Revived
Hey guys! My first Fanfiction is at a little bit of a standstill, so I'm working on another one! For those of you who like my other Fanfiction, it'll come, I promise!
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, it belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth, extensively. I do not own Destiny, it belongs to Bungie and any other company affiliated in the making. I do, however, own any and all OCs as well as twisted plot/Canon.
-= *Revived* =-
Black. That's all that she could see. But...the color of it...black...that means there's light...right?
She tried forcing her eyelids open, but to no avail. Heh, she thought. A veil.
"Guardian." a male, almost robotic voice sounded. "Guardian? Eyes up, Guardian." It sounded...human...with the voice fluctuations and all. 'Guardian?' she thought. I'm a huntress, though.
She forced her eyes a little more and feeling rushed through her body. She was...on the ground. It felt uneven, the wind brushed her crimson hair into her eyes and she moved it out of the way. She opened her eyes fully now to show her the black glove on her hand. She rushed her other hand to feel it, but her other hand was covered too. She brushed her hand on her cheek to feel an otherworldly feeling. It felt like...rough plastic...or something.
"It worked," the voice said. "You're alive!"
"Alive?" she said with a raspy-sound in it. Oh, how she wanted water! She stood up, or at least tried to. She stumbled a few times before standing up. Before her, was a large, snowy field with grass here and there. Rusted cars scattered the entirety of the plains with a large, old metal wall to her right. A large entrance in it as well. The setting sun gleamed off of it despite the rust.
"You don't know how long I've been looking for you," the voice pierced her thoughts as she looked around for it. Only to find a floating...thing.
"W-what? Who...what are you?"
"I'm a Ghost," it said with it separating its part and its unusually shaped iris of an eye moving around in exaggeration. "Well...I'm your Ghost now."
"Mine?" she asked. "And 'Ghost?' That hardly seems fitting."
"Well," it said, looking to the side. "You're going to see a few things that'll change your mind."
"And me?" she changed the subject. "What about me? I hardly remember a thing..."
"Well, you..." he started. "You've been dead a long...long time."
"How long?" She didn't care how stupid things sounded now. She wanted to know at least something, even if it was stupid.
"Hundreds of centuries."
She deadpanned. He sounded so serious at that, she shook her head a little. "Well, where are we?" If he said hers, he'd do as she said, right?
"Outside of the Old Cosmodrome, Old Russia," he replied. "And we should hurry, this is Fallen territory. They'll be on us soon."
"Old Cosmodrome? Old Russia?" she asked. "Fallen. What the Dust is going on?!" She frantically waved her hands in the air as a large, raspy roar echoed across the plains.
"They're close!" he yelled. "Stay still!" she looked back to him to see him disappear.
"Where'd you-"
"I'm still with you! Now run to the wall, I'll explain a lot of stuff later!"
She ran at full sprint through the rusted car area. "What do you mean by a 'lot of stuff?!' Why not everything?!"
"That would take a decade's teaching without sleep." he said calmly, as he was literally in whatever she wore. "Just keep going."
Another roar elicited from behind her as she saw a few, bluish bullets fly past her. "What is that?!"
"Just keep going," he replied as she began to hear her metal boots clank against the grates beneath her. She'd just entered the large entrance and slammed against the wall as she turned.
"Agh!" she screamed in little pain as she ran up the steps and around another corner. It was going by so fast she didn't take time to look at her surroundings.
"Keep going, I didn't bring you back from the dead only for you to die again." She took the words to heart. She, too, did not want to die twice.
She ran into a large room with a catwalk. "Shh," the Ghost said. "They're right above us." She sneaked in a crouch as she moved ever so slowly forward towards the large expanse of darkness. She heard a little sizzle and a light appear from behind her. She stopped to look over her left shoulder to see the Ghost there. "I'm just being a flashlight," he said.
She quietly looked back forward. The room was dank as she walked ever so slowly forward. A few bits and pieces of the wall were torn off, only to reveal panels. She stopped as some creepy figure walked up the panel on all fours from through the hole in the wall. "Keep going," the Ghost whispered.
She turned to the left up the metal steps, each clank building the large tension already there. She walked into a huge room of nothing but darkness. "Wait here," he said. "Fallen thrive in the darkness."
He moved away from her as she stopped and waited for him when he began to move around. A large globe of light surrounded him as he flew around looking at all of the old machines and other things. Large, red pipeage ran around the room, delivering needed energy.
"Another one of these hardened military systems," he mused with slight annoyance evident in his voice. "And a few hundred years of entropy working against me..."
