From Charban, Vale: John Raies
In the underground level of a maximum security prison, ten prison guards stood at attention. The warden had a steady hand held on the lever. A doctor stood behind him. The building around them was constructed out of reinforced cement and steel. State of the art surveillance cameras monitored each and every corner. Each and every guard was on par with a fully trained and experienced huntsman, able to shatter bones with a single strike of their weapons.
A man was led up to an elevated platform. His eyes were tightly blindfolded. Grey hair signified his age. It was matted and unkept, trailing down to his shoulders. A matching, bristly beard made him look even more haggard. John was a very large man, almost two meters tall, and was bursting with muscle.
Typically, huntsmen and huntresses had a moderately athletic physique, slim would be the word for it, but nothing remarkably impressive. After all, in virtually all cases, the physical feats of these individuals are the effect of their Aura, not their bodies' natural capability. Even when these huntsmen and huntresses train their muscles specifically, it's more for a superficial appearance than anything else.
Not this man, however. Even though a metal collar was secured around his thick neck to electrocute and sedate him at the barest detection of Aura, strong chains were placed to bind his large, almost rock-like left arm behind his back.
Why was only his left arm bound? Why not the rest of his limbs?
It was because his left arm was the only limb he had remaining. His legs from just above the knees and his right arm from the socket were ripped off by a young demon decades ago, near the ending of the Great War.
John Raies was once a renowned soldier of the Atlas military, part of a special forces unit. Just him alone was enough to turn the tide of many battles and seize numerous strongholds.
Though he fought on the side that was considered to be in the wrong, allowing the enslavement of humans solely due to minor animal characteristics, his patriotism would have been something to be revered.
But...
At the wars end, he was banished from the military and stripped of all honors. There were many incidents. Really... there's no way to sugarcoat it. He committed what was considered to be among the most despicable and heinous of all war crimes, and was given a death sentence.
The mass murder of civilians. Raies did not spare elderly grasping onto the last years of their lives, nor fathers caring for their families, nor mothers nursing newborns, not even children who would first crowd around him in curiosity without suspecting a thing. He would slaughter them in their homes or in the streets, during the day or during the night.
The bodies were left in a shape that weren't even be remotely recognizable as human.
Now... it was the day of his execution. A noose woven from steel fibers was tightened around his neck. He balanced on a cold, retractable platform while the prison guards looked on apprehensively.
Tensed and sweaty, the warden gulped as he gripped the lever that would promptly execute this criminal. He berated himself for his fear. How could he be afraid of an old man who couldn't even walk, a cripple? Yet he could never forget what he felt when John looked at each of them in the eyes during his time in prison. It was too much like a warning.
Gathering his resolve, he pulled down the lever.
John Raies was dropped three meters down. A merciless pressure started to crush his carotid artery and jugular veins. The noose continued to tighten. His body jerked uncontrollably. The rope shook and swung while he gagged out.
"Gagh."
.
.
.
"Aghkk!"
His head went limp and rolled down. His skin had taken on a sweaty red tint. When his tongue rolled out, the warden stopped passively standing and pulled out a stopwatch. He set it to thirty minutes and waited.
[Kingdom law article 37 section 4] After the execution, the accused shall remain hung for ten minutes. The doctor shall confirm the death and declare the completion of the execution.
After a tense period of waiting, where the room was completely silent, the warden finally gave his orders. "Doctor, begin the examination."
The doctor swallowed down the mucus and saliva that was accumulating in his throat and stepped forward. He was not a tall man by any standard, nor was he a short one. He stood at a decent 170 centimeters, Remnant's worldwide average for males. Climbing up the steps, standing before the prisoner's hanging body, the doctor could truly grasp an understanding of the man's figure. He was massive. Confronting him o the field of battle would be terrifying.
He followed procedure and placed the drum of his stethoscope over John's heart.
.
.
.
.
". . . . ." The doctor let out a breath he had been holding.
Thump*
The doctor let out a dry gasp. His palms became slick with sweat. His hair felt itchy. Surely not-
Thump* *Thump*
Veins throbbing, the prisoner opened his eyes wide and yelled. "Raaaghh!"
"Aaahh!" The doctor, scared for his life, stumbled back over the railing. He fell four meters down and broke his left leg which took the brunt of the fall.
