Author's Note:
I do not own Library of Ruina or RWBY. These series belong to Project Moon and RoosterTeeth respectively.
Summer break's been getting to me, I feel lazier and lazier each day. Plus, my sleep schedule's been getting messed up because I play too many games. I'm not really good at making these Author's Notes, so I'll keep it short. Hello, welcome back to Chapter 14! As promised, here's the next chapter. For this chapter, however, I'm trying something different. It took a while for me to accept what I was doing and roll with it, but in the end, I was glad to make this. If you have some complaints about it, let me know so I can adjust, but either way, have fun!
Reviews:
The Dark Hour - Oh! Now that you mentioned it, I see it. Nemonitor... heh. But yeah, it'd be pretty cool if PT was in the story, although I don't know how I would implement that. Welp, it's up to future me to figure that out if the time comes to it.
Argorok - Thank you. Angela and Penny's conversation was probably the best thing I wrote in that chapter. As for Roman, you'll know in this chapter.
HarmonyDST05 - It would be cool and funny if Angela accepted Penny as a younger sister. They weren't made by the same person, but birds of a feather flock together. Oh yeah, Wheels Industry is super satisfying to see hit; and yeah, Roland really wasn't going to kill Torchwick. After all, even though he asked White Fang, Glynda did say to disarm, not dismember, so he included Torchwick in that as well. If it wasn't for Penny taking down the bullhead, then Roman probably wouldn't have gotten away.
holygamer123 - Dear god... I forgot about the RWBY Chibi shorts. I don't even think I'm too comedic to make something like that, but I'll try.
Your Midnight Scribe - Yeah, you're right. The Smoke War was the most recent war in the City, but that happened recently. The war that led to the amendment and the Great War in Remnant were wars that were somewhat in the distant past. Thank you for pointing that out, but I'm probably not going to change much.
Loli4Lyfe - It'd be pretty funny to see meme builds as experiments that some of the librarian assistants did and somehow became clutch cards. Regarding Roland's E.G.O., I do believe that he would only manifest his whenever more painful and stronger emotions come his way. Unlike Gebura's E.G.O. out of a desire to protect her friends, his is more like an emotional power boost.
MrSadLad - I made it so that Roland wasn't going to kill Torchwick, probably only detain him and interrogate him till he broke. Even if he did almost kill him, Roland calmed himself down to not let that happen. After all, some of the kids were watching him and he didn't want to show the City's mercy on a lowly thief.
Touhoupedia - It is pretty weird that almost no huntsmen are trying to capture Torchwick, but most huntsmen are arrogant. But as I explained it to the other readers, Roland didn't want to kill Torchwick but came close when he divulged Angelica's name. He calmed himself down and focused his attention on Torchwick before the crashing bullhead gave Roman a chance to escape.
MidnightReaderLegacy - Oh thanks! I appreciate your help. Now, as for your questions. Yes, they will meet more abnos. For Wonderlab characters, it's probably Catt. It's been a while since I've read Wonderlab, but they probably won't make an appearance, most likely a cameo, but that's the furthest I'll get. As for following the original RWBY timeline... Maybe? I don't know. I hope to deviate from the main story around V3 while changing some parts before, but I'm still brainstorming ideas.
Emm - Thank you, and you're welcome. Anytime my friend.
FieryGallade - Oh, thank you! As I said many times before, I'm still in the process of learning how to write. Right now though, I feel like I could do better, but at the same time, I want to go at it slowly. But either way, thank you.
–MANY YEARS AGO–
–VALE–
–? POV–
On a particularly sunny morning, the sun painted gentle streaks of gold across the sky, casting a warm glow upon the cozy household. The ray of light shined through my window, gently waking me up from my slumber. I barely open my eyes to see what the time is; my clock reading 7:00 A.M.
Getting up from my bed, I slumped my way into the bathroom to prep for the long day ahead. Once I was done, I made my way down the stairs into the living room with my bag, only to get the scent of cooked eggs radiating from the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen, I was greeted by my mother who noticed that I was there.
"Good morning, sweetie. Are you ready for another day at school?" My mother's voice rang out, filled with affection and joy. She was making breakfast: her classic omelet filled with cheese and ham. I don't know what else she puts in it, but any other omelet isn't the same.
