Authors' Notes:

Kept you waiting, huh? My job has been crazy busy with all the training and whatnot. I'm still going to do my best to maintain a monthly upload schedule but I might have to skip a month or two like I did for this chapter every once in a while.

I tried researching metals in RWBY to see if there are any element differences or rare ore differences. All I could find was an article post which I'm fairly certain is non-canon. Due to posting rules, I'm also fairly certain I'm not allowed to post the link, sorry. If you all find a good source for RWBY ores/minerals/elements let me know.

Lastly, I believe this will also be the chapter that officially makes me change the stories rating from T to M. A lot more violence in this chapter and I'm pretty sure you can't just say "starts teen but may progress to mature" and get away with the teen rating.

"Text"

"Speech"

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout, RWBY, or any associated characters.

Remnants of a Courier

Arc 4: Chaos Theory

Interlude

Chapter 36: Dance With the Devil

Joshua needed more moments like this.

The giant gas ball of indescribable heat and constant hydrogen fusion known as the sun was cresting over the horizon and into the sky. An interesting factoid when it came to science but overall nothing that would pique his interest for long. At the end of the day, it was a ball of fire a ludicrous distance away.

Despite knowing this, there was a more romantic part of him that enjoyed the way that ball of fire reflected light off the rooftops of the city. The way it shined and almost made the buildings twinkle in the morning light. How the sky changed colors and how it seemed the world itself was waking up.

It also gave the Courier a moment to take in the city. Six often spent much of his time gazing out over the city, looking at what probably once existed in his own world. He didn't get to do it often but it always left him a little awed.

Thinking back, he didn't even have a chance to properly appreciate the sight when he first saw it. He had been far too busy with Roman and the rest of his "associates" to stop and sightsee. A shame, as the beauty the city held and its sheer vastness were enough to make any individual from his world star-struck.

This was what the Courier was determined to bring back to the wastes. And not some soulless and cold Securitron-run grey hell. The real House was a capable individual but understanding humanity was far beyond him.

Of course, would the former House have tried to nuke the Mojave? No. So, on what ground could he judge the man?

That was still by far the gravest mistake the Courier ever made. It not only put the Mojave in danger of total destruction but he did so because he threw a temper tantrum. He would have thrown away everything he built there. All because of the betrayal of close allies mixed with everything falling apart after years of work. It all resulted in a fury the Courier didn't even realize he had to boil to the surface.

As for what came before his downfall; the slaughter, the examples made of people who defied him. Six still personally believed most if not all of those were needed. After all…

If you act like an animal, you deserve to die like one.

Not that any of that mattered at the moment. Right now he just needed to focus on getting the hydraulics for his new weapon in place. After all, power fists dished out a lot of pressure, and not gauging that pressure right could cause the piston to fail. And if the piston failed, well… It was a bad time for anyone wielding it.

Despite their inherent power and danger, power fists were fairly easy to make compared to some of his other weaponry. A fairly heavy glove made of several metals with hydraulic pistons attached. When pressure is released—say by punching something—the pistons shoot forward, the pistons launch the ram—a big chunk of Wulfsbann—which impacts with a large amount of pressure. The recoil mechanism kicks in afterward, dispersing the pressure for the user not only over a larger area—the glove and not just his hand—but also disperses it over a longer time. This means he hits at full force but feels a much smaller amount of recoil than his victim.

The metal for the ram—the Wulfsbann—is said to be cursed. Supposedly the metal was cursed by Grimm when they killed some wolf god long ago. Thus the metal's pitch black and red unnatural glowing "veins" coursing through it were normal. It would do for the Mimic's weapon.

Most thought Wulfsbann to be made of iron. In reality, it was some kind of hardened metal bordering on steel levels of strength. In fact, if the Courier took his time to analyze it on a molecular level, he would put money on it being a closer relative to steel than iron.

Of course, he also mixed in a good bit of other metals—such as chromium—to create something akin to stainless steel. It was probably more stable than many other metals Remnant had to offer. Likely only ship hulls and Huntsman weapons could match it. It was a first for both Remnant and Earth as it combined differing elements and metals from both worlds.

