I do not own anything from RWBY, FGO, Marvel, DC, Wheel of Time, Fire Emblem, Sonic, etc. All rights remain with the original owners.

Theme: Dreams of an Absolution

Black flames covered the entire village, buildings lay in ruin, the lake of salt at the edge seemed to have turned black as India ink, and the fields were but ash and stubble. The boy, barely sixteen, struggled to his feet, battered and bruised, as the monster approached. Black welts had appeared all over the boy's body, and the skin had peeled from his palms in what looked like third-degree burns. His nose was bleeding, and a cut over his left eye blurred his vision. Many thoughts ran through his mind, though only two shouted louder than his anger and his fear, paradoxically: hopelessness, and relief. Though the remaining villagers and their princess managed to escape, how in the world would he get out of this death trap?

The monster stopped before him and kicked him square in the chest, further damaging his already broken ribs. With a resounding crack, the boy was sent flying and rolled down the hill. He barely managed to see his enemy, a black armored figure wrapped in black flames, before slamming into the ground face up. Now he couldn't move and it hurt to breathe. The clanking of the armored boots began once again as the monster started to advance on him.

"Get away from him!" a woman's voice screamed. The figure, barely a boy, managed to turn his head to see a pair of brown boots in his hazy, red-tinged vision and the telltale scraping of her blade being drawn from its sheath.

"Get out of here!" he attempted to warn, barely managing a croak.

"No, I've seen enough death and destruction for one lifetime, and you've done so much for us, I refuse to let you die."

"Move, girl." said the monster in a low, rumbling voice. There was no answer, only a shifting of leather on the handle. Then, a low, rumbling boom was heard, and the girl flew back. The boy could only hear the shattering of glass and two distant thuds.

"I'll kill you for that." he growled out. The monster walked up and drew a short sword with a jagged edge.

"Unlikely." He then flipped the weapon into a reverse grip and drove it straight into his abdomen. The plain was immense as the boy let out a blood-curling roar. "With this, the singularity is finished." Then the world went black.

With a gasp, the boy shot upright, safely in his bed, which had been drenched with sweat. He felt around his body searching for wounds, only for his hands to touch the scar tissue in his abdomen.

"Again." Checking the clock, it was insanely early in the morning. That didn't matter. He couldn't go back to sleep. So, he jumped off the bed and walked to his private shower under cover of darkness, but not before opening a small drawer and removing a small leather-bound book, marking down the fact he had the dream yet again for the nineteenth time this month. Opening the door to the shower, he peeled off his sweat-drenched garments and stood for a while under a freezing shower, letting the water pound down on the muscular physique of a young man standing around five feet eleven inches. Scars covered the body, most on his forearms from weapons training, but one was on his back, twinned with the stab wound on his abdomen. The scar was just to the left of his spine, barely missing the spinal cord as he was able to shift himself at the last minute to avoid being paralyzed. But not all was well, as his hand was having trouble gripping the lever that controlled the water. The boy grimaced; it looks like the healing of the nerve damage on his hands is still in progress. Typically, damage at the level he sustained would be irreparable, but for some reason, he was healing, albeit very slowly, as it has been nine standard months. He could have easily used his palm to force it down, but his pride and ego demanded he did it correctly.

Finally, he managed to grip the handle tight enough to be able to push the lever back into its "off" position. Towel-waisted, he stepped out of the shower and walked to the mirror, where he saw what he thought was a rather handsome, well-proportioned face. Studying his features, all he saw was his own face, tired and weary, but with a powerful, quiet hatred. Mouth flattening into a thin line, he checked on his physique, the same as he'd done during every morning's silent ritual, gauging his progress. Though he wasn't scrawny or underfed, he was thin, toned, as one accustomed to not only weights but to speed and agility as well.

The build of a warrior. He dressed in darkness, having moved back into the bedroom portion of the modestly sized suite. Black martial arts pants and shoes with blue wraps at the bottom keep them in place allowing for freedom of motion. Then, his gloves that felt unusually tight, but he felt strength return to his hands. Finally, he walked over to a bowl filled with water and pulled out two strings of rough hemp rope. He then began to wrap his hands with the rope that, once dried, would hit harder, suitable within the ring. After securing the wraps, he pressed the button for the window, showing an enormous junkyard landscape. His vantage within Sakaar's Grand Arena was relatively high. It was an interesting progression as he rose through the ranks to Champion level within less than a year, his skill, so far, unmatched.