"Mornin', Mom," I replied with a hint of resignation. "Yeah, another day of school awaits, I suppose."
A tender smile graced Mother's lips. "Oh, come on, don't be so hard on yourself. School's a fun and great opportunity to learn and grow," she said as she flipped the omelet onto a plate. "Here, breakfast is served." After she said that, she placed the used cookware into the sink to begin washing.
I walked over to the counter, taking the heated plate into my hands. The fresh scent of the dish was warm, inviting, and comforting to me. Walking to the kitchen table, I realized that I was the only person there for breakfast. Usually, my younger siblings would be there as well, also preparing for the day.
"Hey, Mom?" After a hum of acknowledgment, I continued, "Where are the kids?"
She turned around to face me, her arms still cleaning the dishes. "Early doctor's appointment. I dropped them off after that. That reminds me, can you pick up the kids after school? Your father disappeared to wherever he goes, and I need to go shopping."
Sighing out loud, I knew that Dad wouldn't be able to. He was 'too busy' with his political campaign to worry about his family. Maybe if he cared even a tiny bit about us, he wouldn't have become such a disappointing father figure. Mom has enough worries for us.
"Sure."
After breakfast and a quick goodbye, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. The bright morning sun hit my face directly, almost blinding me, but after a while, I adjusted to the harsh light. As I walked toward my school, I look around my surroundings.
The city of Vale was just the same as ever: vibrant colors, decent welfare, and a lot of diversity. We had the best Huntsmen academy in all of Remnant, and we were the most progressive. Faunus and Humans were treated equally, although it didn't stop some people from disliking the other. The path to school was just a quick ten-minute walk, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was a different atmosphere on the streets.
The people seemed scared and worried. It was all because of Mountain Glenn, the recent expansion of the kingdom that failed a few weeks back. From what I heard, the citizens of Mt. Glenn sealed themselves off in an underground tunnel that was originally intended to be a subway tunnel from the city to Vale. Unfortunately, they perished when a group of subterranean Grimm found them. In response to the incident, the Council of Vale ordered the tunnel to be sealed off to prevent the Grimm from entering Vale through the tunnels. It was presumed that all the citizens in that tunnel were killed.
I wasn't there to watch the television broadcast of the events because I was too busy working on my homework, but my parents were in disarray. A national tragedy had occurred, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people, yet I couldn't care less. Those people were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. All that mattered to me was the safety and happiness of my mom, brother, and sister, and their freedom to do whatever they wanted without anyone telling them otherwise.
At that moment, I realized I had already arrived in front of my school. Sighing, I resigned myself to seven hours of boring lectures and remembered that I had to pick up my siblings later. Walking into the school, I sought out my only friend whom I could at least have a conversation with. As soon as I called out to him, we walked toward our respective classes.
–HOURS LATER–
"Coral! Ash!" I called out to my younger sister and brother. After school, I had offered my friend to tag along with me to pick up my siblings, but he said he had to study. For some reason, he was interested in politics, but I couldn't care less about such trivial matters. All politicians were wealthy scum, but I suppose he might make a good politician if he tried.
"Brother!" the ponytailed white-haired girl ran up and jumped on me. Smiling to myself, I let my sister hug me, and I returned the hug.
In contrast, my short black-haired brother calmly walked up to us with a slight smile on his face. "Yo," he greeted, same as ever.
I could tell they had a good day today based on their demeanor; if they hadn't, they would have been extremely quiet and unresponsive. Even though I already knew, I still asked, "Did you have a good day?"
"Yeah!" Coral responded cheerily. "Ms. Brooke had us make paintings using our fingers!"
Ash reached into his backpack and pulled out two sheets of paper. One of them was a poorly drawn portrait of a person, while the other one was a detailed image of Beacon Academy. Immediately, I could tell who drew each one, but I didn't say anything about it.
"Not bad. We've got some master artists here," I applauded them, causing both of them to blush in embarrassment. "Come on, Mom is waiting at home."
–10 MINUTES LATER–
As my siblings and I walked home, the sun began to set beyond the horizon. White clouds scattered across the orange sky, and some dark clouds in the distance suggested that it might rain soon, but it didn't matter. Everything was just as I liked it to be.