The design itself was relatively simple. A fairly standard power glove that was colored pitch black; the front ram piece having glowing lines running through it.

He was going to need a weapon like this if he ever hoped to keep up with Huntresses like Yang who were far stronger than your average human. Hell, Yang's gloves didn't even deal out force with motion and pressure but rather a literal pulse of kinetic energy. The girl could slap someone and the pulse would knock them back.

Of course, adding in her Aura and especially her Semblance made her weapons all the more dangerous.

The Courier hummed a tune to himself as he connected a piece of the piston to the ram.

"Connect the piston to the ra-am, make sure that the piston-cylinder is air-tight, don't mix the red and blue D-ust, and when all is said and d-one, it'll make your enemies d-ead." The Courier sang while performing the basic setup for the power fist.

Once the weapon was put together, the Courier set it on the table next to its counterpart. Two pitch-black power fists sat next to each other.

They both used Dust, a combination of small containers and tubes on the outside of the gauntlet containing the refined Dust to be used. On one glove were red and blue tubes and on the other were yellow and light green respectively. It clashed with the "style" of the Mimic but he needed to know which tube was which.

After all, each one contained Du-

A soft knock upon his chamber door knocked Six out of his ruminations. Who could possibly be wrapping against his chamber door at this hour?

"It's time for breakfast!" Ah, only Carmine, and nothing more.

The Courier shook off whatever morbid poet had come over him before dematerializing the gauntlets and heading for the door. Although now that he thought about it he needed more grenades and mines

"Papa is making omelets!"

Well, it could wait while he got breakfast at least.

The darkness surrounding Adam served its purpose well. It hid him from the chaos going on below and around him.

The Faunus sought out the S.D.C. compound, filled with legal and illegal firearms that were meant to be shipped. It was apparently one of the last remaining bastions in Vale of its kind since Jacques Schnee's death. Whitley wasn't as shrewd as his father.

Before Adam even arrived, the White Fang had stormed in, taken care of the guards, and was currently in the process of burning the place to the ground. And so he sat in the rafters of a warehouse, like some kind of coward. It gutted his pride to do so but there was a good reason for it…

The infiltration of the compound went smooth; a little too smooth. Most of the S.D.C. lackeys weren't particularly dangerous. The only real opposition were the few Atlesian androids stationed around the place.

With the low security that hadn't been a problem. In fact, Adam never stepped in, he didn't need to. The White Fang was made up of strong Faunus and they had done the job as he watched from the shadows.

Then things started to go wrong. People stopped reporting in, shots fired from seemingly nowhere, and White Fang members found dead. Adam had wanted to step from the shadows but stopped himself. He needed to see who he was up against before stepping out. To get the drop on these assailants.

Boxes were strewn below along with desks and other miscellaneous furniture. He could see almost everything from his vantage point. Including the six Faunus soldiers sitting below him. They were all individually sweeping the area for the hidden danger.

That's when he spotted them. Two figures clad in black and purple armor. It was a mixture of sleekness and efficiency as the body armor looked like it could withstand plenty of dust rounds. Vests mixed with some kind of thick coverings on certain parts of the body served to protect his enemies. They looked almost like some kind of spec ops with the dark aesthetic and masks.

The masks… They were purple and featureless. Dark and empty as the void. That's part of where they got their name from. A new merc group that formed in the waning life of Vale. A parasite that needed to be eradicated. It was easier said than done.

Each mercenary had previous extensive backgrounds in either military, previous mercenary work, or both. They were given top-of-the-line equipment, only being outmatched by Huntsman. Even the weapons they were carrying were some of the more advanced rifles created by Atlas; painted black to match their uniforms.

That was all the public really knew about the group. They had come out of pretty much nowhere in a manner of a few weeks. Everyone knew their technical owner but the man was a fool. Someone had to be pulling the strings behind the scene. To what end, not even Cinder knew.