"Well, time to get started."

(Music begins)

The boy began stretching slowly, feeling the muscles pull and tighten. He felt his bones pop as the pressure released. When he felt sufficiently stretched, and his body incredibly light, he began to work on his katas and other movements as a gradual warm-up. His movements were efficient, with no wasted energy. He could feel it; every strike and action was lighter, faster, and far more formidable than even just the day before. A low kick, then a clawed strike, followed by a sweeping leg strike. He could feel it. He was far superior to the boy who fought in that hellscape and the scared boy in that village. At the thought of the town, the rage began to build. His movements began to get more and more aggressive, but he didn't care. He continued, his strikes becoming increasingly chaotic and aggressive, losing focus until one blow created a small gust of wind that knocked over several kitchen appliances and stools.

At the sight of the destruction, he sighed.

"I did it again."

He began to clean up the mess and returned to training, much more mindful of his recently acquired tendencies.

(0:55)

Though he tried to keep his head empty, he couldn't help but remember a small village in the mountains that, despite being near the equator was relatively cool thanks to the mountain winds. He remembered the streets, relatively narrow and spotted with tiny one-story houses with the occasional two-story mixed in for good measure. He remembers them being so much bigger than he was. He remembers reaching up with his too-small hand, only for it to be grasped by a much larger one. Looking further upward, he can see a woman holding it. She turns and smiles down. She was a beautiful woman of about thirty with wavy jet black hair that reached the center of her back, caramel skin, and eyes. Walking alongside them both was an elderly man that he imagined to be just past sixty, with thick grey hair, but with the same eyes and skin as the woman. He remembers this so clearly; it was his first day of kindergarten, only a week before it all came crashing down.

There was a knock on the door, and the memory disappeared like a bubble that had been popped. The young man finished his kata, moving into the final position: heels together, palms down at his waist.

"Come in," he called, and the door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman with a clipboard and flanked by three guards.

"Your fight is coming up, please come with me."

(1:10)

He followed the perfunctory down the hall, passing by many training rooms where other warriors trained using various equipment before arriving in a preparation room. The boy breathed slowly and prepared to again put his life on the line. After a five-minute wait, the woman beaconed him to step onto a small dais that rose into the air through a small hatch. He closed his eyes as blinding white light filled his vision. When he finally opened his eyes, the young man saw a large man with a sword and metal tower shield at twelve o'clock. At his ten, there was another man, this one kind of thin but still compact with no weapon, and the boy realized he was a hand-to-hand combatant when he saw the brass knuckles on the man's hands. Finally, a woman with a trident standing ready at his two.

"Three on one." Before a small, cruel, and arrogant smile crossed his face, the boy quietly said, "I like these odds."

"Welcome one and all to the Sakaar Colosseum! Tonight, we have a special treat for you. A three-on-one match against our number two fighter: Raoul Kingsley! See who triumphs today! Fight!"

(1:37)

Raoul charged forward as the stands erupted into cheers, cracking the ground behind him. Wind gathering at his feet as he called upon his magic. Expelling his spell, Raoul charged. The man with the shield raised it to block Raoul's first blow. Raoul's fist slammed against the portion supposed to protect the face, denting it beyond repair. If he had hit the center, he would have shattered the man's arm while denting the shield. Not losing his momentum, Raoul used his left arm to grip the top of the tower shield, and wrenching his right arm free, he flipped over the man's head and drove his right heel in between the man's shoulder blades. Though the blow hit its mark, the awkward movement needed to perform the move lessened its power considerably. Landing on all fours, Raoul rolled to the left, moving into the guard of the shield warrior and rendering any incoming strike useless before coming out of the roll, standing up and striking the tall man in the solar plexus with his elbow and knocking the wind out of the man and lifting him about three feet into the air.

