"The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." -Monty Oum


RWBY x Red vs Blue Crossover:

"Metastability"


Chapter 5: Bite the Bullet

The bar was spectacular in Maine's opinion. It was spacious, with several round tables surrounded by chairs. There were also a great deal of people here as well, chattering and drinking away while waiters and waitresses passed by offering food and drinks to their customers. The lights were constantly flashing, but they remained a soft color as to not cause some discomfort or medical problem for the others. Around the back, a small counter was found, manned by a bartender dressed in a white dress shirt, black vest and tie, and a dark goatee. When they entered, the man had given them a slight look, but gave a nod to York, who grinned back at him. It was obvious the two shared some sort of history. Anyway, they took their seats near the back of the bar, while North ordered their drinks.

"You know," York chuckled as he rested back in his chair. Like everyone else, he was outside of his armor, wearing a simple light brown shirt and black pants. "I didn't peg either of you to join in, since you don't like drinking out."

South rolled her eyes. "Oh stuff it," she said in exasperation. Maine had a hard time trying to look anywhere but her chest, as most of her cleavage was exposed by the large hemline of her v-neck, which also exposed her midriff. She also had some very well developed legs, very toned and slim, which also made it hard not to stare, especially by her shorts. "The only reason I came was because North is buying."

"Ouch," her twin brother winced mockingly, holding a hand to his heart. He wore a black shirt with white slacks. "That hurts, sis, it really does."

C.T snickered, shaking her head. She was more modestly dressed than South, wearing a dark t-shirt and baggy jeans with a few tears along the calves and thighs. "Well, can't say I blame her," she said as she smiled, taking a swig of her mug. "Still, it's a nice chance to unwind. Especially since we've been dealing with missions all month."

"Tell that to Maine," York said. "He's had the worst of it. I can understand the guys in the Top 5 of the Leaderboard, like Carolina...but Maine? Guy gets another mission a few weeks later. I'm telling ya, it's not fair to the newbie."

"You do realize that I'm sitting right here, right?" Maine frowned. He had chosen to wear a simple black hoodie and blue jeans, attire he seemed to be quite comfortable in. Oddly, though, he felt his jacket was lacking something on the front. What, he couldn't say. "Plus, I...don't mind, really. Just means more getting used to stuff like this."

Carolina shook her head. Like Connie, she had chosen something less revealing than South, though Maine still felt himself looking at her. It was a light brown tank top that didn't expose her cleavage, and was even tucked into her pants, which were dark red with combat boots laced up to the calves. Somehow, it once again brought forth that strange sense of nostalgia, and her looks certainly helped. He was sure they had met somewhere before, but where? "Well, don't get too comfortable," she advised. "Even we got to take a break every now and then."

"Wow," South drawled almost mockingly. "This? Coming from the Director's pet?"

"Hey, even I need some time to unwind, South." Carolina glared at her lightly. "There is only so much a human can take before they crumple. Even I have my own limits."

"And the number 1 on the leader board admits it." Wash raised his hands in praise. He was garbed in a black t-shirt with yellow edging on the sleeves and a pair of dark washed jeans.

"Never thought I'd see the day."

C.T chortled. "You're the last person who should be saying that stuff, Wash," she said, giving him a teasing smirk. "Need I remind you who was at the bottom for a MONTH?"

"Hurk!"

"Well, coming from the guy who's life somehow involves getting suckered punch by cars, I'm not surprised," Maine added, deciding to join in on the fun, and thus causing Wash to stare at him with betrayal. "Sorry man, but I agree with Carolina. I am holding that over your head."

"You ass!" Wash then jumped out of his seat and proceeded to put Maine in a headlock. The blonde teen was surprisingly unaffected given his newly discovered enhanced strength.

"Oi oi! Let go!"

The two's struggle caused everyone at the table to laugh. Some of the commotion caught the attention of people nearby, though they didn't pay much more into the matter and resumed back to what they were doing. "You two are like bickering siblings," C.T giggled as Maine escaped the headlock and rammed his elbow into Washington's stomach, causing him to double over. "Actually, speaking about you, how are you doing here Maine? I know it can get pretty rough, especially when you're first starting out."

"Well, it's been a pretty rough couple months...but I think I'm finally getting in the rhythm of things..." The blonde scratched the back of his head.

York smiled. "That's good at least," he said, nodding. "By the by, any news on your noggin?" Maine blinked, looking confused. "I mean, you remembered anything? Carolina told me after your last mission before joining this bunch of ours you ended up getting partial amnesia. You remember anything since?"

Maine fuddled his brow in thought. After a few seconds he shook his head, much to his dismay. "...Nope. Not a single thing. I guess that mission I was on was pretty intense."

"Well, just give it time," North advised the young Freelancer. "Some things take longer than others." He then cracked a grin. "For example, my sister coming out of the closet to say she's gay."

South, who had been drinking her beer, suddenly spat it out, splashing against Wash's face, much to his chagrin. "North!" she screeched, face red. "The fuck?! D-don't tell him that!"

"What?" North rolled his shoulders, seeing no problem. "Come on, just about everyone in Project Freelancer knows about it! Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the Director knew!" He then chuckled while South continued to glare at him, clearly mortified. "You know, the most awkward thing for a brother is to walk in on his sister smooching...but its another thing altogether when you find out its a girl she's swapping spit with."

"We weren't swapping spit!" the twin growled. "A-and we weren't dating!"

"Yet."

"You know what, North? Fuck you, and the horse you came in on."

Maine sweat-dropped. "...did they do this often?"

"You have nooo idea..." The red haired Freelancer responded with a shake of her head.

"It's a pretty common sight to see." Wash shrugged as he took a swig of his drink. "...It's actually fairly entertaining."

