Wow.

100 favorites. I can't even name 100 people. Thank you readers.

Also:

Wow.

100k words. I can't even imagine reading that many words. Sorry readers.

Would you like to know what the exact 100kth word is in this fic (including author's notes)?

It's: 'it'


Today was the dance.

Markus had met with Ozpin days ago, and after visiting a floor of the tower that could only be accessed if you had a key, he had chosen a lovely dark navy suit. Ozpin had kept quiet about the favor he wanted in return. Nothing much else happened that day. Or the following. Or the following.

Today was the beginning of phase three of Operation: Vytal.

Phase three was as follows: enjoy life cuz it's all goin down real soon. Markus was very well equipped to enjoy life. This phase, he definitely will not fail.

Markus stood right outside RWBY's dorm, with Ozpin's blue suit on. He thought he looked nice. But he always thought he looked nice.

It was approaching night, and the dance was starting in less than fifteen minutes, last he checked. It should also be noted that the last time he checked was more than fifteen minutes ago.

He wanted to walk Ruby to the dance. This was absolutely not necessary—and really, no one did this—but Markus just really wanted to. To enjoy life. And, boy, did Ruby take her sweet, sweet, time. He's been standing here for what felt like thirty minutes and she hasn't even said 'Hi,' through the door. He knew she was there, because she would peek out every so often just to see if he's still standing there. Shockingly, the answer was always yes.

Anyway, Markus got sick of this real fast. Ruby peeked one last time before he moved in and tore the door open ruthlessly.

This is how he got into this current mess.

Markus and Ruby walked down the hallway towards the ballroom. She was wearing her dress and heels. Problem was, in them, she looked absolutely miserable. Almost as if she was held at gunpoint (really, she wasn't). Things were awkward and silent, and in the silence Markus's blood boiled. This was supposed to be his day. To enjoy life.

The reason for her attitude was no mystery, however. Weiss had filled her head with horror stories about what she had just brought upon herself by saying 'O-okay…?'.

He did not talk to any of his friends since that day. No, it was far too dangerous to even consider—instead, he spied on them, like any normal person would. During lunch, he took a seat a distance away from them and watched. He remembered that day vividly. Weiss had her hands up and was very animatedly telling Ruby something.

Ruby's face would go pale every so often, matching the times when Weiss's hands would conjure up an image of a blade to her neck or gun to her head. According to Weiss, after the dance was over, Markus would hide in the shadows and when she was alone he would tear her in half and drink her blood (he may have been exaggerating here).

Markus had no plans to tear Ruby in half. He did, however, want to tear Weiss in half. He'd have to see about that blood-drinking part. Perhaps drinking her blood would grant him her abilities.

So, considering the circumstances, it seemed like a very appropriate time to bring out a secret weapon that's been cooking in his mind for months. Something that would bring great joy to himself and Ruby and really improve the mood. There was no way it wouldn't work.

After scratching himself behind the ears, "Hey, Ruby," he said.

She looked back. The poor girl looked like she was about to cry. Markus swore he would get revenge on Weiss for both his own sake and hers, one day.

He so gently tapped her shoulder. "Race you there."

Immediately, like a clap of the hands, he had disappeared from view. Ruby's bangs were blown by a small breeze as she turned to track a shadow flying down the hallway. Then, it hit her: wait, he's fast, and that she was about to lose!

Ruby wanted to cry. This was too much. Not only was he going to rip her in half and drink her blood, but he wanted to shame her beforehand by ruining her perfect racing record. Weiss also mentioned something like this.

This could not happen. Ruby's face hardened again. Getting ripped in half—whatever, if it happens it happens—but ruining her record? Nuh-uh. This would not do.

"No!"

And she was off. Faster than she'd ever gone in the halls before, she blasted right towards the shadow. Soon enough, those hallways got flooded with rose petals and screaming, because Markus was terrified of the mad Ruby Rose constantly bearing down on him. He even made some wrong turns on purpose, to test Ruby's intent. Even into the incorrect direction, she would be right behind him.

