RWBY and the World of Remnant is owned by Rooster Teeth.

All Original Characters are my own creations, but are free of use for anyone wishing to add to their history, in stories of your own.

(Just make sure to send me it! I'd be curious to see!)

Enjoy!

"Regional Operative."

Titles such as this, Atlas had many, making them left and right to try and organize the empyrean, entropic void that was Anima's white wastelands, and southern green forests, willed homogenous by a council thought hegemonic.

Aside from their backyard, however, the "thinking heads" of the proud flying citadel had control over nothing.

We did.

The high-ranked of the Atlas military. Some of us veterans of the Great War, watching over the areas neighboring Mantle, or districts of the ever growing Mantle itself.

And the new blood. The promising agents, with their heads in the cloud, wishing to reshape the star to our will.

Me? I just want to live. Without having to fight and look behind me each time I take a step forward. What's moving on if you leave your thoughts behind?

That's why I fight. I fight not to fight later on. So that no one will have to fight later on. But even I know that such a wish will not be granted in a lifetime, not when faced with a timeless menace such as the Grimm.

This is the meaning of a forever-war. Countless are the generations that have had to mourn and wallow in sorrow.

And yet, you're here.

A kid that stood against the endless storm alone for an unknown amount of time, only coming by by challenging the strongest army in the world.

Your life challenges all odds. The fact that you exist, that you can fight, that, in our first skirmish, only by sheer power, you laid a blow on me, even if infimate. Do you realize what it means to me?

Puh, of course you don't.

Even now, as you bear the grey and white uniform, I can see you wiggle uncomfortably, complain of the size, of how it restrains your moves.

I can see the gleam of doubt in your eyes, the mockery in your grin. Such thinking that many cast off as childish, but that I can't help but smile at, even if I try to conceal it.

But I have hope. Hope that behind this facade, your knowledge is critical. You know what it's like to live out there, alone. You know what it is like to witness loss, you see everything through unfiltered eyes, no external influence has a hold on your soul, you alone, in the sea of blind patriotism, know which problems exist that we can solve, would we choose to look at it.

And so I'll make your voice heard.

I will train you. Raise you to be more than a senseless brute, swinging about a weapon of pure power, forged by the sibling bond you're pledged to with the Girl within the Sword. Your sister, Irae.

Arms crossed, confident, steadfast, I stand before you.

"Your training starts now, recruit! In two weeks, you will enter the official exams, and you will perform something someone has to train for years to accomplish!

A miracle upon an achievement, an undone before feat! Gabriel.

Together, let's resha-"

-"Can I have a drink before that?"

-"What-?! I- pardon?!"

"This moody-!"

"...Fine. Whatever."

-"Neat."

And off you went…

-"Gods, this is going to be difficult, nonetheless… Wait, is he headed out? Wait a minute, I haven't told someone a word of this- dammit, wait, come back!"

And already, I followed behind you.

Looking back, I suppose it started then.

It was then that the future of the world broke apart of what it was to be.

(Break)

The 17th floor's interrogation chambers did offer a certain opportunity. When left alone and the supervision room alongside it locked, they became perfect rooms to exchange words amongst other things in guaranteed intimacy.

As such, when Lavender divulgated her plan of helping Gabriel rise to the position of Regional Operative from naught, with the guards at the door dismissed preemptively, none had any idea of that plan besides her and him.

Even the uniform was brought by none other than Lavender's sister after a swift text message saying naught else but "Fetch me a standardized uniform, no questions." A feat feasible for someone of her albeit lower echelon.

So many details that might have escaped the two airheads, as one exited the room for a drink while the other thought how bad of a ride she'd gotten into. Only to realize it'd just gone worse.

Kicking herself off of the chair and exiting the room rapidly, realizing her mistake, she opened the door to the corridor and noticed her realization, although violent, was nonetheless slow.

There was no middle-long brown-haired, blue-eyed, claymore-wielding, uniform-wearing, headache-inducing teenager out there. Which could only mean one thing.

