The city of Vale.
A safe haven of humanity against the Creatures of Grimm.
But how safe could such a place truly be against those who profit on chaos and discord?
The liars? The theives? The rapists and muderers? Those who could stand to gain from another war?
How could humanity stand together with so many factors against them in the first place?
All flames, even the brightest, will eventually flicker and die in he harsh winds of night.
And just as there is the guarantee of darkness during night, there is the guarantee of shining light from the day
For all the darkness, light will always be there to illuminate the world.
Dawn will always come.
"Come on, boys. The bosses will have our heads if we don't hurry up," the unnamed grunt urged his fellow henchmen.
The "Henchmen" were all dressed similarly, with black suits, red ties and sunglasses, and basic black top hats, other than the occasional grunt with facial hair it was difficult to tell them appart. In fact, their current employer had assigned them numbers to keep up with all of them. Whether this was their boss being lazy, or just a jackass, they were unsure.
"Yeah, yeah," Number 3 griped. "You're just a lookout, 'Number 8,' so quit complainin' or get over here and help."
"No thanks," Number 8 denied. "The Dust is all yours to take care of."
"Lazy bastard," was the concensus of the group.
"Damn right," Number 8 smugly confirmed leaning against the wall of the dock warehouse they were raiding. "I get to relax and and watch you guys do all th-" He was cut off.
"Eh? What was that 8?" 3 turned back to where their sentry was lazing around at. "8?.. 8!?" His shouts attracted the attention of the rest of the guards. Weapons were drawn as soon as they realized he was gone. Their calls of "What the hell?" and "Where did he go?" rang out as they tried to located their MIA. That was.. until his body impacted against one of the large, steel containers they were looting.
All eyes were on the unconscious henchman until the sound of someone landing on pavement turned their attention back to the spot 8 was originally standing. They were greeted by the sight of a cloaked person just staring at them, their eyes hidden by the black and red bamboo hat they wore, which featured red cloth strips acting as a curtain to further protect the wearers identity. The unidentified person wore a black full-body robe with a thin red stripe down the middle. An orange sash adorned the waist and black and red combat boots fit snug on their feet, with what was visible of his hands having red combat gloves with metal plates on the back of them.
However the hired help barely noticed anything other than his cloak and hat, those had all the effect they were supposed to on the henchmen. Fear.
For the person in front of them was none other than a member of Daybreak, or a very good impersonator. Though that didn't seem to do anything to quell the theives.
Daybreak was to be feared by people of their certain profession. And for good reason. Daybreak was an independent faction that opposed crime and terrorism, and actively sought peace between all the factions of Remnant. They began to pop up after the fall of the original White Fang, whose main goal was peacefully acquiring equal rights for the Faunus race after the Great War. After the old, peace loving Fang was gone and a new commander had taken over, the White Fang became increasingly aggressive, committing more and more crimes in the name of "peace and justice" until they outright started to murder innocents to get their points across. They weren't afraid to use deadly force, and were subsequently labeled a terrorist sect not long after.
Members of Daybreak were few and far between, however, with only eight people being active agents. The members identities were always hidden by the bulky garments. In addition, their iconic hats they bore never came off in public, making it impossible to determine who they were. The only system of identification that set each member apart was the color of the sash they wore on their waists. Red, White, Blue, Orange, Purple, Brown, Green and Black being the only way to tell each other apart. Also the codenames they addressed each other on occasion:
Red, known as Dreamer. White, known as Angel. Blue, Rain. Orange, Fox. Purple, Archer. Brown, Raccoon. Green, Knight. And finally, Black, known as Samurai.
Based on the sash of the member in front of the black suited guards, they were dealing with Fox, who was notorious for his extreme close combat techniques and the unpredictable nature of his fighting style. It was also worth noting that he had an unparalleled control over his Aura, being seen shaping it and manipulating it outside of his body many times.
