The horrific scream of tearing metal was deafening, roaring flames so powerful that they reverberated through his chest, the groans of a dying ship made his bones feel brittle as cracked glass. Hansel could only watch passively as the Luna Wolf ship in its fiery death rattle scrape across a continent and into the sea, the clouds having been banished with a storm of earthy sand and dirt blacking out the sun.
Grimmish monsters still flocked like carrion birds, gunfire still striking them from the skies, their bolters would not last forever and the horde of Grimm was endless even for Astartes. Time flowed like the water that half of the ship steadily disappeared into, earth piled upon its ancient metal until mountains covered its grave with no evidence of its existence, save for the canyon that now led to it etched across the land.
Hansel gasped, sitting up in his hospital bed, beads of sweat lining his scarred body. The Korpsman stared at the wall in front of him, his thumb pressed into his healing wound until he felt pain that would make a civilian cry out, he was awake. For days now these dreams have filled his nights, becoming clearer and more detailed as the hours fled in the day, bringing forth revelations at night. He lied back slowly against the wet spot that outlined his form, Hansel felt indignity at having to be cared for in this cursed room.
The hospital was bordering treason with this internment, these fruitless tests to analyze the organs placed and altered in his body. From his initial disgust he realized the honor that the Inquisition bestowed him, to be invested in. He was selected to be made into a finer weapon than any guardsmen could pray to be, chosen by The Emperor himself for this sacred task. Hansel wondered if he should entertain this momentary fidelity to Beacon's Headmaster any longer, for The Emperor himself gave him a task. This task, one that he struggled to put into words, to avoid sounding insane and to be executed, branded corrupted. How could he explain this to his fellow soldiers of the God Emperor? How could he explain this to Ruby?
Fumbling with the thin scroll in his hands, Hansel pulled up her profile on the queer translucent screen, gently pressing his thumb against her picture. The screen changed suddenly with a phone icon dancing back and forth, his fingers froze, unable to decide what to press so he could cancel the call.
The screen changed once more, his breath caught in his chest when Ruby appeared, rubbing her eyes with the sleeping mask she owned atop her head, "Hans? Nghh, what time is it?"
"I didn't mean to," Hansel felt his cheeks become flustered, cursing himself for interrupting her rest after she spent days waiting for him to reawaken, her eyes still darkened with restlessness.
"It's okay." She laid her cheek against her pillow, her scroll propped up, almost as if they were in the same room together, "What were you thinking about?"
He relaxed, huffing air from his nose, setting his face into the stereotypical Kriegsmen stoicism, "I was…thinking about you."
"Oh~" The corners of her lips turned up, her silver eyes sparkled as her perfectly white teeth became bare, and his heart fluttered with the soft giggle that came from the glowing screen, "What about me?"
Hansel sighed softly, his throat tightened, these words were not for distance speaking, they were heavy and with great burden. How could he word it to her? That the Holy God Emperor, His Exalted Magnificence of Mankind, Master of the Stars, Guardian and Father of Mankind had bestowed upon him, a lowly expendable wretch from a tainted bloodline of sin and repentance with such a task that no other champion of greatness was bestowed in his stead?
That'd be crazy.
"Nothing," The taste of a lie felt bitter upon his tongue, such terrible sin, "I just missed you is all…Ruby?"
"Mhmm, yes?" The girl yawned, her fist covering her mouth, "-aaaah, yeah?"
The Korpsman blinked, the slightest moment of hesitation, "If I were- if I had to disappear for a while, on a quest, would you be alright?"
She was fully awake now, her silver eyes searching his face like a puzzle, "What? Hans, what are you taking about?"
'Frak.' Hansel glanced towards the light of the moon, his mind momentarily drifting to the canyon that plagued his dreams, the mountains that loomed in his nightmares, the fateful caverns ran deep. His task was daunting, no fear in his heart but doubt in his mind that he alone could accomplish his mission, he'd need to find a way to explain.
"The enemies of the Imperium are here. I must pursue them. It is my duty." This was no lie, yet it was not the truth either, such devious deflecting he subjected his beloved rose so red, what terrible punishment could befit this dishonesty?
