Chapter 1

How do I always manage to get myself into these messes? Don thought as he flew like an artillery shell through the air. I really should have gone full armor, this wouldn't be a problem if I had.

'Full armor would negate the possibility of injury in these circumstances,' a familiar feminine voice commented in Don's mind as the trees rushed by below seeming to be reaching out to for him.

Too late to do anything about it now, got anything useful to say? Don replied.

'If you can lower your velocity to below ninety seven kph your boots and legging will be able to absorb the impact,' the voice replied.

He shifted his body from head first to feet first as he began to pass through the branches of the trees. This is going to hurt, he thought as he grabbed a large passing branch. The branch began to bend considerably before finally snapping and producing a powerful stinging sensation in Don's hands.

But the branch served its purpose and slowed Don down. He hit a larger branch with his feet, and had a momentary sensation of something slipping in his right ankle, which didn't bend as far as the first had but slowed him down even more. In fact the second branch slowed Don down so much that rather than continue his ballistic arc he fell straight to the forest floor.

Crouching he absorbed most of the landing. Jarring but I've been through worse, he thought as memories swam behind his eyes. Eggs, Don shook his head, fucking deathtraps.

'Indeed,' the voice added not indicating which thought she was replying to.

He stood up from his crouch and began to survey his surroundings. North, need to go north, a growl interrupted Don's train of thought.

Turning around he found himself looking at a large black wolf like creature standing on its hind legs with red eyes and what looked suspiciously like a skull on its head. He looked at the creature as he plucked two silver cylinders from his thigh plates.

'This creature is likely the Grimm classification Beowolf.'

That you Anastasia for your pertinent analysis, Don thought sarcastically.

"You wouldn't happen to know which way's north would you?" Don asked the Beowolf as it lunged towards him. As soon as the beast began to move the world seemed to slow down, and everything around Don sharpened. He easily stepped out of the way of the Beowolf's lunge as he flipped a switch on the cylinders in his hands.

'You will have the edge in terms of speed and strength, is that pertinent enough for you,' she replied with a degree of smug.

Yes, very. Now focus on helping me, he replied.

The ends of the cylinders jumped out revealing themselves to be a pair of twenty two inch long batons, electric arcs jumping up and down their length. Don brought one of the batons up into the Beowolf's jaw and felt the creature's skull snap loose from its spine.

The batons were not all the kit Don had. He was wearing think armored boots, equally thick thigh plates, gloves, and forearm plates. His armor was steel colored with light green highlights. The armor pieces had the same construction and appearance, making it look like he was only wearing part of an armor suit. He had two eight inch combat knives on each of his forearm plates and his thigh plates, Don also had another weapon slung across his back.

As the first Beowolf fell to the ground Don became aware of a second one behind him. He twisted around using the momentum from his first strike to slam his other baton into the chest of the second Beowolf. The creature collapsed from both the strike and because of the large shock the weapon had delivered.

Normally the voltage on these weapons would be nonlethal, but Don had made some modifications.

No sooner had the second wolf fallen to the ground, its heart beating its last, then two more came at Don from opposite sides. Don stood still, as though he were enjoying his victory oblivious to the encroaching danger. At the last second he dropped down while striking out with his weapons. His attack doubled over both of his opponents, and he finished them off with simultaneous strikes to the head.

Despite this display yet more of the creatures poured between the trees at the young warrior. Soon Don lost himself to the dance of battle, dodge, parry, strike, feint, feint, strike, strike.

Don cracked open the skull of the Beowolf in front of him before twisting out of the way of the one charging at his back and bringing his weapon down on its retreating cranium.

Instinctively Don swung his free weapon to his left anticipating another attack, and for a moment experienced sheer terror as the weapon met nothing but air. Don immediately looked to his right where he expected one of the creatures to be, but found nothing there.

Don looked over the battle field and to find that he was the only one standing, at the same time Anastasia informed him, 'All hostiles eliminated.'

All of the Beowolves were on the ground, either dead or dying. Don looked at his weapons and then at the clearing full of defeated opponents, certainly humbled you. Don retracted one of the batons and slipped it back into his thigh plate, while walking up to the wounded wolves with the other to finish them off with a quick crack to the head.

It wasn't any sense of mercy that he finished off his opponents, it was pure practicality. A dead Beowolf can't howl, call, or whatever, to alert others of its ilk.

With the last of his opponents finished off Don considered his path forward. He could move quickly north toward his objective and probably get there in under an hour, but he would likely draw plenty of unwanted attention that way. He had dispatched this lot easily enough and he doubted any other of the "Grimm" would be different.

'My databases indicate that some species of Grimm are more dangerous than others. Beowolves are one of the weaker species. I would recommend stealth.'

His training and experience told him that the she had a point. Caution was likely the better part of valor in this case. Stealth it is then, Don thought as he watched his limbs turn transparent.

