Thanks a bunch for the continued support folks, it means a lot to me. Enjoy the chapter and drop a review if you're feeling generous.
Italics: Thoughts/Letters/Flashbacks
(Dustin)
If someone were to tell me I would end up getting interrogated to cap off a fucked up day, I'd have rolled my eyes and told them they were full of it. Yet here I sat in a small room surrounded by a bunch of cold blooded mercenaries, all of whom not looking too thrilled with me. To make matters worse, the leader of their group was my interrogator. A solid dude that could probably snap my head off like a praying mantis.
Stump crossed his arms as his eyes continued to bear into me. Now realistically I had a couple of options I could take. The first would be to comply and answer the questions he was going to ask me. The second option and suicidal one would be to do what I was trained. Only give them the necessary information. Either way, I was probably going to get smacked around because any truth I gave would be viewed as impossible by anyone with a shred of intelligence.
"What's your name?" Stump asked me as he swiveled the cigarette between his lips.
I don't know what possessed me to say what I did next. Maybe it was my nerves and witty nature that I did it as an attempt to alleviate the tension, but they were out before I could even think.
"Are you going to ask me what my quest and favorite color is next?"
A harsh stinging sensation flooded my cheek and my eyes screwed shut. That was a good slap. Cold air rushed my nostrils as I took a deep breath and dealt with the pain. Slaps stung like hell when they were done right, and that was one that got me. This guy just slapped me and was about to send me to school.
"Don't start with me, boy. After what you cost us today, I'm tempted to shoot you and leave your body for the buzzards," said Stump. "This is your only warning."
Damn, even the nickname boy sticks with me in Remnant. When I was growing up, that was what my old man called me on a daily basis. It was one of affection, but you'd think he'd have grown out of that as I got older. Nope. It was always "Boy" or "Boy Wonder" with him.
"If you're done being a smartass, let's try this again. What is your name?" Stump said.
Okay, maybe I should just cooperate. This wasn't any of those old action movies I enjoyed where the hero could be a smartass and get smacked around for a bit before the Deus ex Machina escape reared its head. This guy would probably kill me if I continued doing what I was doing. But let's be real here. Who wouldn't milk that opportunity at least once if put in that situation? In fact, I might as well continue it since anything I say won't be viewed as possible anyway!
"Oh, they call me Fez," I answered back. "Let me guess, you're Muscles McGurk?"
Stars filled my vision this time and it only added to my concussion. The room came back a blurred mess and I could vaguely make out the nasty glare on Stump's face as he brought his fist back.
Oh, Jesus. Okay, that one hurt.
"Next time I'm using my gauntlet," said Stump.
I grunted back to acknowledge the man and leaned back in my chair. My eyes slowly came back into focus and Stump's glare had grown more intense, resembling that of a pissed off drill sergeant. Fun time was over.
"Dustin Stone. My name is Dustin Stone." I humored him.
Stump nodded and had his next question ready to go.
"What is your business in Vacuo?"
I shook my head and grimaced as I felt my brain bounce around like a tennis ball.
"I don't have any business here. I'm here by inconvenience," was my response.
"Inconvenience? You don't wake up on a beach and wander the desert by inconvenience. So why were you out there?"
My eyes shifted to Hail and she met my stare for a minute. Why was this even a question? Didn't she give him the full details of everything that happened today? You'd think that they would still follow some form of military standard operating procedures with how similar the work was. In this case, after action reviews or something along those lines.
"Why don't you ask Hail? She was asking me about all of that earlier today." I nodded in her direction.
Stump's eyes shifted back to his subordinate for a brief moment before falling back on me.
"She's filled me in on everything already. I'm seeking confirmation and some gaps that don't make sense," he replied.
"Of course you are." I rolled my eyes.
Well, might as well see how far they'd be willing to let me tell my story before they started wailing on me.
"I just woke up out there, okay? One minute I'm in a gas station filling up, next thing I know I get in a gunfight and get shot, then I'm on the beach," I relayed the story to him.
"Where was this gas station? How did you get from a gas station to the beach?" Stump continued to press.
"I don't know! The guys I had the fight with couldn't have left me there because I dropped all of them!"