No, she wasn't racing towards the dance. She was going right for him. This was more terrifying than he thought it would be.

Then, after a horrific twenty seconds, Ruby had arrived at the dance. She landed gracefully, before her ankles twisted thanks to those annoying heels.

After recovering, she turned around and put her hands on her hips. She had won, and it felt so good that she had to smile. He was confident; surely he thought that he would win. What must his face look like now, she wondered.

And then, a moment later, Markus rounded the corner. He was sweating a waterfall and wasn't going fast at all, really. In fact, he was limping.

He came close, and when Ruby noticed his state she allowed him to lean on her slightly.

"I won." She said.

Markus swallowed and took a breath. "Yes… yes, you did."

"You're fast."

"Yes… yes, I am."

It was unfair. While Ruby relied on semblance energy (aura?) to speed along, he was stuck using his own stamina. He ran out quickly, because he does cardio never. Maybe he pushed himself a little too far, but Ruby seemed to brighten up—Markus felt a little better.

She let him slump against the wall. He slid down to sit on the ground, and she did as well. In the seconds after, there was only silence and Markus's heavy breathing. After he got a little bit less dizzy, he looked up again. He saw Ruby still here, sitting beside him. She seemed to enjoy his agony, even if just a little, and even if there was no real evidence for that claim.

"What are you... still doing here?" He asked.

"Huh?" Ruby blinked, as if this was an odd question, "I was waiting for you to get better."

"Why?"

"Why?" Ruby blinked again. An even stranger question. "Because… that's what you want? To walk in with me? To dance?"

"Dance with you…?" Markus stared at her. Then, his head slumped down, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling. Oh, he could imagine it now. It would be awful.

"No… I wouldn't dance with you. You're too…" he tried to think of a word, "...short. It would be awkward. And you don't even know how to."

"You… don't want to?" Her eyebrows were knit some. This was wrong. Weiss was very adamant that it would be exactly what he wanted. It then occurred to her that maybe he really did want to tear her in half and drink her blood. "Wh-what do you want, then!?"

Markus rubbed his head, after some effort. That was a very good question. "I want… the self-satisfaction from the fact that I asked you out?"

The more he thought about it, the more he liked that answer.

"Satisfaction…" Ruby's wariness went down visibly. She looked over. "That's kinda weird, Markus."

"I guess it is."

Finally, Ruby stood up. When in front of him, she spoke, "Are you really going to be okay? You look tired."

He was tired. He was very tired. "I'll be fine. Just… let me take a nap."

"A nap?" Ruby checked her scroll from some invisible pocket. "The whole thing's over in just an hour. What if you miss it?"

Markus smiled back. "You'll wake me, won't you?"

She did not reply, but she did stare at him like she really was looking at some weirdo. "Well… okay, if you say so. See you… uh, later, Markus!"

And she was gone. Left into the room on his right, the same room the dance was held. Must have been excited to see her friends, Markus thought.

He did not think too much more. Only a second had passed before Markus was out cold. He wouldn't need to rest too long, because after all the practice he's had, Markus has become rather skilled at the art of sleeping. Ten minutes would be all he needed to regenerate enough energy to be able to handle the dance, before he went to sleep for real that night.

And ten minutes was all it took.

But in those ten minutes, a certain girl passed by on her way into the dance. She was not with anyone, and wasn't actually planning to be there, but her friends were and eventually they persuaded her to show.

Her name will not be detailed; perhaps her parents had forgotten to give her one.

Before she had entered the room, though, she had come across a young blue-haired boy slumped against the wall. For some curious reason, that boy had truly piqued her interest. Maybe it was his face, which was of peculiar origin; from some place she could not guess. Or maybe it was his hair, which must have looked great had it been combed and not greased down by sweat. Maybe, even, it was his suit, which looked quite expensive and new, and in her opinion, matched the rest of the boy very well.

Whichever the case, she did not have the time to think very much on him. Her friends were waiting on her, and she had very many things to talk about.

But as she passed, she couldn't help but to wonder. It made sense in her head, the way he was slouched, how he was not responsive, or how his skin was all red and sweated.

