A/N: No character is owned by me.
The story takes place Pre-RWBY and during first 3 vol of RWBY and it will be an AU.
if you have read or reading my story Captain Vale, you can assume it is a prequel to that. While Captain Vale stands on its own there are some elements in this story that will spoil that one, so if you really like that story, spoilers warning.
Prologue
In the dim ambience of the room, the soft, orange glow from a fireplace illuminated the space. The flames danced, their erratic ballet casting ephemeral shadows that played hide and seek across the worn wooden walls and the rugged beams. A faint, smoky scent wafted in the air, intertwined with the earthy notes of dried herbs.
Summer's eyes, a striking shade of silver reminiscent of moonlit nights, began to flutter open. They momentarily danced in confusion, pupils adjusting to the room's scant light. The surroundings, a testament to a bygone era, felt alien to her. Every intake of breath she took carried a hint of panic, revealing her unease. She remembered she was on that mission, when 'they' ambushed her. She was on death's door and the weight of her promise to return to her family, the memory of their faces, pressed heavily on her heart.
Her gaze wandered upwards, resting briefly on the ceiling overhead. Its wood, marked and worn by time, spoke silent tales of years passed. The fireplace on her right continued its fiery waltz, casting warmth that was both comforting and slightly oppressive. And as her eyes adjusted further, the realization dawned that she was on a makeshift bed, cushioned by an assortment of furs and blankets.
A sudden urge to rise overcame her. However, as she made the attempt, pain, sharp and brutal, seized her. It felt like white-hot chains binding her down. Her face, momentarily distorted with the intensity of it, was a portrait of agony.
Then, breaking the weighty silence, a voice spoke. Surprisingly young in its timbre yet with an undercurrent of steadiness, it advised, "Your wounds are still fresh. I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Her silver orbs, now wide with surprise, sought the speaker. And there he was – a boy, his age barely past kindergarten, with a mane of snow-white hair framing a face so fair it looked untouched by the sun. Those light blue eyes, inquisitive yet calm, regarded her with a mix of concern and scrutiny.
With a deftness that seemed incongruous with his tender age, the boy filled a bowl with the steaming concoction he'd been brewing by the fireplace. Approaching her, he deftly assisted her to a slightly upright position, presenting the bowl. "This will help relieve some pain," he stated, the conviction in his voice unwavering.
Summoning her strength, Summer began, "Who...?" But she couldn't complete her sentence, perplexed by the presence of the child. The surroundings, his age, everything seemed out of place.
The boy, reading the confusion in her eyes, replied, "You can call me Victor. Victor Von Doom. I might be young, but I know what I'm doing. As for you? Care to explain what a lone huntress was doing in such a secluded area of Solitas, far from any Kingdom? I thought your kind operated in teams."
Attempting to find her voice again, she started, "I..."
But the boy, showing surprising authority, interjected. Holding up an electronic device, he said, "And before you try to make any excuses, Miss Rose, I'm aware that you weren't on any official mission." He tapped the screen, displaying her credentials, "Hunter License: Summer Rose, Place of Issue: Vale, Authority: Beacon Academy. I've already hacked your scroll, just so you know."
The forest of Solitas was a silent spectacle, a world blanketed in snow and touched only lightly by the fingers of sunlight that peeked through the dense canopy. Trees stood tall and firm, their branches heavy with ice and snow, creating an ethereal ambiance that whispered of ancient secrets and timeless beauty.
Victor led the way, each step he took leaving a soft imprint on the snowy floor. He was bundled up in a series of warm jackets, their fur lining visible at the collar, a testament to the bitter chill of the region. Behind him, Summer followed wearing her iconic white cape, her aura shimmering ever so slightly, an almost invisible shield against the cold. Stacked firewood was cradled in her arms, a testament to their shared task in the forest.
The only sound for the longest time was the soft crunch of their boots on the snow and the occasional caw of a distant bird or a growl of a grimm. An uneasy silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts, stretched between them.