"...huh." Well, he had to agree with Washington there. Seeing this was...actually pretty fun to watch. It got even funnier when South took a drink and dumped it on her brother's head. The result was once again the crowd erupting into laughter, especially a few of the onlookers who saw what happened to North.

'At first, I wasn't sure what to think about these guys,' Maine thought as a wide smile formed on his face, taking a drink of his mug. He idly noted how the beer tasted awful in his mouth. 'But...now that we're sitting around a table, talking, and hanging out...somehow, all of these just feels...familiar.'

It's as if he experienced this type of atmosphere before...but where? It must've been another lost memory. But even so...it's pretty nice...

However, as he looked at them, he found himself staring back at an unfamiliar, yet heartwarming sight. The bar was gone, replaced by what looked like a lunch room. The Freelancers around him were also gone, replaced by people his age. There were six girls and one boy, each one possessing a particular character.

One was a young a silver-eyed girl dressed in a black blouse, a black waist cincher with red lacing and a skirt with red trimmings, completed by a red, hooded cloak. Her entire outfit is made up of various shades of red and black with black as the primary color on the main suit and red on the cloak. Even her shoulder-length hair was black with a red tint to it. She had cross-shaped pins holding her cloak to her shirt. Around her waist was a belt which holds large cartridges in individual loops, as well as a magazine pouch. She has a silver rose emblem on her belt. Around her ears were a pair of dark red headphones.

Another was a teenage girl wearing a tan vest with gold piping over a yellow low-cut crop top with a black crest that resembles a burning heart. The vest she had bore puffy cap sleeves with black cuffs. On the sides of the cuffs, there are two small golden buttons. She wore a brown belt with a buckle, a pouch, and a small banner-like object. The same burning heart crest appeared on this banner, except golden in color. She wore black shorts under her belt, which resembled a pleated skirt in the back. Over the short shorts but under the belt was a white asymmetrical back skirt, with an orange infinity scarf around her neck. She wore brown knee-high platform boots that looked to be made of leather, with orange socks of different lengths. Her left leg also had a gray bandanna-like object wrapped around the top of her boot. She also had on black finger-less gloves. Her defining, and most valued trait, was her blonde hair, which is lighter in color at the tips and flowed in a loose and messy manner, with a few locks sticking out and a small cowlick on top of her head. She had a pale complexion, like the two of them, and lilac eyes.

The third was a young woman with an alabaster complexion. She had long, snow-white hair that fell to her knees tied up into a side ponytail. She was garbed in a white dress cut off mid thigh with a black lace on her chest. She wore a white long-sleeved top with a red interior and white boots that went up halfway up her shins. She wore a pair of line earrings and a silver pendant. Her icy-blue eyes were wide in surprise.

The fourth was yet another girl. She had long, wavy black hair that end at her mid back with a black bow sitting on top of her head. Her eyes were golden amber, almost like a cat's. She was dressed in a sleeveless white blouse that exposed her midriff with a black vest over it. She also wore white shorts with leggings that transitioned from black to purple on the way down and black combat boots with metal studs around the top. Around her neck was a black scarf. She had a single black, sleeve on her left arm that extended to her upper bicep while both of her wrists had black bandages wrapped around them like bands. Sheathed at her back seemed to be a sword of some kind.

The fifth was a girl with short orange hair and turquoise eyes. Her clothing was a mix and match of some sort, with different colors and themes. She wore a collared black vest that ended at her waist. Her apparent emblem, a hammer with a lightning bolt, was found on the back. Under the vest were two layers of clothing, colored red and light-blue respectively. She sported a turquoise bow at the back of her skirt. She also wore a white sleeveless top that forms a tiny heart shape between her cleavage and collarbone, with a white detached sleeve on each arm. She wore matching fingerless gloves on each hand. She sported a pink skirt that starts at the waist and ends mid-thigh. Her shoes were a mix of pink and white with pink laces, displaying her emblem on their soles. She also wore armor that began in the middle of the shoulder and neck and ends by the waist.

The sixth individual a male teenager with long black hair tied into a ponytail that ended midway down his back. There was a magenta streak on the left side of his hair. His eyes were pale pink, and wore a dark green, diagonally-buttoned, long-sleeved tailcoat that was red on the inside, with black and gold trimming and pink cuffs. The trimming went down the right side of his torso and formed a black collar. He also wore a black, long-sleeved shirt beneath the suit, and light-tan pants with black shoes.

The last, however, was someone who's name eluded him...but her form was ever so familiar.

Vibrant red hair tied up in a ponytail that fell down to her waist, curled slight to a loose ringlet. Her eyes were a vivid, clear green that seemed to sparkle like gemstones. Some light-green eyeshadow was also present around the upper corners of her eyes. Her form compared to the other females of the table was tall and muscular, but still pretty slim. The top she wore consisted of two layers. The top layer was light brown and strapless split divided vertically by some bronze patterns with small embroidery on the sides. The bottom layer is a low bronze V-neck. She also wore an elastic, black A-line miniskirt and brown, opera-length gloves on both arms. A red, ankle-length drapery was wrapped around her skirt. A small, circular bronze plate was located on her right hip, opposite of two pouches that are connected to a belt. The plate bore a symbol that seemed to resemble a spear over a shield. Around her head was a bronze circlet headpiece that was seen above her ears and under her bangs. A pair of small, teardrop-shaped emeralds hung from the circlet on thin chains. She also sported a bronze gorget around her neck and a bronze bracelet on the upper half of her left arm.