"Hans, I know," Her lips were pressed in a thin line, her tone was oddly like his, her bright beautiful silver eyes were serious with an odd sense of deadly calm, "I know the badguys from the stars are here, I know this isn't a game or some simple monster to kill. You're not going in alone, I'm coming with you and so is everybody else."
The Kriegsman was surprised, his cheeks burnt a bit hotter from the way Ruby spoke, she had the disposition that reminded him the way a Kriegsman would speak but still littered with her optimism. It made his chest fluttered especially at the idea of her donning a uniform and marching by his side to war upon barren fields to slaughter His foes.
Damn it was hot.
"Ruby-"
"Don't 'Ruby' me, mister." Her brow narrowed and her whispered tone was firm, commanding with a hint of anger, "I might be the bubbly cute one of my team, but I'm not a dumb kid in over her head that can't handle herself. So, don't even try that with me. My sister does it, my partner does it, my teachers do it, don't you dare do it."
Hansel stared dumbstruck, she had unloaded on him like a heavy stubber, had something happened at school? Something that has displeased his rose so red?
Ruby's lip had trembled slightly, her tired eyes had been reddened around the softer flesh, her pale skin looked paler, "Are you all right Ruby?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, nodding her head, sighing heavily through her nostrils, "I've been busy with my schoolwork, everyone, even Professor Goodwitch has been treating me like broken glass. They…I just…I don't think they respect me."
"Respect you? Why not?"
"I get that I can be pretty emotional, and immature, and hyper." Ruby glanced around her room, at her teammates, then towards the door that led to team JNPR's dorm, "But I can take care of myself, I can handle things pretty good on my own. It's just that…well…since you nearly died, they've been different."
"Hmm..."
Hansel felt lost, why does she care about what they think? Yang was half her blood at least, he supposed she wanted her sister's respect much like he had sought the approval of the Watchmasters in training, to be approved for holy battle. He was certain Gretel respected him too, even if she was livelier on Terranis. Julius might respect him, or at least be fond of him. Saladin was distant, preferable. To hell with Nicholas, the stupid drunk degenerate.
"I respect you." He said instinctively.
Ruby's delectable pink lips curled up into a small smile, splitting to reveal her perfect white teeth once more but in a silly broad grin she tried hiding behind her hand, something Hansel noted to induce a positive reaction.
"Thanks Hansel, you're sweet." She removed her hand, once more her demeanor became serious as she scrutinized him, "Don't think I forgot what we were talking about-"
'Damn.' He thought dismayed.
"-what were you talking about earlier, you acted like you alone are looking for the heretics. You're not, I'm with you, so is my team, your team, and I bet all of the Kingdoms too. We're going to stop them."
She had spoken with conviction he thought she lacked, plainly and without fear, there was a small humble feeling of guilt that washed over him, he hadn't truly respected Ruby before and would not make the same mistake.
"By the grace of The Golden Throne, and with His mercy, His will be done." Hansel said, his eyes concentrated on her, etching her into his mind like scripture, praising with newfound respect.
"The Emperor protects, right?" She yawned again, her eyes were half-lidded, "I gotta go back to sleep, but…mhmm, I'm placing mine in its charger. You can prop yours up against your bed, and it'll be like we're together."
Hansel placed the device against the plastic railing of his bed, he attached a power cord, hoping the machine spirit would not mind his lack of ceremonial rite, the picture had shifted slightly until it chose the horizontal view. Ruby had done the same with hers but propped up on her pillow.
Her sweet smile and lovely eyes greeted Hansel with affection, he suddenly felt himself greatly missing her by his side, "I'll see you in the morning Hansel, goodnight- uhh, gute nacht?"
"Yes, gute nacht, Träum süss, mein Rosenrot." Once she had relaxed into steady blissful sleep he had tortured his mind, once more in the rut he had started with, how to execute His will without sounding insane.