They were probably being paid by S.D.C. to protect certain assets which meant they were disgusting Schnee sympathizers in Adam's eyes. Good enough reason for them to die.

Adam watched the two men circle around, using the furniture and darkness of the compound as cover. Nary making even a peep. One stopped at the edge of a box before holding up his hand. The mercenary made some kind of hand motion with two of his fingers and the other one moved forward to the next piece of furniture.

Once the two were in position, Adam watched as one of his soldiers scanned the area the two were in, drawing ever closer to their position. Once close enough, both Voidwalkers sprang to life.

The one that had moved to a new position grabbed the enemy's weapon and yanked it from the Faunus' hands while the other grabbed him from behind. A knife slid its way into the victim's throat as the mercenary carried him behind the crate he'd been hiding behind.

These two humans just killed a Faunus in front of him. Adam could feel his anger rise and decided he had seen enough.

He dropped from the ceiling landing behind the two. Both soldiers immediately turned and fired, not asking any questions.

Adam smirked as he pulled his blade out and absorbed the incoming dust rounds, fueling his semblance. When the two stopped firing, Adam sheathed his blade only to pull the trigger of his sheath and send it soaring towards the mercenaries.

To his surprise, they rolled in different directions, avoiding the wave of raw red kinetic energy he sent back at them. The two then jumped over the cover they were hiding behind and towards the rest of Adam's soldiers in the room; likely trying to get away from him. It wasn't going to happen.

However, when the bull Faunus went to chase them, and as the other White Fang spotted the two, a new threat emerged. Three other Voidwalkers that Adam hadn't spotted moved out from their various hiding spots in the warehouse and planted accurate shots into Adam's soldiers; dropping three of them.

The two soldiers fleeing from him fired as well, taking down the last White Fang members other than himself. Adam quickly found that he was now fighting a five-on-one fight.

The enraged Faunus charged forward, knowing full well that any average human would be destroyed by even below-average Huntsman. But the mercenary that had made the hand gestures before made another one now.

One of the Voidwalkers that he had failed to detect before threw what looked like a gre-

His world went white and his ears rang. The walking trash threw a flashbang at him! Adam let out a low growl and swung his arm around; knocking something over in the process. It felt like he was going to throw up but he had to hold himself together.

It was smart but still a cowardly tactic. Faunus were known to have night vision and enhanced senses. This made them prime targets for anything that preyed on those same senses, making the flashbang even more effective against him.

Slowly Adam's vision cleared; tears in his eyes. He couldn't hear much but he could see that he was alone now. The cowards used the flashbang to escape. They'd be back… No… He'd be going for them next time.

John Variance sat at the end of a table in a corner of the warehouse that had been retrofitted to function as a base of operations for the Voidwalkers. It was one of four others like it spread throughout the City of Vale. Their "employer" had been expanding the company quickly in a matter of a month or two and didn't seem like he was going to stop anytime soon.

The warehouse itself consisted of a garage area that held their armored Humvees on the eastern wing of the building, a supply and gun range hybrid towards the north end, and a small rec and dining area to the south. This only took up two-thirds of the building as the last third on the west side was used for the living space. The base could house up to 50 PMC's and equip them for battle.

That in and of itself was impressive. The rest of the reinforced walls, security points, information terminals that linked the bases together, and automated turrets made the place a small fortress and nigh impossible to take without a much larger force.

None of this yet addressed the scarred soldier or the rest of the soldiers in the room. Everyone there was wearing the sleek black and purple body armor and a good portion were also wearing the strange faceless masks that seemed to reflect all light around them. It was top-of-the-line armor in their line of work.

All of this information brought him to a conclusion that many had come to.

"There's no fuckin' way that Jeremy is running the show."

This was said by a new guy, Pines if John recalled. A callsign because he was from some backwoods town in southern Vale.

"Who cares? Just keep your head down and you get paid plenty." This was said by a woman who was wearing her armor from head to toe so he couldn't fully tell who it was from this distance.

