So! Happy New Years to everyone reading this! I certainly hope you're surprised by this update, as I did mention it would be in the middle of the month. Well, because it's the new year, I said 'Why not?' and decided to post this lovely chapter for you all today. Based on location, this might've been released on NY Day, or, in my case, NY Eve. Either way, enjoy!
"Give them some form of credit; most have fallen into despair after a journey like that. Be thankful that they are the minority that haven't." ~Unknown
The Champion couldn't stop shifting their gaze at every different sound that didn't seem normal. It concerned Blake, Jaune, Nora, and Ren to a certain degree, while the other four were either dismissive or disgusted. The gloves would spark orange for a few seconds, and then dimmed after nothing else happened.
Could one blame it? Maybe, but that changes after fighting Wyvern after Wyvern in the sky on a floating island, where even a single slip-up would mean death. The harpies were nuisances enough, but add in the wingless guardians of the sky into the equation and then a Blood Moon on top of that, and then one begins to question how such creatures breed and mature so quickly while slaughtering the rest of them.
The paranoid feeling was amplified, mainly from the fact that the Champion was in an enclosed space, and such spaces caused disasters – it was how the Destroyer had the ability to catch everyone off-guard that night. Although, it did have to thank Red and every other deity up there for giving it the ability to see through walls to an extent; it meant it could easily detect threats faster than the pilot or the Hunters can try.
During the flight, it was given an explanation as to what certain things are. The starter for that conversation was quite the lively one...
A few minutes into the flight, and Jaune was already looking slightly pale. The Champion was confused by this, and had to think carefully about what might cause this. Perhaps he was envenomed? No, he would've remember shooting him in the gut; an outfit like that was bound to stand out.
"Motion-sickness," Ren said.
Oh.
...in that case, it could empathize. Riding in minecarts that went only about 15 miles an hour at maximum speed was capable of generating that same feeling. The Mechanical Cart was different, as it was already leagues above the standard cart in terms of speed. Add in the ability to fire lasers and utterly obliterate anything stupid enough to step in front of the deathtrap, and a little motion-sickness was a very acceptable trade-off.
That was until it obtained wings, and after that, a mount capable of flight. It made traveling so much easier – and cathartic, depending on the situation.
Speaking of situations, Jaune was holding in his lunch a lot longer than most, and then recovered after glowing white for a few seconds.
Which reminded the Champion of a conundrum it was pondering about during the encounter with them.
"Ren...I have been...curious...about something," it said.
"What is it?" he asked, intrigued.
"How did...Nora...survive the...Nebula shot...at her?"
"That was my Aura, creepy guy!" the person in question responded.
"Aura? Never...heard of it."
Retinazor and Spasmatism would be scared at how fast every eye turned to look at the Champion. It was faster than teleporting – and it knows how fast that is!
"How have you never heard of Aura?" Jaune asked in disbelief. "I barely know a few things about it!"
"Situations...I was...thrust into...didn't...demand any...questions," it replied.
"Then how were you able to move that fast?" White said, becoming livid. "How did you fire those blasts of energy? The spears? The swords?! The – You get the point!" She got up and marched over to the figure, ignoring Blake's pleas of peace. "There is no way you could've done any of those things without ANY knowledge about Aura! So!" White started poking the breastplate the Champion wore. She spoke with each poke: "Explain! How! You! Did! All! Of! Those! ThingsAAAAAAAH!"
The last attempted poke was stopped short; the figure had enough of White's demanding attitude, and grabbed her wrist. Because of the gauntlet's properties, it activated it's Solar powers; though it wouldn't burn White because it didn't create a weapon, its heat could be felt by the girl. Red and Yellow jumped up, prepared to stop the Champion, while Bronze readied her rifle. Blake was about to stop the trio, but...
"What, do you think you're some sort of Ice Queen?" the figure spoke without hesitation.