Just as the large man slammed down on the ground, Raoul was set upon by the woman and the martial arts warrior. Raoul could feel his body have a mind of its own for a split second as he deflected blows from both warriors, one after the other, dozens within ten seconds. When that feeling faded, Raoul found himself staring down the business end of the trident, coming straight for his face. Reaching his hands out, he caught the weapon in the empty spaces before it could skewer him. Sensing another strike coming from his left from the martial artist, Raoul snapped to his left by spinning, first to throw the trident away. Then he used his left arm, which he wrapped in the wind spell Air Gun, turned around, and delivered a vicious blow against his opponent's shoulder while their attack glanced off his abdomen. When his attack landed, Raoul released his wind magic in a concussive force that nearly pulverized the man's shoulder. Raoul' thanked the speed-enhancing side effect of his wind magic, what he lovingly called Air Walk, as the martial artist collapsed to the ground, out completely.

'Two left,' thought Raoul as the shield warrior finally managed to stand up and threw away his damaged shield, gripping his sword with both hands. Ambling before speeding up considerably, Raoul slid underneath and to the left of a trident strike from the female warrior. Once he was in range, he swept his right leg up in a strike taken from the Brazilian martial art Capoeira straight into her rib cage. Raoul could feel the bones crack and snap as the woman tumbled away and collapsed in pain. She was done.

Raoul finally stared down at the swordsman. The large man was now nervous as the blade trembled slightly in his grip. Deciding to end the match quickly, Raoul drew upon his mana once again to activate a different type of magic. Sparks flashed around his forearms before lighting began crackling around his fists and forearms. Smiling slightly, Raoul charged and met the sword strike from the large warrior head-on. Raoul then jumped and spun over the horizontal slash, and when he landed, he drove his lightning encrusted fist straight into the kidney of his opponent, dropping him instantly to his knees. Seeing that the man was still conscious, Raoul swung out with his leg and kicked the man in the jaw, precisely in the pressure point, and completely knocked him out. The colosseum around him erupted in cheering, and Raoul gave a Kung-Fu bow towards the unconscious bodies of his opponents, giving his respect for a well-fought match and recognizing their hard work. He then turned and headed towards the dais that lifted him to head back down into the stadium's underbelly.

(2:46)

More memories returned to him as he walked down the corridor to the waiting room. In all its peaceful glory, the beautiful valley, a pale hand grabbed his left hand. Looking to his left, he saw her. She was beautiful. He remembers this scene. She had woken him up early in the pre-dawn hours, pulling him out of bed. She had taken his hand in hers and dragged him up the stairs to the castle's roof. Her beautiful brown hair flowed behind her; her blue jacket clung to her body, showing her athletic form despite the open coat. Small white earrings dangled off her ears, a gift from him he made from a jewel they found in a cave during one of their many expeditions.

They had reached the castle's roof just as the sky was starting to light. In the distance, Raoul could see several men in watchtowers strategically positioned around the village. They sat on the tiles of the roof facing the sea, where the sun rises.

"Isn't it beautiful?" asked the girl. Raoul saw her face. The wind obscured her beautiful amber eyes, but her smile filled him with contentment that he hadn't known in over a decade.

"Yes, yes it is." Replied Raoul as he squeezed her hand once. She slipped close to him and laid her head on his shoulder as the sky continued to get brighter. Raoul's heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath. He decided to try his luck. Using his free hand, he reached around and touched her opposite cheek. There was no real hiding what he was trying, but she didn't say anything, only moving her left hand up to press his hand to her cheek and shifting her body, so she was more front on with him. Her right hand reached up to push away strands of her hair as they leaned in.

As their lips touched each other, the sun finally decided to make his appearance. They finally got to this point after three months of official dating and six months of courtship. How sad that it will all be reduced to ashes in a month.

(3:15)

The memory faded, and a pang of sadness enveloped Raoul once again. He did not have time to dwell on this as the doors opened to one of the training rooms. He must've made his way there out of habit but wasn't aware of it. Weirdly enough, this one was empty today. Looking around the training room, he saw various machines with different weights attached, cardio machines, training dummies, and holograms, whatever a warrior needed. Raoul stretched once again and began to fill a regeneration tube for him to use when he was done. He did a regular workout of calisthenics and a few weights before getting to his actual training.

