CHAPTER 1: Violet
Where there is darkness, you will bring light…
The screeching, thundering motions of a passing train shook Max's apartment side-to-side. The railway was only a few feet away from his window. Empty bottles, pieces of trash, books, and piles of paper fell on the floor if they weren't on the floor already. Several unattended piles littered the dark room. The train passed, and it was almost like a hurricane had visited the apartment. Maybe at one time the room was carefully taken care of; the furniture and possessions secured so not even the violent rumble of a train would shake them down. But the reality of today was that Max no longer had it in him to put that amount of work and self-care into the place he called home.
Max began his day as usual by crawling off his bed like a slug. He fell to the floor, chest first, pausing a moment until he found the strength to pull himself up to his feet. He only wore a pair of dirty jeans and just like his room, his hair was sloppy and unkempt. Grabbing a half-empty cup of old coffee and mixing it with a flask of liquor he found on the floor, Max dropped himself into his desk chair.
Max grabbed a thin piece of metal and spread it apart, activating the display on his scroll. While his scroll was the size of a tablet, like most others, he had it connected to a holographic display at the center of his ceiling. Suddenly the dark room shined bright with floating flat screens of different colors spinning clockwise around the room. When they met a piece of furniture they'd shimmer and disappear until their shape cleared the obstacle. Then they'd spring back into existence, ready to repeat the cycle of life and death after hitting the next piece of furniture. The screens showed messages, forums, and missions available to Max as a huntsman of his rank.
His rank being the lowest. If he were demoted, Max wouldn't have a huntsman license anymore. Max's standing in the community used to be a lot higher; noble, even. Until he lost Ivory. After what happened, Max was surprised he was even still a huntsman.
A small screen flashing red passed in front of Max's vision. He knew what it was and tried his best to ignore it. Rent and utilities, past due. Another screen showed his savings account near zero. Max didn't care about prestige; all he cared about was making enough money to stay off the street. Yet, Max had chosen this way of life. His rank would have gone up and he would have lived more comfortably if he treated his job seriously and gave it his maximum effort. Max didn't want to do that, though; he preferred trapping himself in this room, listening to her all day.
Max used his semblance. For some, their semblance gave them powers of super speed, or super strength, even power over the elements, etcetera. For Max, he was able to see reenactments of the past. They were ghostly memories appearing almost physical. Max was able to see them, hear them, but not feel them. They weren't real, no matter how much Max wished they were.
These memories of the past were where Max lived.
The memory was the opposite of Max's current reality. The room was no longer messy and miserable, but tidy and full of hope. The furniture appeared new and a much healthier version of Max stood at the door. He wore a handsome suit. His hair was short and cut nicely. Max's past self welcomed a woman inside his home with a wide, warm embrace. Her smile was brighter than her dress, her eyes as beautiful as the stars. Her long white hair radiated elegance. The two ghosts walked together and sat at the table at the center of the kitchen, sharing a laugh and making plans for when everyone else arrived at the housewarming party.
Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!
A notification from Max's scroll pulled him back violently into the dark present. He grunted, took a slow drink from his coffee cocktail, and picked up his scroll to read the notification. It was a direct message, actually, from none other than Max's old teammate from the huntsman academy - Victor Valentine, the legend himself. This was gonna be good.
[Vic] Maverick job opportunity
[Max] Dude we haven't talk in years and this is the first thing you say?/
[Vic] You mind if I come over
[Max] …
[Max] Sure why not,
[Max] if you can find me anyways.
[Vic] Dont worry about that Im already here
"What?" Max screamed as he swung around to face the door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Mav, I know you're in there," Vic's muffled voice came from the hallway. "Didn't think I'd find ya, huh?"
Max, frozen with disbelief, could not answer.
"You're not good at hiding, Maverick. Open-the-door."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Max had zero intention of responding and had even less of a desire to go anywhere near that door.
After what seemed like minutes of silence, Vic replied one last time; "Hard way, got it-"
With one deliberate kick from his combat boots, Vic forced the door open. The door cracked; a piece of wood surrounding the lock and handle stayed still. The rest swung around and smacked against the wall at the speed of a bullet.