She chuckled a little.
Soon, the room filled with light. One or two of the pipes were filled with creatures nearly beyond imagining climbing up against it. Machines with red lights followed the Ghost as he flew back to her quickly. "They're after us! Follow me!" He rushed past her to a grated door that was slowly lifting up.
"Here," he yelled as the door lifted more to reveal a gun. "I found a rifle! Grab it!" She heard a sizzle behind her and slam after she ran through to see the metal grate had fallen down behind her. The machines on the other side saw the grate and flew off around the corner. She turned around and quickly grabbed the rifle. It was large, black and had an unusual feeling to it. She didn't exactly know how to use it, but knew how to handle a gun anyways. She looked around it a little, feeling all the sides. She found the trigger and the magazine in the rifle and walked quickly ahead. She looked at the scope, rectangular and cracked, a red dot in the center.
"I hope you know how to use that thing..." he said.
"So do I..." she muttered to herself as she turned a corner. "What's with all of these corners?"
"I don't know," he said. "It's a really old wall, let's just get through it."
"This is a wall?" she said with disbelief as another creature from earlier bolted around the corner ahead of her.
"Yes," he replied. "The Last City on Earth is behind it."
"Last City?" she asked. "Earth? What kind of places are those?"
"Oh dear," he said. "I've seemed to have revived a Type-7."
"Type-7?" she asked. "What is that?"
"A revived Guardian who has no memories and is from the Forgotten Era."
"Forgotten Era?"
"The Era before Earth," he specified. She turned the corner the creature bolted around earlier to reveal three of them. She quickly shot them as they aimed their weapons for her, but they never got a shot off as their heads exploded into smoke. "A thousand years before 'Recreation' by God, was another Era he tried to make, only for them to accidentally destroy each other in an attempt to defeat an impossible enemy."
"Grimm," she replied instinctively. "And about God, we really did believe in Him. We just didn't really speak of Him much. He only thought of us as a byproduct."
"A byproduct?"
"Yes," she said. "He said that we were the byproduct of another race he had created and we were the only ones who were still good. So he moved us to a Single-Planet solar system."
"Oh yeah, this was the only planet here once until God created more planets. That's only the few bits and pieces we've learned. There are actually three others like you." She killed a few more of the creatures in a rusty room before heading forward a little further.
"Type-7s?" she asked. "What are their names?"
"They remain anonymous due to their uneasiness in a world they do not know, but their Fireteam name is Juniper. They said they're waiting for one more member. But..." he started with another sentence. "Speaking of names, do you know yours?"
"Finally you ask," she said with an exasperated sigh. "It's Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos."
"Uh..." he started. "What, like Pyrrha for Pyrrhic and Nikos for Victory?"
"I get the Pyrrhic bit, but not the Victory."
"Nikos was derived from the goddess Nike in Roman myths. Her name meant Victory."
"Oh..."
All of a sudden, a volley of memories flooded into her mind. Grimm, Remnant, Beacon, Ozpin, Goodwitch, Port, Oobleck, White Fang, Nora, Lie, Ruby, Blake, Weiss, Yang and...
"Jaune..." Pyrrha muttered.
"What?" he asked.
"N-nothing!" she stuttered as she shot another enemy in the face. "W-what are these things' statistics?" she changed the subject in an attempt to keep his name obscured from her Ghost.
"Dregs are the lowest class of Fallen," he said. "Their weapons are surgically attached to their grunts if they refuse to fight for them. Vandals, second class Fallen, are those who join voluntarily. They're harder to kill, and are usually the leaders of small groups." She shot a Vandal in the head and smoke lifted from it.
"Captains are the real obnoxious ones," he furthered his explanation with a tint of annoyance in his voice from the mention of Captains. "Third class. Although rare, these guys are really, really annoying. They have shields and are capable of killing multiple Guardians before dying. They hold some of the strongest weapons they have built. We're still in the dark about their weapons' source, though."
She ran across a bridge during the load of information to be brought to a large, chest-like...machine...thing. "A loot cache," he said with mirth. "Let's get the loot and move on!"
She knelt down opened the chest to reveal glowing, cube-like figures that seemed to be transparent. They had a hollow vibe to it with a blue orb in the center. "What are these?" she picked one up.
"Glimmer," he said. "They were once used during the Technological Revolution Era to power a lot of things. Now, they're just used as currency." They disappeared from her hand with the same sizzle he'd used before disappearing.
"What the-"
"Don't worry. We have Archive Space nowadays. They hold our items in Closed-Space."