"What do you mean who cares?" Pines shot back while waving his arm towards her. "Think Fog, think! A PMC comes out of nowhere and expands to the point of getting hired by Atlas and no one knows who's running the show. What if we're gonna get iced? It's dangerous working for people ya don't even know."

Fog shrugged her shoulders before responding, "does it matter? Mercenaries die in the line of work all the time. Whoever they are, they pay well and have provided the best security and gear Lien can get. Good enough for me."

They both had a point. Anyone in the Voidwalkers was secure in gear, a job, and protection so someone cared for their success. However, John also felt like the rug was going to get pulled out from under him at any moment.

What was more interesting to the current Captain in the Voidwalkers was who he guessed was really running this. That Joshua guy or Mimic or whoever the Dust he was.

John knew he didn't have that many friends or contacts from his days in the Valesian military. Not only had he been generally quiet and reserved when it came to making comrades but his actions weren't what most would call noble.

The Faunus War or Faunus Rights Revolution wasn't a pretty thing after all. It left old wounds on him even after the 18 or so years that had passed.

So it was strange when he received an invite to a PMC with glowing recommendations and was allowed a higher position as well. Even stranger when they were so well equipped and their fighting style was so similar to a certain someone's.

The then sergeant didn't have much interaction with Joshua but he had seen enough. Precise, efficient, and often brutal techniques were employed by the man against the incoming Grimm at Rhyt.

That night had been one of the most harrowing of his life. It wasn't often people survived the near slaughter of a town at the claws of Grimm. Even more so with the sheer force and numbers those Grimm had arrived in. The people of Rhyt even referred to it as the Black Day due to the overwhelming darkness the Grimm brought with them.

Bullets, explosives, fallback positions, close-quarters gunplay; were all skills that Joshua had shown off that day. All skills that the Mimic possessed. All skills were being taught at this location.

Some of the more savvy members of the company already noticed how their training reflected the Mimic's fighting style but for the most part that information remained on the down-low. Either the people that knew decided it wasn't worth the risk to voice their thoughts, chalked it up to coincidence, or liked the pay and gear too much.

For John, he was just tired. Tired of fighting systems and immediately being put in the dirt for it. Fighting for people that turned on him when he tried doing the right thing. Here, he got paid and no one questioned him. In turn, he didn't question them. Besides, the company itself wasn't doing anything shady as far as he knew.

All of their assignments were geared towards clearing Grimm, guarding supplies, or catching White Fang. Overall, a fairly honest and legal business.

Even the business's hiring process was strict. All members were picked from among the best soldiers who got out of the military or experienced mercenaries. The only exceptions being a select few young prodigious soldiers with promising initial experience under their belts. It didn't discriminate and based only on merit alone, a rare thing in some parts of the world. More importantly, every last one of them was professional and had that professionalism drilled into them even more upon signing on.

It resulted in a highly efficient and disciplined fighting force that even the Atlesian military would have a hard time competing with. It felt good to be one of them, to have that reputation. To belong to something respectable.

Of course, not everything was perfect. The Overseer was an issue for many in the Voidwalkers. People didn't like having tabs kept on them. Especially by an asshole who had a stick up said ass.

Donner Alfin: some former lieutenant for the Atlesian Military though the man didn't look like he was from Atlas. Don was a darker-skinned rat-Faunus if John recalled, a scar running up his left arm in a jagged pattern. He was unceremoniously discharged for being too cruel. It wasn't like Atlas was known for being soft either.

John recalled the public records he looked up about the man. There wasn't much but the few reports he read described Don as a meticulous and sometimes downright paranoid man. Willing to go the mile to stomp out any insubordination. The perfect man for the job he was in.

Still, the Captain suspected that the former lieutenant was here for other reasons. Everyone in the Voidwalkers could feel that something was amiss, that there was some mystery in the backend of Voidwalker Corp. that many were interested in solving. And he was pretty sure Don was there to curb any curiosity.