/
Miles away in Beacon Academy, within team RWBY's dorm Yang lied silently, staring up at her sister's bunk, her heart wounded. How could Ruby think such a thing? That she wasn't respected? That she of all people did not respect her, her own sister. Her lilac eyes stung, and she swallowed hard with a guilty feeling washing over her, has she failed her little sister so badly?
Weiss shut her eyes tightly to imprison the tears streaming down her cheeks, her fists balling. She had been horrible to Ruby for so long, demeaning, and rude, frankly she wasn't certain if she deserved her friendship. They had become close as friends, almost akin to sisters, her friends seemed like they would replace the abyss where all but Winter left. Yet Ruby did not believe her own partner respected her?
Blake felt her cheeks glow hotly, exhaling through her nose with exasperation. She had seen Ruby as this ball of innocence like most, perhaps she was, but that had blinded her. Ruby was more than just innocent; she was noble and brave unlike anyone else she had ever known. Ruby was the first besides Yang to look past her race to see a friend in need, and she had abandoned them out of fear, she had runaway like a coward. Now she had to face that she had disrespected Ruby horribly, not out of malice but with this misplaced belief that she needed to be protected from the world she was now facing up against willingly. How could she think so lowly of her, who was she to take pity on someone so brave?
Ruby slept with peaceful calm that many across the galaxy would kill, perhaps sell their very souls for. She dreamt of a faraway reality, one where there was peace enough for her to have a home with the man she loved, this stranger from across the stars. She had fantasized Hansel was kissed by the sun with warmer livelier skin, choosing to allow his handsome face a chance to bathe in the sun instead of being bound by the deathly visage of his people's preferred face.
Whilst she dreamt, her arms subconsciously coiled around her chest, in her dream she clutched a laughing child lovingly. Her child was a daughter that had her traits but with some of Hansel's, her plump little cheeks curled up as she giggled girlishly. With one child in her embrace, Ruby imagined Hansel with a son close to his side, showing him how to sight his Hellgun, pointing to the selector switch, to the energy meter. Boyish and attentive, curious little silver eyes watching his father with his utmost attention.
This was perfection.
There was a sudden shift, the world around her had disappeared and she felt a horrible emptiness. Her eyes grew wide, the sky was on fire with a great ship that dwarfed the largest Atlesian vessel, its design was intricately detailed in ways that made her feel humble under its grandeur, the ship was a flying cathedral that unleashed hellish fury.
Her heart was racing, she witnessed a horde of Grimm larger than she had believed was ever recorded. They were numerous, like a monochrome tide, chasing after the large ship as it descended in a thunderous crash that sent a shockwave so intense that the horde, though miles away had all flown back. She feared being around so many snarling beasts, weaponless, so small within this ocean of nightmarish demons.
They seemingly disappeared in a haze, the world around was sped up, night and day flashed by the plants grew bold then withered unto death, only to be reborn in passing moments. She watched the earth settle over the ruins of the great ship, they began to form mountains, a canyon even.
Ruby awoke with a gasp, sweat beads formed on her forehead, the heart beneath her breast was racing at breakneck speeds. Her breathes started to steady themselves, her silver eyes locked back on her scroll, back to Hansel. Her hand clenched, instinctively wanting to reach for his hand to hold, fear gripped her heart, the feeling having been similar when she saw him fall after taking bullets for her.
The dream felt different, it was not something she would've ever thought of it was sudden and other worldly. Never in her life did she think so much Grimm could gather and chase after one thing for what seemed like an endless torrent of monsters. What force could take on such an unstoppable tide of merciless hatred, their unholy wrath far beyond the comprehension of any natural born creature.
Ruby felt too afraid to sleep. The thought alone made her feel unworthy of the task a Huntress would take, to be drowned in the terror of an endless Grimm nightmare. Though as she felt these feelings of fear, a gentle embrace washed over her, its feeling familiar, so comforting. She now felt safer than she had in years, the warming embrace eased her eyes back into a peaceful slumber, returning to her dream of an adoring husband and loving children.
Unaware, she was, of the subtle tremble of her bangs as if her hair had been stroked with a mother's care, she had not even noticed the wisps of golden lights that danced away fleetingly across her shoulder.
