Welcome back to the people who were gracious enough to leave a follow and new viewers alike!

I don't have a lot of things to say in the beginning AN, so I'll wait to infodump you in the ending AN.

Enjoy!

2 years later.

Being reborn is, to put it lightly, a difficult and confusing experience. Then again, Cobalt wasn't sure if he was reborn in the first place.

That was his name now. Cobalt. Cobalt Nemea. He liked the name. He liked his parents for giving him a name.

Or were they always his parents, and he just didn't know it? Or was his name always Cobalt, and the memories of a name that he could barely remember were only insane, broken thoughts brought on by distress?

Then again, he was pretty certain that a child his age, only about 2, wasn't supposed to be able to have an existential crisis.

His existential crisis did not detract from the fact that he was having an amazing time playing with the building blocks in front of him. Cobalt was inside of a closed, childproof pen. His mother, worrying, but doting as she was, placed him there while she and his dad were both out meeting an associate. Cobalt didn't mind. He liked the solitude. Not to say that he didn't like his parents, no, he loved them. They were the most important people in his life. When he was with them, he was able to forget the thoughts that kept his genius-level toddler brain awake at night.

If that were to happen, at least, he could cry and they would come running to the crib and sooth him.

Cobalt likes the affection they show him the most.

But right at that moment, he was building a toy sword, in the exact same way the man on the T.V. across the room was.

He would need it to take down Narshlog, the Doom Eater, who was currently sitting on a throne made of building blocks, ready to take over the world of child-penland. Cobalt would not let that happen, though. He'd die before he let Narshlog do that. He readied the building block sword he made, looking at the man on the T.V. doing battle with another man with two dagger-pistols, watching as he swung and stabbed the sword he carried with such ease.

He missed this. He hadn't been able to act like this since…

Since when? He'd always been here, he reminded himself.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, it'd become true.

He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of clanging blades from the T.V., imagining it was him doing battle with an adversary. Wielding a sword, ready to pierce through the evil that threatened to corrupt the world itself with its… well, its evil. He opened his eyes, glaring at the toy Beowol- Narshlog the Doom Eater, and charged. He ran as fast as his unsteady, toddler legs were able to carry him, sword of building blocks held high, ready to strike down the evil before him and save the world of child-penland.

He would be a hero.

A part of him, deep down, doubted that.

"-I know, I know, I'm just saying, this one pays really well! Won't have to go on another mission for weeks!" A loud, boisterous voice boomed through the house from the front door.

"Yes, I understand that Leon. However, I think you are forgetting that we have a child now. A child that I refuse to leave without a mother or father again." Came a much softer, though still forceful and strong voice, afterwards.

His parents had come home, just as he was about to free the world of (admittedly, made up) evil. In fact, they came into the room just as he was about to land the killing blow with his slowly falling apart building block sword.

In other words, he was caught red-handed, mimicking fighting moves.

They both just stared at him with their yellow, slitted eyes, reminding him that they weren't exactly 'human'.

Not that he cared. He grew used to it a long time ago.

All was quiet except for the T.V.

That was, before his father let out a guffaw that might've shaken the entire house and disturbed the neighbors. He climbed over the child-proof pen and picked Cobalt up, propping him up on his shoulder.

"Ahah! Thatta boy! Already taking down Beowolves and other baddies like they're nothing, eh? You may just be as good as me one day!" He laughed.

The woman with the lion tail merely shook her head in annoyance. She was much shorter than the man currently manhandling her child, only around 5'6. With short brown hair that barely reached her shoulders, she could easily pass off as human if she closed her eyes and hid her lion tail.

Then again, most faunus were like that.

"You left the T.V. on again, you oaf." She lightly chastised the laughing mountain of a man, as she went to go turn it off. "It's a bad influence on him, I'm telling you. I will not have my son go gallivanting off to an academy just to be killed in initiation."

"Aww, c'mon, Luani! Look, you even made him sad!" Leon pointed to the frowning infant on his shoulder, who was slowly moving his head as if he was going to bury his head in Leon's mane.

"Besides," Leon continued, sitting down on a couch and watching the screen with rapt attention. "It's the Vytal Festival! You don't get to see these every day! Can't we just watch for a little while longer? Please?"