Victor was the one who first broke it. Without turning his head, he posed his question, "So, Miss Rose, does Grimm have a leader?" The suddenness of it, the directness, caused Summer to misstep, the stack of woods in her grasp nearly tumbling. But with deft hands and a quick reaction, she managed to steady herself.
"Why?... Why would you think that, Victor?" Her voice, usually composed, carried an undertone of nervousness.
"Just curious," Victor began, his tone methodical, analytical. "From the nature of your wounds it is clear you were attacked by some human or a Faunus attacker. Yet rather than being on guard against potential human threats, you seem to be perpetually wary of the Grimms. But why would you do so? You are a huntress, you hunt Grimms, you should not be afraid to face Grimms, but you are, as if encountering one would bring back those who hurt you. Which, logically speaking, should be absurd. Grimm are soulless creatures; how could they communicate or coordinate? Unless..." He trailed off for a moment, letting the implication hang in the air before turning to face Summer, "Unless they're being commanded by someone."
Summer halted, her silver eyes widened in a mixture of shock and realization. The woods in her hands felt heavier. Victor's gaze looked into her eyes, prompting her for a response.
"So, does Grimms have a leader?"
"NO!" The force of Summer's denial echoed through the woods, causing a flock of birds to take flight from a nearby tree. She paused, taking a breath to compose herself. "I mean... no. Victor I've been recovering from my injuries, and I don't want to attract Grimms, that's all. And who told you I was attacked? I fell from a mountain, didn't I made it clear to you."
Victor held her gaze for a heartbeat longer before turning away, continuing their trek. "If you say so. Come on, Latveria is not far away" he murmured, the weight of skepticism evident in his voice.
Latveria, if it could be called that, stretched out in a landscape of broken promises and memories long forgotten. As Victor and Summer stepped into the boundaries of the settlement, a cold wind swept through, carrying with it whispers of tales long buried. The skeletal remains of structures spoke of an era when laughter and life had once graced this land, but now, all that remained was silence and shadows.
"You should head to the palace now" Victor said abruptly, his voice slicing through the hush, reminding Summer of her present reality. "The cold isn't conducive for your recovery." He reached out, effortlessly taking the stack of wood from her, a silent testament to his surprising strength.
Summer could only nod, watching as the boy - so young yet bearing burdens seemingly far beyond his years - began his work without a word of complaint. Her heart ached, not from her wounds, but from the weight of the unknowns surrounding her situation. She had been trapped in this desolate place for a month, cut off from her allies and, more agonizingly, from her beloved daughters. They must be devastated, she mused, their innocent faces etched with grief, believing their mother lost forever.
Taking a deep breath, she moved towards what Victor had referred to as "his palace." As she did so, she cast her gaze around what Von Doom called, "Latveria". "Latveria" seemed too grand a term for it. This was more of a ghost town, remnants of a once-thriving community, now standing desolate after a Grimm onslaught. How, she wondered, could Victor possibly have survived here alone?
The enigma that was Victor Von Doom intrigued and troubled her in equal measure. He embodied the very qualities she hoped her own daughters would develop brilliance, resilience, and resourcefulness. Yet, there was also a chilling detachment to him, an emotionless veneer that seemed impenetrable. His every word was measured, each action calculated. It was as if he existed in a bubble of self-imposed isolation, untouched by the warmth of human connection.
Time and again, she'd tried to pierce that shell, to understand the heart of this boy who could hack into sophisticated devices yet chose to live in an abandoned settlement. "Where is your family? Why are you here?" she had asked. But his responses were always the same, evoking more questions than answers. "This is Latveria, my kingdom and my only home."
The mere mention of "Latveria" confounded her further. No known records or maps mentioned such a place. And his inexplicable skills? They hinted at a past, a life beyond these ruins, but Victor's lips remained sealed.
