Chapter 1: A normal evening...

It was a normal evening in Vale, everything considered.

A breeze kept the weather cool, presenting the perfect occasion for a late walk out alone with your thoughts, going out with your friends for a nice night together, or to simply enjoy the pleasant night.

'Or, a little heist with a couple of people you hired from a dear acquaintance.'

This thought came from a man wearing a white coat and a black bowler hat, who was strolling down the street looking like he owned it, followed closely by 4 men wearing the total opposite of him. All black with a red tie, a black fedora and sunglasses... even though they were in a poorly lit street. All the other people in the street at the sight of the man wearing white quickly gave a wide berth without a second thought, gaping and glaring holes at the sight of the man. The man, meanwhile, was reveling in all the fear and hate the gazes/glares held as he felt them upon himself. After all, he does deserve all of this attention. For all of his hard work, this was only the least these people could give to him. He was Roman Torchwick after all, the only kingpin in all the city of Vale, one of the most feared and infamous criminal in said nation, he damn right earned the privilege to be feared.

He considered himself a bad guy. He liked being that, it felt right. The bad guy represents who he is best. He had the personality for that, the charisma and most importantly, the looks. When you're a thief that steals from people- even from other thieves at times- in the hopes of stealing something more valuable, it will be far better if you look good while you destroy the hopes and dreams in someone's eyes… Ah, you obviously also need the skills to survive. And damn, he got all of that and more. It didn't really matter how much he wanted to take things that weren't rightfully his. He stole, yes. Some people may argue that taking things from others was wrong from all perspectives , but that didn't bother him. The only thing that mattered was that he had stolen them, and that they were now rightfully his. People's fault they can't keep them close to them. To survive, he would have said once, time ago. But as time passed, what was for surviving became a living. After all, who could resist the thrill of stealing something under someone else's noses, the thrill of the run where every second of thinking may have you dead or captured?

Who would want to live on without that thrill, who could, once they felt it? Why wouldn't someone risk their life to not steal anything? It wasn't like there was anyone out there with morals and justice, anyway. Roman's morals have shifted after and during all these years... If he could call them that anymore. His morals haven't just changed. They were completely shattered, those morals imparted to him crushed into dust by the giant hand that is "humanity". People were shackled by fear of the consequences their actions brought and by their own morality... He once was like them, but he's free now, so why should he be afraid of his own actions? Why should one live by morality, when he gains nothing out of it? The only time he tried to be on the side of "justice", he only saw the worst of humanity. He saw what the men who called themselves "the righteous one" were capable of, all of their objectives and dreams, and the lengths they were willing to go to achieve them, even if it meant going against what they were meant to be. It's not like he didn't know selfish people existed, he knew that quite well, but as naive as he was in his youth, he hoped -something that he stopped doing a long time ago- that there still were people capable of being selfless. Selflessness… thinking now about it, it seems like such a fantastic thing, something that could exist and be in a fairy tale. He -obviously- didn't find those people… Although, he did find people on either one side of this spectrum: from people capable of only thinking for themself, to people who couldn't help but think about others. So, in a few words, people like him and idiots who will die soon.

But, as beautiful as it is to be alone with one's thoughts in such a nice evening, it is useless to linger on these thoughts now. He still has some righteous work for the society to do - a robbery in the middle of the night-... even if he isn't exactly thrilled about it, for what it meant especially. But, the robbery was unfortunately one of his most important tasks in his last years.

"From Dust 'Till Dawn" was one of those common dust shop you could find everywhere, in every major city. You know the kind, those not so high quality to be frequented by the wealthy ones, but neither by the lowliest kind of people. And while the dust wasn't the most refined, what he needed wasn't quality but quantity. He opened the door of the shop, hearing the familiar sound of the bell, and entered inside followed by his henchman.

"Good evening, what can I do for-..." The elderly shopkeeper initiated his usual "client greeting", until he raised his head and found a familiar man clothed in white with a black bowler hat -the infamous Roman Torchwick.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?" One of his henchmen followed him by pointing a gun at the shopkeeper's head.

"P-please! Just take my Lien and leave!"

"Shh, shhhhhh, calm down, we're not here for your money." With that he looked at his henchman.

"Grab the Dust." They begin opening suitcases and fill them with all of the crystals in the counter, while the shopkeeper could only look as all his merchandise were stolen. While all of this was happening, Roman noticed one of his henchmen unsheathe his sword while going towards the sound of what sounded like... music.

"Oi." Said henchmen turned his head towards his boss. "Take care." With that, he turned his attention to the crystals once again, not noticing the henchmen's confusion. A few seconds later, he heard some fighting noises from the direction his henchmen went, with said henchmen flying past him. He mentioned for some of his henchmen to deal with the new threat, doing so calmly, after all 'What can a little girl do against all of them?' As if reading his thoughts, he saw her crashing through the window kicking her opponent away, looking no worse for wear. His ex-henchman went flying away, as the girl landed on the ground leaving a trail of red petals behind her. Looking better at her, everything about her was red. Her clothes, partly her hair, her scythe -which was as big as her- and those strange petals around her. The only thing that didn't scream red, was her eyes, her silver eyes.

"Okayyyyy... Get her!" The others charged towards her, trying to get the upper-hand but Red -since everything about her was red- was faster and technically better than all of them. She weaved around using her scythe as a stopper and/or as a propellant to avoid attacks and charge her enemies, displaying both a great accuracy with her shooting and a decent martial art style to dispose of all her opponents. The last henchman flew and landed right by him.

"I have to say that you truly were worth every last cent, seriously." With a smirk on his face, he directly addressed the girl in Red.

"Well, Red, I think we can all say it's been a pretty eventful evening, and as much as I'd love to stick around...I'm afraid this is where we part ways. Au revoir!" He shoots a distraction shot immediately after, bolting towards the building where his escape would come, running as fast as he could towards the ladder. Unfortunately, Red was faster than him, and by the time he's on the roof she had already catched up with him.

'Tch, persistent'

Fortunately for him, his getaway just arrived. Turning, he took out from his coat the burn crystal he kept for dire situations like this.

"End of the line, Red!" The subsequent explosion was by no means small, but neither that big, however it provided the perfect window of time to get the hell out of here and jump into the bullhead, seeing how the female Huntsman he saw coming probably survived without a scratch from that explosion. Once inside, he quickly moved to the pilot seat where his temporary partner in crime was.

"We got a huntress!"

The pilotess looked at him and nodded, leaving the station open for him, while she went and dealt with the Huntsman, as the explosions were anything to go by.

Not even seconds after he sat down and took control of the station, he had to do quite the extreme evasive maneuver to dodge the numerous debris flying at them.
With a glance to the outside from his seat he could see the familiar looking blond huntsman who was glaring daggers at the fastly retreating Bullhead.
Thankfully, another skill on his very long and very diversified list was piloting, even in stressful situations like this.

Finally with some semblance of peace and not in the risk of capture or death, he sagged down in his seat and allowed himself to relax a little...

… After all, peace and quiet was something he didn't get so often. And now, those moments will get even rarer, thanks to his new partner in crime and her boss...