She had wondered, of course, how this boy's heart had been broken. Rejected dance, perhaps? Or was it the fact that he came alone? Maybe, even, it could have been that he was allergic to the type of punch they served.

She felt bad. Maybe she should shake his shoulders and invite him in. See how his eyes would light up with joy, or gratitude, or adoration.

Suddenly, it had occurred to her: if she played her cards right, this boy, who she didn't know, who she had never even seen before, could have been completely in the palm of her hand. Even if for just an hour, or a day, or a week, she would be in control.

Then, she had passed by and entered the room. Like they had came, those thoughts were gone. She had no reason to continue thinking about him—her friends were waiting for her.

And, the boy was left outside.

-Break-

Under an abandoned city that was both near and far from the city of Vale, one could see members of the White Fang buzzing about as if they were actually functional members of society. Some held boxes, some held toolboxes, and some held objects that were definitely bombs. In the midst of the commotion was a train, at least forty compartments long.

And Roman was here, who held nothing.

"DJ! Are one to twenty done yet!? It's been a full day!" He yelled up the side of a train car.

After a moment, a hooded and masked head poked out from above. "Uh, sir, we're almost done."

"Oh? Almost done?" Roman spread his arms wide open. "Well, why didn't you just say so? Let's just have all the bombs almost explode, then!"

Dog Johnson looked back for a moment, nodded, then turned back to his boss. "We're done."

"Done? That fast?" Roman looked around. He didn't expect that. "Well, ah, let's take five, then."

DJ and the gang enjoyed a nice picnic on top of the car while Roman wandered around aimlessly. There really wasn't much to do when he wasn't yelling at minorities. He had his orders, and they had theirs. There was no reception here, so that meant he had no access to anything new.

Neo had disappeared wordlessly (really, this goes without saying) a few hours ago. No idea where she could have gone. Maybe to terrorize the children at ice cream joints, like she always loved to do. But there were no ice cream joints around here.

Roman fell onto an old single seat sofa. Some poor sap must have dropped it as he tried to escape this awful city, decades ago. There were likely more bugs on it than there were humans on Remnant, but he didn't worry about it much. Aura generally nullified bug bites— it was really one of the best parts of it. There were a few species that evolved to get around it, with some kind of special serration to their mandibles, but those are the kinds of species you could only find in places like Menagerie.

Roman reached into his coat. He could always practice magic tricks; train sleight of hand a little more. Always a handy skill.

But in the middle of shuffling his lucky deck of cards, a triplet of people approached. Two White Fang members and one who was decidedly not. The White Fang-er on the right said, "We caught someone. Says he knows you."

Roman didn't turn to look, instead keeping his eyes on the cards. "Tell him I don't do autographs."

Then, the odd one out spoke. "Hey, boss. It's been a while."

Roman paused. He recognized this voice. This was… "Numb… nuts?"

Sure enough, Sykes, in all of his statue-like stillness, was standing there. Roman finally looked and quickly stuffed his cards away.

"You two! Scram! I want to talk to him... personally."

The two did, after scratching their heads a bit.

"So," Roman rose from his seat, "look who came crawling back. Couldn't quite make it out there without me, huh?"

Sykes crossed his arms. "I did a mission for our boss. Flew up North."

"Oh?" Romans eyebrows jumped. "Promotion, huh? Really moving up in the world, aren't you?" He then lowered his voice to more of a whisper and leaned in close. "Say, I've gotta ask, how's the pay up there? Been making the big ones?"

Sykes opened his mouth, but Roman interrupted again.

"Oh, wait! That's right! How could I forget?" Roman leaned on Sykes's shoulder like he was an old friend. "We don't get paid!"

Roman burst out laughing.

He's been very lonely.

-Break-

Markus had a dream, like usual. But then he woke up. His eyes opened again, and he stood up before he could feel like going back to sleep. The watch on his wrist (it came with the suit) told him the time.

Perfect. Exactly ten minutes had passed. He really was getting better at this.