/
General Ironwood sighed with the urge to throw himself off his own ship. The Space Marines had destroyed the research in the VDF loaned base, the VDF themselves were also barred from the tombish bunker's lower levels. Only the Death Korps had been down there, hauling crates of candles and incense that would take years to fully go through. No other human or machine was allowed.
The Death Korps troopers were an oddly disciplined lot of child soldiers, the General felt reviled when he recalled the boyish faces of the two unmasked soldiers, they were crisp and orderly. They kept their faces covered, menacingly staring, unnerving even his officers with their inhuman emptiness, almost as bad as Cestus' smugness. Though he wished that were the worst he had to deal with at the moment. One act of kindness, and ten minutes later he was being married to an eighteen-year-old child soldier, shotgun wedding style, by a demi-god chaplain, in front of everyone. It was humiliating, it was incredibly jarring, an absolute curveball that struck him in the face.
This however, this was so much worse.
The child soldier- his wife, 345678-435980- Frieda, Frieda Ironwood. His skin crawled, he was disgusted by himself as he tried to strain his eyes away from the girl, maybe if he had been MUCH younger he would've been very willing but now-
"Won't you join me? Dear Husband?"
Whoever had given this girl a garter belt and stockings was a DEADMAN, he'd shoot them himself and scatter their ashes across the barren wastes of Atlas' snowy ridges. He was a man of high morals and of a dedicated background of discipline, he sacrificed human comforts to an extent he could tolerate, all for his people to survive-
"Its awfully cold, won't you join me to provide warmth?" Frieda was laid out on the General's bed, her head and shoulders propped up lying on his pillows, she had arched her knees and presented her outstretched legs, showing off the lingerie she had procured. Still, she wore her mask and helmet. Her fingers were tracing her inner thighs slowly, leading down between her-
"No-" Ironwood grunted before his back hit the mattress, the girl had a surprising enough speed to pull him down to their- his bed. Despite Frieda's size she was successfully pinning the Atlesian General down, at least until he used any strength to try and throw her off.
He strained his eyes, searching the wall opposite of his bed for the answers that could save his shot to hell dignity. Frieda sat straddling his waist, her fingers slipped into his uniform and groped along the part of his waist that was still human flesh, oddly enough, her fingers traced along the divide between his mortal flesh and cybernetic body.
"Aren't you…put off by my body?" Ironwood asked as he lied helpless, the young woman undoing his shirt with surprisingly gentle hands.
"Only such a valued hero would deserve such cybernetics." Her hips started to grind against his stiffened crotch, she leaned down over General Ironwood, her breasts brushing over his human and cyborg chest, "I want your spawn. I want to continue your heroic line."
Ironwood mentally deflated, the young woman certainly needed help when it came to bedroom talk. With a sigh of defeat, he wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped her onto the bed, and threw off his shirt. Frieda gasped and curiously craned her neck as Ironwood slid down and looked up from between her thighs, his face hovering over her panties.
"Take off the mask and helmet."
"Its tradition that-"
"No."
/
"Vendetta, concentrate." Rancor held his hand out, channeling psychic energy towards his fellow condemned Astartes, they the Blackshield Deathwatch were fatalists in their nature but to die without it being in true battle would be a shame, in their years of service they had to trust each other with intimate secrets that go beyond the secrecy of oaths, "concentrate on your name, Vendetta, Vendetta of the Black Shield."
It was with great fortune the human natives of this world and the Imperials left them in peace, for now. The sight of the ancient icons of the Luna Wolves had devastating impacts for one member of the Deathwatch kill team.
Vendetta screamed in inhuman agony, his bare head was now clutched in his hands, his helmet lies discarded. The veins of his head pulsed fiercely, his fangs bared as he snarled and hissed with barely contained fury, his eyes milky and clouded with blood pouring from his tear ducts. He swings his fists wildly and stares at Penance, his eyes narrow and he screams, "HOOOOORRRRRRRRRRUUUUSSSSSSSSS!"