Approaching the house, Summer felt a shiver, not from the cold, but from the weight of the unknowns surrounding her and her perplexing young companion.
The room was aglow with the orange embers of the fireplace, its warmth acting as a shield against the biting cold of the night. Summer sat wrapped in a heavy blanket, her frame more frail than when she first arrived in the desolate town. Beside her, young Victor Von Doom, with a face that spoke of maturity far beyond his years, nursed a bowl of piping hot soup. The rich aroma wafted through the room, mingling with the scent of burning wood.
Their silence was comfortable, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire and the soft sipping sounds as they took turns consuming their meal. The room was filled with an array of mismatched furniture, telling tales of scavenged remnants from what was once a thriving community. Yet, amidst the chaos of their surroundings, in this small corner of the room, a semblance of home had been established.
Summer's silver eyes gazed at the flickering flames, memories of her family and friends back in Vale swirling in their depths. Beside her, young Victor Von Doom investigated the fire as well, but his gaze was deep and contemplative, a far cry from the innocence one would expect from a child his age.
She sighed, shifting slightly to find a comfortable position, the pain from her wounds ever-present. Though she had moments where she felt invincible, they were fleeting. Most days, she was reminded of her vulnerability, held together by Victor's concoctions and sheer willpower.
"Do you believe in magic?"
Summer, used to Victor's abrupt and profound questions, took a deep breath, her gaze drifting to the flickering flame of the candle. "Maybe," she began, a twinkle in her eyes. "Why did you ask, Victor?"
"Just curious," he replied simply, but the intensity of his stare hinted at a deeper quest for understanding.
Summer chuckled softly, her voice carrying a motherly warmth. "You're curious about a lot of things, Victor."
Victor's brow furrowed slightly in thought. "Well, you hunters have special powers or whatnot, right? Do you believe that is magic?"
Summer tilted her head, considering the question. "You're asking about semblance?"
"Yes, if that's what it's called."
Summer nodded slowly; her eyes distant as if recalling memories from a distant past. "No, I don't think semblance is magic. It's a manifestation of who we are, something that makes each of us unique. Magic, on the other hand, is something entirely different."
Victor, always eager to learn, pressed on. "Then how do you define magic?"
"I see magic as a force that exists in all of us," Summer began slowly, "It's what connects us to one another."
Victor's eyes widened just a fraction. "So, you're saying it's like an organ? Like your eyes?" He paused, gazing at her intently. "Are they magic?"
A momentary silence settled between them. Summer's eyes, filled with years of experiences and memories, twinkled. "More like your heart," she replied with a gentle smile.
Victor frowned in genuine confusion. "My heart? So, if I were to examine it, would I find magic within?"
Summer laughed softly, the sound echoing pleasantly in the room. "I didn't mean it quite so literally, Victor. What I mean is that by locking yourself away in Latveria, you're shutting out the world and all its wonders. I truly believe that once you open your heart to the world and its experiences, you'll discover the magic within it. The world outside is vast and beautiful, and I promise, once I'm well, I'll show it to you. You could even befriend my daughters."
Victor raised an eyebrow, his demeanor stern. "A promise implies agreement from both parties. I haven't agreed to leave my kingdom, nor to any friendships."
Shaking her head with amusement, Summer smirked. "Ok, Mr. Grumpy Pants. How about I tell you a story, then? Have you ever heard the tale of the king of magic?"
Victor's interest piqued, evident from the tilt of his head. "There's a story?"
Summer smiled, "Do you want to hear it?"
It has been three months since Summer Rose found herself at the ghost town which Victor Von Doom called "Latveria".
The time had been challenging, not least because of her deteriorating health. Summer, once a vibrant huntress and a mother of two, was now relying on Victor, for basic necessities like food and shelter. This dependency rankled her. It was a deep blow to her pride and independence.
Victor had been a pillar of support, caring for her with a maturity that belied his young age. But his constant preoccupation with gathering resources had given Summer ample time to explore his town "Latveria".