"Brother?" a voice to my right called out to me. I turned to face my sister, who had a worried expression on her face. She had stopped walking, causing me and Ash to stop as well.
Before I responded to her, I took a second to glance at our surroundings. I noticed there was a lack of people, which was a little concerning but not entirely out of the ordinary at this time of day when everyone was heading home. But that didn't matter right now. I turned back to my little sister and responded to her.
"Yes, Coral?"
"Are huntsmen bad people?" Huntsmen? Why was she asking about them?
"Why do you think that?" I inquired, genuinely curious.
"Because some of the other kids said that huntsmen were to blame for Mt. Glenn," she answered, albeit hesitatingly.
Before I could gather my thoughts to respond, Ash spoke up, frustration evident in his voice. "I don't understand. Even the adults keep blaming the huntsmen for the deaths in Mt. Glenn. They told us not to trust huntsmen at all, but huntsmen are supposed to be heroes with cool powers to protect us from the Grimm." As I turned to look at him, I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
I didn't know what to say. While I believed that the huntsmen could have done a better job defending Mt. Glenn, I also remembered hearing that the attack was one of the largest Grimm assaults ever recorded. If there were more huntsmen, maybe they could've... but we'll truly never know. After a moment of silence and walking, I gathered my thoughts.
"Coral... Ash... Huntsmen are... human," I began to explain. Seeing their confused expressions, I continued, "Not in the sense of Humans or Faunus, but in the sense of being fallible. We all make mistakes sometimes, and huntsmen are no different. They're not perfect, but they're doing their best to keep us safe in this crazy world. And it's not like they haven't saved countless lives and fought off Grimm many times before.
As civilians, we should understand that they are risking their lives to protect us, so we should appreciate what they do for our daily lives. As for the Mt. Glenn incident, we have to accept that what's done is done. We, especially as civilians, could never truly understand what happened there firsthand; only the huntsmen who were there can. If they deemed it hopeless to save the citizens of Mt. Glenn, then they let them die to save us. Besides, it was the Council that ordered the huntsmen to seal off the tunnels, so if anything, we shouldn't blame the huntsmen who were following orders."
When I finished expressing my thoughts, they both fell silent, processing what I had said. The gears in their minds seemed to be turning. As for me, I felt that it was a good enough explanation. After that, we continued walking home. It wasn't long before I was asked another question.
"Brother?" Coral asked again. I acknowledged her with a hum, and she continued, "Are you going to be a huntsman?"
"I don't think so," I answered immediately. "I think it's a little too late for me to become one, and we don't know anyone with Aura who could unlock ours." It was highly unethical to unlock someone's Aura without their permission, and even though it would provide protection, people with unlocked Aura tend to attract more Grimm, and most civilians don't know how to use Aura to fight. Moreover, most huntsmen don't unlock other people's Aura because it could be used for nefarious purposes. "Plus, I don't think Father would want me to go to an academy, and I don't really want to become a huntsman either."
"But brother, you're super cool and strong!" Coral protested, much to my chagrin. Even my black-haired brother strongly agreed with her, giving me a hopeful look. Their pleading expressions were too much for me to handle. I really didn't want to risk my life, but... if it was for them, I could try. I didn't even know how to fight, but I would learn if I had to.
"Maybe," I started to speak. "We'll have to see what Mom thinks first, but I doubt she'll let me considering what happened at Mt. Glenn."
"That sounds like her," Ash responded, making Coral whine a little.
Before we could start walking again, two white trucks pulled up. My siblings and I paused to see what would happen. When a group of men emerged from the trucks, it became clear that something was not right. There weren't many of them, but they outnumbered us by four.
Some of them were carrying duffel bags, some had tools or bats, and others didn't have anything visible. The only common thread among them was that they were all dressed in black and wore white masks. It was obvious that these guys were trying to conceal their identities for a criminal purpose.
Immediately, I pulled my brother and sister behind me. I could hear their frightened noises and squeaks. They were going to kidnap us, so I had to protect Coral and Ash before that could happen.