All parties stopped dead in their tracks. White was shocked at the quick response she obtained, and was about to rebut, but was cut off by the Champion.
"Because you aren't." The tone it used wasn't reserved or slow anymore. No, it was the tone of a warrior; a combatant that has seen more bloodshed than any of the individuals inside the airship – the probable exception was Blake, with the surprise in her eyes being less than her comrades.
"I've seen true Ice Queens, Icicle: You are just a mere drop of snow in comparison. They've frozen lands solid, destroyed the lives of many individuals with nothing more than a few blizzards, and brought forth the end of days in some rare cases, where the only survivor is myself. I've slaughtered them all, brought them down to the level of their victims, and then savored their screams of heated agony as I burned them with the powers that I've fought for.
"Do you want to know how I've fought for it? With millions of monsters, swarming down upon me as they have torn through my armor and flesh, bullets and missiles flying all over the place; fire, ice, lightning, natural and unnatural powers, all tearing through the creatures of darkness that hold the things I desire to keep the people I've found safe at night. I fought to make myself stronger, and obtain the abilities and talents to make certain that none of them ever have to follow that same path."
White was shellshocked: no words would come to her defense. The Champion used nothing more than his skills, talents, abilities, and a bit of luck to arrive where everyone is now. And survived, no less! Believing that she is satisfied with the answers she wanted, it released her hand, and exhaled slowly, leaning back in the seat it occupied. White stood there for a few more seconds, processing the words she heard, turned on her heel, and went back to her seat.
"If...there's anything else...I missed..." it said, returning to it's reserved state once more. "Now...would be good...to inform me."
It was dead silent, each pair of eyes was looking at the figure in either fear, shock, empathy, sorrow, or...Nora ("Hindsight is 20/20; I'm very thankful for classifying anything Nora does as Nora."). As the figure waited, Blake's expression lit for a second.
"What do you know about Dust?"
And confusion sets back in. Hello, lack of knowledge! My name's dumbass!
"The way...you emphasized...'Dust'...makes it...sound important, for...some...odd reason," the Champion noted. "Why?"
Blake asked White to yield one of the vials that contained the 'Dust,' in after some hesitation, said vial was procured, filled with a reddish substance.
'Perhaps this is what they call Dust...odd name for something so dull in appearance. But, as I've learned, looks can be deceiving,' the Champion thought. And it was correct; after looking at it for a few seconds, it noticed a small hum resonating from within.
"Dust," White began, "is the basis of all progress that humanity has discovered and utilized, from the simple elemental powers that are beheld onto the user, to the very machines created by many talented engineers – this Bullhead we're flying in is one such example, as it uses Dust as a propellant.
"It can even be refined into ammunition for many ranged weapons, from simple pistol rounds to bullets of a high caliber. I won't go into that because my knowledge of ranged weapons are quite minimal in practical application..."
She trailed off, mentioning something about how the Schnee's, a noble bloodline, are the largest producers and miners of the substance, and a few other topics that went above its head. However, it did began wondering how powerful those bullets would be if they were created from their hands.
'I won't be able to do much right now, though,' it remembered. 'Until I'm either cleared or managed to remove myself from prying eyes, I'll see what I can do about obtaining some for my own purposes.'
Resources are always in high demand when a Champion needs something. Because of their higher thought-process, they consider every possibility, and collect more than enough of a particular resource. This sociopathic activity was the healthiest in terms of survival, as it saved the Champion more times than they can count.
They caught onto a small tidbit of detail while White was explaining: Four types of Dust; Red was Fire, blue was Ice, yellow was Lightning, green was Wind. From what they can gather, those types could also merge to create different Dust combinations: 6 combinations, if they were correct.
This meant that there were numerous possibilities on what it could do with Dust. Recalling the battle many hours ago, Dust was a very volatile substance, but when used properly is where it shines the best. A substitute for magic, when necessary. Ammunition, when their guns run out of Luminite Bullets. Grenades, for those unknowing enough to leave the crystals unattended.