The 'cute' eyes her husband Leon was giving her were nothing. She had grown immune to them a long, long time ago.

It was the eyes of her adoptive son, his cobalt blue eyes for which he was named, burning her soul and warming her heart, that finally got to her. With the father-son pairing double-teaming her like that, her resistance was falling.

Oh no, she was falling for it.

She clenched her teeth, looking away. "I-I will not be-!"

Then her heart clenched when she saw that her baby boy, her son in all but blood, looked like he was about to cry.

Cobalt was going to be an expert manipulator later in life, she could tell.

"A-Alright, fine!" She half-shouted, sitting down next to her husband.

Her husband and son both cheered. She swore, that infant was smarter than he appeared.

"But only for one hour! That's enough for one fight, and the amount of time until 7 o'clock, when he should be going to bed! Leon!? Did you hear me!?"

Leon laughed, calming her down by petting her head. "Of course, of course! Don't worry about it! I am a man of my word, after all!"

"Oh? And how do you know that?" Luani asked, a threatening smile on her pale face.

"I married you, did I not?"

A punch to the shoulder was his answer, as well as a kiss to his cheek.

"Hmm…" Leon hummed, Cobalt still on his shoulder, staring at the screen as a new set of 8 combatants entered an arena. "I see. So that's what they are teaching them in Shade these days… That boy right there needs to swing wider, his sword is meant for sweeping slashes, not thrusts… unless his weapon has a gun barrel near the tip, in which case…"

Leon Nemea had no clue his adoptive son was taking mental notes of his ramblings.

3 years later.

He was 5 years old again. Of course, saying 'again' would be the wrong way to put it. It made it seem like he'd been a 5 year-old before, which he wasn't obviously. If he was, that would be weird. And impossible. And weird. Did he mention impossible?

He may have been getting a bit better at denying those memories, but they were still confusing. Still, he couldn't deny that he was smarter than your average 5 year old. He acted different as well, despite how much fun he was having playing around like an average 5 year old. In fact, his mother, the worrywart that she was, sent him to a child psychologist over a year ago because he had not cried at all since he was 3, which was around the time he mentally grew out of simply crying in his crib for attention.

That was a surreal experience, that day.

Fortunately, the current day for him was a lot better.

Of course, most people wouldn't consider going to the market with their father to be a very enchanting or exciting experience, but then again, Cobalt is not most people.

He had to admit that that thought was a bit more egotistical than he intended, but he rolled with it.

"So what do you think, boy?" Leon Nemea grunted, massive hand at his chin in a thinking gesture. "Should we indulge ourselves tonight or should we be prudes and follow your mother's advice of a nice, lean meal?"

Cobalt found the way his dad talked interesting, to say the least.

It wasn't the way most people talked in the farmer's market, to be sure. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"I want dat one!" Cobalt replied, pointing at a fatty cut of meat wrapped in clear wrap. Noticing a piece of bread on a shelf nearby, he quickly pointed to that one as well. "And dat one!" He added.

Leon let loose one of his trademarked guffaws. "Hahahaha! Thatta boy! Us men need these large cuts of meat, eh? Especially me, now that I think about it. Your mother worries too much, but we love her just the same, don't we?"

Cobalt nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Ah, but the bread though… Hm, I suppose it wouldn't be too bad. Carbs are good for when you need energy badly, but not for much else. Just make sure you get plenty of exercise afterwards, 'right?"

"Yessa!"

It was fun pretending to have mild speech problems. Most 5-year olds were difficult to understand, why should he be any different?

Well, he was different, but that was beside the point.

"Alright then! Take these and I'll go pay for them then. Hopefully this clerk is better than the last few… anti-faunus fools almost make me regret leaving the…"

To many, it would seem irresponsible to leave a 5 year old standing in the middle of a crowded market street. And many would be right. Leon, however, could be absent minded at times. Besides, who would want to touch a kid who was seen hanging around a massive lion faunus?

Not many. Not many at all.

However, after awhile, Cobalt didn't see his father come back. This was not unusual sometimes. Sometimes the clerk or shopkeeper or vendor would give his father a hard time for no real tangible reason.

Cobalt knew the real reason, and it disgusted him, but he could do nothing about it. At least, not right now.