Latveria itself was a paradox as big as him. An abandoned settlement with no known records, it was smaller than the communities she had encountered outside the kingdoms but still substantial enough to have housed a population of perhaps 100 to 200 people in its heyday. Her curiosity piqued, she studied the architecture and layout, recognizing the remnants of what had once been a thriving town.
Victor had named everything after himself, literally. His "palace", a dilapidated structure that stood defiantly amid the ruins, has a grandiose name of "Castle of Doom". There was the "Citadel of Doom," a ram shack building converted into a makeshift library filled with texts and manuscripts which Victor deemed important. There was a "Doom Depot", a storage facility, well-stocked with food and provisions. Also, the "Doom Lab of Science and Innovation," a kind of trash yard, where Victor spent hours engrossed in silly experiments. When she asked him about the nomenclature, he answered with a straight face that as the ruler of Latveria, everything in it belonged to him and should be named after him. His sincerity made her laugh, a momentary escape from her debilitating condition.
As she delved deeper into the history of Latveria, the town revealed its secrets in fragments. It had suffered Grimm attacks, but the extent of the damage seemed marginal compared to the real horrors it had faced. The crumbled homes bore the scars of blasts, indicative of weaponry far more advanced than anything the Grimm could wield. Charred remnants spoke of fires deliberately set, and bullet casings littered the ground amid the ruins.
Summer was puzzled. All signs pointed to human hands as the agents of Latveria's destruction. But why? She could only think of Atlas, with its military might, as a possible perpetrator. Yet, the strategic relevance of Latveria, a secluded town in the remote northeast region of Solitas, was unclear. The only thing significant she could find was the town 's population had been largely gypsies. But what value had this town held for anyone to desire its annihilation? What could Victor's role be here? And why would anyone want to kill gypsies? She was clueless.
Another month ebbed away, marking it as the fourth since Summer Rose found herself ensnared in the enigmatic grasp of Latveria. Most days, her frail body seemed to have formed a begrudging alliance with the bed, with only sporadic flares of vigor granting her fleeting moments of autonomy. The stony walls of her room, lit by the ever-present flicker of a fireplace, had witnessed many a desperate attempt by Summer to establish contact with the outside world.
She had tried just about everything: from harnessing her aura to amplify her recovery, to the dismantling and repurposing of any piece of tech she could discreetly get her hands on. Her efforts were geared towards linking with the nearest CCT towers, hoping that the sophisticated global network would connect her to someone – anyone – who could come to her rescue. Yet every endeavor met with a frustrating silence, like throwing pebbles into an abyss.
On one particularly weak day, she had appealed to Victor, her voice laced with a concoction of desperation and determination, "Victor, you must know of a way to contact Atlas or even Vale, any nearby settlement." The weight of her isolation pressed down on her, and she found herself a breath away from tears. "I have a family waiting for me, Victor. Daughters, a husband..."
The young prodigy, with that ever-present inscrutable expression, had simply responded, "Latveria stands on its own." It was an answer she had come to expect from him, one that danced around the truth but never truly approached it. His cold, calculative demeanor was in sharp contrast to the myriad emotions swirling within her.
Victor's astounding technical prowess was no secret to her. She had witnessed, with her own eyes, the manner in which he could resurrect pieces of discarded technology, breathing into them a second life. His talents seemed almost magical, a stark contrast to the desolation of their surroundings. It was this very skill that deepened Summer's suspicions. Why was he so unwilling to assist her in contacting the outside world? What was he hiding? Or perhaps more pertinently, from whom was he hiding?
This unspoken tension, the palpable chasm of mistrust, had slowly erected a barrier between the two. While Victor undoubtedly cared for her well-being, ensuring she was nursed back to health, there was an unmistakable emotional detachment. Summer couldn't shake off the feeling that he was guarding a secret, one that was tethered to his very soul, and that this secret somehow linked to his obstinacy in keeping them isolated.