The bright lights from the hallway blinded Max. When his vision settled, there stood Victor Valentine. He was more machine than man these days. Prosthetic arms and legs each ready to transform into blades, or guns, whichever one Vic wanted. Bottles of colorful dust, the same dust that powered all the machines and weapons in this world, protruded from his artificial limbs. Anything still flesh and blood was covered with battle armor dyed dark purple. Everything was covered except Vic's face, which displayed the most heroically smug smile Max had ever seen.
"Top o' the morning to ya," Vic quipped.
"That was my door, moron!" Max replied.
"Tsk- I can buy you a hundred doors. You mind if I let myself in?"
And then, Vic let himself in. He didn't care about the mess in the room, or the floating holograms, or about the fact he hadn't seen Max in years, and he definitely didn't care that he was uninvited and unwelcome here. Victor Valentine was on a mission and he sat on Max's couch with blunt determination. He came to talk and he was going to have his conversation, no matter the cost.
"Maverick," Vic started, "I have a job, a big one. I can't do it by myself. So I'm getting the team back together."
"Victor, it's like…" Max protested with quiet rage, "...way too early for this. And you broke. My. Door!"
"Max-Maverick-Mav, you gotta let the past go, darling." Vic carried himself with the charisma of a man who was in love with himself. He moved his hands a lot when he spoke to add even more flair to his exuberance. "Don't interrupt, Mav, this is serious. A Schnee girl went missing and they contracted me to find her."
"Meaning?" Max raised a frustrated eyebrow.
"Meaning, meaning!" Vic mocked with an unflattering imitation of Max.
"Dude, just get out."
"No, Mav, listen. There's a lot of money and reputation on the table. You're telling me you're not interested? A member of the Schnee family gone missing? And even better, a member with the power to give birth to more members. That's solid gold, darling."
"I. Don't. Care." Max couldn't believe this. Still very much angry, he wiped as much sleep off his face as he could. He took a second to drink his alcohol again before mustering the patience to turn back to his old friend. "I didn't see this on the mission board."
"With your rank, I bet you didn't," Vic joked. "And there's still no way you would have seen this one. A rep from the Schnee family gave me this mission-in-person."
"Lucky you."
"No, lucky you, Maverick. I'm giving you my cut, I'm only in it for the prestige."
"Why in Remnant would you give me your cut?"
"Mav, you clearly need the money, and you're not thinking of the big picture," Vic used his fingers to pantomime his head exploding. "Poof! Think, Mav, think! Everyone's gonna want to hire the man that saved the poor little Schnee girl from the woods. Word of mouth and recommendations travel fast. That's worth my cut. I'll be the king of Remnant and on top o' the world in no time, flat!"
Max rubbed his face again and groaned, loudly. After a while he let out a defeated chuckle. Yep, Vic's still Vic, he thought to himself. "How'd you find this place Vic?"
Vic's demeanor changed. Calmly, his hands returned to his sides. His posture relaxed and he sat seriously. His devious smile subsided and became somber. "I heard about Ivory."
"Victor, don't."
"Mav, I know you. I'll bet my entire estate you moved back here just to see her again."
Max's eyes widened, followed by sad laughter, and a quiet cry. He leaned forward in his chair and buried his face in his hands. When he returned to the conversation he had a bittersweet expression of gratitude on his face. Max was still irritated with Vic, but he was glad someone understood what he was going through.
"Why me?" Max asked shyly. "There's plenty of huntsmen on the net that aren't broken. You don't need me."
"Wrong!" Vic sprang back to life. His demonic grin rushed back like a landslide and spread from ear to ear. He jumped to his feet and put on a pair of sunglasses. The frames were shaped like stars and the lenses were tinted violet. "Get dressed, Mav. We're going dancing." Vic sang an upbeat tune as he danced - horribly - back to the hallway. "You coming Mav?"
"I-"
"You in or you out?"
"I just don-"
"Bullshit. You-in-or-you-out, Mav? You in? Or you out?"
Max sighed. Vic didn't give him a lot of time to think about it. Not like that would have changed anything; Max would have still found every reason to say no.
Max, Ivory's voice said. Her phantom appeared next to the door, smiling. She repeated words she had said years ago. Now they had new meaning. It looks like Victor's outside, she said, you want to go get him?
Max finished his drink and stood. Bills had to be paid. And this little fiasco might help him escape his malaise.
"I'm in."