Half an hour later Don realized Anastasia was right, as he encountered particularly large Grimm apparently called a Deathstalker. Damn thing is the size of a fucking Scorpion, Don thought as he watched the giant arthropod walk past. As he carefully slipped past it he thought, wouldn't want to take that on with anything less than a rocket launcher or a SL, or a MAC. Don smiled at the latter.

It took him almost two and a half hours to reach the 'temple' at his stealthy pace. Don walked up to a small boulder near the edge of a ledge overlooking the temple. When Don first laid eyes on the temple he silently commented, looks like Stonehenge.

'While the dimensions, among other aspects, do not match I concur.'

But the crumbling ruin was not what drew his attention. Instead Don's attention was drawn by another of Remnant's 'unique' local wildlife. In between him and his objective was a 250 foot long snake half of which was black the other half of which was white. But perhaps most disturbingly both ends had a head!

Fucking Christ! Don thought as he studied the creature. Motherfucker could swallow an ATV whole.

'That would be a King Taijitu.'

Thank you Any, Don thought sincerely, Tactical analysis?

'The King Taijitu's is hide thick and resistant to both abrasion and blunt force trauma, though I have no data about its resistance to electrical shocks I would theorize that its size would provide a natural defense in this case.'

Recommendations?

'Just one.'

Don knew what she was suggesting and, after cycling through and discarding every other battle plan he could think of, agreed. He wasn't happy about it. It felt like a waste, but he didn't have anything else with him that could bring the Taijitu down quick and easy.

Don broke invisibility and unslung the long black weapon from his back. He lowered the bipod near the front of the weapon and stabilized it on the rock he was crouched behind. Don carefully positioned his left hand on the weapon's forward grip as he slid the mag in and cycled the bolt. Finally he positioned his right hand and peered through the scope.

For a second the crosshairs didn't appear as the image shifted then stabilized with the crosshairs dead in the center. In the upper right corner of the scope the range, targeting angle, wind speed, and gravitational acceleration, but Don didn't need any of that.

'Targeting solution complete. Crosshairs adjusted for compensation of all variables, target range 867 meters.'

Thank you Anastasia, Don thought. He began to study his target, that snake wasn't moving. The white head was lying still on the ground while the black head was looking around. Don considered which head to target first. He decided to target the unmoving white head first because whichever one he shot first the second one would become an unpredictable target.

Don braced his body against the rocks as he placed his finger on the trigger. He took a deep cleansing breath followed by a second and then he forcibly exhaled all of the air from his lungs, holding his breath. Placing the crosshair on the Taijitu's head Don felt for his pulse in his finger.

Timing the shot between heartbeats Don lightly squeezed the trigger. It took only the slightest movement to fire the weapon.

A loud crack echoed through the forest and just under six hundred milliseconds later the 14.5 millimeter APFSDS round punched through the giants snake's right eye exiting it left, trailing brain matter and bits of skull.

Shocked the black head began to twist around looking for the source of the attack. Playing a hunch Don aimed straight at the snake's neck and fired. Just as he fired the second round the sound of the first shot reached the King Taijitu and it turned to look in the direction of the sound, allowing the second round to strike the front of its skull. The high velocity round ripped out the back of the creature's head ripping apart its spinal connection and spraying the liquefied remains of its brain far and wide.

Something was bound to have heard that Don thought as he leapt over the rock formation in front of him while slinging his weapon back across his back. It took him just over a minute the run the near kilometer between his firing position and the temple. As he approached Don cast a side glance at the Taijatu to ensure it was dead, before entering cover behind one of the columns.

Don's finger twitched for a weapon he didn't have as he drew his batons, rounded the column, and surveyed his surroundings. There were no additional hostiles that he could see, so Don dropped his batons back in there holsters.

'Curious.'

What? Don looked around and spotted what his mental companion had.

"Chess?" He said out loud

'Confirmed classic chess non-pawn pieces.'

"So this is what the old bastard was on about," Don muttered to himself before gravitating to the most powerful piece on the board, the white queen. But just as he was about to pick it up he decided to instead go for his favorite piece.

Don walked over and picked up a white knight, "First piece I move, and the only piece that can attack the black queen without exposing itself."

No sooner had Don placed the chess piece in the equipment storage bag on his hip then a loud screech echoed over the clearing. Don turned around to see a Death Stalker standing at the location he had shot from.

Must have been attracted by my shots, he reasoned. It took every bit of self control he had not to run, and instead return to stealth and move away slowly. But after thirty seconds of moving slowly Anastasia's voice cut into his thoughts.

'Death Stalker altering course, stealth ineffective, recommend immediate withdraw!'

I agree, Don thought as he abandoned stealth and began running forward at over forty kph, not bothering to confirm Anastasia's observation.

The Death Stalker had the edge in both stride length and number of legs, a normal human could never outrun it. Fortunately Don was neither normal or human.

'Estimate Death Stalker maximum velocity to be 38.8 kph, current velocity sufficient for escape and evasion.'