Each day in Latveria added another layer to her worry. She found herself haunted by visions of her daughters: Ruby, with those sparkling silver eyes, so like her own, and little Yang, her sunny disposition providing warmth in the coldest of times. And then there was Taiyang, her anchor, whose embrace she longed for. The thought of her enemies discovering her family's whereabouts, exploiting their vulnerabilities in her absence, was a torment that gnawed at her every waking moment.
The emotional toll was evident. While Summer's physical injuries have healed over time, the psychological scars remain etched with agonizing uncertainties that plagued her mind day in and day out.
She is willing to see anyone now, even her former friend Raven.
One evening, as the sun set and dusk began its descent, casting the landscape in hues of red and orange, Summer made her most daring attempt at escape. Her semblance, a unique manifestation of her aura, had always been her trump card, a force to be reckoned with. She decided to use it to its limit in hope to find a way out of the dark and cold forests of Solitas.
Drawing upon its energy, Summer felt a surge of power, and her form began to shimmer, her outline blurring as she sought to make herself imperceptible, using her cape to cloak herself. She knew it was risky, given her weakened state, and her enemies literally everywhere, but she was desperate and determined to find any way she could reach her home and to feel the embrace of her loved ones.
However, as she traversed the dense forests, her strength waned rapidly. The physical exertion coupled with the constant drain of her semblance began to overwhelm her. Her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears, each step becoming more arduous than the last. She stumbled, her vision swimming, her body betraying her will.
That's when Victor found her.
Emerging from the shadows, his little hands reached out just in time, catching her frail form before she collided with the cold, hard ground. For a moment, his guard dropped, and Summer saw something she hadn't before - a genuine look of concern etched on his young face.
Holding her close, he whispered, more to himself than to her, "Why did you push yourself this far? You could have died."
She struggled to reply, her voice barely above a whisper, "I need to... get back... to them."
Victor's eyes met hers, the moonlight revealing the depth of emotion that lay therein. He hesitated, grappling with his own internal conflict, before finally saying, "Let's get you back. You need to recover."
Under the silver sheen of the fractured moon, a fragile truce had formed between Summer and Victor. The atmosphere, always thick with tension, seemed to lighten as the night draped around them.
The moonlight lent an ethereal glow to their surroundings, painting everything in a soft, diffused luminescence. The gentle hum of crickets served as their ambient background, occasionally interrupted by the soft rustling of leaves or the distant hoot of an owl.
Victor, his face a blend of earnest curiosity and youthful naivety, turned his gaze from the broken celestial body to Summer. His eyes, usually so intense, now carried a shade of vulnerability. "What did you want to achieve outside?" he began, pausing to gather his thoughts. "I mean outside of your family, your daughters. What purpose do you have?"
Summer's silver eyes lingered on the fragmented moon; its beauty tragically marred yet still captivating. The question seemed to pull her from the recesses of her memories, her thoughts. She sighed, a soft exhalation of breath, laden with the weight of many unsaid words. "I am a huntress, Victor," she said, her voice soft and resolute. "I fight Grimm, protect the innocent, help people."
Victor shifted, his fingers playing with a small gadget he had been tinkering with earlier. It was a habit he had whenever he was deep in thought. "That's your job," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "But I am asking about the purpose of your life," he pushed further. "Do you want to be famous? To be remembered for generations? Or perhaps aspire to amass great wealth and buy whatever you desire? Or maybe, you wish to be the strongest, be it to protect or avenge?"
Summer's gaze remained steadfast on the moon, her voice pensive. "I don't desire fame, nor riches, nor supreme power, Victor. I just want to help people."
Victor's frown deepened. His analytical mind, always seeking precision and clarity, grappled with her words. "But that doesn't define any concrete purpose. 'Help' is such a nebulous term. Its definition can vary vastly from person to person. You can't just declare an intention to 'help' without outlining what exactly you aim to aid or address."