'Why?!' I thought to myself as I watched them begin to surround us. 'Why is this happening?!' I didn't have time to ponder that. Right now, my priority was to safeguard my family. Once they completely encircled us, one of the men stepped forward, walking toward us.
"Hello, kids," the masked man said with a Mistralian accent. "Come with us quietly, or you can come with us tied up and gagged. Your choice."
We stood frozen, watching as they closed in on us. The one who spoke didn't move, but his eyes were fixed on us, silently urging us to accept his initial offer. It almost seemed like he was reluctant to do this.
Once again, I pushed those thoughts aside. Surveying our surroundings, I realized there was no way out. There were too many of them, and they had us surrounded. Their numbers and weapons diminished our chances of winning, and running wasn't an option due to the encirclement. Hesitatingly, there was only one solution... I turned around to face my brother and sister, both of them terrified beyond measure. I opened my mouth to say something reassuring, to promise them that we would make it out, but... deep down, I knew I would be lying if I said so.
"Coral... Ash..." I spoke, my voice filled with determination. "No matter what happens, we'll stick together." Before anything else could occur, a sharp pain struck the back of my head, and darkness enveloped me as I lost consciousness. Hopefully, we would all make it home...
–UNKNOWN TIME–
–UNKNOWN LOCATION–
"Coral!" I screamed. "Ash! Where are you!?"
Nothing.
I looked around everywhere, trying to see if I can spot them.
Nothing. Just darkness surrounds me.
"Dammit, where are you guys…" I softly cried.
Just then, a flash of light from the sky hits the ground, illuminating what's underneath the beam of light. Coral. Ash.
"Coral! Ash!" Instantly, I sprinted toward them, my hand in front of me, grasping out to touch them. As I kept running, the darkness around me changed. It flashed multiple times. Once a street, to a pile of human remains, to a mortuary, to a kid's bedroom, then finally, a lab. I didn't care what was happening, as long as I could get to them, then everything would be fine.
But, before I could reach both of them, I was stopped.
I wasn't frozen or anything, but I could barely move a muscle. I stopped just meters away from her. Getting a look at the two, they were unconscious, but there was something holding them up.
Strings.
Strings that connected to each of their limbs.
Strings that came from the sky.
Realizing this, I struggled to turn my head to look up. It was painful, but when I looked up. The sight of it made me struggle to breathe.
Strings that led to a giant red eye, staring down at me.
Like a puppet, I was strung up. Something out of a horror film, I was forced to watch as my limbs started moving on their own. I was forced to walk away from the light and more into the darkness.
Struggling against the strings, the strings fought back. I began to tire out, my body couldn't keep up with resisting. The giant red eye was growing brighter and brighter. I couldn't fight against such… power.
So, I let myself fade into the darkness.
Instantly, I jerked up.
"What…" I struggled to get the words out. "The fuck…"
I was drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. The room I found myself in was unfamiliar, and the surroundings seemed distorted and twisted. It took me a few moments to realize that I had been dreaming, or rather, experiencing a nightmare. The pain was still present; not enough to hurt me, but enough to acknowledge its presence. My breathing was ragged as I gasped for air. The immediate stench almost made me nauseous. The air reeked of excrement, alcohol, cigarettes, and something else that I couldn't identify.
Composing myself, I looked around the place. There were a bunch of boxes and random items scattered around. There were windows on the walls, but they were too tall for me to look out of. Judging from the darkness outside the window, it was safe to say that it was night. If I had to guess, I would say this place was a warehouse. However, the main question remained: where was I?
'Wait,' I paused, looking around me. 'Where are Coral and Ash?' The people who kidnapped us must have separated us when I was knocked out. Although, it felt like they were here, but that was just a feeling. I couldn't sit quietly and wait while they could be suffering who knows what. Gathering my strength, I struggled to stand up. It felt like I hadn't walked in years. Leaning on one of the boxes for support, I took the opportunity to get a better view. In the distance, I noticed a light. There were figures illuminated by the light, but they could be the kidnappers.
If I wanted to find my siblings, I would have to take a risk. Slowly and cautiously, I made my way closer to them, using the darkness to my advantage while their light blinded them to the surroundings. I maneuvered around boxes, dragging myself forward and panting with each difficult step. When I reached a point where I could hear their voices clearly, I stopped to listen for anything useful. Peeking through a gap in the boxes, I tried to assess the number of people present. There were just under a dozen of them, but there might be more.