"Now then let's see- what the fuck is that?"

In the meantime, Gabriel had found his way in the elevator, which door was opened, though no longer once he'd made his way in. Automatic doors, a sign of progress. Science. Yeah.

Nonetheless, science is only as potent as the knowledge of its user. And when faced with a panel of buttons, one next to the numbers "7" and "17", from left to right, being lit up, the young man hadn't a clue of what it meant.

"...What's the point of this-? Uhm…" Letting his hand trail unto the buttons, he felt they could be pushed. It wasn't just decoration, it turned out. It did stuff.

"...Is this like a car? Does this square place go places? Am I at… I'm guessing 17? 17 what, can I- oh."

As he trailed his hand upon the panel, he'd unwillingly leaned onto it while his finger rested on the one affiliated to… 8.

Which clearly had triggered a series of events he had no control over anymore, for the elevator spoke up, with an uncannily cheery female voice, which he couldn't help but to jump to.

"Wassup, homie?"

-"What!? What is-!?"

-"Ya know what protocol is, I mean ya should, else, you'll, you know, like. Die and all? I'm sure you know."

-"H-hey, chill out, by the gods above, I'm just-"

-"Now then!" As the voice cleared its throat. Only now did Gabriel come to his senses and realized.

-"Hah… right. Automated messages… I've seen that in places around here. It's a bit like their tin cans, 'cept this is a… tin. Box. I guess."

-"Gonna be asking you the security question. Better answer right or else bye bye!"

-"Alright, hit me with it..?"

-"Who's the coolest chick around here?"

Eyes closed, grinning, the boy had quite the confident expression on his face. He was expecting something hard but there is always a pattern.

-"Well-..."

"Wait. What did this thing say?"

"...The coolest chick!? What-!? How- this-?!"

"N-Now hold on a moment here-"

-"You have 10 seconds~!"

The screen showing the current floor served as the perfect, and most ominous countdown there was at that moment.

"Aahh-eh!? O-okay, okay. Think. Just think a moment. I- for real I only know ONE CHICK HERE."

"Then again, it would be…"

Pausing for a few seconds of his time to ponder over his sudden thought, he then snapped his fingers to say, with a bit of a frown that shows disagreement :

"...Lavender..?"

*TINGATINGATINGATING!*

-"Hey~! Welcome home! See you in a sec, this was Elise, out~!"

-"Oh thank the lords above. Now what…?"

It is only now that the "Tin box" began its descent, as the walls, through the power of science, projected a vision of the outside through what was in fact not a set of brown-painted alabaster walls, but seamless screens, that he realized he was moving downwards. From quite high on.

"Ohh… this is what's going on. It does move, just… up. And down. Alright, yes, I guess it does make sense. Oh, that's well made though, look at this. Sensational view. But seriously though what the HELL was that!?"

Facepalming hard while waiting, he huffed out loudly, trying to process what had just gone down. Did this scene take place in such a situation, in such a building? Wasn't everyone supposed to be like Lavender or these half-assed, narrow-minded soldiers? This was Atlas, and he didn't exactly hear the most pleasing of things about them when it came to ethics, and now an elevator asks him a pop quiz which can be summed up by "Isn't my boss the coolest?". In the same place where the Atlas administration itself is represented in this region. A seat of power.

It was almost as if a demon lord was caught making pastry for orphans in the underground dungeon of his castle. It makes zero sense, but it is quite welcome, looking back.

"Though hold on… did this girl call herself Elise?"

"Good information, this! I think I have my chances to find in her someone that can either break me out of this shithole or help me to integrate, would option A be called off. Though let's hope I can still just walk out and go on with my day, not too long from now. She should soon notice I ain't what she's after."

That being said, while deep in thought, he'd taken a view around, appreciating the surroundings of young Argus. There wasn't much to see besides habitations, a few larger residences, and of course the shore airbase. Though can you really call a bunch of metal "shore" anymore?