Markus saw no other reason to procrastinate, so he walked right into the room with the dance. The thought of going back and taking a shower to bring his hair back to pristine condition wandered in, but there wasn't enough time.

Right after signing his name on the sheet, he navigated past the booth and found himself in some lonely corner of the room. Some music could be heard, but Markus disliked this genre. The lighting was mostly dark, and the only bright lights were those on or above the dance floor—the dance floor that was astoundingly empty.

Markus had never once been to a high school prom, but suddenly, it felt like he had. The whole thing wasn't particularly uninteresting, but if you had come with no real aim (like himself), there really wasn't much to do.

Ozpin was standing around nearby. As far as Markus could tell he wasn't doing anything, but that really meant nothing. Markus slid over beside him. "Cool dance."

"Ah, Mr. Quinn." Ozpin didn't turn at all. He stared right ahead at something unknown, and sipped from his mug. "I was wondering when you'd show."

"Yeah, me too." Markus rolled his shoulders a few times. "I've gotta ask, these suits, are they designed for combat, or something?"

He ran in it and sweat a ton in it, but no one could tell. The fabric was still dry as a bone and he felt no moisture inside. Aside from that, the suit was incredibly nonrestrictive and he felt no stiffness at all while he ran. It was ridiculously comfortable, though, it did not come with the feeling of security that he got from his own coat. It felt too light to be bulletproof. He had caught himself looking over his shoulder every so often.

"For combat?" Ozpin continued to not look at him, "I suppose you could say that, yes. They are designed for all purposes. Combat, cooking, even scuba diving. Quite amazing, aren't they?"

"Scuba diving?" Yeah, that is amazing. Markus adjusted the collar, but, "Can you sleep in them?" They sure felt free enough.

Ozpin sipped from his mug. Answering that would reveal too much. "By the way, Mr. Quinn, you are rather close with Ruby Rose, no?"

"Ruby?" Markus wore a curious expression. There wasn't much else to do other than wonder. "Yeah, we're friends, sure."

"She has been acting strangely for the last couple days. Less… energetic than usual." Finally, Ozpin turned to look at Markus, "I was planning on speaking to her myself, today, but it seems she has gotten better. Do you know what happened?"

So, he was staring at Ruby, then. He had been looking where Ozpin was and had narrowed it down to Ruby, some other girl that he had never seen before, and the curtain behind them. All three were equally likely. "Yeah. That? That's because I had asked her out here and she said yes."

Ozpin heard, and looked at Ruby. Then, he looked back at Markus. After that, he turned away and drank from his mug. "Really, now," he said, but it was mostly directed into his mug.

It was to a point that Markus could not hear. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. It seems I was concerned over nothing." Ozpin turned around and walked away. Goodbyes were unnecessary. They always were.

Markus wasn't sure when he had left, but when he looked back Ozpin was gone. Now he was standing alone in the room, looking lost. He glanced around for someone he knew that he could stick to or somewhere to go. There was a nearby folding chair out of the way of anybody.

After grabbing a cup of punch, he slipped into that same chair. At this moment, anything other than those two objects was none of his business. The lights and people in front of him slowly blurred and turned into primitive shapes and colors, as he began to think. Think, of course, because there wasn't anything else to do. All his objectives have been achieved, and wandering around aimlessly was a waste of time.

He wouldn't be able to sit and relax like this for long. Soon enough, the tournament would begin and he doubted something calm like this would ever happen after that. The fall of Beacon was inevitable, wasn't it?

Well, no. Of course it wasn't. If he wanted to, he could stand up right now, grab someone's gun, and shoot Cinder right in the back of the head. She won't die, and he definitely won't win the fight when her aura takes the hit and she ends up enraged, but it would put a wrench in her plans. He'd be arrested, definitely, but perhaps he could swap a few words with Ozpin before he goes. Then, it all really would come to an end. Beacon would turn out alright, and maybe even he'd be released from prison as some hero. Good would have triumphed over evil, this once. Right?

And then… what?

Markus drank down half of his punch in one shot.