Stump cocked an eyebrow and it may have been my imagination, but he looked somewhat impressed with that revelation. He spared a quick look to his team who were all exchanging looks of their own. He turned his head back to me and reached for the back of his pants and pulled out my pistol a second later.
"Did you kill them with this?" He asked me.
I nodded back.
Stump observed the pistol and pulled back on the slide. He must have unloaded the gun while I was knocked out. His eyes did a slow sweep of the gun before he pressed on the slide release and it launched forward as it locked back into place. Hail caught the gun a second later after he tossed it to her and she set it on the table behind her.
On the table I could see my wallet, my hat, my scroll and my pistol was back in the holster with its magazines beside it.
"You got shot too, right?" He pulled his cigarette from his lips to tap off some ash.
I looked back at my shirt where the hole still was and then back at him with a halfhearted glare.
"What the hell gave you that idea?" I offered back.
Stump's eyes narrowed and I uttered an apology. He put his cigarette back between his lips and took another long puff. Smoke left him a minute later and blew in my direction. The tobacco filled air made my nostrils itch and the back of my throat burned a little as well.
"Yeah, I did. It was very unpleasant," I said.
"How did you survive that shot without any aura? Furthermore, how did your wound heal up that quick?" He continued his questioning.
I only shook my head.
My eyes drifted back to my belongings. The small distraction made me tune out the area around me. If they went through my stuff, chances were they already knew a lot of things were off. None of my stuff was from Remnant with the exception of my scroll and they probably knew that. If Stump was high speed like I'm sure he was, he was probably basing the gaps of information around my stuff. He knew something was off from the start and wanted information revolving around them.
"You sure you want to know the answer to that?" I asked him.
"I wouldn't be wasting my time with you if I didn't," was his short reply.
"Fine, but you're going to think it's crazy."
"We've all seen some shit, kid. Whatever you have to say, we'll keep an open mind."
Uh huh, sure you will. Ten bucks says you'll put a bullet in my head after I tell you because you'd think I was mental.
"Okay. What if I was to tell you that I'm not from Remnant? That I'm actually from some other country that is on a different world altogether?" My eyes moved to each one of them.
Their reactions were just how I pictured it. Raised brows and looks of disbelief. Nothing was said after my opening question, so that was my signal to keep talking.
"What if I told you that the world I'm from is similar to this one, but in terms of science, religion and the laws of physics there were some discrepancies?" I continued.
"I'd say you're full of it," Stump answered back.
Told you.
"But given what we know of you so far, I'd be willing to believe you." He nodded back at Hail.
Hail tossed my wallet to him and he pulled out my military ID and my driver's license. Like my observation from before, they knew something was off. The transmigration only affected some of my things, notably my name and my phone, but other than that, my ID still retained their likeness.
"We've been all over Remnant, kid. We know there's no place called Wisconsin or some military known as the U.S. Army." Stump thumbed between my ID.
"Then why even bother asking me about it?" I asked back.
"Because it helps fill in the blanks, Lieutenant."
Aw crap, I can already feel the flak coming from these guys. The wide smirks on their faces only answered my belief. They were probably all enlisted and now having an officer in front of them, they would exploit every opportunity to rip on me.
"So Lieutenant, how did you get to Remnant?" Stump put my ID back in my wallet.
He tossed it back to the table where it landed with a light thud.
"Depending on your views of religion, an angel sent me here as a second chance of life since mine was apparently cut short," I answered back with a small shrug.
"An angel, huh?" Stump grunted back.
"Yeah, an angel. Or is that too much for you grunts to grasp?" I retorted back.
The words were out before I could stop them, but my temper was reaching its breaking point. They wanted the truth, I'll give them the truth. If I said something in between that poked them back and irritated them, then that was fine with me.
In all honesty, that may have been a low blow. Grunts were the guys that got things done for officers when they were tasked out and they easily knew more about the military than any junior officer that came into their group. My little poke could have been like teasing the gorilla in the monkey house.
"Like I said earlier, we've seen and heard some shit, kid. We have our own religions and we are all believers," said Stump.
He let out another puff of smoke and tapped the ash off his cigarette again. With one last puff he pulled it from his lips and flicked the butt of it to the floor where embers danced before vanishing.