Though he couldn't take much in, as the projection stopped after a beep, signaling his arrival to the 8th floor. The door opened in a veritable capharnaum of noise, from people talking, to paper flipping, to the sound of office machinery beeping and complaining about that fucking ink.

Try working in an office and not hate photocopiers and printers.

Then after the noise came the visual feedback.

Twenty, perhaps thirty people, wearing a uniform slightly different from his. The white of Solitas was clear to see, obviously, but the sleeves and sides arbour a deep shade of blue.

Even their military ranking, which every soldier bears for all to see on their left shoulder, differed. Where Gabriel's single "V" standing for recruit stood, they only had an eye-shaped oval, with a lightning bolt in the place of a pupil.

Their only weapons laid upon their offices, pushed against the walls on the sides. Radar feedback, maps with a myriad of indicators and other information on their computer screens, some of them having other screens on their forearms, much like Lavender, in Gabriel's memory. Those ones seemed to gravitate around a large screen in the back, showing on display a large map of Remnant, which seemed to actualize with every second with hundreds - perhaps three - of nametags on spots dispersed in all four corners of the globe.

The others kept their headsets on, watching their screens intently and writing on paper things he simply couldn't understand, not from the distance, but very well because none of it made a speck of sense. Words scrambled, numbers mixed in, forming a result undecipherable.

And while all this seemed to make the room important and secretive, the lack of windows and the overall dimness of the light in this room did not help at all with that. So many things that had Gabriel curious however, as he took a step forwards into the room.

Some heads were beginning to turn over to greet the newcoming boy, though right before this could happen, a small figure got in front of a distracted Gabriel, and slammed an elbow in his sternum, which pushed him back in the elevator. Before he could even make a pained sound, another blow to the throat paralyzed his vocal cords, which had him fall back with nothing else than a quiet squeeze while he held the last spot he was hit in, struggling to breathe in.

"Hey, boss, you tripped again?"

The small, seemingly feminine figure in front of Gabriel which was hiding him from sight, standing in the elevator doorway, turned around and stared at the man in the room whose voice had risen up in mockery.

The voice coming from her was more than familiar.

-"Oi, don't you got shit to do!? The day YOU trip, I swear, I will elbow-drop your kneecaps until the point you won't even need surgery to remove your leg! Ya hear me!?"

-"Oh, damn, alright, I didn't think your ass was this sore from last night's game, god damn!"

-"ENDING ON A +4 IS A BITCH-PUSSY MOVE!"

A second person, a woman this time, intervened.

-"You really think this argument holds in a war?"

-"THIS IS FUCKING UNO, WHAT- I swear, every time we talk about something, it can be buying ice cream, getting a drink or love interests, your ass always comes back to war crimes, how the hell do you manage this, Eanna!?"

The short-and-black-haired woman huffed and spun her office chair around again.

-"Some soldiers played UNO in the halted battles of the Great War."

-"Yeah- well." The man added. "To be fair wit'chu, ducks can fly, Grimm can fly, we ain't eatin' Grimm though. Same logic y'know, that, like-"

-"Exactly! Thank you, Valian."

-"I try my best, chief."

-"Still bitch pussy." The smaller girl, designated as the one running the place, entered the elevator backwards and pushed the button to close the doors.

-"Really man!?"

All Valian had as an answer is a kiss blown by the tip of her middle finger.

As the doors closed, the girl and Gabriel, still wheezing a bit from the last blow, shaking his head to snap out of his groggy state, were isolated, not going anywhere for now.

The girl took this time to face him while pressing on the button for the 4th floor, letting out a long sigh and brushing her twirly shoulder-length brown hair away, pouting slightly.

"God, you're dumb." Her purple eyes, quite similar to Lavender's in shade, stared him down. "Seriously, of all places you went to mine? You realize how close we were to a full-blown catastrophe for both you and sis!? And why are you even here? I know you were supposed to get this outfit but I didn't expect you to just be left to roam the place!"