As it thought about this, a shudder from the airship was felt, and the figure looked around again, only to find white slabs of stone underneath the craft. They landed. Where, exactly, was unknown, but the Champion was about to find out.
Awe.
It was the only expression visible through body language that the Champion could emit as it viewed the massive building in front of it.
Beacon Academy. A school for training monster-slayers. A noble prospect, indeed; the architecture of the massive castle was best enough to impress the builders of Helios. They were travelers in a massive ship created from many materials found off of their homeworld, which died of the Crimson Plague years back. It took five-hundred platinum to hire their services to create a bustling city on his own world. Looking back now, it was well spent.
But, onto the Academy; the two teams informed the Champion that it was to meet their headmaster, as part of the report. Considering that it was the object of interest that they needed to return – alive, was the fortunate keyword missing – it followed them to wherever their headmaster was located.
It didn't ignore the stares that followed it's back. The Champion wasn't an idiot; eyes following their every move was quite the familiar experience, and a simple stare in the direction of the offenders brought them out of their stupor and had them return to whatever business they were attending to. It did hope for the place to be quiet upon arrival, but it was close to evening, so activity was quite high inside the school.
There were whispers pointed in their direction, curiosity and animosity brewed when they came into view. One group ended up getting quite familiar in some trees a couple miles away when they tried to shove it around. While smashing a window in the process.
"Can you please not cause any more damage before we reach the headmaster's office, please?" White pleaded.
"Why would...I...be involved...in...something petty...like this?" it replied. "As...far as I...am concerned...I was...never here..."
At one point, they all reached an elevator, and stopped in their tracks. It takes a lot for the Champion to get confused about something; this succeeded.
"...um...what's wrong...?" it asked.
Red – the girl wearing the color, not the Creator – sheepishly turned around, and said, "How are we all supposed to fit on the elevator?"
Until today, it never felt so sympathetic to a floor before. Mainly because it never was on the kickoff side of a faceplant of stupidity. Apparently, today's the day in which everything the Champion knew about gets flipped upside down, and meet a bunch of strangers to help them go on a journey to become a Prince of a town called...what town's the closest to Beacon?
"Ruby, you dolt!" White scolded. "Why don't you think these things through?!"
"Well-I-uh..." Ruby stammered.
"...Look...we alternate...on who uses...the elevator," it suggested. "I...use it after...you four do...so there...isn't any fast...moves pulled."
"Can't you do your super awesome teleporting powers or something?" Nora asked.
"...And...possibly cause...hostility towards whoever...is up there?"
"He has a point, Nora," Ren agreed.
"...alright, but nothing funny!" White stated, pointing at the Champion. Has she forgotten what she heard earlier? And earlier than that, too? It took a few seconds for them to reach the top, and the elevator returned. Entering the cramped space, the Champion pushed the arrow pointing up.
The doors closed, and then...nothing happened. A beep was heard, and the figure looked at the red light that said 'OVERWEIGHT PASSENGERS PLEASE GET OFF THE ELEVATOR.'
"...Are...you...fucking...serious?" it deadpanned. Looking up to see the hatch, it opened the hatch and shot out an orange hook at the wall many feet above the elevator. Latching on with success, it pulled the Champion out of the elevator and onto the wall. It then turned around, and fired a purple hook opposite. The Champion repeated this, with four different hooks powered with galactic energies, climbing up the shaft of the elevator.
It reached the top, and waited for JNPR to stop gawking at the spectacle and ride the elevator. After the elevator stopped, the Champion dropped in, and entered the room.
It was something different, that was for certain; a constant ticking sound was heard, and looking up, there were gears spinning in the ceiling. It appeared rustic, but also nostalgic. Steampunker would love it here, as it had the things she enjoyed. But it wasn't that thought that made it nostalgic; it was the meaning behind the gears above, ticking away. In fact, it actually made the Champion relax, as it remembered a phrase said by Red before appearing in the world for the first time:
Time heals all wounds.