"So going off of your logic and word here, I'm going to assume that the gunshot to your chest was healed by the angel before he dropped you on the beach and that your body didn't defend you because aura doesn't fall under the laws of physics where you're from, right?" He asked.
I only nodded back, but that response was way too relaxed for my liking.
It's one thing to see and hear things that are wild and outlandish, but to be so nonchalant about it was unsettling. Either these guys were putting up good poker faces or they really have seen things that transcended the limits of religion and science. No sane person could hear that without asking too many questions or laughing at the sheer impossibility, but they were brushing it off as simple as a childish insult. Almost ironic. They should be the ones getting hysterical, but it was really me coming unglued by the second with their dismissiveness.
The questioning continued and I kept playing along by answering each of Stump's questions and explaining the story of how I got to being thrown in their interrogation room. Some things that I kept to myself was my knowledge of Remnant truly being a world created by a genius man of an animator and my knowledge of all the characters in the show up through volume five. That was something for me to take to the grave and make note of so long as I was here.
"Well, seeing that we've covered everything up to now, there's not much for me to ask, Lieutenant," said Stump.
"Oh, we can always ask the good LT here questions, boss," Frost spoke up from behind him. "Hey, LT, what was your MOS?"
I only stared back at the dip user and watched him spit a deposit into his bottle. The grin on his face was similar to a kid watching an endless montage of crotch shots.
"Let me guess, you were a POG, right?" Sonny smirked.
"What does my MOS matter?" I asked back.
"Yeah, he was totally a POG." Frost nodded back at Sonny.
My eyes rolled and a deep breath filled me. No use in arguing back through the heckling. It was something soldiers did all the time and it was usually because they liked messing with officers.
"What's the matter, Dustin? Don't like getting into the thick of it?" Hail added her own taunt.
My eyes opened and I offered her a simple stare. The grin on her face fell a little bit, possibly at me not taking the bait.
"Yeah, I was a POG. I'll admit it," I said as I looked back at all of them.
"Pussy," Frost muttered as he spit out more chew.
"This pussy was the guy who made sure your stupid asses didn't get turned into pink mist when you went in guns blazing, so I'd shut the fuck up if I were you."
Frost comically rose his hands and shook his head with a light chuckle.
I had my reasons for choosing the MOS I did. Dying was a small aspect behind my choice and you may call that cowardly, but it wasn't my main reason. If I got sent to the field to fight at the end of the day, I would do it in a heartbeat. You went where they needed you and you better be willing to do that job to its fullest.
No. The reason I chose to be a POG was because of the horror stories I heard about bad officers who became field commanders and I didn't want to fall into that category. I didn't like the possibility of leading men into a battle and getting them killed under my orders. It was something that scared the crap out of me and I felt that I wouldn't be able to handle it well. Instead I chose the MOS where I could give the guys in the field the information they needed to stay alive against the odds. A stressful job, but one I felt I was good at.
"What exactly was your MOS?" Stump asked.
I spared the others another look. All of them still had smug looks plastered on their faces.
"Intelligence. My job was built around analysis and predicting courses of action to my commander about taking an enemy on and crushing them," I answered back.
The room got oddly quiet. Hail, Frost and Sonny had their brows furrowed in slight confusion as they looked at each other. Stump on the other hand looked intrigued with what he heard.
"You guys never heard about that? You mean to tell me the Atlas Military doesn't have that MOS?" I asked.
Stump only shook his head.
"Kid, our job as soldiers ranged from peacekeeping operations to Grimm extermination. The Great War was the last time anything close to that was used and that was nearly one hundred years ago. It's very outdated," he said.
"Well, that's what I did because that was what my country faced with other military heavy countries," I answered back.
"Were you any good?"
"I only had training. I never got the chance to get deployed, so saying that I'm good would be a lie since I have no proof of it. What I will say is that I knew my job well."
Again, I'm being honest here. Deployment was my goal and since my career was cut short, I never had that opportunity to see if my training would have paid off well. No point in lying about something like that. I knew when to have humility.
Stump nodded and let out a sigh as he got to his feet. The man stretched and made his way to the door. When he opened it, Hail, Sonny and Frost left the room. Stump went back to the table and picked up my stuff and carried it out of the room. He returned a second later and untied me from the chair.
"Get comfy. You're going to be here for a while," said Stump.
