Not only a new story from myself, but in an entirely new archive. Welcome one and all to Viridian Sunset, my newest side-project. If you are familiar with my previous work in the RWBY archive, glad to see you, and if you aren't but are willing to give this a try, I welcome you.

This is gonna be pretty AU heavy, and I've got a few plans for it all, but a lot of it is open to suggestion/interpretation. Feel free to let me know what you think.

Thanks to Maxstroid for supporting me this month!


It was dark, wet and stormy. Footsteps pounded the waterlogged pavement with rhythmic splashes, one after the other, without fail.

Shouts in the distance. Loud, getting louder.

The footsteps redouble in intensity, becoming almost frenzied.

Then, the footsteps faltered, splashes ceasing as the figure creating them tripped.

Hands first, body second, water cascading around as the figure impacted.

Teeth grit in pain, hands clenching to fists, the figure quickly scrabbled to their feet, footsteps resuming.

The shouts were even louder now, and as the figure looked back over their shoulder they could see the armor glinting in the evening lamplight.

"Halt or be fired upon!" One armor-wearing individual shouted.

The figure did not halt. Instead, the figure ducked into an alleyway, hoping they'd lose their pursuers.

Dead-end. Bad choice.

"I will not repeat myself!" One of the armored men shouted, leveling a rifle at the figure.

Izuku Midoriya did not know what to do.

Luckily, he didn't need to do all that much.

A new figure descended from the rooftop without so much as a thought, landing with ease and spinning, her leg taking out the first of the armored men, knocking him to the ground.

The other spun, finger on the trigger, and Izuku felt himself moving, slamming his own somewhat-insignificant weight against the other armored man, knocking his rifle to the side as it released a round, kicking up water and concrete.

The woman quickly placed a hand against each of them, and gripped tight.

Izuku stumbled backwards, already soaked beyond belief, and watched in amazement as she span, hefting the two armored men with such ease it almost made them seem weightless. She continued to spin, and then she released.

The two men soared into the sky, growing more and more distant, until she placed her hands together.

There was visible strain on the part of her face that Izuku could see, and two distant groans of pain.

Izuku opened his mouth to thank her, only to be silenced by the sounds of more approaching armored footsteps.

Many, many more.

She glanced at him, and beneath her helmet he could see her bite her lip, deep in thought.

They were getting closer.

Finally, after what seemed like millennia, but was more than likely only a few seconds, she came to a decision.

"Stay quiet and follow me. Closely."

Her voice was tinged with a slight accent, but it wasn't something Izuku found himself focused on, instead focusing on where she was headed.

She scaled the wall with ease, extending her hand to Izuku, and he grabbed it, finding himself suddenly weightless as she deftly pulled him up, and he felt the weight return to his body, thudding to the rooftop with a wet thud.

And so he ran, feet pounding wet rooftop, following the girl who'd saved him, all the while wondering…

How had he ended up here?


All were not born equal.

He'd learned this lesson as early as everyone else.

It was taught in schools for a reason.

Quirks were dangerous. Lethal. Humans bred with genes that made them weapons.

Izuku was one of the lucky ones, ones that didn't need the quirk suppressant stims.

He didn't have a quirk.

He'd grown up around those who did, who'd had to constantly take the suppressant stims every day. Eventually, when they'd been exposed to the stims for long enough the time between injections would be lengthened, but it was once a day until you were no longer a teenager.

They hated him for not having to take the stims.

Katsuki Bakugou had been the worst offender, somehow equally offended by Izuku's demeanour and lack of a quirk.

That had lasted for so many years.

Then Kacchan had died from a stim overdose.

That had put to rest a lot of the anger he'd been on the receiving end for years.

Izuku had been devastated, though. Kacchan may have been aggravating, brash, loud and arrogant, but Izuku still considered him a friend. Even if the blond boy might not have returned the favor.

Now, though… he was gone. A remnant of a time long past.