And this was no different.
Two people opposite of the Champion listened intently to team RWBY's report, and stood aside as JNPR took the point to add in theirs as well. It was after all this that the man in the chair took notice of the figure.
"Hello there," the man started. "Would you like a seat?" He motioned to a chair opposite of his desk. It didn't seem too cushy, or out of place, but it did seem a bit odd that it appeared out of nowhere.
Taking this into consideration, the figure walked over to the chair, and did a quick inspection upon getting closer. No traps, no knives, or anything that could cause bodily harm. It checked for any strings. Nothing. Pressure plates? Nada. And thanks to some wire-cutters hidden in its hands, it couldn't find anything that would cause damage in which it couldn't reach with the laser drill. Carefully, it took a seat. It was comfortable...
"Now, you might be quite confused as to why my students here detained you suddenly, and without any warning," the man began. "Actually, one moment: Teams RWBY and JNPR, you are excused."
"But sir-" White began.
"You are dismissed," the woman to the man's left repeated, which caused the eight Hunters to turn around and leave the office. It looked like one, but appearances can be deceiving.
"So, let's begin with introductions," the man began once the elevator descended. "I am Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy. To my left is my co-worker and deputy headmistress, Professor Glynda Goodwitch. Considering that we are in a place of confidentiality, anything that you say here will not leave this room. Can you please remove your helmet, and give us your name?"
'If this is Blake's boss, then he can be trusted. But, to make sure that our trust is placed in good hands...' "How...can I know...that I...can trust you both?" the Champion challenged.
Ozpin was silent at this. Possibly in thought, but who knows, he could be stumbling for a satisfactory answer. Glynda was peeved at what the figure asked, but held her tongue, waiting for her boss' response.
"In this world, no matter what you've done or haven't done, and what you hurt and have been hurt by, remember this: Time heals all wounds," Ozpin recites.
The Champion froze. The very statement that only Champions of Terraria know of, passed down by Redigit, the Creator himself. Was Ozpin was one of them? If he was, then this would end badly if the Champion didn't say something right.
"Who told you that?" it asked.
"Someone by the name of Redigit, I believe his name was."
'Either he's a mind-reader, or he actually is a Champion. But if he can read minds, I wonder how much of an idiot White is, and how those two should start **************************** in front of me.' The figure waited for a second for Ozpin's reaction. Either a good poker face, or he isn't bluffing.
"Who was the first person that met you in this world?"
"My mother, of course. I was 3 when I can truly remember seeing her for the first time."
"With that in mind, what were their names?"
"Personal information: and they're dead, in case you're wondering."
What's the first item you found?"
"A stick that had fallen off a tree; it wasn't sturdy, or anything, but I felt invincible holding it."
"...Do you know what the Corruption is?"
"The Grimm continue to plague this world; we try to protect it to the best of our ability, but many still fall."
"I can only assume that's a 'maybe.' What about the Hallow?"
"Are you referring to Dust?" Glynda asked.
"Doesn't matter. What about the Impending Doom?"
"I...don't follow. What is that?" Ozpin pondered, quite confused.
The Champion was about to respond, but the moon outside answered their question: It was shattered, quite irreparable.
Broken Moon. No Moon Lord. No Impending Doom.
This also explained why the Celestial Sigil's were nowhere to be found inside their inventory. They all turned to dust, and not the energy type. The type of dust that is always an annoyance.
"...What did you do?" it asked, now enraged.
"Wha...what do you mean?" Ozpin said, more confused than ever.
"The moon, you fool; what did you do to the MOON?!" the Champion shouted, pointing at the celestial body in all of their hatred and anger.
Glynda barely took note of their words, only their emotion, and was about to retaliate with their riding crop. Luckily for both sides, Ozpin intervened.
"It appears as though you truly are from that universe, then," he said. "Not many people would react so badly to our moon's...condition, unless they've never seen it before. Even then, their reaction would be quite palpable.