Instead of responding directly, Summer let her smile answer him. It was gentle, reflective, and deeply profound. "I once dreamed of a world where suffering was an alien concept," she finally whispered, her words carrying the weight of countless encounters with despair. "I'm acutely aware that I can't bring such a utopia into existence. But that doesn't deter me from striving towards it."
Victor studied her face, the play of moonlight on her features, and something within him shifted. It wasn't complete comprehension, but it was a start. A glimmer of understanding, of respect for a viewpoint that was so diametrically opposite to his own. For the first time, perhaps, he saw not just the huntress, but the woman with a dream that transcended personal ambition – a dream that, in its very simplicity, was incredibly profound.
The winds had changed direction, heralding a new chapter. Summer Rose felt a rebirth. Six arduous months had passed since her rescue by the enigmatic Victor Von Doom. Today, her spirits soared. The sun's rays felt warmer, and the once-familiar chains of pain and weakness were now mere memories.
She watched Victor approach, the morning light catching a silvery fish on his hook. The young boy's resourcefulness had never ceased to amaze her. She had always been grateful, but today, an inkling of doubt crept in her.
"Ms. Rose?" His voice held a mix of surprise and genuine concern. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Vic, I am leaving today."
A myriad of emotions played across Victor's face. "But your health," he said, his voice shaking slightly.
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she declared, "I'm back to my old self, Vic." She was resolute, but there was a part of her, the part that remembered her promise, that softened her stance. "I'll be back for you once I reach Atlas. Just like I promise."
Victor's hesitation was palpable. "Perhaps some more of my medicine soup will help solidify your recovery?"
Summer interrupted, her suspicion evident. "I stopped taking it a week ago, Victor. And surprisingly, I felt better almost immediately."
Victor shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence waning. She pressed on, "What was in that medicine, Victor?"
Reluctantly, he admitted, "Some Local herbs and animal bones from here and there. It is a great remedy for pain …" His voice trailed off.
Seeing his evasiveness, Summer persisted. "And? Tell me the truth Victor"!
He met her gaze, "It has some side effects, including aura exhaustion, weakness, and even temporary paralysis."
The realization hit Summer hard. Her savior might have been her captor. "You... You've been poisoning me? keeping me here. For what?"
Victor's face showed no emotions. "I should have seen it coming. You are right, Ms. Rose, I was the one responsible that you were unable to recover, and I am the one responsible that you are still unable to leave."
The atmosphere was thick with tension, every breath seeming heavy. The weight of betrayal bore down on Summer's shoulders, making her already weakened stance falter. She struggled to reconcile the image of Victor, the savior she had grown fond of, with the Victor who stood before her now.
"Why, Victor?" she whispered, anguish evident in her voice. "After everything, why would you do this?"
Victor's gaze was steely, his childish innocence replaced with a resolute demeanor. "Ms. Rose, when I found you on your deathbed, I frankly had no intention to help you. It's only after realizing some strange energy coming from you, I become interested. I have heard the silver-eyed warriors possess very unique abilities, " he paused, "abilities that could benefit me immensely."
Her heart raced, anger and betrayal vying for dominance. "You wanted to exploit me? Use my powers, my lineage as a mere experiment?"
Without hesitation, Victor affirmed, "Yes and I did". Summer could see his eyes flickered with silver shine for a moment. Victor continued "I am still working on circumventing the emotional requirements, but I believe with further research it will not take me long to harness this power to its full potential".
Summer's eyes, wet with tears, bore into him. "I looked at you as family, Victor. I cared for you. I saw my own child in you."
Victor's expression softened, if only just a bit. "And you've been invaluable to me. The research, the findings I've gathered these past months would've taken years otherwise. If you give me some more time and your cooperation, help me reach what I desire and I promise that I will make sure you return to your family safely".
Summer's anger bubbled up, "And what could a mere child like you want from all this?"
His answer was simple yet chilling: "Power."