"Yo!" Fox's boisterous greeting snapped the henchmen out of their thoughts, cutting through all the tension that had been growing. "How's it going, guys?"
The assorted hired help couldn't help but deadpan. Fox was know for his brash and carefree attitude, only getting serious when the situation called for it, but hearing and seeing it put into action in a shipping yard full of enemies was slightly off-putting.
"Er... Good.. I guess..?" The grunt designated by their current employer as Number 1 answered. "Uh... How 'bout you?"
"Oh you know, just taking a stroll through this beautiful night when I happened across all this," Fox answered casually, gesturing to the criminal activity all around him while taking small steps forward, looking around before focusing his gaze on 1. "Y'know, the usual vigilante stuff."
"...Okaaay..?"
"Mmhhhm." His carefree smile never leaving his face.
"Sooo.. any chance we won't be in jail by morning..?"
"Probably not." Fists gripped tighter on the assorted weapons the group of theives had armed themselves with.
"Right."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"Well as far as I'm concerned, it's all thirty of us against only you!" A brave (read; stupid) henchmen, designated as Number 23, shouted out. This seemed to bolster some of the others, but most of them were still cowed by the smile that never faltered on Fox's face.
"Mah, mah.. is it really just me though..?" Fox's somewhat lazy response trailed off, letting their minds all come to the same thought.
Daybreak members always traveled in pairs.
At that moment several henchmen not standing near any Dust crates were hit from behind with black projectiles, which exploded on impact, sending the large group of menial laborers scattering. Several orders rung out but we're quickly drowned out by yelps and screams of surprise, and pain in the case of the henchmen hit from behind.
Behind the mass of scampering thugs, another figure appeared from behind the cover they had taken while Fox had distracted the rather dim group. Wearing the same get up as Fox, minus the orange sash as the newcomers was purple, ID'ing him as Archer, the partners cut a rather imposing presence.
As Archer had the thugs' attention, Fox shot forward dispatching an enemy with a well placed drop kick to the face, he quickly planted his hands on the ground and twisted his legs to catch the falling thug and toss him into another.
By then the hired muscle had figured out what had happened and had split their forces to focus on the Daybreak members.
Archer dodged behind a Dust container as automatic fire rained down on him, pinning him behind the bulky steel box. Archer grit his teeth as bullets pinged off his cover. "Hey, Fox! Wanna give me a hand here," calling out in distress.
Fox, hearing his partners cries for help, smirked. "I dunno, Archer, are you sure your pride will be able to handle assistance from someone so lowly as me?" He replied as he decked another thug in the face before dodging an axe swing aiming to bisect him. As the doubled bladed instrument of war sunk into the pavement next to him, he took advantage of his opponent's vulnerable position by rolling over him. Reaching into his robes he grabbed a black rod with empty circles on each of its ends. Twirling it the rod expanded to a full size staff a little bigger than Fox's height and on its final rotation it smashed into the back of the head of the bent over thug, putting the man out of business.
"Just fucking help me!" Archer answered hotly.
"No need to get all riled up!" Fox replied as his form began glowing a golden-orange color. Two giant clawed arms shot out of his back and with ease he swept aside all the henchmen firing on the container Archer was hiding behind.
Hearing the staccato stop, Archer leapt over the steel crate, weapon in hand. The aforementioned weapon was a staff, like his partners, with a crescent-like piece at each end. Drawn tight between both crescents were two strengthened strings, which he drew back. As the bow-staff was drawn taut by Archer several black arrows formed. Without hesitation the arrows were sent screaming at the biggest concentration of thugs. Each exploded with concussive force as they met their marks, sending henchmen flying away.
Fox whistled appreciatively as about ten of the hired help were disposed of.
Looks like I gotta do something badass to keep up, Fox thought as his Aura arms slammed down on the concrete ground, sending most of the assortment of enemies stumbling. Swinging his staff at one of the thugs unfortunate to have stumbled too close, one of the sun like hollow circles snapped open before closing abruptly around the poor thug's neck.