Somehow, the sight made his heart begin to beat rapidly. The faces they all had were lit up and vibrant, looks of enjoyment and smiles across their faces. The blonde was talking to the black-haired girl, who seemed to be absorbed in her book. The white haired girl was speaking with the magenta-eyed boy about something. What, he could not tell. Their voices were muted, left utterly silent with only their emotions allowing them to convey their words. The silver-eyed girl was chattering away with the ginger-haired one, who seemed to be very excited. Meanwhile, the young girl, who sat next to him, smiled at him kindly.

He...he didn't understand...who were these kids? Why...why is he feeling such emotion from seeing them? He didn't know who they were and yet...why was he overcome with nostalgia and longing?!

"...ine? Maine? Helloooooo?"

"Huh? Wh-what?" The new Freelancer blinked as the image faded and reality filled his vision once more.

North stared at him in concern. "You okay there man?" he asked. "You were kinda spacing out there."

"Y-yeah," Maine nodded slowly. "I-I think...I remembered something. I...I was with a bunch of kids, they looked around my age. I don't remember who they were, or why we were there, but...i-it felt...right."

"A bunch of kids your age?" Wash questioned, at the same time relieved that his friend finally remembered something.

"Yeah...i-it was pretty weird though...I-I think we were talking about something...but I couldn't hear what they were saying..."

"Well, at least it's a step in the right direction," North said. "Can you tell us what they look like? We might be able to find something."

Maine nodded, and explained the appearances of each of the kids to them. When he told them of the last one, the red-haired girl dressed like some sort of warrior, York quirked an eyebrow. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's Carolina by the hair and eye color alone," he remarked. "You sure that's what she looked like?"

"Y-yeah," the blonde said, assuring himself. "To be honest, when I first met Carolina, I felt like I knew her from somewhere...now I know why. Still, the resemblance is kind of fucking scary."

"Yeah. I agree." The brunette then turned to his lover. "...Are you sure you don't have some sort of long-lost sister or identical relative you forgot to tell me about?"

Carolina gave York a flat look. "...no, York, I don't," she said, clearly not amused before she had a pondering look. "Although...it would be interesting, seeing a girl who looks like me."

South snickered. "Last thing we need is two Carolina's," she snarked before looking at Maine. "So, who is she anyway? Your girlfriend or something?"

"I...I...I honestly don't know..." The blonde shook his head. "I think we're all close...but I'm not sure about anything past that..."

"Hey, at least there's ONE woman in your life," Wash said, causing Maine to choke and stare at him as if he grew a second head. "What? Dude, I think I speak for everyone when I tell you that you NEED to get laid. You know, work out some of that stress!"

"W-what?!" Maine fumbled. "W-Wash, that's-! I mean! Gah! You FUCK!" The blonde's face heated up in a bright red, causing the others to laugh, much to his dismay.

]What a bunch of assholes! ...yet, somehow, Maine couldn't help but feel right at home with them. Even still, however, while he was surrounded by these lovable assholes, he still felt a sense of trepidation, the same sense that lingered ever since his first mission two months ago. He wasn't sure what caused him to feel this way, or why, but the thoughts plagued him for days and nights.

He still couldn't tell the others, much less Carolina, who he was arguably closer to since she helped comfort him since his first sortie, that every time he closed his eyes, he could see them.

The dead faces of the people he killed back at the lab.

They were always there. Every time he fell asleep, they would be present in the form of nightmares, each one clawing out to him and dragging him down with them...

Sometimes, he could see them out of the corner of his eye. He was even having trouble sleeping. It was a wonder how he hadn't developed bags under his eyes yet.

While he was still bitter, at least somewhat, about being put into this program without any actual self-consent, he did feel grateful for the Director. True, there were a few things he found unsavory about PF, such as the Leaderboard, which would only drive a wedge in their teamwork skills based solely on the idea of competition, but the project had helped him out. He still had no clue about his past, despite the Counselor's assurances they would return in time, but in the meantime, he could make new ones by being with these idiots and nutjobs.

However...how long would that last? What if these...nightmares, started to make him screw up? One mistake was all it would take for a mission to go to hell, and someone would end up hurt, or worse. He didn't want that. Especially not to one of these guys.

...okay, maybe to South, but that was only because so far, she hadn't exactly made a good impression on him yet.

But still, the fact remained that this couldn't go on. He had to find a way to resolve this issue. He didn't want to be a burden, dammit. He's had enough of that! He didn't want to be some lovable idiot, stuck in a tree while his friends were fighting for their lives! He wanted to-to...

...wait...tree? Where...where did that come from...? And why was his head hurting all of a sudden? "Mnrgh..."

His grunt of pain earned the attention of Carolina, who looked at him in worry. "You okay?" she asked. "Did you drink too much?"

"I...don't know. My head just started to hurt all of a sudden. D-does alcohol tend to do that?"

"It does...but not until the next morning. THAT's when you experience hangovers..." North replied.

Wash cringed. "Word to the wise, Maine," he said in all seriousness. "If you go out drinking, make sure you have Tylenol and water when you wake up the next morning." A pause. "Although, not sure why you'd get a headache. I mean, we got the weak stuff."

"Maybe Maine's a fucking lightweight?" South offered. "Hell, Florida was one before he built up a tolerance."

"Maybe. Then again, he's still a kid. So it's probably just his first drink." York shrugged.

Maine frowned. He wasn't sure it was the alcohol causing his headache.

It was most likely the supposed memories that are slowly resurfacing in his mind.

Dammit...if only he could remember...then maybe...

...would those memories even matter? It wouldn't change anything. He would still be a soldier. A pawn on the battlefield, however despicable the idea was. In the end, having memories like those would only get in the way of his civic duty. They would weigh him down and impede his train of thought.