Rancor surges his telepathic power, forcing Vendetta to freeze in place, though his form started to push the barriers of his power. Penance and Retribute could only assist by chanting litanies to help bolster Rancor, perhaps to bring Vendetta back from his brush with the Black Rage. Of their team of four, Vendetta was the youngest, found upon some Golden Throne forsaken world. His armor drenched with brownish coagulating blood, his hands and blade caked with it, half mad with barely audible mumbles. Mercy could have been taken upon him, perhaps it should've, but Rancor felt there was something that could be salvaged and to a degree he was right.
To a degree he was wrong.
"State your name, state your name I command it at once!" Rancor's bellow became almost ethereal, in the psychic battle he was an enlightening torch bearer battling the encroaching darkness. He was wading through the depths of his brother's mental subconscious, these muddled memories and histories being mixed with the defect caused in his line of Astartes, scenes and sights from a bygone era of greatness and horror that has led to the galaxy of today.
These sights might have been maddening, outright confusing for the youngest Astartes, these sights however were all too familiar for Rancor. Such is the curse of immortality for one who was prepared to die, one who in many ways decided that he would die, but the sin of being related to such terrible traitors required a death worthy of redemption. Until his time of redemption could be achieved, he would not so easily allow himself to be killed by lesser beings that plague The Imperium, he would not abandon his brothers, especially not the one he has taken under his wing, his charge.
With his focused, Rancor attempts to slow down Vendetta's rushing thoughts to trap him into one singular vision instead of chasing him throughout the long-lost ages. Thousands of years of training and sorcerous arcane arts were at the fingertips of Rancor, in the material world his hands seized Vendetta's snarling face, psychic energy flowed from Rancor's eyes into the eyes of Vendetta, suddenly the mad Astarte's arms fell to his sides, his face still wracked with fury.
Upon the ethereal plane in the recesses of Vendetta's mind, Rancor watched with immense aw at the detailed memory, so pure in its detail as if it was recently seen by a Remembrancer. Dwarfing the age old Astartes in His grandeur, stood The Great Angel, The Brightest One, in His golden armor that reflected the rays of the nearest stars with glimmering beauty. Long flowing was His mane of brilliant golden hair. His wings cast such a shadow that one would no longer need to squint to gaze upon his magnificence. His smile so pure and genuine that even Rancor felt a nostalgic tug at his lips, if he still possessed tear ducts his surely would've flowed like rivers.
"Sanguinis…" Rancor resisted the urge to kneel, though He was not the Primarch of Rancor, He, Sanguinis, was so beloved by all faithful Imperials that even Astartes not of His lineage knew to be humble when mentioning the greatest of saints.
The Great Angel stood proud over his Legiones Astartes, the Blood Angels, clad in the ancient armor, bearing the ancient armaments of the Pre-Heresy Imperium. With his momentary lapse in concentration, the vision shifted once more, and Rancor cursed himself fiercely as he tried to pin Vendetta once more in a singular span of time.
Like grasping hold of a slippery eel was his task, forcing Vendetta's mind to bend to his will, the psychic plane once more settled. Upon this new plane there was war, The Great Angel fought against the tide of traitors and heretics that dared to tread upon The Cradle of Mankind, in open bloody combat did bolt shells and lasgunfire light up the sky.
The visage of Sanguinis was no linger so clear, this time Rancor could now make out where Vendetta was. His fellow Black Shield was in the form of his Primarch, the form of Sanguinis flickered like a spotty pict-recorder, Sanguinis would appear one moment, Vendetta the next, sometimes they would try to appear at once and overlap each other. The genetic memory of Sanguinis was starting to overwhelm and consume Vendetta, Rancor raised his hand and manifested a sword in his off hand, once more to do battle for his Battle-brother's mind. From his fingertips came a stream of lightening, the electric arcs spiraled and formed into one beam.
The Blade Encarmine caught the arc of lightening in an offhanded parry, furious were the blue eyes of this Sanguinis hallucination. Snarled was The Great Angel's perfected features, primal with fury yet ever elegant, his body shifted and with a flick of his wrist, several Sons of Horus took the devastating bolt of lightning, their armor fell apart as the super humans inside were incinerated.