"That was a little too close for comfort," the feminine voice of a fully dressed Voidwalker muttered as she stepped into the building. "Can't believe the Mad Bull was there."

Fog and Pines turned from their conversation, the latter piping up, "you met the Mad Bull? Where?"

Variance took a moment to look over the group that just entered. It was hard to discern any features given the armor but the five of them looked to be of average height and build. Two females and three males.

One of the males replied, "on the last job. That one for the S.D.C. on the north side of Vale near the Forever Fall Forest; the warehouse job. He's a mean bastard."

"Just as dangerous as the reports say too. Strong, fast, lethal, and entirely willing to kill anyone in his way. He tried to take the head off of Burn here." Another male replied as he pointed to one of the smaller members of his group; a woman from what Variance could tell.

Codenames, something that was required among the Voidwalkers. John appreciated it, he liked his privacy. Though many often gave their names to their squadmates as a form of camaraderie. His own current codename was "Grey."

The now dubbed "Burn" took a step forward before continuing, "but he's just as vulnerable to loud noises and bright lights as any other Faunus. If you run into him, I'd recommend a flashbang followed by fleeing."

A fair assessment. It was likely none of them had any weapons that could punch through Huntsman Aura and live. Even a rogue Huntsman's Aura.

"Stop gabbing and get your reports in," John finally cut in as he stood from his seat. "I want to see reports on my desk by 1800 hours, understand?"

"Sir yes sir," the group replied in unison while saluting him.

It was good to be in charge.

Even though hair was in her face, Carmine was the happiest she had been in a long time. More than even her time at Beacon the day before. The sole reason for this was her Papa was happy too.

Her father returned to Joshua's apartment later in the morning but that didn't matter to her. What was far more important was the older man not using his cane to walk. That would have been enough to confuse her but seeing him walk on two legs fine without it was far more shocking.

And that was why her Papa was able to hold her in the air and spin her around like when she was younger. That and the shiny new grey prosthetic limb on his arm.

For a good while, Carmine got to enjoy the moment as her Papa chuckled while twirling her. But all good things come to an end and a long sigh escaped the man holding her as the red-haired girl was set down.

"You're better Papa?" She asked while tilting her head to the side to get her own hair out of her face.

Richter nodded his head as he replied, "yes my Little Lake. I was getting better at the hospital yesterday while you were at Beacon."

"So you went to the hospital? Why didn't we do that before?"

Carmine could hear footsteps behind her as she brushed the rest of her own red hair out of her eyes.

"The hospital came out with a new medical procedure that helped your gramps here." Looking up, the red-haired girl spotted Joshua in his bandages and more casual attire speaking to her.

It made sense. As long as "procedure" meant what she thought it did; she wasn't completely sure on that one. Carmine knew that hospitals were always getting better at helping people. And Papa deserved to be better. He had been hurt for a long time.

A yip from her room caused the girl to turn to the hallway of the apartment before smiling. The past couple of days were the best she had in a long time.

"I'm going to see what Chryse needs!" The ten-year-old got out before dashing into the hall and towards her room.

The two adults watched in silence as the near-teenager dashed towards her room before disappearing.

"So, why didn't you tell her you paid for not only my treatment and arm but for an experimental Aura procedure as well?"

Six thought over Richter's question. There were a few reasons. Chief among them being that he had a debt that needed to be paid back. But that wasn't all of it.

"Because I can afford it and I don't need gratitude for paying back what's owed." His answer gave Richter pause as the older man stared at him in thought.

The prosthetic and standard surgery costs for correcting Richter's hurt leg hadn't been that expensive; especially considering the Courier would likely have over 1,500,000 Lien in a week or two. In Old World currency that was probably worth a full million USD back in its heyday. He'd be a millionaire on Remnant; that thought brought a smile to the Courier's lips.

As for the experimental procedure, it was of his own design, sort of. Thanks to his escapade into Ozpin's office and the files contained within, Six knew of the machine that was keeping Amber alive beneath the academy. The Aura life support that the Fall Maiden was hooked up to below the academy had another use: the transfer of one's entire Aura to another. While the file didn't explicitly say what this was going to be used for, Six had an idea.