Pyrrha couldn't sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind would drift back the the events she had witnessed hours prior. They filled her with anxiety, seeing what Jaune had to go through in the beginning. What else did he have to endure in the upcoming times that molded him to what she and the others met in Forever Fall?

The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. It was seriously eating away at her. "...Pyrrha?" The red-haired girl craned her head and found Nora poking her head out from underneath the bundle of bed sheets she had gathered as a makeshift igloo of sorts. "What's wrong?"

"...I was just thinking, Nora..." She answered as she gazed at the ceiling.

"About Jaune, I take it?" Ren was the one who asked.

He was still in his bed, but was raised up slightly, propped up on his elbow. His face was wrought with plagued thoughts. "Its...not easy to look at him the way he used to, is it?" he asked. "Its only been a few months, and yet...he's changed so much."

"Yeah...I miss our fearless leader..." Nora moped.

Pyrrha smiled sadly. "...I know how you feel, Nora," she said. "I can just...only hope Jaune wakes up soon."

"If he does, we can only hope that he will be relatively placated. I do not wish for him to be as hostile as he was back in the forest." Ren shook his head.

Nora pouted. "...getting hit with your own hammer hurts."

"Agreed...and your grenades pack one hell of a punch." Ren winced as he touched his bandaged side.

Pyrrha couldn't help but laugh a bit. How odd they seemed to find a lightened mood in their battle with Jaune of all people. However, as her thoughts returned to him, her mind came to those whom he worked with; the Freelancers.

To him...or rather, his persona, Maine...the Freelancers were becoming like a family to him. Washington was like the annoying little brother you wanted; you could tell he was clearly still getting used to his job. North and York were like the older brothers who looked out for you. Florida was...she wasn't sure where to put him. Wyoming was comparable to the annoying uncle. And South was...well, she was a bitch. Carolina though...was like an older sister that looked out for you and while strict, is still compassionate.

It still shocked her that there was someone who looked so familiar to her, but obviously, Carolina was competative, possessing a stronger, more thirsty drive for strength. Pyrrha had found little to no good opponents during her time in Mistral, so perhaps the same was for Carolina...though somehow, she had a feeling that it drove deeper than that. She was happy that she was looking out for Jaune in some way. Lord knows that boy needed help, even if he didn't need it. He would always try to carry the burden on himself, much like how they first met. He tried so hard to make sure no one knew he had forged his way into Beacon, and continued to forge ahead by himself. It only took Cardin's bullying and targeting her that Jaune finally accepted her offer.

Actually, regarding that, Pyrrha felt slightly proud. Even though he wasn't the same person...Jaune had grown stronger. IMMENSELY.

The fact that he was able to throw a twelve foot tall alien warrior through a set of metal doors spoke for itself. He also became smarter in combat, effectively utilizing proper tactics on the battlefield and putting his analytical skills to the test.

'Jaune...you've gotten so strong,' she thought, both proudly...and sadly. 'But...how much did you lose to gain it?'


"...here is the data you requested regarding Agent Maine's latest reports, Director." Aiden Price said as he offered the data drive to his superior.

"Thank you, Counselor." The Director of Project Freelancer nodded as he took the drive and embedded it into the main monitor. Soon, several screens became lit, showing off footage and data schematics, all of which focused on a familiar white-armored soldier. It displayed charts regarding his improvements in ability and his efficiency in the field. Overall, it provided the Director the satisfaction of knowing that the augmentations placed on Agent Maine were gradually taking effect with each passing mission. However...it wasn't close enough. Not yet. For him to reach the level he needed, he would have to push him further. "Counselor," he turned to the man. "What do you suppose would be the most efficient method to increasing his prowess for the next stage?"

"I believe I have the specific scenario we need..." The Counselor nodded as he pulled up the file on his tablet. He then sent it to his superior, who opened it and read its contents.

"...Yes...this will do quite nicely..."

The man frowned. "With all due respect, Director, I believe it would be best to go about this at a decent pace," he advised. "True, his abilities would be valuable should we mold him properly...but if we push him too fast, he would break. That would be a most...unfortunate outcome."

"Hm," the Director hummed. "You have a point...very well. I'll let him have a grace period."

"Director," F.I.L.S.S spoke. "Agent Maine wishes to speak with you. He is currently awaiting permission out in front of the briefing room door."

The two men turned to look at one another. Maine wished to speak with them? How curious. At any rate, the Director gave the okay, allowing the door to slide open. Stepping inside the room was Agent Maine, wearing his armor, though his helmet was long gone, revealing the youthful face with messy blonde hair and the dark red eyes. "Agent Maine," Aiden Price greeted as he nodded to the rookie respectfully. "It is a pleasure to see you again. How are you fairing?"

"All things considered, Mr. Price," Maine replied. "A bit worse for wear."

"Hm, I've noticed...you have dark rings under your eyes. Have you not been sleeping well?"

The soldier closed his eyes, letting out a troubled sigh. "That's...sort of the reason why I'm here."

"Is that so?" The Counselor of Project Freelancer inquired with curiosity. "Please, take a seat and tell me about it." He gestured to the empty chair in the room.

"Okay." Maine did as he instructed and Aiden Price took pulled up another chair to seat opposite of him.

"Now...what seems to be the issue of your lack of sleep?"

"I've been having these...dreams lately," Maine told him. "Every night, I keep seeing them...the people I've killed. Carolina told me that doing this sort of thing never gets easier, and I know that, but...they're starting to keep me up."

Aiden hummed, tapping his finger against his thigh. The Director, meanwhile, listened with intent, leaning against the console next to him. "I see," the man nodded in understanding. "Well, this sort of thing is common. After all, we have been sending you out on missions every month. We were pushing you quite a bit with that last one. It is most likely the stress building. Regarding that matter, we decided it would be better if you took a break. It is best for you to catch your breath and-"

"No."