There was absolutely a 'right' and a 'wrong'—or a 'good' and a 'bad'—when it came to the future. There was the way things would go, and there was literally any other way. If Sykes were to tell him about this, he would probably call it 'The Order of All Things'. Sykes has never once said that to him, or to anyone, ever, but it sounded like something he would say—with flowery language and all the capital letters. It brought some limited comfort to Markus's mind that he could guess what Sykes was like.

This future Markus knew well, at least for the next year or two. He saw it right here, on Remnant, on the screen, and he's seeing it again in real time. He's also seen what happens when it is not followed. Nora had smashed in his skull with her hammer, he recalled. That moment had hurt. Oh, he had felt paralyzing agony like nothing before, but at that same moment it had felt so, so good.

Later, he realized it wasn't that he enjoyed pain. No, he really didn't. In that moment, he felt included. There was a distinction that even a fool could make. Him, and them. Everything was built around it. Nine students, split into two teams of four, right? Then who was the odd one out? Out of everyone, who didn't have a real reason to be here?

That question wasn't even worth thinking about; but, at that moment, even if just for one one-hundredth of a second, he had forgotten all the answers.

But, yes, those days were so sweet. Every day after was lived to its fullest, until he got knocked out by severe head trauma again (this time, by Ruby). After meeting that pretty doctor, he was discharged. He looked well, but he didn't feel well. That whole time, since he woke up, he had felt a strange tightening on his heart and a pit in his stomach. When he walked out into the hallway, it got worse.

As he looked down the hallway, he could see the bright sun shine through windows at the end of the hall. Then, he felt a petrifying terror at everything around him. Like the ground would open up and swallow him whole, and that there was nothing he could do about it. Markus was not an idiot; he could pinpoint anything he felt to a reason, most of the time. He certainly did this time—that immobilizing fear, that terror, that dread, he knew it's source.

It was, as he looked down the halls of Beacon, because he no longer had any clue what was going on. Neither Nora smashing his skull in nor Ruby breaking his nose should have happened. But they did. And, who's to say it would end there?

These things don't happen for no reason. At least, severe head injuries from two of his friends certainly don't. It must have been, he figured, that he was sticking his nose too far in their business, and he got punished for it. It was the Order. It had to be. Nora, bless her soul, seems to have just completely forgotten all about it, and Ruby never knew. It was a warning shot. A very almost-lethal warning shot.

And, then, what if some bad guy catches him in their sights? What if, instead, some bad guy causes him severe head trauma? He really would be alone, then. Would Ruby protect him?

No, of course not! She barely knew the first thing about him! Why would she stick her neck out for him? Not to mention, she wasn't supposed to. He wasn't even supposed to exist.

He got to watch her from afar, and that was 'good.'

So, after that day he kept far away from them. The tightness in his heart went, and he didn't feel that terror any longer. The days became so sweet again.

Of course, that was just a made up explanation. But that was it, right? Or was he just crazy? Paranoid?

There is, obviously, so much more going on than he knows. The fact that Sykes exists proves it.

Markus leaned back and downed the rest of his drink.

In his ample alone time, he's been thinking and discovering a lot about himself. He's even read a few books about self-discovery. From that, and after some deeply spiritual meditation, he's realized that he really didn't enjoy fighting that much.

Of course, when he came here it was the only thing he thought about. What else could a boy want? Transported to a world where physical strength and ability stood above all. He could train and become super powerful, but this time with a legitimate reason behind it. He could strut about, taking no shit from anyone. He could, and he certainly did.

He was much stronger now than he was on Earth, no doubt about it. But he didn't train to get it. No, he was given strength and power, all of it, for nothing. He cheated.

That must have been the reason, he thought. He didn't sacrifice anything for this fighting ability, so it's no wonder he didn't feel like himself when he used it; there was no part of him in it.

Or, maybe, the problem was that he has barely ever fought a battle. The only real fight he had was against Pyrrha, and that was it. Perhaps if he just gets off his ass and battles more, he could find enjoyment in it. Maybe he should approach his friends and be that guy who challenges them all the time (I swear I'll win this time!).