At this Don glanced over his shoulder to see the Death Stalker was indeed losing ground. The beast let out an angry screech upon apparently realizing the same thing.

Don settled himself in for a good run back to the beacon cliffs, which at his current clip would take just over twenty minutes.

A couple minutes in he had just begun to enjoy the run when Anastasia announced, 'Warning airborne contact detected!'

Don glanced up a head and spotted a large black bird clear the tree line in front of him. Aside from the animals increasable size the feature on it that attracted Don's eye the most was its four red eyes.

'Mature Nevermore! Evade left!'

Without thinking Don threw his body in a hard roll to the left, before coming back up on to his feet and running for the cover of the tree line. As he rolled a line of arrow like feathers buried themselves in the ground where he had been just seconds ago.

'Nevermore maximum air speed in excesses of 65 kph, chance of evasion low. Beacon cliffs provide no overhead cover.'

We need to fight in other words.

'Affirmative.'

Can you get me a firing solution the next time it makes another low pass? Don thought as he unslung his rife and kneeled in a classic rifleman firing position.

'Calculating,' Don heard as the image in his scope began to shift. The Nevermoe began to turn as Don watched. 'Firing solution complete, recommend holding fire for five seconds until opponent is optimal in the attack corridor.'

Roger that, Don thought as his counted off the seconds in his head, putting the crosshairs on the Nevermore. Before he had had more time to prepare for his shot, but he didn't have that same opportunity with this shot. Don was an expert marksman and with Anastasia's help he felt sure he would hit his target.

He placed the crosshairs on the bird's head and when his mental count hit zero he fired. The high velocity round punched a hole in the front of the Nevermore's skull before bisecting its cranial vault and blowing out a large piece of its spine.

The giant bird pitched forward crashing into the trees. But Don had no time to savor his victory, as this engagement had cost him ground against the Death Stalker.

Wheeling around he sighted up on the Death Stalker less than a hundred meters away. "Zero, zero, zero," he called telling Anastasia to zero the rifle's scope for a flat trajectory.

Don placed the crosshairs in the dead center of the anthropoid's many eyes, knowing he had only one shot left.

One shot, he thought as he squeezed the trigger. The harsh crack echoed through the forest as the round tore through the Death Stalker's head and internal organs before tearing out it's back. The Death Stalker crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut digging a furrow into the ground as it came to a stop.

"One hell of a shot," Don said to himself as he put his rifle back up, and began to jog to the cliffs.

It took Don almost a half hour to make it back to the cliffs. When he reached them he pulled out a metallic rod and flipped a switch at its base. The tip of the rod began to heat and would allow the rod to literally melt into the rock formation to secure itself.

Don paid out rope twirled the rod and threw it high and far at the cliff. He could tell it hit near the top, right where he was aiming. After testing the line he began to climb. He had no idea how long the climb took, he wasn't paying attention to that, but when he reached the end of his line he was still ten meters from the top.

Gripping some good foot and hand holds Don turned the rod back on, pulled it from the cliff and stowed it in his pack. Intensifying his grip on the side of the cliff Don launched himself ten meters up the cliff face and grabbed the top hauling himself the rest of the way up.

When he reached the top of the cliff Ozpin and Goodwitch were both waiting on him. He walked up to the headmaster and wordlessly handed the chess piece to him.

"Good work, I see you retrieved the white knight," Ozpin said as he handed Don a scroll. "One of the purposes of these pieces is to determine which team you are on the white knight will put you with…"

"No," Don interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Ozpin relied

"I said no," Don stated again, "no team I work alone."

"You do not make decisions here," Goodwitch stated coldly, "your expectance to Beacon is a privilege, one which can be revoked. We set the rules and you will follow them."

"I work alone," Don replied evenly.

As Goodwitch opened her mouth to continue the debate Ozpin held up his hand. Addressing Don, "Given you evident skill I think we can accommodate you, however there are some test and courses were you will have to work with a team to succeed. In those cases you will be working with the team your relic assigned you to, team RWBY. Your scroll has the relevant data about the four girls on the team, and should you change your mind you can join them."

"Don't count on it," Don stated evenly. In his head he thought, Four girls! As if I don't already have enough females.

I heard that.

Exactly.

"What happened to your foot," Goodwitch suddenly said.

"What."

"You are favoring your left foot."

As Goodwitch said that Don felt a twinge of pain in right ankle. "Must have twisted it," he said as he remove his right boot. But as he removed the under armor the black and blue swelling told a different story.

"That's more than a twist your ankle is broken," Ozpin stated.

At Ozpin's statement and realizing the injury for himself Don became more and more aware of just how badly his ankle was hurting. When did this happen, Don thought and then remembered the slipping sensation when he was landing. I must have broken my ankle when I landed.

Seeing the look on his face Goodwitch pointedly asked, "How did you break your ankle and not realize it, and how did you make it here on a broken ankle?"

"I don't know." Don lied.