"Red's, however, was almost like yours, except his was more confused than angry. I did explain to him that our world was like this upon our rise from dust, and after allowing him to explore and inform, Red was quite calm and understanding. He told us that we were lucky to not suffer by his failure's hands, and left us with a parting gift...an odd one at that," Ozpin trailed off, pondering something.
"Parting gift? What do you mean by that?" the Champion inquired.
"Well, from what we can tell," Glynda resumed, after taking a breath to calm herself. "is that the gift is somewhat reminiscent of an old piggy bank, the one's you give to children so they can learn about managing their money during their lives. It was an odd gift, as Professor Ozpin says, but it only became weirder when Red told us that it can summon a useful companion for storage.
"We didn't know how to call it forth, as he left shortly after giving it to the Professor. I've tried numerous ways to make it work, but all I've succeeded in getting was a migraine."
"Well, maybe I can try." it stated.
"Perhaps, but you still have a deal to uphold," Ozpin replied.
"Not so fast, 'Professor;' if I was to believe you, that Redigit himself visited this world, what was he wearing? Because only those that truly met him know exactly what he wields," the Champion shot back.
"A deep shade of violet armor, from the greaves all the way to his helmet. There were traces of gold on his pauldrons, gauntlets, breastplate, and wings, which gave the appearance of a cape," he recalled.
"...either you bullshitted me right there, or you actually have met the Creator. However, judging from how you described his appearance, I'd say you were spot on the platinum," the Champion remarked. "Because of this, I can trust you both to the fullest. I'll do as you have requested, as I am a man of my word."
That being said, the man raised his hands towards the helmet he wore, and twisted it slightly to the left. A small pop was heard, as the black-and-white headpiece was lifted off his body, and allowing his short, unkempt brown hair to breathe in the new air. His face wasn't anything too special, as the look was quite common on this world; the things that separated the man from the rest were a few scars. The first was a long, jagged line going down from his cheekbone to his chin, barely grazing by his mouth. The second were four scratches that sliced through, going from the forehead down to his upper lip, perpendicular to the first scar. The final, more notable one was a large, white dot just underneath his right eye. Judging from the angle of the dot, which was wider on the right side, the man possibly got shot by a bullet of a high caliber rifle. How he survived that piqued the Professor's curiosity.
"As I have said before," the man, whose baritone, echoing voice rang louder than the gears above, "I am a man of my word, and I show you who I am. My name is Johnathan Osborne; I am the Terrarian Champion of the dead world Amirokal. It is a pleasure to meet you both. I have been asking you both questions before I even could trust you with this knowledge, and in my opinion, that doesn't seem fair. If you need to know anything, ask away."
"I have one thing that was bothering me," Glynda started. "Those questions you were asking: were they to determine if you weren't alone on Remnant?"
"It's...possible. Though...what's Remnant?" John replied, his calm, analytical tones returning.
"Remnant is the world you happen to be on now," Ozpin explained. "This world is separate from the...Terrarian, I believe you called it...world you've lived on yourself. Which leads to my next question, why did you say your world was destroyed? Did the Grimm destroy it there?"
"No Grimm...Red was correct...in this regard...Amirokal...was destroyed...by other forces... of Darkness. To be...completely fair, though...the end...was quick for...the world. I...don't believe...there was much...suffering...during that time." he paused. "Anything else?"
"Do you know anything else about this world?" Ozpin inquired.
"No...I am...a foreigner...of...this world...it appears," John stated. "I...barely know of...Dust, Aura, and...Grimm. Let alone...what anything is."
"Very well, that leads to my next question, which is an offer." the headmaster said, smirking slightly.
"Professor, you can't just simply-" Glynda argued.
"How would you like to be a teacher here?" he finished.
Neither of them expected the Champion to chuckle. It was almost as if the man found the situation funny.
