It all began when he left behind the life of a frightened and vulnerable teenager. Once trembling in the face of danger, he had transformed into something else entirely. His journey had brought him to where he now bore the name Midnight, which struck fear in those who knew him.
Midnight had landed a spot in a mercenary guild known as the "Azure Blades." This guild had a storied history that was as illustrious as it was enigmatic. The Azure Blades had been founded by a group of skilled Huntsmen and Huntresses in the wake of a terrifying Grimm incursion that had swept through the city of Mistral. Led by the indomitable Seraphina "Sera" Nightshade, they established the guild with a singular purpose: to provide unwavering protection and unyielding combat support to the people of Mistral.
Over time, the Azure Blades had carved out a legendary reputation. Their professionalism and unwavering success in countless missions had elevated them to a position of unparalleled renown among the mercenary guilds of Mistral. They were no longer just mercenaries; they were legends, and their legacy was etched into the very soul of the city they called home.
For Midnight, this guild represented more than just a chance at a new life; it was a rebirth. Here, in the company of these formidable warriors, he would forge a new destiny where the darkness of his past would find purpose in light of a brighter, more perilous future.
Midnight couldn't help but feel the weight of his newfound identity pressing upon him as the doors of the Azure Blades' headquarters swung open. He was no longer that scared fifteen-year-old boy; he was now Midnight, a member of the illustrious Azure Blades, and the world would soon know his name.
Two months after Midnight arrived in Mistral, he caught Seraphina's attention. It happened when he witnessed a distressing incident: a human male, appearing to be in his mid-twenties with short green hair and light blue eyes, had cornered a female Faunus, forcefully pushing her against a wall and touching her inner thigh. Unfortunately, Midnight had encountered numerous similar situations during the five years he was a slave to the Shadowfang, primarily with Kera, so he stepped in.
"Hay!" Midnight shouted, his voice making the man jump. "Let her go!"
The man, his grip tightening around the trembling Faunus, turned his gaze towards Midnight. His eyes were filled with a mix of defiance and disdain as he locked onto the unwavering figure before him. The air crackled with tension as the question hung in the balance, daring Midnight to reveal the consequences of their defiance.
Midnight's piercing gaze met the man's, unyielding and filled with a quiet resolve. It was a gaze that spoke volumes, conveying a depth of determination and an unwavering commitment to justice. His voice, steady and measured, broke the silence that had settled upon them.
"If you don't release her," Midnight's words carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable resonating with a potent blend of warning and conviction, "there will be consequences."
His voice, laced with steely resolve, left no room for doubt. It was a declaration that echoed with the strength of unwavering conviction and a promise to fight relentlessly for the rights and safety of those who couldn't fight for themselves. Midnight's words were more than a mere threat; they embodied a promise to hold the perpetrators accountable for their actions.
As the weight of Midnight's words settled upon the man, a flicker of uncertainty danced across his face. It was a fleeting moment of hesitation, a glimpse into the realization that their choices held grave consequences. The pulsating tension in the air bore witness to the critical juncture they found themselves in, where the path they chose would determine the course of their fate.
In that charged moment, the man's grip on the Faunus faltered slightly, uncertainty casting a shadow upon his intentions. The resolve in Midnight's eyes, coupled with the weight of his words, had planted a seed of doubt, challenging the man's commitment to his nefarious course of action.
The outcome hung in the balance, the tension thickening as the seconds ticked away. The resolution of the standoff would hinge upon the man's response and the choices he would make in the face of Midnight's unwavering determination.
The man, visibly displeased by Midnight's interruption, struggled to maintain his composure. His words slurred and stumbled, a clear indication of his inebriated state. With a wavering voice, he attempted to dissuade Midnight from playing the hero.
"D-don't be the hero, kid," he stammered, his words punctuated by hiccups of intoxication. "I-it'll only g-get you hurt."
Midnight's fist clenched with bone-crushing force, unleashing a surge of raw power that birthed a colossal hard light blade from his Gauntlet Shadowstrike. The prototype Gauntlet, rugged and unrefined in design, showcased its experimental nature through its jagged edges and exposed circuitry. The hard light blade hummed with lethal energy, the faint glow of cerulean blue emanating sporadically from certain sections, hinting at the untamed power contained within. Shadows danced upon the Gauntlet's uneven surface, revealing a testament to its unfinished evolution.