"I thought Closed-Space was impossible!" she yelled as she picked up a few magazines and placed them on her newfound vest she never knew was there. Her upper chest had metal over a strange fabric that held tightly against her figure.
"It was theorized as possible a hundred years ago," he simply said. "Come on," he urged. "Let's go."
She picked up her weapon and moved up. "Any more annoying baddies I should know about?"
"Well, there are Archons, but we haven't seen them in a few decades, so we think they're extinct."
"That's what we thought when Death Stalkers disappeared. An hour later, the guy who thought that was killed by one."
"What's a Death Stalker?" he asked as she killed enemies in a large concrete/metal mix-and-match room.
"A large scorpion so-to-speak."
"Ah," he said.
She finally killed the last one with a punch to its seeming head. A large blast of electricity completely made it fly away slowly before disappearing with a sizzle.
"So, you're a Titan, Offensive Subclass."
"What?" she asked as she walked through the doorless concrete frame into a tube-like area with moss all around. A slowly spinning fan rested behind a large grate before a lit tube.
"There are three classes, each with their respective subclasses."
"Enlighten me," she said.
"Titans are more or less the heavies," he explained. "They can mow down hundreds of Forces of Darkness at a time."
"Their two subclasses are Offensive and Defensive," he furthered said explanation. "Offensive gives you the ability to use Arc Light to slam a hammerfist down and blow up a large area, electricity following in its wake. Defensive gives you the ability to use Arc Light as a domed shield, which blocks any attack for a short time."
"Arc..." she muttered. He heard it, but let it pass. She walked through an overgrown corridor and to the left to a small, grassy field before buildings erected afterwards. Further back was a small bunker with a concrete walls on it. Behind the entire scenery were three large towers with huge spheres hanging vertically on them. It was dark out, and the night only made her want to sleep.
"Welcome to The Divide as well call it," he said.
"Okay..."
"Ahead is an old Cosmodrome," he said. "There's gotta be something we can fly out of here..." he muttered.
"Fly?" Pyrrha asked with a chuckle. "What, with like a ship, or what?"
"Yes," he replied bluntly.
"Oh..." She took a few steps forward as the ground shook, forcing her to stop and look around. The shaking stopped and a large, red rift fill the sky to her left. Soon, a large ship flew through as it disappeared, making two of the large towers with three spheres on it fall.
"Fallen ships?!" he yelled as a huge metal carcass flew over them, three smaller ones following in its wake. "So close to the surface?!"
She grimaced. If that wasn't supposed to be there, then what the Dust was going on?!
A huge wave wafted over and nearly made her stumble as her eyesight blurred for a moment. If that was a shockwave, it was very slow!
One of the smaller ships flew over to the front of the bunker as she raced forward to see another large field like the one before. It allowed Fallen units to fall to the ground before flying off again. Seven Dregs and two Vandals. In the center was a large, spider-like machine with a cannon on top, destroyed and useless.
She easily mowed through them just as easily as her Ghost made it sound from his explanation of Titans.
"Ugh, another building?"
"I scanned it earlier," he said. "Should have an old ship in it."
As she entered, two Dregs and machines flew on over. She shot them down.
"What were those red machines?"
"Shanks," he replied. "They're annoying if you don't notice them."
"Are there any types of harder versions of them I should be worried about?"
"Reavers," he said. "They're harder than your average Fallen. Oh! Don't forget about the Elders. They're veterans."
"Okay..." she said quietly as she moved forward into rooms with old hardware. She didn't understand any of them. Even some of the rooms had gaping holes in them from sheer stubbornness from the structure of the building trying to stay intact.
"What about the other two classes?" she asked trying to pass the boredom.
"Hunters," he answered. "They're not ones to actually go head on in a fight sometimes and usually infiltrate and sneak more often."
"Their two classes are Bladedancer and Gunslinger," he furthered the explanation. "Bladedancer gives you the ability to supercharge your weapons as well as a knife they use in melee combat and deal a lot of damage. Gunslinger gives you the ability to create a Golden Gun that only has three bullets but deals a lot of damage like Bladedancer."
"And Warlocks," he continued. "They're kind of a mixture of Titans and Hunters."
"Their two classes are Sunsinger and Voidwalker," he explained further nonetheless. "Sunsinger gives you the ability to deal more damage with grenades. Voidwalker gives you the ability to launch a blue orb that increases damage with the cost of their defense for a short time."
She finally moved into a large room with a hanging ship after his explanation, with Dregs and Vandals all over it. Just underneath it was a back-turned larger Fallen creature, with a blue glint around it.
