, the town's turned upside down every which way. They were still fighting for parts of the city.

Welkin bit into the bar and dusted his gauntlet armored hands off on his dusty pink coat. The long coat had been modified a bit since he got it from Yang, such as changing the symbols on his back to the old courier emblem and adding extra pockets to the interior. During his brief stop, he found a tailor willing to change it for him for a hefty price. The man worked fast, and made the adjustments well ahead of schedule.

Welkin stood at a fairly tall six feet one inches. He was built like a tank, that is to say, large and incredibly muscle bound. His height and sheer mass combined together to make him incredibly imposing, and he was often mistaken for a college level rugby player. His hair was dark pink, almost red depending on the lighting conditions. He had cut it short and spikey. Welkin had a light brown complexion, given how much time he spent under the sun.

He probably would have been a poster example of the perfect Altesian soldier, were he in the army. Big and macho, but the light smirk he usually wore on his face contrasted the whole dumb muscle look. Welkin had a fairly square jaw and well defined features. His steel grey eyes contrasted sharply with his pink hair and outfit.

He wore a red muscle shirt and a pair of white cargo pants with black boots. On top, he had carapace composite armor. The armor protected his torso and back, and he had armor on his thighs and shins. Welkin wore a pair of striking gauntlets that were dark pink with white highlights. While deactivated, the striking plates on his gauntlets were folded away with the rest of the piston module. His greaves and boots had a bulky anchor module built into it.

To finish off the outfit, Welkin wore an open ice pink jacket that went down to his knees. The jacket had four internal pockets, two on each side of it. His sleeves were rolled up to accommodate his gauntlets. His left sleeve featured a patch with the updated Star of Polaris emblem: a winged box with a sword running through it. His other sleeve had a big red 'Thirteen' embroidered onto it in military stenciling style. Under the number were four silver stars.

Breathing in the fog and sea air, Welkin stood from his position on the bike. He adjusted his coat, straightening it and fixing the armor underneath. As he held onto the protein bar with his teeth, he quickly retied a long fading red scarf around his neck, and secured it to his courier messenger bag so it wouldn't fly around while he was driving. The scarf was decorated with a lightning bolt that ran lengthwise and ended at a flame on the scarf end. He gracelessly crammed the rest of the protein bar into his mouth and dusted off his hands on his pants.

After swallowing the bar with some water from his water bottle, Welkin swung his right leg back over the white and red motorbike and twisted the old key ignition. The bike roared to life, thrumming with power. In the distance and through the lifting fog, he could see the humble skyline of Alistier. He stopped momentarily to take a picture of the canal city covered in fog. Satisfied, he put the scroll back into his coat pocket and slid on his combat goggles.

He followed the familiar road home, looking at the city by the sea. He smirked; perhaps city wasn't the best description for it. It was more like a big town than anything. Granted, the town DID have a military force in the area, and it was home to the not so secret weapons testing zones. Assuming the main bases didn't end up like chowder, much like Fire Base Heyman and X-Ray, the military was probably in control. He could already see the military checkpoint they had set up. Behind it was a refugee camp made of those barracks type tents the military always kept in storage. That was a good sign. Welkin rolled up to the check point slowly, stopping in front of a soldier who had waved him down.

"License and identification please?" Welkin dug through his coat pockets and pulled out a card holder, showing the grizzled military officer his courier ID and driver's license. He also pulled out his weapon's license, just in case the guards were worried about how loaded for grimm he was. "Courier huh? Got any packages to declare?"

"Nope. Rushed back here when I could to help out. I live here." Welkin opened his courier bag and showed the empty pouches to the man.

The guard nodded and checked the weapon's license. "Power gauntlets and a sniper rifle. Do you really need that kind of firepower kid? Aren't you a glorified mailman?"

Welkin grinned, "Honestly, it's probably more dangerous than you'll ever know." He tapped the thirteen on his coat sleeve, "Lucky thirteen so they say. So can I go in?"

"Yep. Refugee camp is to the right. We opened up this part of the freeway so we're not in the city proper. The other exits to Route 18 have been barred and fortified, so the only way for civilians to get into the city proper is through the exit on Katina Avenue. From there, the rest of the city is open, though only the Adriatic docks and parts of Sargasso district have been properly reclaimed. If you want to help, the HQ section at the Central Post Office can guide you around." The guard finished explaining and rose the white vehicle barrier. "Good luck. Welcome back to home, kid."