(3:42)

Raoul began to train, and train, and train, and train. He became a machine moving like water would over rock, fluid. Raoul ran his custom katas and shadow training until he was sick of them. He then worked on body hardening of all types until his body ached. He ran training programs repeatedly, trying to improve his score or timing by even just one millisecond. He needed it for when he inevitably faced that monster again. But, his stamina wasn't unlimited, as he eventually wore himself out after hours of non-stop training.

Leaving the training room, Raoul ventured towards his room for a night's rest. He saw several foodstuffs on the small kitchen table. Making a simple supper, he showered after a brutal ice bath and stretched to keep his muscles loose before climbing into bed. His eyes closed, and he entered the land of dreams, completing an average day for him in the Colosseum.

(end)

Waking up the alarm, Raoul rose and noted that there was no nightmare this time. A knock came at the door. Grumbling about how early it was, Raoul walked to the door and threw it open, only to face an older man.

"Grandmaster, do you need something?" the man sighed.

"Today's the day, the day your contract is up. Honestly, I hate to lose a fighter like you." Raoul tensed, ready for action, but the Grandmaster shrugged, "But a deal's a deal, so let's get this over with." Raoul eyed the man suspiciously as he walked into the room. Raoul knows that the man is a tyrant and a cheater. Some of his matches against the Hulk were rigged to make Raoul lose when he was close to winning. All to keep the illusion of an invincible champion. Raoul currently knows of one other person who this happens to, speaking of which, he would like to duel Kevin Hunter one of these days, just to settle once and for all who was better as most of their duels were draws. Raoul sat on a chair while a perfunctory began the procedure to remove the obedience disk from Raoul's neck; all the while, the Grandmaster grumbled to himself about how he was losing two of his top fighters in a single day.

"Who else is leaving?" asked Raoul, indicating that he did hear the Grandmaster.

"The Asgardian Half-Breed." Raoul nodded slowly. He then felt a cut on his neck.

"Ow!" Turning his head instinctually, Raoul reached up to cover the cut. It should've healed quickly, but the instinct is still there.

"All done." Said the official, "You're free to go." Raoul stood up and stood face to face with the Grandmaster and nodded towards him.

"Get out of here before I change my mind." Grumbled the Grandmaster before walking out the room. Not wasting any time, Raoul dug through his drawers and packed his bag, just a camping backpack—looking back at the apartment that served as his home for nearly a standard year. Sakaar was surrounded by wormholes, which meant that time dilation made it feel much longer. He had only aged one physical year despite being here thousands of years. Indeed Sakaar was a strange planet; he turned off the lights and closed the door.

Outside, he looked around the goods spaceport to find a ship to hitchhike to the spot where his sister was to pick him up.

"Looks like you had the same idea." Said a deep baritone voice. Raoul reacted instinctively and whipped around, lightning crackling in his hand only to come face to face with an outstretched hand cloaked in red flames. "Whoa, whoa, you want to do this here?" Raoul saw the tall and powerfully built man and then relaxed.

"Damn it, Kevin, I almost blasted you."

"Like it would have done anything to me." Raoul clicked his tongue in annoyance; if anything, the man in front of him could take a hit. He was a tank. "What's got you so jumpy?"

"I don't trust large crowds and spaceports." Kevin looked at him before realization crossed his face.

"Ahh, you're worried that you'll get pickpocketed or something?"

"…..yeah." Raoul sighed and placed his hands on his hips as the monster's image flashed through his mind. "But taking a ship to get close to Earth is far more difficult than I thought."

"Earth? I think I know just the guy to get us there."

"Us?" asked Raoul.

"Yeah, I don't have any intention of going back to Asgard for a long while, so mind if I ride with you for a bit?"

"Fine by me. Now, who's your contact?" Kevin smiled.

"Let's get off this planet first, then we'll talk."

R ? ? ?

AN: This is a reupload as I thought that the original needed some adjustments. The recommendations for changes came from Kaiserin on the Mirlnir Family Discord Server so many thanks to him.