"Sorry 'bout this," Fox apologized semi-sincerely, "but you should live though this... Maybe."
The red and black clad criminal had enough sense to grab onto the staff that had constricted around his neck, because the next thing he knew, he was spinning.
Twirling the staff, and by proxy, the poor man on the other end, Fox used the thug to bludgeon and sweep away a few of the man's comrades, before unlocking the device around said criminals neck. The result was a man shaped bowling ball plowing through the pins that were his allies.
"Not as badass, but still pretty cool," Fox admitted to himself.
"Blech."
"Oh good, you lived." Also he made the man puke on some of his friends.
Bonus points.
Meanwhile, Archer had taken out another two thugs and was in the middle of sweeping the legs out from under a third. The sunglasses wearing criminal slammed face first into the cruel, unforgiving concrete, putting him down for the rest of the fight.
"RAAGHHH!"
A battle cry sounded out behind him as he blocked three red blades with Yin. The three men managed to force the purple sashed warrior to his knees. Just as the would-be Dust theives thought they had a chance, Fox sent another man flying into one of them with a twirl of his peculiar staff.
Seeing his chance, Archer pulled back, disengaging from his opponents' blades. As the henchmen stumbled foward, Archer undid the strings on his bow-staff with speed and precision that took years to accomplish and pulled his weapon apart at the middle, revealing twin swords that had been sheathed in each other.
Archer quickly re-engaged the men, taking advantage of their off balanced stances and put each one out of the fight with a single precise slash each. The other two on the ground attempted to get up, but quickly were met with the displeasure of having Yins' crescent end pieces smash into their skulls.
Noting that he had run out of minions to thrash, Archer stood content to watch Fox deal with the remaining four still standing.
Which he did with a few smashing twirls of his staff, named Yang.
The partners stood at ease, looking over the small battlefield they had made, they both could hear police sirens in the background, still decently far but, getting closer by the minute.
"Well... That was a little boring..." Fox sighed.
"What did you expect from a bunch of peons, idiot?" Came the expected response.
"I dunno, I was hoping to get a crack at their boss!" Fox exclaimed, a little frustrated with the no-show of what he was sure would have been a fun fight. "Who even lets their minions operate alone!? That's some bad villainry if you ask me!"
"Good thing no one asked you then," Archer's calm rebuttal came.
"Come on, you're not even a little dissapointed that their leader was a no show?"
"...Maybe a little."
"Ha! See!? A case of bad villainry."
"That's not even a real word, dumbass."
"Don't care, that's how bad it is."
Archer just sighed as he began walking to the exit gate of the shipping yard. "Come on, let's get out of here before the cops get here."
"Gunna make myself a big bowl of ramen when we get back!" Fox cheered as he strode to catch up to his partner.
A fully showered, casually dressed Archer sighed as he sat down on the nice, black leather couch in the living room of their hideout. He could still hear Fox, working on making his 'Victory Ramen' as he would call it, in the kitchen.
"Last chance, Sasuke! You want some or not!?" Fox called from the kitchen.
The now named Sasuke grunted. He was hungry, but he didn't want to cook anything tonight. "You know what I like in my ramen, Naruto."
"Right!" Naruto replied enthusiastically, "One tomato ramen with extra beef! Comin' right up!"
Sasuke felt himself sigh once more, he would never be able to understand how Naruto could remain so energetic and cheerful. It was somewhat annoying if he was being honest with himself, but that's who Naruto was.
Sasuke's onyx eyes roamed over the decent sized coffee table in front of him. More importantly, they stopped on two letters on the table, addressed to the two of them. One of the other Daybreak members must have brought in the mail when they stopped by while the two of them were out.
Each letter was made out to one 'Mr. Sasuke Uchiha' and the other to one 'Mr. Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze.' It was the sender that made him pause before grinning.
'Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy'
"Hey, 'Ruto, get in here..."