"Define a while." I made to follow him.
The air was jettisoned from my lungs after a hard fist sunk into the lowest pit of my gut. I fell on all fours and sputtered for breath as Stump turned around and closed the door behind him.
"As long as it suits my purposes," he answered through the door.
The sharp pain made my teeth clench in anger. What purpose do they have with me? I'm of no use to them, so why not let me go?
My fingers curled into a fist and I managed to push myself up against the wall. Looking around the room I could see a barred off window near the ceiling. There was a bed to my right and to my left there was a small toilet.
I was in prison. Just when I thought I couldn't get any lower today, I did. I go from dying to being revived on a world of one of my favorite web series only to wind up in prison on my first day. No means of escape, and if by some miracle I managed to find a way out, I would probably get killed by the first mercenary to spot me.
My hand swept up my forehead and my fingers wormed their way through my dirty hair. The tip of my finger lightly drummed on my knee and a sigh left me.
"Unbelievable." I got to my feet.
The bed was looking more comfortable than the floor, so I flopped down on it and grimaced at the stiff mattress that met me. Turning over in the bed I looked up towards the window. The starry sky and shattered moon met my eyes. Despite the stunning view I had, it did little to take my mind off everything that happened.
(Stump)
I stood in front of the monitors that had camera views of each cell in our containment facility. All were empty, save for the one that harbored Dustin Stone. The kid was squirming around on his bed trying to get comfortable. Chances are he wasn't going to sleep well tonight.
My eyes trailed back down to the desk and I looked over the possessions that we confiscated from him. A hat, a wallet with ID, a pistol and a scroll. The only things of value that the kid had at the moment.
He had done well to keep his emotions under wraps, but to be fair, he was hiding behind a front of sarcasm. It was most likely a coping mechanism to deal with the shock and the interrogation, but it was more admirable than crying like a baby. That earned a bit of respect from me.
I pulled out the military ID from his wallet and looked it over. The kid didn't look much older than he did now in his photo, probably twenty-two at the time of it, maybe twenty-one at the earliest. A kid that young in charge of men like him in the military was an impressive feat, but only in the hands of a capable officer. There were a lot of shitty officers, but I played the game and gave them the respect of their rank if I didn't like them. Only a handful of officers had my respect, and one of them was similar to the kid in the cell.
"How did he strike you?" I asked as I set the wallet back on the desk.
My hand disappeared into the fridge beside the desk and pulled out a bottle of beer. The cap was easy to twist off and the ice cold beverage danced on my tongue. It was refreshing after a long day.
"I'd say outside of being a smartass he seems sound, calm and collected," said Hail.
"He gets flustered easily," I mentioned after taking a swig of my beer.
"Can you blame him given the circumstances?"
"No, but people like us need to stay composed. It makes me wonder if he was like that in front of his men."
Hail hummed in agreement and sat on the edge of the desk with her arms crossed. She looked at the monitor before picking up his hat. Her thumbs traced the M on the front of it before she set it back down.
"What are we going to do with him?" She asked.
Another drink from my bottle allowed me to ponder her words. In truth, I planned to use him as a temporary worker around the compound until he I felt he paid off the damage of losing Roman. Now with what he told us in the cell, I felt he could be of more use.
Despite the flak that my team gave him and my words about intelligence being an outdated concept in this day with no wars and Grimm crawling around, it did not escape potential. I've read my fair share of books on the topic and it was a fascinating concept and it was something that was challenging in its own right. Being able to take information about an enemy or force and knowing how to counter them was an impressive skill. The amount of work it took to build something from scratch was something that even I wouldn't be able to do with all the knowledge and tricks I learned while I was still in the Atlas Military.
"I want to see if his skill can benefit us with a job I have planned," I told her.
Hail looked back at me with a raised brow and got off the desk.
"You want to bring a POG and an outsider on board for a job?" She asked.
"I do." I nodded back.
"With all due respect, I think that's a bad idea."
"And if I made decisions based on your personal beliefs, we would be broke."
Hail rolled her eyes at the jab and let out another sigh before shaking her head.
"And what job would this be? I know you well enough that you won't risk a high paying job on a gamble like this," she said.
A smirk came to my lips as I took another drink. She was right. This was more of a personal job on my end. Something that would benefit us and possibly give us a lead on Roman.