Cobalt was interrupted from his musings when he heard sniffling nearby. At first, he ignored it. It wasn't his business to get involved with others, especially when his father was around. Even before he was reborn, he'd often turn a blind eye to others. It wasn't his business, what right did he have to encroach upon others life that?

However, when the sniffling turned into outright crying, either coming from a girl or a young boy, his curiosity got the better of him. Surely, it couldn't hurt to at least look at what was happening, right?

Many things could go wrong, but Cobalt chose to ignore them.

His search took him down the street a way, and into a space in between buildings. Crouched there, just a little way away from where he stood, there was a boy. He looked slightly girly with long, blond hair, and green, bloodshot eyes. Tears streamed down his pale face in droves.

Every instinct, every part of who he was, told him to just move on. To ignore this kid in the alleyway between buildings. To leave this crying boy to his fate.

Another part of him, the subconscious part, told him to ignore these feelings, and help him. He looked to be starving, what was one small piece of bread? If he wanted to be more than what he was before, than this, this was an excellent place to start.

Be a hero, even if it's just for this kid. Live an interesting life, not a boring one. Not like before.

He approached the boy. When he was within a few feet, the blond-haired boy looked up wearily, green eyes wide and scared.

Cobalt struggled to get a piece off the bread, what with his other hand holding a piece of wrapped fresh meat, but he managed. He held it to the crying boy.

"Here." He said, in a clear voice without the juvenile speech impediment. "Don't be afraid, have it."

The green-eyed boy looked at him and then the offered piece of bread a few times, unbelieving of what was in front of him. After a few seconds, though, he snatched the bread out of Cobalt's hands and devoured it. He scarfed it down within seconds.

"You're very hungry, huh?" Cobalt observed. "What's your name?"

The green-eyed boy looked around a little bit nervously, as if he was checking to make sure no one else heard him. After coming to the conclusion that the coast was, indeed, clear, he scooted forward and stuttered out his name.

"A-Asher Skye."

2 years later.

Cobalt didn't like the way faunus were treated, and by extension, he was treated by being adopted by two of them. If his memory was to be believed – it wasn't, he told himself, but it had some place in this line of thought – he didn't like it before either. To hate someone over something so trivial as a pair of antlers or a tail, to hate them based only on what they are, not who they are.

To him, that was ignorance and stupidity incarnate.

Of course, this, once again, for the millionth time in his seven year-old life, brought up the fact that he had the memories and knowledge of another world.

Cobalt had long since discounted them. Disowned them. They were not his, and if they were, they were simply fragments of a bad dream he surely had a long, long time ago.

A long time ago being maybe about 2 weeks ago, of course, but then again that wouldn't make sense.

He didn't care. They weren't real. Simple as that.

Cobalt refused to touch the fact that he was obviously a lot more world-weary and smarter than almost any kid his age should be, though. Or the fact that he'd had this world-weariness and intelligence for as long as he could remember.

These were not thoughts brought up at random, however, they came about as he was playing with his best friend, Asher Skye.

More specifically, picking up fallen branches and having sword fights with them.

You know, the usual.

"It is time to face your destiny, Asher." Cobalt growled, his voice still sounding squeaky through it but they both ignored it.

"If it is my destiny to defeat you, then I shall face it with open arms! Hiyah!" Asher declared, his long, shaggy blond hair waving in the wind.

Cobalt idly wondered if Asher's parents ever took him to see a barber.

Asher charged, stick-sword held high. As soon as he was within striking distance, he swung down. However, Cobalt moved out of the way just in time, watching carefully as the stick-sword Asher wielded struck the ground. Taking this obvious opening, he thrusted with his own stick sword, intent on stabbing Asher through the chest and ending their rivalry, once and for all.

Of course, they were only playing, so Cobalt settled on stabbing him through the opening between his right arm and chest.

Asher's green eyes bulged out of their sockets as he coughed up saliva, trying to emulate coughing up blood as he stumbled back, squishing his arm to the side of his chest to keep the stick that 'stabbed' him in place.

"I-" He faked coughing. "I-I have been defeated!? Curse you, evil overlord! You may have won this battle, but you will not win the war!" He fell on the ground, crunching dozens of fallen leaves.

"Poor Asher. Have you not realized?" Cobalt knelt to Asher's level, staring him straight in the eye. "The war has already been won."