The response took Aiden by surprise. The Director's eyes narrowed, adjusting his glasses as he stared at Maine. The blonde stared back at the two men, eyes smoldering with a look that any could recognize; Drive. Thirst. Hunger.

AMBITION.

"At first, I didn't like how I was thrown into this project without my consent," he said bitterly. "I still don't. Hell, I don't like the way you people run things, especially with the leaderboard. But...I can't deny the results that brings. By wanting to be in the top ranks, we're constantly pushing ourselves beyond our limits. I understand that perfectly. At the same time, I'm also grateful for you bringing me into Freelancer. True, I still don't remember who I was before all of this, or what I was doing...but I got to meet some of the best people in my life, and I...I don't want to let them down."

He paused, taking a deep breath and slowing standing up, turning to the Director.

"I...don't want to be the rookie. I don't want to be the screw up. I don't want to be the lovable idiot who's just sitting around while his friends are out on the battlefield risking their lives," Maine told the Director, looking him square in the eye. "I want to be...stronger than that. I want to be someone who's earned his spot here on Project Freelancer, otherwise...what good am I?"

"Get to the point, Agent Maine," the Director said coldly. "What is it your asking me?"

"I'm saying...I want you to help me get stronger. Make me into the best damned soldier you'll ever see on this goddamn ship."

His words filled with conviction and lack hesitation. Silence lingered throughout the room. The Counselor examined the Agent with a curious gaze while the Director's eyes were narrowed in an inquisitive stare. Eventually, the latter let out a shadow of a smile on his face.

...It appeared they would go through with the scenario after all.

"...Counselor, please get Mr. Hargrove on the line," the Director asked. "Inform him that we have a Freelancer available."

"At once, Director." The dark-skinned man nodded as he tapped a few keys on his tablet. Maine turned his head in curiosity. Mr. Hargrove?

"He's requested the assistance of a particularly experienced Freelancer," the Director told him. "We were initially intending to send Agent Carolina...though it appears you've shown me something equal to her. Do NOT disappoint me, Maine."

"I will not let you down, sir."

The Director gave a nod.

Unknown to any of them, however...there were another pair of eyes and ears overhearing and seeing this conversation, straight from within the console that Director was using earlier. Inside this console was a virtual world, resembling some sort of research facility. Inside was a holographic image of what looked like a soldier in white armor with black armaments, his form strangely illuminated and shimmering. He seemingly stared out at the world outside, letting out a sigh.

"That poor, poor bastard..."

He felt sorry for the recent addition to the Freelancer team...in more ways than one. Particularly, he pitied the kid because he was more or less inducted into the project against his will. He could understand why the Director wanted to make him a soldier of the highest caliber...but that sure as hell didn't mean he had to like it. All he could do was simply just watch and run algorithms that the Director wanted him to run.

"Be careful, kid...you're gonna need it."


When the Bulkhead arrived at its destination, Ozpin was greeted with a most peculiar sight. The base he was at was sitting atop the ocean, and wasn't nearly as big as some of the other bases he had been invited to. It was probably around the size of Beacon, maybe half, with only a few buildings situated and surrounded by soldiers, crated, and machinery, no doubt the research and weapon facilities. As the Headmaster of Beacon stepped out, he was greeted by a familiar man wearing a white overcoat, with a gray undercoat, black sweater, a red necktie, and a white glove on his right hand. His suit pants shared the same color as his overcoat and were tucked into silver boots accented in gray. His hair was black, with some silver and gray areas, while his eyebrows were solid black, and above his right eyebrow was a metal strip.

"Quite the base you've set up," Ozpin said with a slim smile on his face, approaching his friend. "I'm surprised the military isn't aware of it."

James Ironwood chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "If I didn't know what I do now, it probably wouldn't even exist, Oz," he told the man in earnest. "And I have you to blame for that."

"The most respected General in all of Atlas, working behind his kingdom's back with a secret project?" Ozpin joked. "I do believe hell has frozen over."

"Even I know that there are times where particular projects are meant to be confidential...even from other members of Atlas' governing body..." Ironwood replied with a stern expression.

"I see...well, I can't say I disagree. But I digress, I'm afraid I did not stop by for idle chatter..." The expression of Beacon's Headmaster became serious once more. "...what is the situation?"

The General gestured for his friend to follow. Then they walked toward one of the buildings nearby. "The armor you sent was...well, I'll be frank, Oz. We've never seen anything like this. It took us nearly ten of our best scientists just to try and figure out what was used to make the metals, and nearly everyone we had skilled in programming to hack into the damned thing. There's still a lot we're trying to learn about it, and we've only just scratched the surface."

"I'm not surprised," Ozpin commented. "Project Freelancer, from what we've seen so far from Mr. Arc's memories, is technologically advanced...something of which I am not surprised of, if humanity has truly taken to the stars."

"I still find that hard to believe."

"As do I...though I suppose stranger things have happened. Regardless, what else have you found out?"

Ironwood sighed. They soon reached a door, held shut by a series of locks. The General began to input a key into the pad next to the door. After inputting a few numbers, the locks disengaged, and the door opened, allowing them to enter the facility. "Other than what little information we could gleam from the armor, we found a few data banks. They're heavily encrypted, so its going to take a while before we can investigate it further. However, regarding the chips you sent us...well, lets just say its a good thing I'm doing this behind the council's back, otherwise we'd be having this conversation elsewhere, and in a field day."