He wasn't the only one, now. As the government clamped down on even the most minor of quirks and the police had been slowly but surely moulded into the 'Protectorate', quirk suppressant stim usage was at an all time high, with overdoses becoming more and more common as time went on.

People wanted to be quirkless. Izuku couldn't blame them. His mother had a quirk, a mild telekinesis quirk, and she'd overdosed only a day earlier, a painful death.

That was, he imagined, where this all began, really.

The folder, hidden underneath their washing machine.

He didn't know how he'd found it, only that he'd seen the little bit of manilla sticking out from underneath the white mechanical washer, attracting his frayed, distracted attention.

He'd tugged it out, frantic and terrified by what it meant.

'Please just be something Mom dropped. Please.'

In a way, it was. He opened it, and stared in shock.

Protectorate Intelligence Report - 02/13

The Protectorate are increasing patrols in the area. Unknown why. Recent UA activity may be the cause, possible they've triangulated Unit 1's positions. Further update pending.

Izuku stared. The document was undoubtedly written in his mother's handwriting. He turned the page, scared of what he'd find next.

Protectorate Intelligence Report - 02/20

Sixteen preemptive arrests in the last week, all potential UA recruits. Cover is not blown. Establish recruiting elsewhere, Unit 1's precinct has tripled in size. Source indicates a larger incoming threat, has the higher-ups clamoring for reassignment. Further update pending.

If Izuku's face wasn't pale enough, reading these was enough to solve that issue.

Protectorate Intelligence Report - 02/27

Forty-three casualties in Protectorate raid on suspected UA hideout. Media coverup followed, UA were not involved. Forty-three innocent deaths… Further update pending.

Protectorate Intelligence Report - 03/06

Protectorate brought in specialists. My cover is in jeopardy, but if I run now, Izuku may be in danger. If things get even worse, it may not matter what I do. Further update pending.

One final page in the manilla folder, the date marked one day before she'd died. Izuku almost didn't want to read it.

Protectorate Intelligence Report - 03/13

Izuku. Whatever you do, do not trust him. I love you.

Izuku froze, folder in hand, as someone knocked on the apartment door.


"Izuku Midoriya?"

The voice was muffled through the door, and Izuku was quick to slide the folder under a basket of washing, stepping up to the door.

"We know you're in there, Midoriya. Please open the door, we just have a few questions for you. Protectorate business, you know how it is." The voice said again.

Izuku tried not to let the past few minutes show on his face as he unlatched the door. "Can I help you, officer?"

The man that stared back at him was dark-skinned, deep green eyes meeting Izuku with a genial smile on his face.

"I'm Sergeant Mud. We just have a few questions for you about your mother, that's all."

Izuku immediately went on the defensive. "My mother died yesterday. I'm sorry I can't help you."

The teen tried to close the door, only to be stopped by the white-plate-armored hand of the accompanying Protectorate soldier.

The smile on Sergeant Mud's face dropped a few degrees. "You have our sincerest condolences, Izuku. However, I am still obligated to ask you these questions."

There was no way he'd be able to get out of this.

"If you have to, sir. Just, please, make it quick. I have to organize a funeral."

"May we come in?"

Izuku, internally, panicked. Externally, however, he stepped aside, motioning for the men to enter.

"A lovely apartment. Now then, we should get right to it, no need to take up any more of your time than we must. What did your mother do for work?"

Izuku watched as the sergeant took a seat at the table, the armored soldier standing near the door.

"Mom worked in the post office weekdays."

Sergeant Mud nodded, jotting it down on the notepad he held. "Did your mother ever express any discontent with the Protectorate?"

Izuku paled. "What? No! I never heard her say anything bad about anyone!"

Mud glanced at the soldier.

"Good, good. To your knowledge, did she ever speak with anyone who may have expressed discontent with the Protectorate?"

Izuku shook his head.

The pen tapped the clipboard sharply twice. "Izuku, I need you to verbally communicate your answer. Otherwise I may not believe you."