Most of them were wearing the same clothes they used to kidnap us, but they had removed their masks. They appeared to be ordinary people, nothing out of the ordinary. I wouldn't have paid any attention to them if I had seen them on the street. Almost all of them had a spider tattooed on some part of their bodies, while the ones I couldn't see probably had theirs in an undisclosed location.
"Those are the father's kids, right?" a man asked.
"Yep," a second responded.
"Why did we nab them again?" the first one asked, causing some sighs and disapproving noises to resonate through the crowd. It seemed like the first guy was new to this.
"Their father is scamming us big time, and the mother died on us," another voice answered. "He promised us access to Vale if we helped him pull some strings to secure a higher position in the city's government."
"It seemed like a fair trade to me," a woman's voice commented. "We were just playing along until we gained enough influence to overthrow the Xiongs, and then we would eliminate the bastard to tie up any loose ends. But he had the nerve to bail on us. He stole a considerable amount of money and went into hiding, only to save his own sorry ass. He didn't even take his wife and kids."
"That fucking bastard left no trace... What do we do with the kids, though?"
"Ehh, I don't care what you do with them," the woman replied. "As long as you don't kill them, we can probably use them."
After that, the crowd began conversing among themselves. Most of the discussions revolved around their plans once they returned to Mistral or what they would eat the next day. They sounded satisfied and content with themselves. As for me, tears streamed down my face. Mom was... dead? And Father was associating with these people?
None of this made any sense. Everything was crazy. Ash and Coral were gone, and Father had the audacity to leave us without a word. I knew he was a terrible father, but I still had some love for him. From what I overheard, he essentially abandoned us because he couldn't fulfill something for these people. Were we just insignificant to him? What compelled him to make a deal with these individuals? There were countless questions swirling in my mind, but no answers in sight.
After silently shedding tears for a while, I wiped them away, determined to find Coral and Ash. They were missing, and it was my responsibility to protect them. I maneuvered myself around the group, utilizing the boxes as cover. Their ongoing conversation provided a convenient distraction, masking any sounds I might make and preventing them from noticing my absence.
As I moved cautiously, a thought crossed my mind. Why had they left me unattended? If I were the one orchestrating a kidnapping, I would ensure constant supervision to prevent any escape attempts. Yet, there was no one watching over me. My pondering was interrupted when I overheard a snippet of conversation.
"Hey, I haven't heard from Aqua and Cloves in a while," one of the men remarked. "They were supposed to check back quite some time ago. It's been over... 30 minutes since."
"They're on watch duty with the kids, huh?" another person replied. "I can't blame them. Sitting around and keeping an eye on them can get boring. I bet they're just fooling around behind the warehouse."
"Those two? That's disturbing to imagine."
So, there were indeed individuals assigned to watch over either me, Coral, or Ash. It was becoming apparent that time was of the essence, and I needed to make my escape before they grew more suspicious. However, before I could focus on my own departure, I had to search for Coral and Ash, ensuring their safety above all else.
–A FEW MINUTES LATER–
Feeling a wave of panic and urgency, I realized that Coral and Ash were not present in the warehouse. Despite my thorough search, they were nowhere to be found. I listened intently for any mention of their whereabouts, but the conversations yielded no information. It became clear that my only option was to leave.
However, just as I was about to make my way toward the exit, a voice erupted from the back of the warehouse, shattering the relative silence.
"HEY!" a man's voice shouted. "AQUA AND CLOVES ARE DEAD, AND A KID'S GONE."
Fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins as chaos ensued. The warehouse was filled with frantic shouts and threats of violence, with the primary focus on finding and eliminating me. Opening the door risked exposing myself to the moonlight and revealing my position. I hesitated, torn between running and hiding.
Running seemed tempting, offering a chance to escape. However, it could also lead me into the clutches of more kidnappers, and my unfamiliar surroundings only added to the uncertainty. On the other hand, hiding granted me temporary protection from immediate detection, but staying in the warehouse increased the risk of being discovered once they thoroughly searched the building. It was undoubtedly a terrible situation, but I leaned towards the option of hiding, considering it the safer choice for surviving longer.