"Oh, bloody hell…" Rancor held his ground, Vendetta appeared in the place of Sanguinis, his eyes for a moment recognized him yet once more the visage of Sanguinis overtook him. "Vendetta! Fight it! State your name, state your name I command it at once!"
Rancor took hold of the memory and cleared the battlefield of Astartes and Imperial Army, he willed the ground beneath the apparition of Sanguinis to become arresting mud, in an effort to trap The Great Angel.
The Great Angel propelled himself into the air with His magnificent wings, sending a tide of mud flying. Rancor's eyes widened, the apparition had learned from their last encounter to be wary for Rancor's tricks, long ago he had dispelled the possibility of the Black rage being merely an unconscious defect and once more he was surprised by its ability to adapt.
Rancor raised a barrier of adamite nets to bring down the winged Primarch's ghost, only for the nets to be slashed apart with flippant ease. The Black Shield steadied himself, planting his feet in the mud, solidifying to brace himself for the coming strike, their blades clashed, Rancor's manifested blade groaned under the weight of The Blade Encarmine.
The ground broke and Rancor slid through the earthy terrain, blocking and parrying the blows that came from the furious Primarch's ghostly hallucination. Rancor manifested Imperial Army troopers, their lasguns blasted The Great Angel in the back with rapid fire beams, with a single flutter of his wings the soldiers were stripped of their armor and flesh, disintegrating into nothingness. Rancor grunted, his whole body flung into a rocky hill, too slow to cushion himself on the psychic plane.
Menacingly, The Great Angel stalked towards and pointed at Rancor accusingly, "HOW COULD YOU BETRAY US ALL!?"
"You are not Sangunius! You are Vendetta of the-"
"YOUR HOLLOW WORDS FALL UPON DEAF EARS! SPEAK TO I! SANGUNIUS! LOYAL SON OF MY FATHER!" His blade was raised high, daunting with its splendor, such gorgeous craftsmanship meant to bisect and eviscerate its victims with laser-like efficiency. Rancor however denied himself the honor of psychic death from the end of this blade, with both hands he manifested a great maul to block the devastating blow.
Rancor kicked the Primarch apparition in his chest, staggering the hallucination as for a moment Vendetta appeared, his eyes flickered between the blue of Sangunius and the green of Vendetta. Even in his true form he still struck at Rancor, striking and parrying returned blows, snarling, glaring hatefully.
"HORRRRUS!" Vendetta screamed, his voice and the voice of his Primarch competing as he spoke, "OUR FATHER'S GRAND VISION! HUMANITY AS ONE! YOU RUINED IT!"
Rancor lashed out with a psychic whip, wrapping around the wrist of Vendetta, he pulled the sword arm forward and struck the at the blade itself. Vendetta grasped in the air, his visage once more flickering into Sangunius, he gasped when Rancor's fist collided with his face, another strike spun the Astartes as the form of Sangunius failed to manifest.
With his psychic grip, he tears Vendetta away from the darkness of the Black Rage, the Librarian's strength and faith drives the darkness back to the recesses of Vendetta's mind where it would fester until it was triggered or until it gained in its strength. In real space Rancor felt his nose bleed, odd as it was, this was the first time in centuries he had truly bled.
Panting, Rancor stood over Vendetta, "S-state your name, state your name I-I command it at once."
Vendetta fell to a knee, his head hanging as he panted with blood dripping onto the floor, "I…I-I am Vendetta of the Black Shield, I am the Astartes of no Primarch, of no sigil, I am The Emperor's weapon to wage war with. I am a Black Shield."
Rancor drew an audible snort and spat out the congealing blood, already his body was healing the minor hemorrhaging, something that would be possibly life threatening to a lowly unaltered human, an annoyance for a Librarian Astartes. His younger Black Shield brother kept his eyes tightly shut, "Your affliction was more severe this time around, this ancient place makes you a threat to us all."
"For now on, brother, you must stay beyond the border of this hanger," Penance spoke, not with a tone of chiding or of chastisement, rather one of understanding the consequences of Vendetta bearing sight to Luna Wolf iconography, "We need someone to pull watch anyways."