"Not to my knowledge," Izuku answered.

The soldier glanced at the sergeant.

"Final question, Izuku and then we'll be out of your hair. Did your mother ever record any information on either the Protectorate or the terrorist organization UA?"

"No," Izuku said.

Mud looked to the soldier once more.

The soldier shook his head.

"Izuku Midoriya, you are far too much like your mother for your own good. You are both terrible liars."

A million things flew through Izuku's head in that moment.

He settled on the only thing he could do.

The door was blocked by the armored soldier, so he did the next best thing.

Izuku took a running leap out the window.


Landing hurt. He knew to roll for the landing, knew not to stop.

He wished he'd known how much it hurt to fall two and a half stories onto a concrete rooftop after smashing through a window.

His arms were bleeding, hoodie torn beyond belief from the glass shards, and his vision was somewhat obscured by the steady trickle of blood that ran over his left eye from the gash above his eyebrow.

He could hear shouting, alarmed neighbours and angry soldiers.

He didn't pay them any attention, instead grabbing the fire escape ladder and quickly climbing down off the building, trying not to let the slick metal cause him to lose his grip.

He was soaked through, now. The rain was heavy, and left deep puddles around the divits in the ground.

His mind was barely focusing on that though, too busy with the two-hit combo that was the fact that his mother was secretly a terrorist, and that he was now also a terrorist, just because he'd fled.

One thing he did know for sure was that he trusted his mother. Implicitly. If she said the Protectorate weren't to be trusted, he would believe her.

Then the new woman had saved him, only to take him back to the rooftops, and demand he follow her.

To be fair, she had saved him, but there was also the fact that, aside from his deceased mother, Izuku was having a hard time trusting anyone at the moment.

"Where are we going?" Izuku demanded, taking a moment to gingerly wipe away some of the watered down blood on his forehead, wincing as the cuts on the back of his hand made contact with the cut above his eyebrow.

"Shh! Do you want them to hear you?" The woman responded with heat. "We're going somewhere safe. Somewhere the Protectorate can't get you."

That, Izuku didn't believe. "Right. I don't have any money, stims, or any information."

The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm not doing this for a reward."

"Then why are you doing this?"

She stopped still, turning to face him with alarming slowness. "Why? Do I need a reason to help someone who needs help? To involve myself in the struggle of an innocent against evil?"

Izuku cut her speech short. "Yes! That's what people do! How did you even know I was innocent?"

The woman looked at him.

Okay, she had a point.

"Still, why would you-"

She cut him off, wrapping a hand around his mouth and pulling him down to the wet rooftop. "Shut up and don't move!" She hissed, going still.

Izuku did exactly as instructed, trying not to squirm as she pressed tightly against his back.

Her hand was still over his mouth, and all his injuries were screaming their objections, but he remained silent as a load roaring sound passed overhead.

A Protectorate dropship, followed by a second and a third, all searching for someone.

'Searching for me,' Izuku thought.

They lay still for another moment before she stood up, helping him to his feet. "Come on. Like it or not, I'm your only chance."

Izuku let out a groan of pain. "Please just don't end up betraying me."


The trek had been silent aside from the occasional groan of pain that Izuku let out, doing his best to keep them not only minimal, but as quiet as possible. He wanted to avoid drawing attention as much as she appeared to.

She was still yet to explain anything, but Izuku wasn't exactly in a position to refuse her help, so he had allowed himself to be led along, through the city.

They'd reached the city limits with surprisingly little in the way of Protectorate patrols getting in the way, though he had to imagine that the woman at least had some kind of route planned.

No one was that lucky.

"In here," She said, gesturing to what looked like the entrance to a stormwater runoff.

He stepped in first, trying his best to avoid the rushing water, filled with various bits and pieces of debris from the city above.

It was dark, nearly pitch-black after about ten feet, until it was illuminated suddenly, the woman holding a flashlight.

