"I'm telling you, I don't have a damn clue how I got here. Or where 'here' even is, come to think of it." The man sighed. He wore an oddly camouflaged set of clothes and brown boots. On the upper left breast was a tag with the words "U.S. Army" laid out. On his right was another tag, this one with the name "Arc." His short blond hair was open for display, as his helmet was strewn off to the side near a pile consisting of a vest, a bag, and a black rifle of some sort.
Across from him sat an oddly young looking elderly man and a very intimidating blonde woman. He could see the two-way mirror, but not through it, though he was certain there would be more spectators inside the room. "Please, as if we'd believe that." The blonde snarked, "Sir, I recommend we send him over to the proper authorities-"
"Now now, Glynda. There's no need for that. I'm sure this young man will be more willing to answer questions if he wasn't locked up with criminals." 'Glynda' scoffed, but reluctantly gave in. Her boss simply smiled at him and pushed forward a cup of - he sniffed - coffee, which he was very keen on grabbing and chugging down. But he wouldn't give them that satisfaction. These could be terrorists, for all he knew. Or worse, Russian spies.
"I'd feel more willing to answer my questions if you got me in contact with my CO." He pushed, his eyes set firm as he initiated a staring contest with the elderly man. Said man simply sighed and took a sip of his drink. "I'm afraid that isn't possible, since you've given us no clue as to even which military you're a part of." Arc balked, his blue eyes wide in disbelief. Did this man not see the big ass words on his uniform?
He grunted, scowling deeply. This man must be playing with him, he rationalized. "You're fuckin' joking," Glynda seemed surprised by his easy use of curse words, which made his attitude become immensely more smug. "This is downright loony. Everyone knows about the God damn US of A and their military. We kinda police the world, y'know." Arc rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Glynda glared in his direction while the man simply sipped from his stupid cup.
"Do you know who I am, Mr. Arc?" The blond raised an eyebrow, but shook his head negative. "My name is Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy, one of the four Huntsman schools on Remnant." The soldier felt his heart skip a beat, but pushed down his inner panic. This was just some sick joke to break him. He steeled his resolve and scowled deeper. "I don't know anything about this 'US of A' or 'US Army' nor do I know of any military policing the world other than Atlas. So either you're lying, or you're delusional."
Course, scarred hands slammed down on the table as fierce blue eyes looked threateningly into cool brown ones. Glynda tensed up, clearly prepared to defend her boss, but Arc remained still in that furious position. "I am not delusional, old man. I know for a God damn fact you're lying. Who do you work for? ISIS? Syria? Maybe Russia?" He growled out the last bit, his anger peaking as he thought more. "Cheap tactics seem to be their forte, and you excel in them just as well as they."
"Watch yourself, Mr. Arc, or I'll be forced to use force to tame that nasty anger of yours." Threatened the woman. Blue eyes snapped over to her green orbs, the two initiating a glaring contest. Ozpin merely laid down his cup and crossed his fingers, his sigh drawing the attention of them both.
"If you're truly a soldier, then you would have aura, yes?" Arc raised an eyebrow, his face morphing in confusion. He looked at Glynda and saw her staring expectedly, so he just looked back at the older man.
"... I don't understand."
"Aura. The projection of your soul-" Arc barked out a laugh, leaning back in his chair.
"Ha! That's what this shit is? Seriously? Oh yeah, let me tell you all about my aura. It's fueled by the powers of the zodiac and projects itself as a fucking dragon!" His voice was thick with sarcasm, and he idly noticed Glynda reaching down for something. "Listen bub," His voice lost the sarcasm, this time replaced with frustration. "I don't mingle in this mystical hoodoo shit. I'm a realist. I live in the real world with real things. Not some spiritual mumbo jumbo that doesn't even fucking exist."
"Mr. Arc, Aura is very real-"
"Bullshit!" He cut him off once again. "Stop shitting with me old man, I ain't playing these games. I don't know if this is some crazy cult or if I got captured by Scientologists," He raised his fist as a clear threat. "All I know is I'm very tempted to kick your ass right no-" It was he who got cut off this time, but not by words. His body glowed purple very briefly before he was flung into the wall behind him, knocking the breath out of him. He heard Ozpin shout 'Glynda!' through his coughing fit. Sliding down on his knees, he held onto his chest as he continued to cough.