"I will fulfill this duty brothers, I am sorry," Vendetta accepted his once discarded helm from Retribute, the faithful Astartes grasping his shoulder for a moment before releasing him, "if the native heathens return and demand entry?"
A deep chuckle came from Rancor, "Access denied. A Tech-priest had the nerve to tell me that once."
Penance watched the younger Black Shield retrace his steps out of the reclaimed hanger, even with their eyes shut the Astartes could navigate purely off the memory of a room so long as it had not been drastically altered. His gait was not one of a mournfully kicked dog, sent away by his masters, rather he seemed relieved to quickly pace out of the hanger, this graveyard of a bygone era of heroes.
"A shame, really," Retribute muttered through his vox-channel with his fellow elder Astartes, "that the loyal sons of Sanguinis must suffer so."
"He is at least close with his Primarch." Rancor felt a bite of jealously, one so faint yet its sting hit a sore spot no armor could ever cover. He hadn't truly felt envious of Vendetta, he could not deny however that deep down he longed for the days before The Arch-traitor turned the grandest of dreams into a nightmare where none could wake. He longed for the familiar world now lost to him, the father and Primarch that fostered such great culture and knowledge.
All lost to the flames, all is dust.
/
Scene 1
Chibi Hansel stands on a ladder, his great coat covered with a monochrome-colored maid apron, dusting off the dusty and cracked sign, "Chibi Korps of RWBY".
Chibi Nicholas and Chibi Saladin replace the lightbulbs meant for the sign, as Chibi Julius lounged next to Chibi Coco, winking and shooting fingerguns.
Chibi Edison cuffs his metallic chin, Chibi Starza tapped a mechanical finger on a laid schematic of the Chibi Korps of RWBY sign, both Tech-Priests utterly confounded.
Chibi Ruby walks around the unlit sign, she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear as she notices, and enormous plug lied on the floor with the socket it was meant for right above it.
Without thinking, she plugs in the sign.
Chibi Nicholas and Saladin screamed as they were both electrocuted and blown off the sign, crash-landing right-on top of Chibi Julius with a loud thud.
Chibi Hansel tried to cover his eyes, falling backwards off his ladder, landing headfirst into a bucket. The undignified Korpsman started to wander around blindly, trying to get his head unstuck.
Chibi Ruby covered her mouth as the two crispy Imperial Guard bois moaned in agony, their bodies smoking, Chibi Julius was out cold.
The two Tech-Priests starred incredulously and flipped their worktable, four years of researching why the sign had gone out, wasted.
Transition 1.
Chibi Hansel wanders onto the screen, spinning and stumbling, he turns towards the screen and knocks himself out hitting the fourth wall.
Scene 2.
Chibi Ruby sat silently at her family's dinner table, her silver eyes flicked back and forth between Chibi Hans, her father, Uncle Qrow, and Chibi Yang as she snickers.
"So, Hansel," Chibi Taiyang kept his chest puffed out, sitting up straighter as he tries to make himself look bigger, "what are your intentions with my daughter?"
"Do you have a plan laid out? A career or even a bank account setup?" Chibi Qrow demanded, cuffing his chin, stroking the hairs on his chin.
"Intentions? Plans?" Chibi Hansel asked, his fork full of food clinking against the metal plate of his gas mask, "About?"
Chibi Taiyang rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh, "Are you and Ruby going to work together and get married? How do you intend to pay for that?"
"Oh." Chibi Hansel wipes the metal skull plate of his mask, "When at the proper age, I intend to marry and impregnate your daughter, then someday die in the heat of battle in a holy war."
Chibi Taiyang and Qrow drop their forks, followed by their jaws.
Chibi Yang starts to laugh heartily as she pats Chibi Ruby's shoulder.
Chibi Ruby groans as she hides her face in her hands, her father and uncle flip the table and brawl with Chibi Hansel in a cloud of fists and feet.
Transition 2.
Chibi Sly Marbo pops his head up from under the screen, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Scene 2.