The guards raised their guns and took aim at Raies, but the rope snapped. No, it didn't snap. It was cut through. The prisoner fell to the floor. Taking advantage of the impact against the ground, he managed to snap the chain binding his arm. John grabbed the doctor using the broken chain and used him as a human shield.
"Let him go! You will not leave this prison in anything else but a body bag! Just like everyone else before you!" The warden kept his gun trained on him, a heavy pistol with enough force to blast a Beowolf's head clean off.
John merely let out a small sigh, as if he was told that the dessert had run out.
"Very well, good sir..."
His accent was heavy and sophisticated, fitting yet contrasting to his appearance.
"I shall release him, as you put it." John snapped the doctors neck.
"-Wait!"
But he was too late to prevent what happened.
The prisoner ripped open one of the poor man's veins with his teeth. He stuck his hand into the forming pool of blood.
Gnashing his teeth together, the warden pulled the trigger of his firearm. "Kill him, now!"
The rest of the guards followed suit and began emptying their magazines. The sound of gunshots echoed within the chamber. After ten rounds were fired, the men shot blindly. Blood had been thrown in their eyes.
By the time they wiped the sticky liquid from their eyes, John had already disappeared. The broken remains of his inhibitor collar where scattered on the ground. The door behind them was swung wide open, and the warden was missing his key card.
Bursting out into the hallway, the warden checked both directions for any sign of which direction Raies took. There was none. He turned to his subordinates. "You five, head down left! You five, head down right! Do not let him escape!" When they chased after him, he pulled out his scroll and contacted the surveillance team. "Raies killed the doctor and escaped the room! Where is he!"
All he got back was static. Then he heard a hoarse scream.
"Shit!" He immediately rushed down the hallway towards the sound while reloading his gun. By activating his Semblance, he imbued his bullets with heat over six thousand degrees.
When he caught up to his men, they were trying to break into a room. The door was sealed tight and a force field made from energy Dust was put into place. So far, the guards had managed to crack it, but they were making slow progress. John's screaming could be heard inside.
The sounds of bones breaking and flesh tearing apart filled the halls. By this point, the other five guards had joined back up with them, along with reinforcement.
Suddenly, the door blocking their way in was dented outwards. It was dented even further, like a massive hammer was being slammed against it. When it was dented a third time, the force field was hit and was cracked. The fourth blow was clearly heard. John's screams had ceased. The fifth blow ruined the circuitry and the force field was cut off. One guard took a step back.
That same guard was flattened by the metal door exploding off its hinges. The steel tore into three separate pieces and surrounded a large blur it seemed. The remains of the door attacked the guards with brutal efficiency. The guards went all out, holding nothing back. They fired their guns and engaged in melee. They employed their Semblances. Explosives were used.
All failed to affect John Raies.
"Hmmm... it seems that it will take a while for it to integrate properly with my nervous system..."
Half the guards were taken out in a second before a sound could go out. The warden fired off his gun. Each bullet burned through whatever they hit, yet none met their target. John flexed his new arm, not even paying attention to his jailers.
The new limb was pure black like ink. It matched his left arm perfectly, all the way down to the fingerprints. The toes on his new legs moved in unison as he briefly practiced controlling them. His left hand was held onto the remains of the steel door, manipulating them telepathically.
He lightly bounced on the floor and burst forward, slamming a guard's head into the wall, turning his brain into paste. He twisted the metal in his palm into a jagged spear and thrust it towards three more guards with enough force to break through their Aura. The three of them now had bloody marks below their chests. They fell one by one.
In a last ditch attempt, the warden struck the back of John's head with the barrel of his gun. The man didn't even flinch. Calmly, the prisoner turned around and started closing the short distance between him and the man. Now that his limbs had grown back, he truly dwarfed the man before him.
With one swift movement, John swept the warden's legs out from under him and pushed him to the ground. He stepped on the man's arm to pin it to the ground and grabbed the hand holding the gun, twisting it so that it pointed back at its owner.
The warden struggled with every ounce of strength he had in him, screaming out in rage, but it was a losing battle.
Raies started talking to him, "You are very good at your job, sir. Throughout the many decades I spent here, there has not been a single incident during your watch. It is sad that they will have to replace you." He forced the barrel of the warden's own gun over his eye. "This is farewell."
By focusing all of his Aura at his skull, the warden was able to survive the first two shots, enduring extreme pain as a result. The third shot stunned him, and he could no longer focus. It was the forth shot that sent a bullet through the back of his skull.