"Nooooooooo!"

Asher went limp. Dead.

Not for long, though, as at first a giggle escaped his lips. And then a small laugh. And before they both knew it, they were both laughing like madmen. Asher got back up, brushing the brown and orange fallen leaves off his admittedly somewhat dirty clothes.

Of course, they were always dirty. Cobalt learned not to ask about that after the first time.

"Oh my Gods, that was so cool you were all like 'face your destiny' and then I was like 'no you!' and then you killed me all fast and cool and stuff and it was just WOW!" Asher exclaimed. "I mean, where did you learn to move like that!? I thought I would have gotten you with that for sure! Or that you'd've blocked it and stuff and we'd have one of those cool sword fights like in those movies or Huntsmen thingies!"

Cobalt, who was nearly incapacitated with laughter, answered. "I-I just wanted to end it fast, ya know? My old man always says you shouldn't make a fight longer than it should. Just gotta wait for an opening, ya know? And then you just-" He stabbed the air with a scrunched hand. "-get 'em right where it hurts!"

Asher nodded. "Yeah, yeah. You always brag about how your parents are Huntsmen and stuff." Asher's mood became a bit more sour. "I wish my dad was as cool as yours."

Cobalt frowned. He didn't mean for it to get this way. He loved his father, but maybe acting more like the kid he was right now would do more harm then good. He wisely decided to shut his mouth. They both just stood around awkwardly for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Cobalt was about to say goodbye and go back to his house, but then he realized it might not be good to leave Asher in this state.

Instead, he decided to pick up the stick that had fallen to the ground after Asher had gotten up. "Wanna play again?"

"Asher!" A shrill voice called from a nearby house. "Get in this house right this instant!"

It would not be inaccurate to say that Asher's already pale face turned as white as a sheet of paper when he heard her.

Cobalt dropped the stick as he stared off at the house, with the bony woman standing on its filthy patio. "Guess not, huh?"

Asher chuckled nervously and humorlessly. "Guess not." He agreed. "I'll… uh… I'll see you later, Cobalt."

Even Cobalt's too-developed-for-a-seven-year-old mind could not find a solution, nor could he ignore, what would happen to Asher in that house.

He would help him, someday.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"I'll see ya later than," Cobalt said awkwardly.

Asher looked forlornly at the house. "Yeah, you too."

Asher marched to his house like it was a death camp.

The bony, shrill woman ushered him inside, and took one look at Cobalt. The animosity in her shrunken, aged eyes was not aimed at who he was, but at what he represented.

The adopted child of a faunus.

He stared at their house for a few moments, anger bubbling inside of him. He may have acted young, but he was a lot more intelligent than anyone knew. It made him more sensitive to people like Asher's parents. While they may never had said anything to him directly, he knew what they thought of him just from the glares they threw his way.

It disgusted him. It repulsed him. That somebody could be so ignorant and fearful of someone else to demonize them and not face their own stupidity.

Cobalt walked away, anger boiling away. He would find some way to get Asher out of that house. He would be damned if he did nothing.

3 years later.

"…and that's when they decided to do nothing and just sit around until the end. It was a really boring movie, Cobalt." Asher whined across from him at the lunch table.

As time had gone on, Cobalt dropped the 'rambunctious-but-intelligent child' act and began to let more of his snarky, pessimistic nature bleed into his speech and actions.

"I know that, Asher," Cobalt said, sipping from an apple juice box. "Why do you think I decided to recommend that movie to you? You and it have a lot in common."

Case in point.

"That one hurt, man." Asher sighed.

"Only hurt? I must be losing my edge."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you and your… sarcasm and crap." Asher swirled the noodles in the bowl in front of him. "You're just lucky that you got me outta that house. Else I'd punch you so hard your mom'd feel it."

"I didn't know you'd hit a woman, Asher. Should I call the police on you too?"

"Shut up, you know what I meant!" Asher groaned.

Yes, Cobalt knew what he meant.

It had taken weeks, but after that late Autumn day, Cobalt really did stop at nothing to get Asher out of that abusive house. A few failed cop calls, and even a small investigation by his dad and a few 'co-workers' later, and Asher Skye was out of that den of racism and hate. He lived with his aunt and uncle, somewhere farther away but still close enough that Asher had personally come to his house and embraced him. Now, he looked better than ever. His skin had more color to it, his hair was neatly trimmed, and his eyes almost glowed with mirth when he spoke with Cobalt.