Not only was she being kept on life support—most likely after Cinder took part of the Maiden's powers—but taking her powers meant taking the girl's Aura. And since Aura was essentially the soul, Six imagined that the girl wasn't in good shape.

He assumed that they didn't want to lose the remaining power upon the girl's death. Why lose that power when you can simply transfer it to someone else?

The natural Semblances of giving Aura to others already existed in the world in a select few. Just a fraction, not enough to permanently bind the two souls, but enough to heal. With the technology hidden below Beacon, Six could and had replicated those Semblances on a smaller scale. It was part of the reason he built the workshop was for projects like this.

The machine—that he dubbed the "Longevity Inheritor and Fair Exchange" system or the L.I.F.E. system—had been graciously donated to a hospital by an "anonymous sponsor" that also happened to promote the Voidwalkers with branding on it.

Bribing a doctor to try it and providing him with the necessary subject—Richter—was easy. As was the hiring of a local construction worker with his Aura unlocked to serve as the transferee.

First, the surgery would take place, then the paid volunteer would supply Aura to the machine and the machine would give it to Richter in a way that his body wouldn't reject the foreign Aura. Somewhat like converting blood type A to AB for a blood transfusion.

This served to both speed up the healing process and to unlock Richter's Aura; which further sped up the healing process after the surgery to his leg. It was the entire reason Richter was out in a day seemingly fine after intensive surgery.

All in all, good work if the Courier said so himself.

It also served to provide a new technology that would better the world. Injuries that would normally take weeks could be solved in days and mass unlocking of Aura could be done. If Six was being honest, he wasn't sure why everyone on Remnant didn't unlock their Aura. Not that Aura meant anything unless you cultivated it into something useful.

And he didn't have to hand out stimpaks to the world quite yet. Another win.

"While it's… Kind of you to do this for me and Carmine…" Richter said, trailing off shortly after he began speaking. He paused, scratched his chin, and then sighed.

The Courier was waiting for the "but" in the man's statement.

"It's also a bit worrisome. I know the kind of people you associate yourself with. I know where your Lien comes from." The older gentleman clenched his fist and unclenched it a few times.

The air in the room had gotten uncomfortable quickly without Carmine. Despite himself, Six could feel his jaw tightening with apprehension.

"Are you sure we're safe? That no one will come for us?"

A fair question. As far as Six knew, there was no one actively gunning for him quite yet.

"I-" Six started but then stopped as his Pip-Boy rang. Good timing, one awkward situation avoided.

"Hello, this is House speaking," the Beacon instructor replied as he stepped away from Richter.

The other end was more hectic, it sounded like people were moving furniture around. And the sounds of heavy machinery and shouting could be heard in the background.

"S-House, we've got an issue."

It was Adam Taurus and his tone was worrying. It was less stern than usual, less aloof, and more worried. There wasn't a whole lot that could rattle the bull Faunus.

"Are you alone?"

A quick glance over Six's shoulder proved otherwise.

"Richter, excuse me for a minute," House said before stepping down the hall and quickly heading for his room.

Once inside, Six turned and locked the door behind him before replying to Adam. "Okay, what's the issue?"

"First, do you really have the fucking Poacher with you?"

The White Fang Leader's tone was intense, bordering on rage as he practically spat out "Poacher." Was Six supposed to recognize that name?

"Who?"

A sigh came from the other end. "The Poacher, Cleaner of the Civil War, the Bloody Spring?"

That last title rang a bell in Six's head. Spring. Why did Spring seem to remind him of something?

"I still don't know who that is," Six responded, earning another disgruntled sigh.

"It's probably an older guy. Ex-soldier. Definitely human. Look, point is, the guy is a monster and some of my men got wind he's staying with you."

There was only one person that description fit that was living under his roof. And if his titles were anything to go by, Faunus didn't like him. And if they knew that Richter "Bloody" Spring was here.