"We need more trucks. Crustbusters took some out a week ago on a job Frost had," I told her.
"Of course that idiot would be the one losing equipment," Hail muttered under her breath.
"You're not exactly in a position to talk. Whose jeep did you have to borrow for your last job?"
Hail had the decency to blush in embarrassment at my words. She loved to give her brother grief for screwing up, but when she was put in check with her own game, it was always a treat to watch. A woman with confidence would soon turn into a silent and shy girl.
"Where are we getting the trucks from?" She broke from her silence.
"Black Hand. They have a lot of trucks for their raids on towns around Vacuo. All of them are in mint condition," I told her.
"Why do we need Dustin for that? We're capable of dealing with them without his help."
"Hail, they may not be mercenaries, but they are filled with former huntsmen and soldiers. They're well trained and the last time we dealt with them we lost five men."
She closed her mouth and bit her lip before looking down at the floor. Our last run in with the bandits did give us trouble that should not have happened. We were caught off guard and we paid the price for it. We lost a whole team and we haven't crossed paths with them since. I felt it was high time for payback and put an end to an irritating flea.
To do that, we needed Dustin. He seemed like a bright kid and if his intelligence training was sharp, he might be able to help us do that.
"When do you plan to do this job?" Hail asked.
I finished the rest of my beer and dropped the bottle in the can. Another look at the monitor showed that Dustin managed to fall asleep.
"We'll attack them next week. In the meantime I want to test his resiliency. While I'm doing that, I want Frost and Sonny to do recon on their main compound. You'll pick them up after they complete it," I said.
"Got it," said Hail as she made her way to the door.
The door closed behind me as she left to inform Frost and Sonny of their upcoming job. Once she was gone, I pulled out a book and propped my feet up on my desk. Before turning my attention to the book I gave Dustin one last check. I would give him five days. If he was still composed by the then, I would make him the offer.
(Dustin)
How long had I been in here now? At least five days, that much was certain.
Five days ago I died in downtown Milwaukee and I was revived on Remnant. In that timeframe of my first day, I met an angel, crossed a desert with no water, and met a mercenary that took me to her group after a dispute between Roman Torchwick and Neopolitan.
I probably sound like I'm beating a dead horse with repeating that, but it's helped me stay cognizant of everything. It was the only way to make sure I hadn't completely lost my mind.
Ever since my interrogation, I had been trapped inside this cell. Nothing to do for hours on end except stare at a wall or out the window at whatever offered some form of entertainment. Back on Earth, this would have been fairly routine for me on the weekend if I had nothing going on. Sitting in my room for hours on end watching TV, playing a video game or writing for one of my many fanfiction stories that will now never see a completion. It never really made me appreciate the love I had for my hobbies until I realized how much it sucked being barred from them.
This was like the ultimate timeout for someone my age. No source of entertainment and nothing to occupy my time. I could feel it slowly chipping away at my sanity. Hell, I didn't even have anyone to talk to. The only person that visited me was Hail, but she only brought me food before leaving me alone for hours until my next meal. It was getting to the point I was about ready to start having conversations with myself to at least resemble another person.
How long did they plan to keep me in here?
That was the one question that plagued my head for the past five days.
I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here, goddamn-it!
I sat upright when I heard footsteps stop outside my door. It was still too early for lunch, so there was no way it was Hail. Maybe it was Frost or Sonny? Could be.
The door unlocked and opened with a creak. To my surprise it was Stump who stood in the doorway. There was a fresh cigarette between his lips and the pack was pinched between his fingers. He walked in and kicked the door shut behind him and sat down in the chair close to my bed. He leaned back in the chair and held up the pack of cigarettes to offer me one.
"I don't smoke." I shook my head.
"Really? You look like you could use one," he said as he pulled out his lighter.
The zippo lighter clicked open and a flame sparked the tip of his cigarette. Tobacco began to burn and it filled the room.
"I've smoked cigarettes before, but I'm not a smoker. Still have the very first pack of Marlboros I bought back in college. Only smoked four of them," I said in return.
Cigarettes were only my go to if I got pissed off beyond belief or if I got super stressed out, so that should give you an idea of how much it took for me to do that.