His eyes met hers, piercing and dark. "Power, Ms. Rose. I want power," he declared, every syllable laced with a determination that was unsettling coming from someone so young.
"Ms. Rose, I know you've been researching this town and you may understand some of its history, and its people. Latveria was once a prosperous place. My mother grew up here, in a community that was self-sufficient and at peace."
He paused; his fists clenched. "They live far away from any kingdom and are not a threat to anyone, they were self-sufficient enough to survive grimm attacks, winter, but those in power who ran the kingdoms saw my people as dangerous. Yet they branded us—branded our ways and arts—as heretical. The powers that be, the rulers sitting on their thrones in the kingdoms, decided we were expendable."
Victor continued, his voice thick with emotion. "Atlas came one fateful day and reduced everything to ashes. My people's homes, their lives, their culture—gone in a storm of fire and steel. They erased Latveria from the map like we were some sort of mistake they could simply undo."
Victor's eyes flared with a raw intensity Summer had never seen in him before. "The survivors, what was left of my people, became pariahs, wanderers who no one would take in. Forced to live their lives in the margins, in squalor and disgrace."
Suddenly, Victor stepped forward, his face inches from hers. "Ms. Rose, you once told me you wanted to help. Today I ask you the same. Lend me your abilities and help me burn the kingdom to the ground which destroyed my home. With your help I can make them feel the agony they inflicted upon Latveria. And I promise you that Victor Von Doom will create a new world—a world in which there will be no suffering."
His words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Summer stared at Victor, trying to reconcile the innocent boy she thought she knew with the vengeful soul standing before her. She wondered, deep down, if there was still hope for him—or if his quest for power had consumed the child, she once considered family.
Summer's brow furrowed; her anger replaced with genuine concern as she addressed Victor. "The tragedy that befell Latveria was undoubtedly a grave injustice, Victor," she began, "but seeking vengeance, sowing discord, and craving power... these are not the answers."
She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I want to help you, Victor," she offered, her voice quivering with earnestness. As she said those words, Victor's eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting such a proposal from her.
Summer's gaze softened as she approached him, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Not by granting you power or exacting revenge, but by showing you that there's another way. A path filled with love, understanding, and hope."
She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle. With a gentle smile, she added, "Come with me to my home. Remember when I promised to show you the world's beauty? My daughters will be thrilled to meet you. You can forge genuine bonds with them, learn what it means to have a family again. And there are others, good-hearted people, who would be willing to stand by you and help you heal."
Stretching out her hand, Summer beckoned, "Come with me, Victor."
Victor seemed to be in a battle with himself, his young eyes darting back and forth, reflecting the internal struggle within him. The weight of his past, his anger, and his longing for retribution fought against the chance of redemption and love Summer was offering. He hesitated for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, he pulled back, gently rejecting her outstretched hand. "I appreciate your kindness, Ms. Rose, but Latveria is my Kingdom. I cannot abandon it. You are free to leave".
Summer's face fell, disappointment and fear mingling in her eyes. Seeing the determination in Victor's eyes she could only nod.
But as she turned to leave, Victor's chilling voice stopped her in her tracks. "I hope you survive the fall this time, Ms. Rose."
The surrounding area was filled with the nightmarish chorus of the creatures of Grimm. Their guttural roars echoed eerily, and shadows shifted ominously in the periphery. Summer's heart raced as she realized the gravity of her situation.
Her eyes widened in horror. "Victor... what have you done?"
Victor's previously innocent face was now marred by a malevolent smile. "Did I not mention? The last six months with you have been... educational."
Without another word, Victor began retreating toward his palace, leaving Summer to face the encroaching nightmare. "Farewell, Ms. Rose," he whispered coldly as the very ground seemed to quake under the onslaught of the creatures, and all that left was chaos.
E/N: I hope you like it. My idea was to keep this story part of Captain Vale, but that mean too many flashbacks for both hero and villain.