"Now we can talk, out of earshot. What's your name?" She asked, as she began walking into the pipe.

Izuku held his tongue for all of a single moment, before giving up. There wasn't all that much point concealing well-known information, let alone his name.

"Izuku Midoriya," Izuku answered, following behind her. "How about yours?"

She shrugged. "Not until I know I can trust you. For now, you can call me Uravity."

Izuku easily resisted the urge to snort at the name, reminding him so much of the long past age of heroes. It seemed to be an obvious inspiration, from the name all the way to the skintight costume she wore.

"Right. Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe."

Her answer was still cryptic, and it was starting to get on Izuku's nerves.

"Look, I'm not a Protectorate spy, or something like that. Please, just tell me."

Uravity stopped for a moment, sparing him a glance. "I don't trust you. It's nothing personal, it's just we've had too many close calls lately, and I don't need another death on my conscience."

Izuku could put it together all the same. "You're UA."

She at least deigned him with a response. "A part of UA, yeah."

She resumed her walk, splashing through running water, Izuku still behind her.

"I think my mother was too."

It slipped out, he hadn't meant to mutter it, but she heard it all the same.

Her pace maintained, but her posture froze, almost as if she was caught off guard, still trying to operate despite a revelation.

"What do you mean?" Uravity asked, still stepping carefully through debris-ridden grey-water.

Izuku very nearly clamped his hand down on his mouth, before giving up. The Protectorate already knew, there was no doubt about that.

"My mother, I think she was working undercover to spy on the Protectorate and send information reports back to UA."

She had no further questions for him, instead lapsing into silent thought as they walked.

Then, without any preamble, they arrived at their destination.

Well, 'destination'. It was certainly where they'd been heading, but it was just a large intersection. More storm-drain pipes led off from it, rushing water meeting in the somewhat stagnant pool in the middle as Uravity clambered up a ladder onto a metal catwalk.

Izuku quickly followed her, wincing at both the feeling of cold metal on his bare hands and the wounds on his body as he strained his muscles to heave himself up.

He followed her along the catwalk to a ladder with a closed hatch above it, and as Uravity climbed up deftly, squeezing through the small hatch, Izuku found it slightly more difficult, fatigue wearing away at his body.

A hand grasped his own and helped him up, and it wasn't until he looked up that he realized the hand that had helped him wasn't Uravity's.

Instead, a man of immense muscle and blond hair stood towering above him, piercing blue irises floating amongst a sea of black.

Izuku paled quickly, and not from blood loss. Even he knew who this was.

"Y-you're All Might!" He squeaked out, as the man closed the hatch behind the green-haired ball of nerves.

"Indeed, boy. Uravity, who have you brought me?"

"He said his name was Izuku Midoriya. Apparently his mother was a UA informant, sir," Uravity replied.

All Might stared at Izuku intently, eyeing him up.

"Midoriya, hmm…" All Might muttered, before turning back to Uravity. "Take him in, get him some clean clothes and a bunk, and show him the showers. Oh, and you might want to give him one of the first aid kits."

Uravity nodded, gesturing for Izuku to follow her, which he resumed doing with fatigued stiffness.

"Welcome to UA's Unit 1 Headquarters, Midoriya," All Might announced from behind as Izuku stepped through the threshold behind Uravity, and he found himself marvelling at what had once been a large maintenance facility, then abandoned.

It was now full of desks, various bits and pieces of equipment and other paraphernalia, all scattered in a kind of order that would only make sense to someone familiar with the layout.

He was led to a small adjoining room, where a set of cubicles stood. Uravity handed him some drab olive-green clothes, which he accepted quickly, and opened the door for him, revealing what was effectively a small shower and bench.

Another movement had a small metal box placed on the bench, marked with the typical red cross that designated first aid.

"Once you're finished, I'll show you to a bunk. You look like you could use some rest."

Izuku let out a humorless snort. "Yeah. I guess."