"Shit."

It finally made sense. Why Richter was resistant to returning to the city even though he'd be in medical care. Beyond even the man's paranoia at Six's work was a fear of retribution from the Faunus.

"Yeah, shit," Adam retorted in a snide voice before saying, "get out of there. They're going to be-"

Six heard glass break in another room followed by screaming and barking. Whatever Adam said next wasn't registered as Courier Six rushed out of his room.

The door to Carmine's room was thrown open, plowing into the wall and causing the doorknob to punch a hole into it. Six loomed in the doorway as he took the situation in.

Inside the room were five people; Faunus to be specific. They all had that white and black uniform with that stupid fucking animal head. More importantly, one of them was grabbing Carmine and kicking away Chryse who was biting his foot. Joshua saw red.

The Butcher of House didn't hear if Carmine said anything nor if the White Fang dead men shouted at him.

Instead, he saw the one furthest on his right, standing behind Carmine's bed, reaching for a pistol at his side. And he saw the second one from the left raise his rifle, the other two were slower. It didn't matter.

Activating V.A.T.S. the Sunderer of Mars' Firstborn drew Maria from his side faster than the Faunus could track. In a single blur of motion and sound, a 9mm round pierced the White Fang's hand on the left, causing her to drop the rifle and clutch her bleeding wound. Six turned and put down the one on the far right reaching for his sidearm with a hole in his head. Only to top it off by filling the one in front with four more rounds to the chest, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Two down, one injured, two uninjured; three dead men standing.

The middle Faunus falling to the ground was the one who had been grabbing Carmine. And with the sudden lack of tension on her arm, the girl fell onto her rear wide-eyed and scared.

The last two uninjured White Fang members finally sprang into action. One went for a gun at his side while the other leapt forward with a sword in hand. The injured Faunus reached down to pick up his weapon as the other two attacked.

No time was given to the intruders as he placed another round into the Faunus reaching for the firearm at his side. One bullet between the eyes and he was down.

This didn't stop the lunging sword-wielder who brought his arm up and then down in a vertical fashion towards the Courier. It was far too slow, sloppy, and telegraphed to be a danger to Six.

Bringing one hand up, Joshua brought a palm to his assailant's wrist and pushed it to the side while moving away from the blade. The attacking motion being turned against him made the intruder swing wide to his left and stumble forward.

Seizing the opportunity, Six brought one leg up and kicked as hard as he could against the side of the Faunus' leg. There was a snapping noise as the man's shin bent at an uncomfortable angle and the man let out a shout of pain as the White Fang soldier fell down to his knees.

Not wasting any time, the Courier grabbed the broken-leg Faunus' collar and tossed him at his comrade who was just starting to raise her rifle. The two crashed to the ground together, one letting out more moans of pain than the other.

The two only had a few moments of respite as Six bent down and picked up one of the guns the now dead Faunus dropped.

Before either could get untangled from each other, the Courier was on them, placing another handful of rounds into the chest of the shattered-shin Faunus on top and penetrating into the other Faunus below. The two let out a few sputtering gasps before lying motionless.

Five nuisances dead.

It was then that Joshua noticed he was breathing in hard. That his adrenaline had spiked and that he was ready to commit more acts of violence at a moment's notice. That the red he saw reminded him of his mask.

Taking a steadying breath in, Six turned to Carmine who was currently against the wall and curled into a ball. It hurt to see her like this. In fear and shock. And he hoped it wouldn't make her think differently of him.

But more than that hurt feeling was a building rage directed towards the White Fang. He had the decency to stay out of their business unless he absolutely had to. Hell, he helped them on some occasions for his job. But if they wanted to spit in his face, then he'd cut off theirs.

Joshua scooped up Carmine, Chryse being eerily silent at his feet as the three headed into the living room.

There was another interesting sight waiting for him as Six entered the living room.

Richter stood over two White Fang bodies at his feet; a knife in hand and a large cut across his abdomen. His breathing was coming in short and shallow and his forearms were covered in a mixture of blood from both him and his assailants. The brown coat he usually wore stained a deep crimson.