The following section comes from a mysterious document called the Encyclopedia. It contains knowledge from around the world, compiled together for ease of access. While it can be edited, the program is constantly watched for people attempting to twist history or facts. The Encyclopedia is a solid resource for finding information, even if it's basic information, about past events, people, or things.

Article Entry: The Vale Crisis

The Vale Crisis was perhaps the biggest security slip up in the history of Vale. Despite warning signs and increased criminal activity, the police were unable to predict and prevent the Crisis. The Crisis began when an unknown organization, assumed to be White Fang, activated a set of "Faustus Boxes" that disabled all power and communication in the city of Vale. These boxes were designed specifically to drain power, dust, and energy on a large scale, much like an electro-magnetic pulse but significantly more effective. The ensuing panic and riots that took place after was only worsened by a grimm invasion. The invasion destroyed large parts of the city and contributed the most to the loss of human life.

It is thanks to the huntsmen and women of Beacon Academy that the city was able to stop and defeat the incursion. Particularly, teams RWBY and JNPR of Beacon Academy distinguished themselves by hunting down and shutting down all four Faustus Boxes. With intel from Courier Four-Thirteen, and the assistance of other hunters, the two teams were able to disable all four boxes. This gave the leadership a chance to regroup and communicate, and improved counter offensive operations.

The number of mistakes by the terrorist organization ultimately led to the successful victory by the huntsmen and women. The terrorists failed to shut down the main communications tower at Beacon Academy, failed to assassinate Professor Ozpin, and ultimately failed to get any of their demands (many of which are still classified). The organization also failed to hide the massive tracks it had left behind, and an organized military operation against their many bases effectively crushed the terrorists.

For a better overview, historians recommend the article "The Crisis" by Professor G. Greens, who digs into the Vale Crisis more in depth than this article.

Notes:

Man, it's been a while since I wrote anything. Actually, that's a lie. It's been a while since I published anything. When I started Devil's Hunt a while back, I thought I had finally found something I was interested in writing all the way through. Big Grimm hunting? That sounds awesome. But in the end it just, didn't feel right. After a few chapters, it just didn't click anymore. I didn't think much about it honestly. It was just another bump in my history of writing. Truth be told, after I gave up on that, a part of me felt like I wasted all my time and I felt burned from it.

But then something interesting happened. I got a review for Thirteen which I wrote...god, so long ago. It feels like a spark was lit again and, well, suddenly my interest in writing was rekindled. I went over Thirteen over a day or so (mind, the monster is like, 350 pages/130k words long), and I realized...well it was good but I need to REALLY edit it. That was written at the tail end of Volume 1 of RWBY, and so much has changed or clarified. Like naming conventions. If you've read Thirteen, you'll notice some names just seem off.

It was then that I decided to write this. Those kind words the reviewer had left me had made a mark on me, and I decided to go ahead and write an official sequel to it. Well, not so much a sequel, as you'll see when you read. Think of this piece as a bridging story. There won't be a definite time where or when these occurred, but they definitely occurred before, and during volumes two and three. It wouldn't be reasonable for characters to just reappear after being missing for two volumes after all. This will link volume one to three, and eventually into the true sequel of Thirteen.

I'd like to also say that, while this is a sequel to Thirteen, I'm working on making it stand alone. Does that mean I recommend reading Thirteen before hand? Well, sure, but that isn't necessary. It's pretty outdated and needs significant revision or editing, just to bring things back up to canon (Thirteen was written at the tail end of Volume One after all). This work is significantly more light hearted than Thirteen, and is going to focus on characters and relationships more than anything. More slice-of-life with a little bit of action so I can keep practicing writing that. It's setting things up for the eventual post-Volume Three sequel I'm planning.

Whoa, this has gotten a bit long. I apologize. Most notes will probably go after the Article Entries I use for world building. I just feel I should clarify some things before people dive in and go "What the hell is happening, who is this guy, what is this event, what have I gotten myself into?"

One more thing. This story is marked for teens and above. There will be cursing, as I personally think it's not a bad thing. I apologize if people find it excessive, but these are college age kids and Beacon is practically a university for teaching combat and hunting. It won't get explicit and no one will be dropping f-bombs like they were edge lords or "cool kids". But I would like readers to know, that shit gets fucking used.

I would like to thank you for your time and consideration, and I would especially thank the reviewer who gave me the inspiration to write again. It's corny as hell, but it genuinely helped. I've got a lot in store for this work, and let's see if this train has no brakes.

If you have questions or comments, feel free to message me!