Chibi Yang cracked her knuckles, then her neck, her lilac eyes turn crimson red. She raises her fists and readies her stance, "You're going down."
Chibi Sly Marbo stares ahead with a seemingly blank expression, rolling a cigar around between his teeth.
Chibi Yang blasts off into the air, her fist raised for a downward strike, "YEEEEAAAAHH-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAA-" In an instant Chibi Sly Marbo zipped right past Chibi Yang, spinning her in the air.
"Ahhhhhh!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" In three successive strikes Chibi Sly Marbo zipped back and forth in the air, spinning Chibi Yang so fast that a tornado manifested and carried her off into the Forever Fall Forest.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" Triumphant, Chibi Sly Marbo ascends into the dark vacuum of space, bringing dread to all enemies of Mankind.
Transition 3.
Chibi Saladin sits in a sandbox building a sandcastle, a siren wails, he jumps into the air and swan dives into the sand, his legs twitch in the air for a second before falling over.
Scene 3.
Chibi Saladin curls a lock of Chibi Weiss' long flowing hair, recling as they both enjoy a picnic.
"Your hair flows like pouring milk and is smoother than the finest of silks~" He whispers with a grin.
Chibi Weiss giggles, stroking his chin, "Keep sweet talking me handsome."
Chibi Saladin sniffs the hair in his hand and wraps an arm around her waist, "Your form is so elegant that even the greatest ballerinas in the history of Mankind are put to shame!"
Chibi Weiss scoffs, "Now you're just being ridi-"
Both Chibi Weiss and Chibi Saladin scream as they are suddenly sucked into a tornado.
"Hey guys how's the date!?" Chibi Yang calls as the three chibis spin off towards Vale.
Transition 4.
Chibi Hansel pops his head out from a foxhole, looking left and right before popping back down.
Scene 4.
Chibi Ruby groaned softly as she tried her best to hold the heroic pose she had chosen for Chibi Hansel's sketch, "Ugggh, can you hurry up Hans? My arm is cramping…"
Chibi Hansel looked up from his sketch book, "Silence, focus on your stance."
"But-"
"You chose it." Chibi Hansel sketched rapidly, glancing up every so often, just as he was finishing the sketch…
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Suddenly a tornado appeared from off screen, the tornado disappeared and out from it; Chibis Saladin, Weiss, and Yang slammed into the ground around Chibi Ruby, groaning in agony.
Chibi Ruby sighed with relief, "Wow, it's a good thing we didn't get hit."
"Hold your stance, I need to add them in."
"What!? Why!?"
"They're apart of it now."
Chibi Ruby scowls and Rosewarps to tackle Chibi Hansel off screen.
/
I'd like to thank you, the audience, for taking the time to read this story once more as it is inconsistently updated, it really does mean a great deal to hear if you enjoy or didn't a particular chapter or concept. Honestly, it just sweeps away all the dreadful affairs of daily life to find out I helped someone out with their day with this silly fanfiction.
I'd like to in particular thank Scorched Ajax for the inspiring PM talking about how often he reads the story even while serving overseas and working on his own fanfictions.
Doggyniichan really helped inspire me to get this chapter out and not continuously work on it to get past 20K words.
To the friend of Kevie, who had his Discord account deleted, Kevie is extremely thankful that you introduced them to DKRWBY and I'm extremely grateful for you doing that.
There are plenty of good reviews out there that deserve mention but I can only include so many without it being a chapter's length. I'm sure there will be a great deal of critique over the depiction of the Fabulous Fucking Hawk Boi but bear in mind I'm not going to by a whole book out of order with the series to write one scene.
Also, fuck GW, honestly, fuck those guys. The talented members of this community go out of their ways to not only pay tribute to a franchise they love but introduce a lot of people to it, like with the Astartes animation that was top notch, and everything SODAZ does.
They struck a very sensitive nerve with what they did to TTS, no words in any language can properly describe the disappointment and resentment to this company. They're like Disney but British.
And on behalf of every Texan, I apologize for Rooster Teeth being…well, modern Rooster Teeth.
Depressing news aside, I hope you enjoy this update and eagerly await for the next one.
