Chapter 1. The Arrival
Long ago, in an age forgotten, there were the four. They know not when the first four arose, only that eventually each of the original rider's began their own family. Throughout the years and across the worlds these four families maintained the balance. Each time a horseman was needed in a world the powers would manifest in the current generation of that family.
Strife and Fury have been dormant for decades, but Death, assuming the role as mentor, must prepare this age's War. For out of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, only he has an oath to follow…
From the peaks of Heaven,
To the depths of Hell.
All my enemies I swear to fell.
Let all who would oppose the four,
Behold in Terror
THE WRATH OF WAR!
Jaune awoke with a start, his eyes darting about the room. It was still the same setting he had known for the last year. Ever since his family had let his mentor take him to train. Jaune Arc was going to Beacon today to start his huntsman training, even though it was largely unnecessary by now. Jaune now stood an intimidating six-foot-three and weighed in at about two hundred and fifty pounds of solid, very visible muscle. Stepping into the bathroom Jaune took note of his face. His hair was now very long, half-way down his back and pale blonde, his eyes were paler as well and would become entirely white when engaged in full combat. The most striking detail was the shape on his face. It was an almost complete circle, with each of the ends resting on his cheekbones, while down his forehead a vertical line extended from his hairline to the bridge of his nose.
"Jaune, what's wrong?" A voice asked from behind him.
Jaune turned and took note of the figure who had been his mentor for the last year. He was shorter than Jaune, but undeniably more powerful. This was Mike, or Death as he was more appropriately called.
"It's nothing, just the current's call." Mike nodded. The currents, currents of time, events, and fate, pulled and called to the Horsemen very strongly. It was how the Horsemen got to where they were needed as fast as they did.
"Well get ready, Ruin is getting jittery." Death said, striding back out.
Jaune nodded, taking one last look in the mirror before stepping away to get dressed.
Jaune's clothing of choice was very similar to his predecessor. Instead of a pauldron set with demon faces and an unarmored chest Jaune preferred a mix of his family armor style with the Horseman style. Jaune's armor was black plate with red trim, an individual chest piece that covered his pectorals and smaller plates that decorated his abdomen and obliques. His shoulders and upper arms were bare of any armor, though his right bicep had a number of black leather bands each decorated with a silver coin. His forearms and hands were protected by elbow length bracers of red leather and black metal half-finger gauntlets.
The other equipment was scattered across his body. A folded up crossblade on his lower back, the pistol Mercy on his right thigh, the abyssal chain on his left gauntlet and the voidwalker on the right. The last thing he needed was his belt buckle, which served as the means of summoning Ruin, his horse. It was the very same spectral steed that every iteration of War had ridden, and whenever Jaune didn't need him the horse was free to do as it pleased. Ruin was currently wandering about in the fields that surrounded Deaths dwelling, but when Jaune sent out a mental call for him he came running.
"War!" Death called out, walking with a black cloth bundle folded up in his hands.
"Death." Jaune responded calmly.
"Your sister's made you something, and so did I." Death unwrapped the cloth, setting the metallic object that was within on the ground before Jaune could get a good look at it.
The cloth was actually a short cape of sorts, with a beaked hood. It, like most of his armor, was black with the trim being a vivid red. This was definitely from his siblings, it looked too fine not to be. Death gestured with a nod, and Jaune stooped down. In only a few seconds the cape was around Jaune's shoulders, and as soon as Death was done Jaune straightened up and pulled the hood up. Death, even in this incarnation, started as Jaune looked almost exactly like the last War did. The long hair that parted in the back and came down the front on either side, the beaked hood obscuring the face partially, and the proud stance in which he held himself.
"Nice, and from me. Took a bit of work to get it done." Death then held up the tremor gauntlet, or at least a modified version of it. It was much smaller, sleeker, but no less intimidating. Jaune took the weapon and studied it for a moment, before removing his abyssal chain, slipping the new piece of equipment on, then replacing the chain.
"Thank you Death." Jaune said, marveling at the new item.
"You're welcome. Now go give them hell, Jaune." Death said, using Jaune's birth name for the first time. A fact not lost on the young man.
No more words needed to be spoken, Death returned to whatever it was that he did. Jaune watched for a moment, before hopping up into the saddle on Ruin's back. Ruin reared in savage joy before charging off, the mental link between him and Jaune allowing for Jaune to steer Ruin without ever touching any reigns.
It was still early morning when Jaune reached the airship docks to take him to Beacon, not even the airship itself had arrived. Ruin huffed in relief as his charged dismounted, pawing the ground with a flaming hoof.
"Go. I will call if you are needed." Jaune commanded.
Ruin nodded before sinking into the ground, only a small scorch mark indicating his ever being there.
"Now then, what to do?" Jaune pondered aloud. He could hear it, the whisper of his weapon. It called to him, enticing him. It hungered for new enemies. "Soon, Chaoseater. Very soon." The whispering stopped, the weapon satisfied with the promise of future bloodshed.
There would be plenty in the months to come.