Standing up, John examined the bodies around him and took the clothes of the man who was the closest to his build. The fabric stretched and tore in some places, but it would do for now.
He dabbed his fingers in the warden's blood and wrote a message on the wall. After wiping his hands, he procured a small bottle of whiskey from one of the guard's pockets and took the first drink of alcohol he had in almost thirty years. While walking down the halls towards freedom, he started singing in baritone.
"My Life~
I've walked down many paths, crushed so many foes like ants
All was to protect a single land. My battle was long and grand
Yet it seems like all medals will turn to rust~
My life~
It was a long winter evening
The blood was on the ground
In their very own houses
So many corpses were found
Oh~ our lives!
These lives that I know nothing of
Fleeing between these hands of giants
I grieve for its tomorrow~ "
The investigators were stupefied at what had occurred. Such brutality had never occurred since the very construction of this prison nearly a hundred years ago.
How could a man, completely crippled save for an arm, have ended the lives of so many guards on his own at such an age!?
His fingerprints were all over the sites of the massacre. The way the metal was bent and distorted clearly pointed to his Semblance being at play.
A bloody message had been written on the wall.
Ladies And Gentlemen, I'll See You In The Capital
John Raies
Height: 199cm
Weight: 127kg
Eye Color: Orange
Hair Color: Grey
Age: 67
Weapon: ? ? ?
Semblance: Sculptor's Vision. He can telekinetically manipulate any solid he touches. His mastery of this ability was unmatched during the Great War.
From Iapet, Atlas: Gorr Szell
"Err... Sir? With all due respect, isn't this just too much?"
A young man stood straight with a proper posture while maintaining a respectful salute. His military uniform had not a single stain or wrinkle. A high-spec blade with a spinning edge was sheathed at his belt.
A middle aged man with a uniform similar to the younger man's, save for the circular badge denoting his rank, turned away from the... person. "You doubt our procedures, Wilson? You have permission to speak your thought freely."
Wilson took a deep breath. "The press is already breathing down our necks. I was barely a toddler when the war ended, but I remember how tense things were between the government and the public, not to mention relations between Kingdoms. Every action is either swept under the rug or completely exposed. If the press catches wind of this, it'll be a disaster."
They were currently within a complex military facility on the outskirts of the town. Everything that happened in here was strictly confidential. At least, it's supposed to be like that. Unfortunately, the news channels always seem to find some sort of legal loophole to worm their way into the place.
The room they stood in had just Wilson, his superior officer, and two other guards he hadn't met before.
Actually, there was one more...
Chained securely to a metal chair, a man of massive proportions was heavily sedated to the point that saliva dripped out of his mouth while his eyes focused in different directions. He was a crocodile faunus. His skin was a pale yellow with the exception of his back, which was tinged green with scales.
Gorr was blindfolded with a metal cap strapped to his head. The cap was hooked to a machine that would electrocute him with fatal amounts of electricity at the push of a button. Seemingly oblivious to this, a daft smile remained on his face. A wordless chuckle escaped his lips as if he was having a fun daydream.
Corporal Steve Brenton grunted before staring ahead. "Private, if I'm not mistaken, you were transferred here recently, yes?"
"Correct, sir."
"Then tell me, why are we executing this man?"
A drop of sweat rolled down Wilson's forehead. "He is a serial killer, an absolute madman."
His superior nodded. "He is a dangerous man with a dangerous mindset. For the sake of society, these kinds of people must be put down. Seven of our soldiers were killed taking him in, good men with families. I will not waste their sacrifices over my own carelessness."
"I-I understand sir."
"Good. I respect that you have decent morals, but sometimes, you must stow away these emotions for the sake of rationality, for your duty.
Now stand alert."
"Yes, sir."
Wilson stood to the side, bracing himself for what he was about to witness, a coldblooded execution.
Corporal Brenton pushed the tiny red button, and it began.
The serial killer's body began to spasm. His head arched back and every one of his digits began to bend and twist uncontrollably. A pained rasp escaped his lips. Then he screamed, as if his skin was slowly being cut off with a butchering knife.
The private glanced over to the corporal, gulping down a lump in his throat. The execution was supposed to happen almost instantly. Szell shouldn't be going through so much pain. Did his unusually strong body have something to do with it?
Gorr struggled against his chains, but they held. The Atlas military knew full well how strong he was and used their strongest alloys infused with gravity Dust to keep him restrained. The giant of a man finally started screaming out as tears of blood started dripping out from underneath the blindfold. Only after he started foaming at the mouth, did he stay still. His entire body was smoking.