Overall, Cobalt would say it was worth it. Even if he had to get a lecture from his mom.

The pat on the back he got from his dad was nice too.

He wouldn't have been able to make a difference like this in his past life. He'd never have the courage.

Good thing he used that as motivation to make himself into a better person, even if said past life was almost definitely fake.

"Anyways, so I was thinking, right?" Asher began excitedly.

"A rarity, I'm sure."

"Oh, shut up! You're so mouthy today! Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking that we should draw designs, you know? Like, you'll have a sword or something I guess, and then I'll have these cool knives or something that can turn into a bow, and I'll have a quiver on my back and crap like that, you know?"

"So while you get awesome daggers that can turn into a bow, I get a dinky old sword? Right, this seems completely fair." Cobalt deadpanned.

"Oh please, you can do whatever you want with a sword. What can I do with daggers? I mean, I could maybe make them into like cool pistols with the blades on the ends, but that just seems…"

"It sounds like every other idea you've had."

Asher looked at Cobalt.

Cobalt looked at Asher.

"I know what you're gonna say-"

"Done before."

"-And there we go." Asher sighed. "So yeah, you can see where I'm going with this, right? I mean, it'd be awesome, right?"

"It seems a bit… gimmicky, but it could work out, yeah." Cobalt relented.

It was important to not be an asshole all the time.

Asher beamed. "Thank you! But yeah, don't worry about the sword thing. You can literally do anything with a sword! It'd be so cool!"

Cobalt had to give Asher credit, he was thinking about it. This entire conversation came up when Asher started fanboying over Huntsmen and Huntresses, and then they got into the hypothetical situation of when they'd make their own weapons. Asher was, obviously, enamored with the idea of daggers combining into something else.

Honestly, if Cobalt had to choose, it'd actually be a sword. He wasn't sure what he'd combine it with, but he wasn't sure if he'd even be a Huntsmen, so it seemed a bit pointless to theorize about something like that.

He knew for sure that his dad would agree, but his mother? That was an entirely different beast.

He would like to be one. To be a hero. To not have to waste his life in a place he hates, doing nothing of significance. He'd already felt that once. With this opportunity, he can finally, finally be something more.

Cobalt's mind was a confusing place. Even he had trouble figuring it out sometimes.

What was even more confusing was when a third boy decided to sit next to Cobalt. A boy that towered over both of them. With slicked back orange hair and indigo colored eyes, and a smug look, Cobalt instantly labeled him under 'deserves a good punch to the face in the near future' in his categorical people book when he first met him.

Cardin Winchester, in the flesh. The biggest kid, and meanest bully, in the elementary school they were in.

"So what's going on over in this neck of the woods, lionboy?" Cardin said, his tone dripping with fake friendliness.

"Well at first we were talking about maybe finally paying your mom a visit, but then we decided that we actually had standards, unlike your father." Cobalt replied instantly.

He cringed inwardly as Asher held a hand up to his mouth to try and suppress a giggle. Cobalt had maybe let his inherent snarky nature get the better of him, especially when around this racist asshole.

A hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed painfully. Cardin was a strong 10 year-old. Cobalt was no push-over, but Cardin was inherently intimidating. Something he didn't have, being average height for his age. Cardin leaned in, his mouth next to his ear.

"You better watch yourself, animal lover. My dad has friends in high places. You ever insult my family like that again, I'll make sure your entire family is run out of town. Won't even matter that they're huntsmen, either. You'll never see Vale again." He whispered threateningly, taking food off of Cobalt's tray like it was his own.

"Oh, so you can make fun of my family with impunity, is that it?" Cobalt hissed. "One little joke is enough to get you to lose your head, is that it, Winchester?"

"Animals don't deserve respect, lionboy. And a human raised by animals? No better than an animal himself." Cardin laughed, munching on Cobalt's food.