He closed the door behind him and turned the tap, stripping out of his ruined clothing and letting the lukewarm water run over his form, wincing as the cuts and scrapes stung under the liquid.

His hands came up and wiped the dried blood loose from his face, water turning the misty reddish-brown as it cascaded down his body.

And he let out a long, emotion-heavy sigh.


For a single second he'd entertained the possibility of it being a dream. Maybe he'd thought it all up as a way of rationalizing his mother's sudden death.

Then he'd opened his eyes, and not been greeted by his familiar bedroom ceiling.

Instead it was the drab olive green fabric of the hammock-like bunk above the empty one he'd been provided.

A glance to his side revealed a small table with a tray atop it, some bread and an apple on a plate, along with a glass of water.

Not exactly a great meal, but it was better than nothing, and considering he wasn't exactly in a position to complain, he would just accept it as it was.

"Oh, you're finally awake. Morning sleepyhead."

Izuku nearly shot upright at mach 10, only slowed down by the soreness in his muscles. "Ow…"

The girl took one of the chairs from the table and reversed it, taking a seat and leaning her arms on the backrest. "You knocked out pretty fast. Guess you were even more beat up than I'd thought."

Izuku let out another groan as he stood up from the bunk and stretched his arms. "I did jump through a window and out nearly three stories."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Must have a pretty neat quirk, then."

That made Izuku pause. "Uh, no?"

"What, don't like your own quirk? Rather just hit yourself with a stim and forget all about it?"

Izuku shook his head. "I don't actually have a quirk. Genetic defect, they said."

The girl's eyes shot wide. "Oh, crap. That's… huh. So when you jumped…"

Izuku took the other seat, biting into the apple. "Mmhmm. It hurt."

"Well, color me impressed. You got grit, that's for sure."

Izuku accepted the praise for what it was, already moving onto a different topic. "You said you were Uravity, right?"

The girl nodded. "Yep. The boss says to trust you, though, so you can know my name. I'm Ochako Uraraka. Nice to properly meet'cha and all that."

"I just wish it was under better circumstances. I don't really want to end up as a hostage of a terrorist organisation, you know?"

Uraraka frowned. "You realize in your little hypothetical that I'm one of those quote-unquote terrorists, right?"

Izuku met her eyes. "I'm aware, yeah. It's why I mentioned it, to gauge your reaction."

It caught her off-guard. Where the meek, nervous boy had gone was beyond her.

"Is this how you always are in the mornings?"

"Only when my entire life is turned upside-down overnight for the second time in two days."

"Well, that I can understand. Same thing happened to me not too long ago. Same thing happened to a lot of us. UA took us in, gave us a place to stay, and the opportunity to help people in need. People like you, last night."

Izuku shrugged. "To be fair, I would probably be enjoying a nice home-cooked breakfast with my mom right about now if it wasn't for UA, so forgive me if I'm not entirely appreciative."

Uraraka frowned, standing from her seat. "You know, you were a lot nicer last night."

Izuku sighed. "I'll be nice and friendly and not on-guard when I find out what my future is. All I know right now is I'm effectively, as I said, a hostage for UA to use against the Protectorate.

Uraraka stepped back, towards the door. "When you're done eating, come outside. The rest of Unit 1 want to meet you, and All Might will discuss your future with you. You seem pretty concerned, but we're the good guys. Hopefully you realize that."

With that, she stepped out, leaving Izuku with a piece of uneaten buttered bread, and half a glass of water that he was going to take his sweet time with.

He could always apologize later, if he needed to.

He just didn't want to be executed for being quirkless, or whatever it was that UA actually did.

In hindsight, maybe he should've tried to convince her that he did have a quirk.


I'm excited to work on this in my spare-time when I'm not writing Systema, so I hope you enjoyed!

I have a twitter fat_flying, and a Pa Treon as AFatFlyingWhale if you wish to support me.

And, as always, see you next chapter!
~AFatFlyingWhale