After another minute, corporal Brenton took his finger off the button. He closed his eyes and mentally paid respects to his fallen comrades.
He shouldn't have taken his finger off of the button. Even more than that, they should have picked a method that would kill instantly before it was too late. Now, it was too late.
The chains, the machinery, the chair, and the very ground beneath Gorr's feet were shattered in an instant. The only thing the soldiers saw was a shockwave. Something the two guards could see was a large shadow swallowing their own. Hands the width of their torsos grabbed their heads and smashed them together. Any defense their Aura could put up was too inadequate. Their helmets crumpled like newspaper.
"KaHAhakKAaaHh! Why did you stop!? If you kept the machine on for another two minutes, you could have killed me!" His lips curved into a wide, gruesome smile, too stretched out and distorted to appear friendly. Now that he stood up, the top of his hairless skull scraped the ceiling of the room. His eyes looked small compared to the rest of his face, like an eel.
Brenton was behind him in an instant, utilizing his semblance which tripled his speed, and delivered a doubled handed hammer strike. The blow smashed the prisoner a meter into the ground and shook the entire room.
The man's eyeballs were shaking, but he still remained standing. He turned right around and kicked the corporal through the walls behind him with a massive front kick that seemed to span the entire room.
Wilson rushed in and slashed at Gorr's neck with his sword, a sword that could slice through stone like butter without even swinging it. This same blade that had the properties of a highly advanced chainsaw was stopped in its place. Orange sparks flew to the ground before the sword was shattered by large black claws that extended from Gorr's fingertips.
The private stepped back, his blood turning cold with fear. He reversed the grip on his broken weapon and tried stabbing the crocodile faunus in a last ditch attempt.
He dodged it while swiping his arm forward at the same time, all while keeping a perverted smile. Five bloody lines appeared on Wilson's body before they rapidly expanded and he fell to the floor choking and gasping.
Gorr grabbed the destroyed remains of the metal chair and hurled it at the wall. It busted through the facility like a missile, creating an exit path towards freedom. He walked forward at a normal pace, passing by dozens of injured military personnel who were hit by flying rubble. They were all panicking. Luckily for them, Grimm populations in Atlas were extremely low due to the extremely cold environment.
He snatched a packet of cigars from a rations box and lit every single one of them. After a long puff, he exhaled enough tobacco-infused fumes to fill a school bus. A blizzard was blanketing the earth in snow while he entered the woods, his figure disappearing into the shadows.
"Now... where should I visit next?"
Gorr Szell
Height: 232cm
Weight: 229kg
Eye Color: Black
Age: 51
Weapon: None
Semblance: ? ? ?
From Semprel, Mistral: Darren Richards
"It was suicide?"
Investigator, Akira Sato, nodded. "Yes, there are no signs of a struggle and it was his own prints on his gun." He allowed the warden some time to process the event before making an inquiry of his own. "Did he show any signs of mental illness before this? Any hint of suicidal thoughts?"
"No, he was full of life. Tim loved making people smile, treating coworker and prisoner alike with respect and kindness... Though... actually... there is one thing... but it's been years!"
"What is it?"
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking away from the body. "Five years ago, before he transferred here, his fiancée was assaulted while coming back from her work as a nurse. She bled to death before he could get to her."
Akira wrote this all in his notebook. "The prisoner who escaped, why exactly is he here in the first place? Any information I could grasp from his files were vague at best."
The warden's eyes lit up with anger. "Richards, that bastard, there's only thing I can say with upmost certainty..." he glowered. "He's evil."
Darren Richards was dressed up eloquently in a three-piece suit with a simple light green color scheme. Though he could be said to be good looking, he didn't really stand out from the crowd. Average height, average build, light brown hair combed neatly to the side, brown eyes, and an expressionless face. He quietly sat down in the transit ship to Vale, the city specifically, not the Kingdom. These days, air travel was the safest mode of transportation.
He read a small, hardcover book about philosophy while he waited for the ship to reach its destination. A young girl, no older than nine, tripped over his foot while she was playing with her friend.
The child fell to the floor. Richards showed no concern nor sympathy and continued reading his book. She started sobbing uncontrollably until her mother came to pick her up and whispered soothing nonsense into her ears.