Cardin had been like this. Exactly like this since he'd entered this school. The minute he'd found out that Cobalt had faunus parents, he'd been made his favorite target. It had been years of this. He could deal with it when he was younger. It wasn't so bad. But as Cardin himself grew older, it had been becoming increasingly more insufferable and intolerable. Cardin had been lying when he said his father had friends in high places. The person with the most authority that Cardin's father knew was a bartender. Even after he found out, Cardin didn't stop. He'd try to lord it over him no matter what.

Was it any wonder that Cobalt had had enough? Despite his intelligence being far above that of what was usual for a 10 year-old, he had also, unwittingly, had the emotions of a child as well. Especially now.

In other words, that insult was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Asher was attempting to speak with him, apparently urging him to just move away from Cardin, but Cobalt wasn't having it. Picking up his tray, he turned it over on Cardin's head, covering him in applesauce, fries, and apple slices.

The shocked look on Cardin's face, as well as the silence that filled the cafeteria they were in, was worth it. Even Asher was completely speechless. At least for the first few seconds.

"Holy crap, Cobalt." Asher murmured. "I've wanted to do that for weeks." Asher held up his hand. "High fi-" He immediately shrunk back down when Cardin stood up.

"That was a mistake, animal boy." He spat.

"You'd know all about mistakes wouldn't you, Winchester-"

A sucker punch was his answer. Cardin may not have had an aura yet, but in the world of high-tier elementary school boxing, he was the best. And considering that Cobalt hadn't activated his aura yet, the result was obvious.

The punch sent him straight to the ground, a bloody lip clear to anyone who saw.

And a lot of people saw. A small circle of kids was gathering in a circle around them.

"Is that all you got, animal? C'mon! After all that trash talk you have to be able to back it up! Or did your lion dad teach you how to play dead? Are you part possum?" Cardin mocked, walking around and kicking Cobalt in the stomach, hard. "C'mon, get up!"

Spitting out saliva from the kick to the gut, Cobalt shakily got to his feet, and threw a punch the best he could.

Which didn't amount to much since his head was still spinning, but he gave it his best shot. In fact, if it had hit, Cardin may have been reeling.

Unfortunately, he missed.

And Cardin punched him down again.

"Seriously? After all that talk and you can't do anything? This is what happens when you're raised by animals, I guess." Cardin looked around. "I mean, look at this! All that talk, all that talk? And he's passed out on the floor."

Cardin took a few steps back, looking around from random people in the crowd surrounding them. "You look like a dog. Maybe that's what they did to you? Turned you into a dog? That would be disgusting you know. Then again, you know all about disgusting. I bet you roll around in your own crap like a pig, too. Whatever. I'm done with you."

He began walking off.

Cobalt was on his hands and knees, shaking.

Not shaking with terror and hurt, though.

Shaking with rage.

He didn't know it at the time, but he'd accidentally activated his aura.

Usually, one would need to train and meditate, or have somebody who is extremely skilled in aura already, to activate their aura. Great discipline and willpower are required as well.

Cobalt may not have had a lot of discipline, but he had heaps of willpower.

He couldn't control his raging blue aura at all, but it was activated, nonetheless.

"Winchester!"

Cardin turned around.

Only to be met by a fist nearly breaking his cheekbone, and sending him hurtling into a table, taken clean out cold.

Cobalt stood there for several seconds, before collapsing. The faint blue aura around him disappearing.

In less than 8 seconds, he had used it all up.

It was enough for him.

Cobalt knew he was in trouble.

Well, in trouble with the faculty, not his father, who was currently in the principal's office.

At least, he hoped not.

He sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his legs crossed and biting into his lip in preparation for what might befall him. It had been a long, long time since anything even resembling this had happened to him. In fact, he'd go so far as to say it hadn't happened to him at all since his rebirth.

What rebirth? He's always been here. Always been here. To imply otherwise was insanity.

His dad, bushy mane and all came out after a few minutes, an indistinguishable expression on his face. That did not bode well.

"Let's go, Cobalt." He said emotionlessly.

Also not a good sign.

Without another word, Cobalt jumped off the plastic chair, and followed his dad out of the school. Not a word passed between them as they walked out, and it was another 10 minutes on the 20 minute long walk home before either of them said a word.

Cobalt was the first to break the silence.