The facility wasn't large. In fact, it looked like some sort of research room, as various tables with machinery scattered about were found all across the room, and the walls lined with several advanced computers. The white, bulky armor that belonged to Jaune Arc, the feared soldier called "Meta," sat in the center, held in place by a table while various machines were hooked up it, and several men in white lab coats working furiously to decipher its secrets.

"How so?" Ozpin asked, curious as to what his friend learned. "Is whatever data inside really that significant?"

Ironwood stopped, and looked at the Headmaster with a serious look. "Oz...those chips didn't have data," he answered. "They had AIs."

A pit suddenly formed in Ozpin's stomach. He knew where this was going. Out of all four Kingdoms on Remnant, Atlas is the most technologically advanced. But even so...they barely scratched the surface when it came to Artificial Intelligence programs. The closest thing they had to a complete AI were programs similar that the F.I.L.S.S. Program from Project Freelancer. However, the AIs that were in those chips...they were something else entirely.

"I read the reports you sent me, and I can with certainty, whatever Leonard Church was trying to do, he was risking the lives of his soldiers, and more importantly, their sanity," Ironwood said vehemently, his voice showing great disapproval. "The human mind can only process so much information. Implanting an AI, especially ones as complex as you described from that man's memories, directly into one's own neural system...that is the same as putting a gun to your head, with the safety off, and the trigger ready to be pulled at any second without your finger anywhere near it. One is stretching it, but theoretically possible...but implanting two or more? That can damage the brain to the point where the poor bastard would end up brain dead."

Ozpin frowned. "So I've noticed," he muttered under his breath. "However, what I'd like to know is...out of the eight AIs, have you succeeded in restoring one of them?"

"Yes, we have," Ironwood nodded, and they continued walking. Their destination appeared to be towards the back of the room. "However two of the AIs were destroyed, so only six are capable of being repaired. How long is the question, though. Thankfully, we have one online, but..."

The Headmaster quirked an eyebrow, seeing Ironwood's troubled expression. It seemed like he was at a loss for words, a rare sight considering that this was Ironwood they were speaking of. "But?"

"W-well...you'll see for yourself." The General gestured to the device located a few feet away from where they stood. Nodding, Ozpin stepped forward and stopped before the large machine. It consisted of several individual panels and monitors. Embedded in one of the panels seen through a glass window was one of the chips containing an AI. The General tapped a few keys on one of the main panels and the main monitor crackled to life. "This is one of the AIs we're trying to restore as we speak," Ironwood said. "According to the files, its listed as "Omega." It was the AI unit assigned to a Freelancer Agent known as 'Texas.'"

Ozpin tapped his chin. "Texas...yes, I've seen her before," he said, recalling the memories he saw. "She was quite skilled. I would have little doubt that she could be on par with even Raven...and that is no easy feat." He then turned Ironwood. "However, I fail to see why your so nervous. And since you said your trying to repair this one, I doubt that this is the one you managed to get online."

"That's-"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE WOMAN, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!" a loud, obnoxious voice screamed through the facility, catching nearly everyone off guard. "I! AM! NOT! AN! AI! I! AM! A! GHOST!"

Ozpin slowly turned to Ironwood, who groaned, face palming. "That...is the AI we restored," he said before he led Ozpin into the room he was leading him into. The door slid open with a soft hiss, and the men stepped inside. The room actually looked like some kind of bedroom, as it had a few posters of bands and movies along with a few comfort utilities lying around. However, instead of a bed, there was a chair hooked up to several machines, and the chair was oddly designed. It looked like someone was meant to lie down on it, with their body bent at a certain angle, and there was a strange green circle right where one's neck would be.

The room's occupant was a girl around the age of 17 with short, curly orange hair that came down to her chin with a pink bow in her hair. Her eyes were open wide and bright green. Her complexion was light, with freckles dotting across her nose. She was garbed in a rather old-fashioned, beige blouse with short, feminine overalls colored gray with bright green highlights. She wore a black and green collar with a matching pair of stockings. However, oddly, a holographic figure danced in front of her face. It appeared to be an armored individual, with a familiar make to a certain armor Ozpin had seen somewhere before, and the armor was glowing light blue.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Church, but I will repeat this as many times as necessary," the girl said, a cheery smile still on her face. "Your schematics clearly state that you are an AI, not a ghost! Besides, ghost don't exist, silly!"

"Bull fucking shit!" the holographic soldier snapped, clearly irritated. "I'm a ghost, not an AI! God, how many times do I have to go over this?! L-look, Penny, I ended up killing myself when I went back to the past to try and fix some shit up, only to make everything that happened in the 'present' actually happen, which included me getting team-killed by our own tank! Seriously! Just ask any of the guys on Blue or Red Team! More importantly, when the hell are you going to let me leave?!"

"When the General has fully restored your functions, and ensured that you are not a threat."

"A-a threat?! I'M NOT THE THREAT! The real threat is a fucking scary mute who can fuck your shit up in so many ways! He's as scary as my ex-girlfriend...and he's like eight of her in one package!"

The Headmaster's lips curled into an amused smile as he turned to Ironwood, who looked extremely uncomfortable. Eventually, the man coughed into a fist, causing the attention of the two to turn to them. "Penny," he said, nodding his head to the girl while pausing slightly to the holographic soldier. "Alpha."

"Oh, General Ironwood!" the girl's eyes lit up as she snapped into a salute. "Salutations!"

The holographic soldier crossed his arms. "Who the fuck's this?"

"Oh, right, you haven't met him yet! Silly me~ This is General James Ironwood, of the Altesian Military! He's why we were able to repair you!"

"Repair me?! Bullshit! How the hell can someone repair a motherfucking ghost?!" Church exclaimed in exasperation.

"Simple. It's because you are an AI." The orange haired girl replied cheerfully.