-"I- look, I'm-" Gabriel stuttered, not sure of what to say.

-"SHUT!" She pushed a finger on his nose, staring and leaning down, making his eyes cross slightly to stare at his own nose. "I know. This dolt didn't pay attention. It happens when you run on her nerves. Not to mention that she sent me a text message to 'Tell you to come back if I just so happen to cross you.' A nice way of saying she fucked up. But see-"

She whipped around and waited for the door to open, straightening up.

"That's one of many things you'll need to get good at if you want to live up to Lavender's expectations. If you must fuck up, fuck up professionally. In other words, you didn't fuck up, you planned for this. If it didn't go your way, it's the person you sent's fault."

-"The hell!?" He stood back up, hands on his hips, shaking his head to get some strands of hair off his eyes. Clearly, the last remark didn't seem to fly so well with him. "That's complete bullshit, and you-"

-"Kid, did you listen to ANYTHING me and the boys said in the last 30 seconds? We're not exactly the image of righteousness, either morally or by the book of Atlas, and that's because a number of us couldn't give two shits about etiquette." Her head turned slightly, to look over his shoulder back at him with a more casual stare. "But if you want things to go your way around here, sometimes, you're gonna have to pretend like you do. So say as little as possible, do as little as possible when asked for nothing, and most importantly, one thing she forgot to mention : Take that outfit off when you're not here."

-"Huh? Wasn't this supposed to make me fit in..? Hell's the point if I gotta take it off again?"

-"Ugh." She rolled her eyes up at that. "You got it wrong. This isn't to fit in, but to BLEND in. Your name is not registered anywhere, if someone actually tries to know who you might be and they notice there's no one that looks like you in the database, they'll charge you for impersonating an Atlas officer of the law. This will get you in some BIG trouble if you keep that on out there, but in even bigger trouble if you sneak in here without it. Got it?"

-"...why…" Gabriel sighed at all this, facepalming. "Alright, sure… you're really going to some lengths to let a random dude in your army of goons."

-"Huff. Don't you get me wrong here, I'm certainly not doing any of this for you, overpowered man-child." The elevator made a tiny beeping noise, as the door opened to what seemed to be a resting lobby. Quite a spacious, and high area, with a bit of a lounge look to it. Course, he couldn't see much of it, since the girl jammed her fingers on the 1st floor button before stepping out, turning around and saluting goodbye.

"My sister got a hunch. And I believe her. Now away with you! You'll find drinks 'n shit in the city!"

The door began to close, which had Gabriel panic a little about something.

-"What about Lavender, I was supposed to-!?"

-"She'll find you instead, goodbyeee!"

-"Wait-!" The door closed on him, his head dropping a little. "Ah, couldn't even ask her her name… though from the voice…"

"Quite the character she's got, this Elise. I see how she could be Lavender's sister. Both of them are a hell of a handful, not to mention one of the two actually KOing me. That… was new."

The chime of the elevator ended his thought process, as the doors opened to the ground level. Gabriel headed past the reception, trying to act natural, walking out the building through the main door.

Checking over his shoulder, all he could see was the receptionists not paying him any mind, either too busy, or pretending to be.

Gladly, he wasn't interrupted. He pushed the doors open, walked down the stairs to the sidewalk, then remained there, looking around himself for a while.

"So that's where we are… Huh?"

-"Indeed." The voice only he could hear answered. "Welcome to Argus, brother. The edge of Atlas' influence."

Where it all began.

Why hello thereeeee.

I haven't been writing for quite a bit, I truly apologize for the abscence, but here I am, back to continue this story I'd left behind, beginning with the brand new 4th Chapter : "Regional Operative"!

The story will begin to kick off as the 5th Chapter, currently being written, comes out.

...Also is it me, or is Elise almost more terrifying than her sister?

Perhaps we'll learn more of her next time.

Either way, I wish you all a nice day/evening!