"Dad… I'm-"

"Finally," Leon Nemea breathed out. "I was hoping you'd start the conversation first. Didn't know how else to say it." He stopped and knelt to his level. "Okay, you got at least 2 and a half weeks of detention. Not too bad, eh? Had to haggle with that shrew of a principal, but I got it. Not bad for an old lion, huh?"

Cobalt was completely flabbergasted at this response. After that awkward exchange back in the school, he was expecting more… anger?

"Uh… I thought you'd be more… angry." Cobalt stuttered out.

"Angry? Of course not! I know you, boy. You'd never start a fight unless he started it first."

Cobalt bit his lip. That wasn't entirely true…

"And I'd definitely not be angry after finding out you unlocked your aura!" Leon laughed.

Cobalt's eyes widened. "My… I unlocked my aura?"

Leon smiled. "How else do you think you knocked that punks block off into a table like that? You're strong for a 10 year-old, but not that strong! At least, not usually." Leon ruffled Cobalt's dark brown hair. "Wish you would have unlocked it in a less violent way, or with more training so you were knocked out like a light afterward, but honestly? I'm proud of you, boy! With this, you could be a Huntsman!"

There was that word again. Huntsman. A hero, basically. Someone who fought and led an interesting life, unlike the one he lived before. The word resonated with him. It was at that moment, that Cobalt made up his mind.

"Dad, I wanna be a Huntsman!"

If it was possible, Leon Nemea's smile grew wider than it had in decades.

"Absolutely not!" Luani Nemea roared, nearly shaking the house and causing Cobalt and Leon Nemea to flinch. "First, you come here after having a fight at school, and then you have the gall to tell me that you want to risk your life fighting Grimm for the rest of your life!? How did you expect this to go, Cobalt!?"

"A little bit better than this, maybe?" Cobalt squeaked.

"Don't worry boy, I got this," Leon whispered into his ear, before approaching the fuming lioness, and taking her behind closed doors. "Luani, baby-!"

"Don't you 'Luani baby' me, Leon Nemea! I'll have your hide!"

"Okay, dear. Look, I know, okay. I get it! He's our only child! But do you really think you'll be able to protect him forever. And with the way the world is now? You and I are Huntsmen as well, Luani. Someday we may never come back. I just want our boy to be able to take care of himself out there. Find a place where he can feel like he belongs, you know? And if he wants to be a Huntsman, I think we should support him and help him on that path, right? Come on, Luani, you know I'm right."

Luani Nemea's expression cracked further and further the longer Leon spoke, before it looked like she was about to burst into tears. She held onto her stomach. "I know. I know you're right Leon. It's just that… you know I couldn't… he's the only one we have! I don't want to… I don't want to lose him!"

Leon embraced Luani. The married couple stood there for several seconds, with Luani gently sobbing, before the parted.

"Listen to me, Leon. You better train him the best you can before you send him to a combat academy, you hear me? If I have to, I'll intervene as well. If my boy wants to be a Huntsman…" She grabbed Leon's hands. "We better make him the best Huntsman that ever walked on the face of Remnant."

Leon smiled. "I'm planning on it!"

Cobalt Nemea woke up the next morning to the sound of an alarm clock. This as abnormal in the fact that it was the weekend and he didn't have school.

And then he saw his dad, standing there with a practice sword and massive Warhammer in each hand, grinning toothily at him, and Cobalt remembered the declaration he made the day prior.

He couldn't help the smile that came to his face either.

Finally-!

Right, it's come to my attention that some people were either confused with what I said last time or they brought up points that I forgot to bring up.

First, shipping. When I said I would not NTR the main cast I meant to it like this: I will not pull apart two characters that are directly confirmed, in the show, to have a crush on one another. So basically, Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora are off limits. Everyone else though? Fair game.

I might've pissed a few people off with that, but what can I do?

Oh, and I've picked a pairing. What is it? Figure it out yourselves.

You'll probably have a few good hints soon, considering we meet with a few of the canon cast next chapter.

One last thing. Just because there's a few OCs here now does not mean things will turn out better. They may be powerful, but they are not invincible or infallible. I am here to make things DIFFERENT, not BETTER.

Jesus, I'm a cold bastard, aren't I?

Here's our Discord server. I'll probably be there after this is posted expressing my crippling anxiety: discord. gg/uDxVym8

Now, with that out of the way, I hope you have a Good Night!