"I AM NOT AN AI!" Church screamed in a shrill manner.

"...I see what you meant now," Ozpin said slowly, doing his best to hold in his laughter. He had to admit, this was just absolutely hilarious to see. "However, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, miss...?"

Penny bowed her head politely. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ozpin," she said respectfully. "My name is Penny Polendina. It is an honor to meet you!"

"Penny here is one of our more...special operatives," Ironwood said, clearly uncomfortable. "It was primarily thanks to her that Alpha was restored...if only partially. It seems that most of his functions were heavily damaged."

Church turned his head, grumbling. Meanwhile, Ozpin looked at the holographic soldier with interest. Alpha? Wasn't that...? Well, only one way to find out. "Hello," he said to the AI. "My name is Ozpin, the Headmaster of Beacon Academy."

The AI tilted its head. "So...what? Your like a Principal or something?"

"Something along those lines," he shrugged. "Now, I couldn't help but listen in on your conversation...what were saying about a, as you so colorfully put it, fucking scary mute?"

"Yes! Finally! Someone who has the common sense to listen to what I'm warning you guys about! The scariest fucking mute in the Galaxy! The Meta!"

"Tall? Dressed in white armor? Violent temperment? Blonde hair?"

"Exactly! He's-wait..." Church paused. "...how do you know he has blonde hair?"

Ozpin shrugged. "Well, I should, considering he's one of my students. While you would know him as Meta, or Agent Maine, his real name is Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR...who has been missing for a few months now."

"...I'm sorry, what?" Church asked again, thinking that he misheard the Beacon Headmaster.

"The person you know as The Meta is one of my students, Jaune Arc. He has been missing in action since a few months ago, and his friends and team mates dearly missed him."

"...I repeat, what?"

"Would you like me to repeat a third time?" Ozpin raised his brow in mild amusement.

The AI didn't respond for a few minutes, most likely processing what he had just been told. Finally, he verbally responded. "...You're telling me...that the Meta...the scariest motherfucking mute in the Galaxy...the person that went around killing Freelancers, taking their equipment, and ripping out the AI from their heads...is a student at some sort of high school?!"

"As a matter of fact, yes he is."

Once again, Church was stunned silent. A while later, he spoke again. "...you're shitting me..."

"No, I am not," the man replied. "He's currently resting at the infirmary, though he has been asleep for the last few days."

"...okay, no offense man, but ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" Church screamed, his form glimmering red for a moment in response to his outburst. "That bastard nearly killed me and my team! On several occasions! All because he wanted the AIs! Look, I don't know why you brought him to your school, but the Meta, or Jaune or whatever the fuck his name is, is a nutjob who will kill every person in your school until he gets his hands on the AIs!"

As Church said this, Ironwood turned to Ozpin, his eyes narrowed. "He does have a point, Oz," he said, agreeing with the AI. "Perhaps in the past Jaune Arc was a student of yours, but this was before he became apart of Project Freelancer. He's a risk. He should be quarantined and placed under arrest. He's a danger to everyone at Beacon!"

"THANK YOU!"

"Perhaps," Ozpin nodded. "However, the fact remains that he was, and still is, a student of mine." Slowly, his eyes narrowed. For the briefest of moments, the Headmaster's eyes burned. "And I'll be damned before I let any harm come to my students."

"OH, YOU ARE SERIOUSLY NOT PULLING THIS BULLSHIT NOW!" Church exclaimed in his shrill, angry voice. "Did you not hear me?! This bastard won't stop his rampage unless he takes all the AIs! Especially the Alpha! How can you still see him as your student, or whatever, even after all this crap?!"

Ozpin adjusted his spectacles. "Because that boy has been through hell and back," he answered simply. Church was about to respond, but he cut him off with his hand. "That, and one cannot be held accountable for his actions, when those actions are performed by the acts of another. Tell me, Alpha-"

"Its Church." the AI interrupted rudely.

Ozpin cleared his throat. "Right...Church. Are you familiar with the term, 'metastability?'"

"Nope. Why? And what the fuck does this have to do with the Meta?"

"Oh, I believe I know that!" Penny said suddenly, surprising everyone. She had been relatively quiet up until now, most likely because she did not want to interrupt their conversation. From what she gleamed, this Meta was a student of Headmaster Ozpin's, and despite the General and Mr. Church's words, he was adamant about wanting to protect him. "Metastability refers to the fourth and final stage of an artificial intelligence's rampancy. In this state, an AI can be, theoretically, be considered human."

"What do you mean...Theoretically?" Church asked her. "And how the hell do you even know that?"

Suddenly, Penny became quiet. Unusually so. She looked away, her green eyes suddenly losing the luster they had once before. Church and Ozpin stared at her questionably, though the latter, wanting to respect her privacy, decided to move on. "A colleague of ours, Krimzen Reed, is able to look at a person's memories," he explained. "And thanks to him, we were able to learn about Project Freelancer, and what became of Mr. Arc during his absence. Each Freelancer, at some point in time, was implanted with an AI in order to help increase their combat capabilities and run their armor enhancements properly."

"Yeah, I know that," Church remarked. "Tex had Omega...who was an asshole. And for a while, Caboose had Delta. He was like a living machine...or, whatever. I think I remember Wash telling me that the other AIs were all actually fragments of the original. But what does this have to do with anything?"

"The AI that Mr. Arc was paired with was known as Sigma. While I haven't had much a look at him due to the limited information we have...we are aware that Sigma was interested in the concept of metastability. And, as you said so yourself, the other AIs were all fragments of a single AI - the Alpha, that being you, I presume. Now, try and picture this, Mr. Church. Picture an AI in your head, an idea that is as dangerous as having a loaded gun implanted into your skull which can go off at any time, and it wants to become 'human.' However, as you are a program with living thought, such a goal is nearly impossible...but then you realize that the other programs are actually fragments, as are you. Thus, it would stand to reason that, if you could gather these fragments, you could become whole and, in theory, become 'human'...but that begs the question: how does a computer program have the means to achieve that?"