In an instant, the man's hand darted toward his crude knife, seizing it tightly as he lunged at Midnight with a surge of determination. Midnight, driven by his resolve to avoid killing, swiftly deactivated the lethal blade of his weapon. Before he could react, the man's weapon found its mark, slashing against Midnight's side, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Undeterred, Midnight seized the man's arm with a fierce grip, his eyes ablaze with resolve. With a swift and calculated strike, he delivered a forceful kick to the back of the man's leg, causing him to crumple to the ground in agony.
As the man writhed in pain, clutching his injured leg, Midnight fought through the searing discomfort in his side. He knew he couldn't let his guard down. With a surge of adrenaline, he swiftly assessed the situation, his instincts honed from years of combat training. Gathering his strength, Midnight lunged forward, his knee rising with precision and force. It connected with the man's face in a devastating strike, sending shockwaves through his skull. The man's body jerked backward, crashing to the ground with a thud. A mix of pain and surprise contorted his features.
Seizing the opportunity, Midnight swiftly regained his composure and stood his ground, his eyes locked on the man. Sensing defeat and overwhelmed by fear, the man's survival instincts kicked in. With a panicked scramble, he scrambled to his feet, his injured leg slowing his escape. In a desperate bid to flee, the man stumbled away, his movements erratic and unsteady. Midnight watched him retreat, his focus unwavering.
Midnight, his side throbbing with pain, approached the injured Faunus. Concern etched on his face, he gently asked, "Are you okay?" Her bloodshot amethyst eyes met his, reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude, before nodding weakly.
Unbeknownst to them, a Huntress had been silently observing the altercation from a distance. Her keen senses and compassionate nature compelled her to intervene. With a graceful stride, she swiftly approached the duo, her presence exuding a reassuring aura.
"Allow me to assist," the Huntress offered, her voice carrying a soothing tone. She looked like she was in her late thirties, with piercing void purple eyes and long dark blue hair. "You've both been through a lot. Let's find a safe place where we can tend to your wounds and ensure your well-being." Her eyes radiated empathy as she extended a hand to the injured Faunus, signifying her intent to help.
Grateful for the timely arrival of a Huntress, Midnight nodded appreciatively. With the stranger's support, they would navigate the streets of Mistral to a small bar. It looked slightly better than most of the buildings in this part of the city, especially with its bright red neon sign that read 'Crimson Embers'. As they went inside the bar, a man wearing a deep crimson button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves, adorned with subtle black trim tucked into black slacks, caught Midnight's eye. He had a chiseled jaw with a long scar running over his left eye, strong brown eyes, and short black hair.
The man behind the bar was the epitome of rugged charm, with an air of experience and a no-nonsense demeanor. As Midnight and the injured Faunus entered, he paused from his work to cast a discerning gaze in their direction.
Midnight, his side still throbbing from the recent scuffle, approached the bar with a wary yet determined expression. The Huntress, following closely, offered her support to the injured Faunus, guiding her gently to a nearby stool. She whispered words of reassurance, her voice a soothing balm to the Faunus's frayed nerves.
The man behind the bar acknowledged their presence with a nod, his scarred eye giving him a mysterious air. He reached for a glass and began to fill it with water, sliding it toward Midnight. The gesture spoke volumes—here was a man who had seen his fair share of trouble and understood the unspoken language of those seeking refuge.
Midnight accepted the glass with a nod of gratitude. He took a sip of water, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat as he collected his thoughts. His gaze remained locked on the injured Faunus, ensuring she was receiving the care and attention she needed.
The Huntress, her name still unknown to Midnight, leaned in closer to the Faunus, examining her injuries with a practiced eye. "You're going to be alright," she assured the Faunus, her voice steady and reassuring. "We'll get you patched up in no time."
The Faunus, though still shaken, managed a weak smile of gratitude. She silently mouthed a 'thank you' to Midnight, her eyes reflecting a newfound sense of hope.