Stump grunted and put his lighter away as he took a long drag from the cigarette. It was something that I found funny. Even back in my unit I was surrounded by enlisted guys who smoked, but what I never understood was how some of them were able to do so well on the runs during the PT test. Some of them even beat me and that was a bit of a blow to my pride when that happened. You'd expect a smoker to have the worst lung capacity and struggle, but the few that pulled it off made me laugh. It was something that could be seen out of a comedy movie.
"I'm going to ask you some more questions, but it's more of a test than anything to check on your current state of mind," he said.
"Why?" I asked him.
"Because it will give you the opportunity to get out of this cell if you pass."
My head snapped up and I looked him in the eyes. This had better not be a joke. I needed to get the hell out of this thing and if I had to lie about my answers to get out, I would do it. Then again, maybe he'd be expecting me to lie from the get go.
I would stick with telling the truth.
"Fine." I nodded back.
"Good. First off, tell me your name," he replied.
"Dustin Stone."
"Where are you now?"
"The Desert Fox compound somewhere in Vacuo."
"Who am I?"
"Stump."
The questions were becoming more apparent to me. They were simple questions that were similar to what they did to captured individuals when they questioned them for information. They would deprive a person of sleep and see whether or not they would divulge any of the information they were looking for through friendly conversation and bribing them with food or water.
"What was the last thing you told me when we last talked?" Stump asked.
"Are you referring to my question or what I did in the military?" I replied.
"Doesn't matter. I got my assessment on you."
He pulled his cigarette from his mouth and blew out some more smoke.
"Here's the deal. I know we busted your balls about being a POG, but I'm very aware of how much intel played a role in operations during the war. It's an outdated concept, but in the hands of someone smart, it can be a terrifying force to be reckoned with," said Stump.
"Okay, but what exactly does this have to do with you assessing me?" I asked him.
"I wanted to see if your head was straight because I am willing to give you the opportunity to get out of here and start fresh after we got off on the wrong foot."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two folded up pieces of paper. He held them out to me and I took them. After I unfolded the paper I was welcomed with a map and a drawing of another symbol. The map appeared to be an isolated area of Vacuo and symbol itself was a black hand holding a short dagger.
"What's this?" I asked him.
"Some of the tools you'll need to help us with a job we got coming up. That map shows the territory of a bandit group that has something we want and that symbol is their coat of arms. They're known as the Black Hand," Stump informed me tapping his cigarette free of ash.
"I'm going to need more than this to do my job."
"I figured as much, but you are supposed to be good at digging that up. So here's the deal…"
Stump got up from the chair and made his way to the door. He rested his back against it and propped his boot on it.
"I want you to figure out who these people are. What their capabilities are. Their tactics. The terrain. Everything you need to do to make a product to brief my team on before we go in. When you brief us, we'll execute the mission. When the mission's done, we let you go and we'll give you a cut of the takeaway," he continued.
I bit my lip and looked down at the two items he gave me. It was not much to go on and I would need a lot more than this to make a somewhat passable product. Fresh products were a bitch to make if there was no information to begin with and a perfect one took a month, sometimes longer to make depending on the enemy and environment we were operating in.
This tipped me off to two things. The first was that he knew this group and what they were capable of, but he wanted my input because they had trouble with them at some point before. On top of that, he was more than likely testing me to see if I was full of shit. He and his team would know the majority of this stuff ahead of time.
"It's your choice, Dustin. Stay in here and watch paint dry, or get out and make yourself useful for a chance of freedom," said Stump.
This wasn't exactly a hard decision.
"All right, I'm in. But I'm going to need a room to set up and get this going," I said.
"I can find you the perfect spot."
"When do you want this done by?"
"I'll give you three days starting now."
Figures.
This product would not be perfect, but I would at least be able to come up with the bare minimum information I needed to make this work. Since I would be free to work on it for these next three days, I would have access around the compound. There was a chance I could find information on the CCT network if they had some computers I could use and through the other mercenaries.
I'm going to need a lot of coffee.
That's the chapter, everybody. Let me know what y'all think. Just to make sure you're all tracking, this is currently taking place before we get into canon since I have intentions to change things around with my decisions in terms of some of the main characters before we get to our favorite girls. Follow, favorite, and I'll see you all next time.