He paused, letting it sink in. The implications were dawning on the blue colored AI.

"The answer is simple...after all, your inside the head of one of the most skilled, most powerful, and most heavily equipped soldier in a ship full of experienced and talented soldiers."

"..So...This Sigma guy was using the Meta to gather Omega, Delta, and the others, even the Alpha, to achieve metastability, and theoretically become human?" Church asked.

"Precisely."

Church was silent for a while. Eventually, he spoke up. "...any chance he's, uh, you know, still lingering inside his head?"

"We removed the AI chips," Ozpin answered. "Though regarding mental damage, that is another matter."

"...you, uh...mind if I take a look at him?" The three looked at him, staring in confusion. Church shifted his position, clearly uncomfortable with the stares. "Let's just say I, uh...have some experience with, you know, dealing with mental problems?"

Ironwood stared at him with incredulous disbelief. "What sort of mental problems could you have possibly-"

"An idiot by the name of Caboose went and got himself taken over by Omega, who was a genocidal maniac by the way, so me and my ex-girlfriend had to go in and get rid of him," Church answered, causing Ironwood to blink. "And trust me when I say...Caboose's mind is a place that you do NOT want to be in."

Ozpin pushed up his glasses again, this time with a clear interest twinkling. A soft smile formed on his face. "Are you willing to help?"

"Whoa, hey now, don't get me wrong, Wizard of Oz," the 'ghost' rebuked. "I trust Meta about as far as you can throw me, but if he's dealing with some kind of, you know, mental stuff, I know a thing or two. Hell, may as well be someone's fucking shrink, since I've been inside Wash's head." He paused, then shivered. "Never again, man..."

The Headmaster smiled widely. "Perhaps we can exchange stories along the way, then. After all, lord only knows what's happening the further I'm away. A certain...rambunctious group of girls at my school finds themselves in the must curious of situations."


"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." -Sun Tzu, "Art of War"


Preview:

The story of how Agent Maine became a soldier has closed...but the book isn't over yet. After all, before there was Red vs Blue...

...

...

...

"Can't you stabilize him?!" Washington snapped as he ran, trying to keep up with the medics while Maine sat in the stretcher, his white armor cracked and stained with red, and his helmet littered with fractures. "Isn't there something I can do?!"

"Just stay calm, Agent Washington!" One of the medics advised him. "We have the situation under control."

...

...

...There was Project Freelancer...

...

...

...

[Agent Maine, isn't that the soldier you fought at the freeway?] Sigma asked with honest curiosity, fully aware of the fiery rage building in his partner. [The one who shot you in the throat?]

Maine let out a low growl, glaring at the man with utter hate while his fingers curled into fists. 'Yeah...it's him.'

[I thought so...sic 'em.]

...

...

...

ARC I: The Soldier Called Maine - END


A/N: ...welp, we REALLY done it now. XD We are now officially obsessed with this story if we're just pumping out chapters like this! At any rate, as you can see from the preview, we are now officially heading into Project Freelancer. However, keep in mind that all of this will mostly be from Maine's point of view. Regardless, its gonna be one hell of a ride, especially since we're going to see Maine in his element~ Also, I apologize if we are rushing his character development...but I really don't want to make this 'Jaune becomes the Meta' arc last longer than five or six chapters. So, again, I apologize.

Now, regarding Ironwood...people REALLY like to bash on this guy and compare him to the Director. However, you need to remember something; this guy is an ally of Ozpin, so he KNOWS what the fuck is going on out there. He knows about Salem, so he technically has a right to be paranoid. True, he doesn't trust Ozpin at times because of his decisions, but he does have good intentions. That is what I wanted to show off here with this chapter, the man that Rooster Teeth meant for him to be shown. That said, Ironwood clearly doesn't like the idea of a murderous monster at Beacon so its gonna take a while before he can actually trust in Ozpin's decision to keep Jaune around.

As for Church and the other AIs...the basic premise is that the EMP just damaged them, but outright destroyed them except for two. As for what two AIs were destroyed, I shall not say. What I can say, however, is that Omega will be making an appearance...which is probably a bad idea. I mean, dude, hello? Murderous psychopath who represents rage? God forbid he and Adam meet. *shiver* That is a duo I don't wanna see. Will Maine also receive the other remaining AIs? That also remains to be seen. At any rate, though, Church wants to help Jaune with the mental trouble, even though they are on bad terms right now.

Oh! Also, a guest was asking how they could have removed Maine's armor when it took several machines to remove the Master Chief's. First of all, while Red vs Blue is loosely connected to Halo...dude, really? It ain't SPARTAN armor. True, (at least in my head canon since there's no way their skills are natural) the Freelancers have had their bodies augmented, but not to the same extent as SPARTAN soldiers. Removing the armor is difficult, but not impossible.

Now, before I end this...the poll results ARE IN! Ladies and gents, drum roll please!

Pyrrha - 109

Carolina - 95

Ruby - 68

Blake - 59

Yang - 53

Cinder - 53

Neo - 40

Weiss - 30

The winner is...AAAARKOOOOOS! But damn! Carolina was coming up from behind so damned close! ...and yet Weiss was still at bottom, ten votes below Weiss. I see that pairing isn't exactly popular. Oh well, least my friend and co-writer can rest easier. Well, that's it for now.

Later losers, and I'll see you all next chapter!