Midnight turned his attention to the man behind the bar, his voice firm but respectful. "Thank you for your assistance. We appreciate it."
The man inclined his head slightly, acknowledging Midnight's words. "It's a tough world out there," he replied, his voice carrying a grizzled wisdom. "We all need a helping hand from time to time."
With that, the three of them settled into a tense calm, the bar's atmosphere providing a temporary respite from the harsh realities of Mistral's streets. Midnight knew that their encounter with the man behind the bar and the compassionate Huntress was a stroke of luck in a city where kindness could be a rare commodity.
As Midnight's side continued to throb, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. He had come to Mistral seeking freedom, but in doing so, he had also taken on the responsibility of defending those who couldn't defend themselves. It was a duty he didn't take lightly, and he knew that this city held countless challenges and trials ahead.
For now, though, he found solace in the knowledge that there were others, like the Huntress and the mysterious bartender, who shared his commitment to justice and compassion. Together, they would navigate the treacherous path that lay before them, each step bringing them closer to their own definitions of freedom and redemption in the city of Mistral.
The minutes stretched into hours as Midnight, the injured Faunus, and the Huntress found refuge in the dimly lit sanctuary of the Crimson Embers bar. It was a place that had witnessed countless stories, both tragic and triumphant, in the heart of Mistral's unforgiving streets.
As Midnight's initial adrenaline rush began to wane, the pain from his side injury became increasingly pronounced. He couldn't afford to ignore it any longer. With a measured breath, he finally addressed the bartender, his voice conveying a mix of gratitude and urgency.
"Is there a nearby place where I can find medical assistance?" Midnight asked, his tone polite yet resolute. He needed to get his wound tended to, especially if he was to continue his mission to protect those in need.
The bartender, who had been quietly observing the trio, nodded thoughtfully. "There's a clinic not too far from here," he replied, gesturing in the direction of a nearby street. "It's run by a skilled doctor, discreet and trustworthy. They'll take care of you."
Midnight nodded his thanks and turned to the Huntress who had been tending to the injured Faunus. "I'll go get my wound treated," he said. "Please stay with her, make sure she's safe."
The Huntress nodded in understanding, her violet eyes reflecting a depth of compassion. "Of course. We'll be right here when you return."
With a nod of acknowledgment to both of them, Midnight made his way out of the bar and into the bustling streets of Mistral. The city's chaotic energy surged around him, a constant reminder of the challenges he faced in his quest for freedom and justice.
Following the bartender's directions, Midnight soon found himself at the discreet clinic. It was a small, unassuming building tucked away from the main thoroughfare, a place where those seeking anonymity could find solace in times of need.
Inside, a skilled doctor tended to Midnight's wound with precision and care. It was a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the streets, a reminder that even in the darkest corners of Mistral, there were those who dedicated their lives to healing and compassion.
As Midnight received treatment, he couldn't help but think about the events of the day. He had stepped in to protect the vulnerable, just as he had always done during his time with the Shadowfang. But this time, it felt different. It felt like a step towards reclaiming his own agency, a reminder that he was no longer a slave to the whims of others.
Once his wound was dressed and his pain had subsided, Midnight left the clinic with a renewed sense of purpose. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was determined to face them head-on, just as he had faced the man who had threatened the Faunus earlier.
Returning to the Crimson Embers bar, Midnight found the Huntress and the Faunus in a quieter, more peaceful state. The Faunus had been tended to, her injuries bandaged, and her spirits lifted by the Huntress's reassuring presence.
Midnight approached them, a sense of camaraderie and gratitude filling the air. "Thank you for your help," he said to the Huntress, his voice carrying the weight of his appreciation. "I couldn't have done it without you."
The Huntress smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting a sense of shared purpose. "We're all in this together," she replied. "In a city like Mistral, we need to look out for each other."
As Midnight settled back into his seat at the bar, he couldn't help but feel that he was one step closer to finding his own place in this city of contrasts. In the Crimson Embers bar, amidst the shadows and the stories, he had discovered allies who shared his commitment to justice and compassion. And with their support, he was determined to make a difference in Mistral, one act of kindness and courage at a time.