Four hands helped him to his feet. Through the slight tear build-up, he saw the guilty face of Glynda and the concerned look from Ozpin. He shrugged them off, leaning back against the wall with heavy breathing. "W-What the fuck was that?!"
Glynda sighed, moving some hair behind her ear as she looked away. "That was my Semblance. I apologize for attacking you with it, I… Let my emotions get the better of me." His breathing remained heavy and erratic, his blue eyes darting over the room in shock.
"That-That was… What the hell is a Semblance? What kind of-of shit let's you fling a 100 kilogram man across a room?!" Ozpin held up his hands and walked up towards the panicking man, gently laying a hand on his shoulder while gingerly leading him back to a chair.
"A Semblance, Mr. Arc, is the truest projection of our souls. It is a direct representation of our inner selves. Ms. Goodwitch, for example, has the semblance of telekinesis, signifying her taste for control and order." The blond took deep, quick breaths. Two in, two out, over and over until his breathing was under control.
"Telekinesis? I thought that shit only existed in Sci-Fi films, or comic books…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So… All that stuff about Aura, then. It's true?" The two nodded affirmative, causing him to droop.
"We don't have that where I come from. We imagined stories with those powers, labelled them fiction. People tried to use telekinesis, but it was always proven to be a hoax. But that… Could that have been a hoax?"
"Would you like me to do it again?" He quickly shook his head, tightening his grip on the chair's underside. She merely cracked a small, almost unnoticeable, smile. Instead of flinging him across the room she lifted the mug of coffee towards him, urging him to grab it. He did. "As you can tell, it isn't fake. I can lift multiple objects at once or one very large object. It does get tiring, however, and I require my crop as a medium to sharpen my ability." The soldier looked towards Ozpin, a frown on his face.
"I'm… You mentioned something called 'Remnant' earlier. Is that the country? Is it isolated? Or is it like Atlantis?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what Atlantis is, but Remnant is no country. It's the name of the planet." He replied calmly, once again sipping from his cup. This time Arc copied him, savoring the lukewarm bitter taste. He pulled the mug away from his lips and stared into it, his eyes gauging his reflection in the brown water.
"I'm not on Earth. I'm not anywhere near Earth. I-I…" He took a deep, shuddering breath, and released it in a hysterical chuckle. "I died. I really did die. I-I remember it." He rubbed his face after setting the cup down. "Why don't they teach you how to cope with your death in Basic?" He joked to no one but himself, as no one could possibly understand anything he was going through.
Ozpin stood up, grabbing his cane as he did so, and nodded towards Glynda. "I have other matters to attend to. Glynda will keep you company in the meantime while I find a place where I can safely keep you. Do not be under any illusions, Mr. Arc, we will still consider you a danger to the safety of the students until we are sure of your intentions and background." He turned to leave, but his hand hovered over the knob when he reached the door. He turned around and looked the man right in the eyes. "Are you related to Jaune Arc, by any chance?" The blond looked immensely confused, his voice replying slowly.
"I am Jaune Arc."
Welcome to Everybody's Gotta Die Sometime, a story in which - gasp - Jaune Arc has an alternate universe duplicate. Not the most original premise, but I wanted to test it out, especially since I'm going off to Basic in July for the Army. This is more of a teaser than anything else, just to gauge reactions. I don't have a beta, so this is all me. If there are any issues - be they RWBY or Military wise, grammatical errors, or just bad ideas/bad interpretations of characters, then feel free to point them out.
I also don't have an update schedule. Yeah, I'm a busy guy, so I don't usually get to write whenever I want to. But I get a couple hours a day Mon-Fri, so I use those to the best of my ability. Just don't expect updates to be regular. They'll either be spread out or close to each other.
Chapters won't be this short either; like I said, it's just a teaser. I'll try to get them from 3k-5k on average. Keep it simple.
One last thing, then I'll shut up. No, SSG Arc will not be able to stand a chance to these guys. I see stories where an Earth soldier can take on hunters-in-training, and I automatically think it's outright wrong. Sure, soldiers are badass and very deadly in combat situations, but they lack the sheer power the RWBY-verse has. Their experience is what could make them win, not their own CQC abilities. So yes, he'll be underpowered, but not weak by any means. He's SpecOps, he'll have a strategy or two for emergencies.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Leave a comment on what you think of the story. Flames and criticism are encourage; I thrive off of negativity. Helps me get better an' shiz. I bid you adieu.