"Me? A...teacher, you said? Wouldn't...that raise alarms? Especially against...whoever else wields...power here?" John asked.
"Do you have another option? One I haven't thought of, perhaps?" Ozpin wondered.
"...as a matter of fact, I do," the Champion responded. "Back on my world, I've learned how to survive off of many different things. I gained different traits because of it, and have learned to always be over-prepared for every situation. I've had to work alone, and as much help as I got from the friends I've made, I've had to fight alone as well. This won't be any different. However, judging from your school here, you gather up jobs for your students to complete, right?"
"That's correct," Glynda replied.
"Then allow me to do the jobs your students can't. They may be dependable when you need them, but what about the missions you have that they weren't able to complete? Or the ones they won't even think about trying? It's a bit of a 'Scratch my back, I scratch yours.' type of deal: I do the jobs you aren't able to convince your students to complete; you help me with obtaining the knowledge of this world." John proposed. "And even if you don't accept, I'll be able to figure something out quickly. I'm quite resourceful when I need something done, and I can always find someone else to work for."
Never let it be said that Ozpin is always a calm figure. He's human, after all; he felt every emotion during his life and Hunter career, faced many foes, and is still standing after the last blade was sheathed.
But Johnathan...he was an enigma in every single cell of his body. Ozpin wasn't a fool; the posture the armored figure had was one of veiled extreme caution; he saw it after the Terrarian's tone changed after mentioning Red in front of him. The man was ready for a fight, and if it ever broke out, Ozpin had no doubt in his mind that the Champion could easily fight his way out of the Academy and escape to who knows where. If this man fell into the hands of the Queen...
"No." Ozpin didn't even complete that thought to realize that allowing the Terrarian to fall into her hands spelled disaster. "You've driven a hard bargain, but you got yourself a deal."
"Well then, it'll be good to work alongside you..." John stuck his hand out to meet Ozpin's in a firm handshake. "Professor."
You have no idea how hard it was to not write an A/N on the top of the page. I did that frequently back then, and not doing it now somewhat throws me off my grove. However, it won't stop the writing.
Now we have a name for our dear Champion of Terraria, whom is quite the war-torn person from just two chapters alone. And in case you're wondering, there won't be any flashback chapters about what he went through; the story will be mainly focused on him, with the other characters of RWBY making appearances. Because of what the Champion went through back on his world, you can be certain that he knows who's truly good and evil. But even that can deceive him; after all, he did react badly to the team's offering when they first met, so there can be some discrepancies and false-positives running amok with his perception. (Yes, I did double-check that word spelled weirdly; it is correct, and it did confuse me as well when reading it aloud.)
There's also the fact that in many AU's, stories, and the like, there are characters that become students or teachers. But we've never heard of a character striking a deal with anyone to become something of an equal to the opposite party; hence, this AU.
Finally, the thing that people might get concerned about: Johnny won't be a Gary Stu. He has his own shit to deal with; paranoia, sociopathic tendencies, the Itch (will be explained next chapter), and PTSD. And though Terrarians are immortal, this is Hardcore Terraria characters here; they can't age, are immune to most illnesses, have magical powers, etc., and are very hard to kill in his case of the game. But once he dies, he stays dead. I won't write Johnny back to life, or do some random magical voodoo bullshit to prevent his death; the dead stay dead this time.
Also, this wasn't the original piece. What I had in mind was a lot more stupid than usual, so I scrapped it and made both the Terraria and RWBY world's separate in terms of content, but also merged. Johnathan will be able to craft a few things because of his knowledge and soon to be accessibility to Dust, but that goes to an extent. And because of the shortage of Dust thanks to a certain group of misguided people, you can be certain that someone's going to do something about it.
Spot a reference? Let me know in a review! Many of them will be obscure, so it'll take some searching to figure them out. Find enough of them, you might get a reward!
This is TehUnoman, and stay tuned for the next chapter!
Time of completion: 31/12/2015