"That's a Fallen Captain," he said. "Reaver as well..."
"I used to say YOLO," she said.
"What? That 'You Only Live Once' crap?"
"Yup, I guess not today..."
"Just kill the damn Captain and move on."
"Understood," Pyrrha replied mirthfully with a light chuckle as she stood up from behind her cover and shot it clear in the back of the head and he lurched forward from the impact, its shields glimmered for a second.
"You knocked down his shields a lot!" her Ghost said. "Keep doing it!"
She took aim and fired again, and the glint around him disappeared quickly. The Dregs and Vandals scurried off as the Captain turned around, angry out of its mind. He roared at them with a short lunge in rage.
"Keep shooting!" She fired again and again as the blue pulses around her converged on her. She ignored the impact as it seemed to soften on her, not causing too much pain, but pressure nonetheless. It fired at her, only for her to dodge and continue her slow advance. The Captain launched at her with a long dagger and tried to hit her.
She only grabbed its arm with a smirk before disarming it quickly and stabbing it in the chest. It struggled for a moment as she twisted the knife. The volley of pulses seemed to slow to a stop as they saw their Captain fall. Its four arms slumped to the side and she pushed it off the dagger with mirth and stashed the weapon in the back of her belt. She looked around to the others, weapon lowered, waiting for one to make a move. They scurried off quickly.
"Show off..." her Ghost murmured as it sizzled into existence once against and flew to the ship.
"Whatever," she replied with a wry smile from behind the helmet she discovered earlier. The cleanliness on this suit is unmatched!
"It's been here a while," her Ghost said as it flew around and used a beam of blue light to scan it. "Hasn't made a jump in centuries."
At least I'm not a one of a kind, she thought. Then again, there are those four other Class-4s out there. Or was it three?
"We're lucky the Fallen hadn't completely picked it clean."
The Dustdamned thing was so old-looking. Rust gleaming over the entire double-engined machine!
"Will it fly?" Pyrrha asked.
Her Ghost turned to her after a moment. "I can make it work."
It flew towards the machine once more and sizzled in blue, disappearing into it.
Oh, she thought. That's what that sizzling was.
Soon, the machine came alive, patterns along borders across the machine glowed blue around its figure. Its engines roared in appreciation of its reactivation as gears and other things turned within. The cords holding it up were no longer taut as it floated up into a leveled position.
The cords disconnected with sparks, the ground underneath began kicking up dirt and dust as it blew it around.
"Okay," he yelled from within. "It may not break orbit, but it just might get us into the City!"
"Now...about that Transmat-"
He was cut off by roar in the hole inside the wall from behind them. Two Vandals emerged from the dark, dank hole. And one huge mother-
"Get in!" her Ghost yelled as she sizzled away and into the ship, just as the large creature escaped the confines of it. The Vandals fired as the ship lifted from the tarp of the build, soon turning around and flying off. The creature looked up with a gun draped over its back, planning revenge from the ship it had claimed not only two minutes ago.
Just above, that no one noticed, was a figure with a cloak covering him, a gun over his shoulder and knife in his left hand. He looked up to the sky as it flew away.
"Finally," he said. "...you big slowpoke...making us wait a year." He turned heel and walked away before jumping off.
"You better be right about her this time, Ricky...or I'll kill whatever idiot you messed up picking."
"What is your name?" Pyrrha asked as the Ghost flew her across plains and snowy mountains. Electrified storms and all.
"Me?" her Ghost asked. "Ricky."
"Okay, Ricky. Just wondering since I was the only one here with a known name."
"Heh," Ricky said. "Us Ghosts aren't usually named."
"Named?" she asked as the ship flew threw a thunderstorm. "Does that mean...you had another Guardian?"
"Yes," he said with sorrow. "Unfortunately, he was killed by another Guardian..."
"Atrocious..." she said with anger.
"Oh," he said. "It wasn't really for all that bad a reason. It was an accident in the Crucible..." he lied.
"The Crucible? What's that?
"It's like an arena for Guardians who get bored of killing Forces of Darkness. It kinda looses their gears, if you know what I mean."
"We used to have Tournaments," Pyrrha said. "Is it like a Tournament?"
"Well, we do sometimes gamble on particular players. Like Fireteam Juniper."
"I see..." she said. "Will I get a chance to join them because I'm a Type-7 like them?"
"Maybe," he said. He was looking for her after all, he thought.
"So what do we do when we get to this City place?" Pyrrha broke him out of thought. She's a real handful for him compared to the ones he mistakenly presumed was her beforehand.