Out the corner of his eye, he observed the pair. After a second of deliberation, he shook his head. 'No, they have nothing of interest for me. They are nothing special. It'll start in the city, the real story of humans..."
Darren Richards
Height: 170cm
Weight: 63kg
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Light brown
Age: 34
Weapon: ? ? ?
Semblance: ? ? ?
Akira Sato
Height: 178cm
Weight: 72kg
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Age: 27
Weapon: ? ? ?
Semblance: ? ? ?
Vale...
A cloaked figure crept through the darkness like a formless shadow. It made not a single sound as it continued its mission. The figure maneuvered around the complex with practiced technique.
In seconds, it had found the target. A small hand reached out towards a cabinet and slowly opened it. By feeling around the inside, even without light, the package could be located. Dainty fingers closed around the objective and pulled it out. The cold, smooth glass was being warmed at the slightest touch. A triumphant smirk appeared on the shadow.
Mission complete...
The lights flickered on. "That's far enough."
Ruby gasped, a cookie already crammed in her mouth. Hesitantly, she turned around.
Her sister was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed beneath her chest. Yang was wearing a light, buttoned-down shirt with soft, black pants. Given that it as the middle of the night, she didn't bother with putting on a bra. Her luscious, golden mane trailed along her back. The oldest daughter of the Xiao Long Rose Household had her eyes closed with both drowsiness and mild disappointment.
"Ah... uh, hehe... funny to see you here, Sis..." Ruby discreetly put her hands out of Yang's line of sight beneath her cloak to hide the fact that she was caught with her hand in both the figurative and literal cookie jar.
"Oh?" Yang opened her dark lilac eyes to look down at her sister, placing a slender finger on her chin with a mock pout. "Why would it be funny? We've both been living here for months."
The baby sister tried her best to discreetly swallow the remains of the cookie before speaking again. "...I can explain..."
Yang nodded understandingly, "Hm, then go ahead. Explain."
Ruby opened her mouth, then closed it, biting her cheeks. "I just woke up here," she fibbed, looking away to the side.
"My my... sleeping walking again?" Her sister placed a hand on her cheek, raising her eyebrows. "Perhaps we need to visit a doctor. What do you think, Natsu?"
The girl's eyes widened. Her hands were suddenly empty as if they never held anything in the first place. Ruby looked up at the counter next to her and saw Natsu sitting criss-crossed, drinking a glass of milk.
"Sleep walking's pretty dangerous, kid. Who knows where you might end up one of these days?"
She was cornered. Her uncle had succeeded in teaching her combat, but he'd failed in making her a decent lier. Ruby tried for the sympathy approach. "I-I was hungry! I'm a growing girl! If I don't eat when I'm hungry, it'll be bad for my health!"
The two just looked at her with unconvinced smiles.
Natsu tossed the cookie jar up and caught it. "As far as I'm aware, these are mostly made of sugar and fat. Course, you need a little of both, but too much will probably stunt your growth or something."
Yang shook her head. "Please understand, Ruby. I'm not angry at you. I'm just disappointed. These actions of yours are both dishonest and unhealthy."
The little girl wilted underneath her hood.
"Until you learn your lesson, for the next two days, you don't get any cookies. Come on, let's go to bed now." The older sister left the kitchen to go back upstairs.
Ruby desperately grabbed her leg and was dragged across the wooden floor. "Waitwaitaitwaitwait! This isn't fair! I have my rights! You can't do this!" she wailed.
"Is that so?" Yang growled, unamused. She picked Ruby up by the scruff of her hood and looked her in the eye. "How about this," she proposed. "We'll have three rounds of rock-paper-scissors. If you win even once, no punishment. Deal?" She smiled sweetly.
"Yes!" Ruby smiled widely. The odds were wildly in her favor. She would win this easily!
"Waaaah~ You cheated!" Ruby was being dragged upstairs.
"Too bad, lil' Sister." Yang raised a solemn hand over her heart. "In all of Heaven... and Remnant... there are none who can best me at this game."
By observing which of the opponents muscle fibers were tensed slightly, she could predict what motion they would make. This was her secret weapon that made her unrivaled in rock-paper-scissors. Ruby had lost before she even began.
"Cheer up, kid." Natsu poked Ruby's cheek consolingly. "You'll get to eat plenty tomorrow. Get some sleep so you'll grow tall like your sister. Its a special day tomorrow. Well... special-ish... Anyways sleep well, who knows what tomorrow'll bring?"