"Why are they here?" The older man asked as Six moved and placed Carmine on the couch in the living room.

"At first," Six began as he stood up and turned. "I thought they were here for me." The Courier raised a single finger before continuing, "but then I realized they were here for the 'Bloody Spring.' Sound familiar?"

Carmine's father opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

"No, ya know what? I don't give a shit. I don't care why they're after you but I need to go." The Courier's words had an edge to them that he couldn't help but cut with. He already had all of his gear on him so he just needed to grab his new weapons and resolve the bullshit that had just occurred.

As Six stepped down the hall and into his room, he could hear Richter call for him. "Where are you going?"

By the time Joshua grabbed his gauntlets and moved back into the living room, Richter had taken a seat next to his daughter. With one hand on her back, he comforted her quietly.

"I'm going to deal with this. Stay here and look after her, I'll be making sure they can't try anything like this again."

The older man opened his mouth to respond but was once again cut off.

"Don't. Don't say a fuckin' word. I don't have the patience for your bullshit. When the law gets here, tell them I chased the White Fang out of the building and went after them." Not his best lie he told but anger was bad at making good lies.

Six threw open the front door and turned. "We'll discuss this "Bloody Spring" shit when I get back."

His words brought a frown to the older man's face. The wrinkles on Richter's forehead were more evident than ever as the two stared at each other. Eventually the father turned his view away.

Nothing else was said as The Butcher of House left the apartment. Set on making sure everyone involved in ruining their day would have an equally bad day.

Author:

I'm not usually much of an "answer comments" kind of person but after the long delay, I felt like you all deserved a bit of a reward.

Rio Skyron: "Also I've noticed in that last section? Paragraph? Scene? I'll go with Scene, in that last scene you constantly shifted between using Ozma and Ozpin? Was that intentional, or were you just pulling a me and being spacey."

Author: This is a bit of both. Ozpin/Ozma considers Ozpin somewhat of an alias at this point (much like the Courier) and will constantly shift between names as the Courier does when thinking of himself. So, when the story is in Ozpin's/Ozma's perspective, he will refer to himself as either or.

Luzkouw: "this is all hyping me for the inevitable fall of House/Joshua/Mimic and the reveal of the Courier. to me they're 3 different personas."

Author: While they're definitely personas of the Courier, all the best lies hold a hint of truth in them.

Guest: "Congratulations on getting your degree!"

Author: Thank you!

That's it for answering comments! For anyone I didn't get to, I appreciate your support and kind words. It's honestly the comments that keep me going on this story a lot of the time.

The last thing I wanted to bring up was that I'll be going back through and making some slight changes to older chapters. I'll be updating their titles to show which arc they are in and make some slight edits. Nothing that changes the story so you don't have to go back and read them.

Thank you for reading and I hope you're excited for the next chapter!

Here's an updated version of both Six's gear now and his "titles."

Alias(es)/title(s):

Courier Six, Six, The Courier, The End, Ruler of Vegas, Butcher of House, Bane of the Legion, Sunderer of Mars' Firstborn, Brotherhood Heretic, Boomer Tyrant, Executioner of the Powder Gangers, Mimic, The Human Grimm, King Butcher, Bringer of the Apocalypse, Mister Untouchable, Bear Hunter, Wild Card, Wild Card King, Joshua, Josh, Ulysses House.

Gear:

Equipment:

Burned Man's Armor

Elite Riot Gear (Modified: Mimic Edition)

Modified Stealth Suit Mk. II

Civilian Clothing

Beacon Uniform

Mysterious Magnum

Rebreather

Maria

Survivalist Rifle

Modified Anti-Material Rifle.

YCS/186 Gauss Rifle variant.

C4 – Plastic explosives (3)

Detonator.

Frag Grenades (3)

Frag Mines (0)

Combat Knife.

Plasma Grenades (10)

WulfsBann Power Fist (x2)