"We get you to the Vanguard Commander. He'll give us a mission to go on, but we may want to kick that Archon's ass from earlier so he doesn't come looking for us."
"That was an Archon?" she asked. "I thought it was an oversized Captain of sorts."
"That would make Archons all the bigger," Ricky replied. "Better to not give them ideas. Some people actually tried to make their own Fallen..." he informed with embarrassment in memory.
"What happened?"
"The creator nearly died."
She deadpanned. "W-wow..."
"Yeah, had the Fallen found out, we'd be screwed."
The ship began to rumble a bit through the heavier rainstorms. Electricity zapped through the machines around them. Pyrrha was sitting in a leather seat at the front, turned around and talking to Ricky when this happened. She quickly turned around as the ship's engines stopped rumbling its usual rumble.
"What happened?!" she yelled.
"The shock from the lightning shorted out the autopilot! You have to fly it manually!"
"I don't know how to fly!" she yelled back at him as she frantically searched for the controls. "Where's the Dustdamned joystick thingamajig?!"
"We don't fly with them anymore! We fly with holographic controls! Hit the red button on your left!"
She looked to the right at a glowing red button. "The left one!"
She turned around to see the button and quickly pressed it. Two handlebars came out and above. The smooth tops glowed a bright blue as it launched up two medium-sized spheres, about as large as both of her clenched fists together.
"Put your hands in the orbs and move your hands around to stabilize us!"
She did as she was told and she stuck her hands in quickly, she moved her hands around and the ship's engines roared to life once again, leveling the ship in a bad area.
"Face your fingers down to fly forward. And remember! Not the entire hand!"
She dipped her fingers down and the ship lurched forward. She moved her hands left and right and the ship complied by weaving around left and right respectively. "Phew..." Ricky sighed, moving around in front of her and laying on the dashboard. "You're...you're a quick...learner..." he said between pants.
"How do you even get tired."
"We don't..." he ended with an exasperated sigh. "We get...scared though..."
"What the Dust is this place?" she said. Ricky got up once more and looked out the cockpit window.
"Here we are..." he said. "The Last City on Earth. The only place the Traveler can still protect."
"The Traveler?" she asked as the large sphere came into view, the Tower in front of it looked tiny compared to it.
"The large sphere in the middle," said Ricky. "That's him."
"Cool..." Pyrrha muttered as she reeled her hands back to slow down. "Do we go there?" she asked, gesturing with her head to the Tower, just barely jutting out of the mountainside.
"Yes," he said. "Hangar A-17," he said scanning a part of the dashboard. "This is Ghost Ricklash-34, over?"
There was a few moments of silence underneath the sound of static before a voice came out. "Ghost Ricklash-34, we read you, over."
"I have revived the Type-7. We request Hangar A-17, over."
"Authorized, over." The machine turned off, giving her room to speak.
"The?"
"I meant 'a,'" he said. He almost stuttered! "You guys are rare, so we're used to saying 'the' when we're talking about a Type-7."
"Ah," she replied. She banked around after passing the front of the tower to reveal a large platform, other Guardians running around looking for something. She thought some type of vendors. She flew into the bay marked Hangar A-17 and slowly landed down with caution. The handlebar things soon retracted, turning off the blue globes her hands were in. She left her hands there a second before getting up. She picked up her weapon and sizzled out of the ship.
She was now on a metal floor. She'd have to get used to that sizzle!
"Hello," a female voice called. Pyrrha looked up from her feet. "My name is Amanda Holiday, the Shipwright. Welcome to the Tower!"
"Hello!" Pyrrha replied. "My name is Pyrrha Nikos. A...uh...Type-7?" she tried to say with confidence, only ending in a question.
"Don't worry," Amanda assured. "The other three did the same thing. Stuttering and trying to call themselves a Type-7. Me being a Type-2 and all was hard to cope with."
"Okay," she replied slowly, not wanting to further the subject.
She walked around Pyrrha and touched the ship from underneath. "An Arcadia! I've never seen these before! They're so old!"
Pyrrha turned around. "Is that...bad?"
"NO!" Amanda yelled. "These things are practically legend from the Seventh Galactic War!"
"Told you," said Ricky as he sizzled at her side. "Centuries."
"I don't know anything," Pyrrha said.
"I know," he replied.
"You should head over to the Speaker," Amanda said. "I'll repair this baby for free!" She scurried off to find some tools.
"Well then," Ricky said. "Let's go."
"Right!" Pyrrha yelled.
-= *End of Chapter One* =-
How was it? Review please!
Don't kill me if it was bad, PLEASE!