Well, that just felt even more unlike himself. He was no warmonger. Then, perhaps he could sneak out and fight Grimm at night. A hero would do that, wouldn't they?

That was a good idea. He should try that once before he goes.

Markus downed the rest of his drink, but there was none left. Instead, he tossed the cup in a direction.

And there's Sykes and Blue. Oh, sometimes he forgets that they are also a massive force he has to consider. Those times tend to be much nicer than usual.

Sykes had sent him here, but why? Markus refuses to believe that everything in this life was only random chance. It was impossible. Sykes had some power in so many different things that there was no way he didn't have a hand in it. Was he here to protect something? Then why would he send him here, too? Sykes had to have some purpose here. Markus didn't know what he'd do if that wasn't the case.

And what did Blue want with him? Did he just come here to brag about his cool powers? It couldn't be. Did Blue want to bring him along on his adventures throughout the universe? That didn't sound too bad. Blue is a nice guy. But he never mentioned anything like that, did he?

There was Fate, too. He can't say he really knows what it is. He'd like to imagine that Fate was similar to The Order, but that was just to make himself feel like he really knows what's going on. Sykes spoke about it with big words and seemed to value it greatly, and Blue didn't speak about it because there was always something else to talk about. So, then, what was it?

Sykes explained some to him, he felt, but he didn't remember that much. Those days way back then are all foggy. He should ask Blue about it. But would he answer? Are they keeping him in the dark on purpose?

There was only one thing he knew for sure, when it came to those two: he must not provoke Sykes. The same goes for Blue, but that's probably much easier.

But… what did he want?

Markus lifted his hand to drink, but he had already run out of punch and didn't even have a cup. He stared, confused, before giving up and leaning his head back.

Cheaters never prosper; or, at least, Markus didn't.

Oh, woe was Markus. There was so much going on, and he knew so little of it. A lot of what he knew he had only just made up. It felt like he could do nothing, and so that's exactly what he did.

And then, his deep thinking session over, he blinked a few times and returned to reality. Reality welcomed him back with utter silence.

"Uh," he looked left, and right, and left again. There was no one around, and the only thing on the dance floor were small crumbs of food and empty drink cups. The music was off, and the lights were even more off. Only the chandelier in the middle of the room was on, in some low power mode that only provided enough light to find an exit.

Markus stood up and checked the time. The dance was over, and everyone had gone to sleep.

When it finally sunk in, Markus threw his arms around in anger and spat out a multitude of curses. Did he really just sit there and think for an hour!? A full hour!?

He wanted to dance! He wanted to ask someone tall, and he really wanted to enjoy it! Now, he can't!

Markus grabbed both sides of his head. "Shit!" This was not how phase three should turn out. Thinking about his life circumstances was the polar opposite of enjoying life.

Superheated bursts of air came out of his nose—much like a raging bull's—before he stomped away to 318 where he could scream, mope, cry, and eventually fall asleep.

Of course, he did not notice the small paper tucked haphazardly into his breast pocket.


I'm feeling nostalgic. Let's talk about this story.

Well, first of all, the plot of this story as it was two years ago and as it is now are basically opposites. There are a few similarities here and there, but a lot of iteration occurred.

Is that bad writing?

Oh, absolutely. Very jarring reading it all at once. But don't you worry. I don't mind. I cried when I reread this entire fic back in November, and no not from joy.

Haha, well, it's alright. I'm enjoying writing this fic today, and I guess that's what's important.

Also, on another note, thanks to all reviewers.

I do enjoy getting reviews. I don't care what you have to say, really. As long as there's a reader out there who can read my crap and develop a nuanced opinion on it, well, I'm satisfied. No matter what it is.

Anyway, if you're reading to this point, thanks for sticking around.

I'll be right here.

P.S this chapter was supposed to go out yesterday but I read it over and wanted to make an edit

P.P.S so I copy pasted a scene from the next chapter and replaced it with a scene from this one

P.P.P.S it's kinda funny how that worked