As I made my decision, I couldn't ignore the thoughts of Coral and Ash. They were somewhere else, likely frightened and desperate for their big brother's presence. Each passing moment meant an opportunity missed to comfort and protect them. Staying here would only benefit me, not them. Therefore, I resolved to formulate a plan—a plan that would maximize my chances of staying hidden while also finding a way to escape.
–A FEW MOMENTS LATER–
–THIRD PERSON POV–
"Where the fuck did he go?" A woman asked.
Her partner distantly responded back, "I dunno, long gone if I had to guess."
"Those kids are our lifeline to getting the father back. If we fuck this up, it's our asses. He killed our friends too!"
"You think I don't know that!" the man retorted.
Just then, a noise emanated from behind a stack of boxes. Both kidnappers turned their attention towards the sound, exchanging a silent conversation with their gazes. Slowly, they approached the boxes, one on each side, weapons at the ready. But as they turned the corner, all they saw was each other.
"What the fuck?" she angrily questioned. "You heard that, right?"
"Yeah, you dumbass," he responded. "He was probably right here."
Suddenly, the boxes started shaking, startling the two kidnappers. As the shaking grew more erratic, they swiftly jumped out of the way, narrowly escaping as the entire stack collapsed on top of them. When the dust settled, they found themselves trapped beneath the weight of the heavy boxes filled with random junk.
"Fuck! I couldn't get my Aura up in time," the man yelled, he turned to his partner. "You good?"
She struggled for a moment before giving up. "Yeah," she bitterly replied, taking a deep breath. Then, she yelled, "Hey! Come help us!"
Upon hearing her cry for assistance, their comrades rushed to their aid, asking about their condition and inquiring about what had happened. They worked together to remove the boxes, freeing the trapped kidnappers. As the last of the boxes were cleared, the man's attention was drawn to a rope tied to one of them—a long piece of rope that disappeared into the darkness. He ordered the others to clean up the mess and inspect their remaining merchandise, while he followed the trail that led a considerable distance, all the way to an open door.
Grinning, he swiftly made his way out the door, determined to catch the elusive brat.
–5 MINUTES LATER–
–STREETS OF VALE–
–? POV–
After my escape from the warehouse, I sprinted toward a cluster of buildings, realizing that I had arrived at the docks of Vale. Fortunately, there were no guards patrolling the area, facilitating my getaway. However, as I reached the buildings, the sound of distant shouts filled the air. They must have discovered my escape and were mobilizing to find me. I pushed myself to run even faster, fueled by the urgency to stay one step ahead.
Before I left the docks, I saw several other warehouses nearby. It crossed my mind that Coral and Ash could potentially be held in one of them, but I couldn't do this right now. Sure, maybe they were in a different warehouse, but what could I do alone? I was just a kid. Trying to take on different warehouses filled with grown adults was asking to get captured again. I already had come up with a distraction plan and I was sure it wouldn't work twice in a row. My best chance was to seek assistance from the police or Huntsmen. However, I needed to leave this area to make contact since I had nothing except the clothes on my back.
As I emerged onto the streets, I immediately recognized my surroundings. This was the main street where the Vytal Festival took place during Vale's turn to host. Surely, there would be someone here who could offer help.
…
…
…
Where was everyone? What the hell was happening? Was there a curfew or something? I continued down the street, desperately searching for any signs of life, but it was eerily deserted. I halted my steps, trying to think rationally amidst the growing uncertainty.
'Okay… Since every store is dark inside, I'm sure it's past midnight and they're all closed,' I mused. 'Next, the people. There are always people roaming around; I didn't care if they were homeless or drunk, just the tiniest bit of help would be appreciated. But then again... there was nobody around. It's like a ghost town.'
"That's because of my Semblance, kid," a voice behind me spoke. I whipped around instantly, only for a hand to grip my neck, cutting off my breath. I was forcibly dragged toward one of the alleyways, with the owner of the hand revealed to be the same man I had dropped the boxes on. Then, his mouth opened. "Why'd you do it?"
Do what? Escape? Why wouldn't I? However, my attention was diverted by flashes of light and the sound of people talking. Looking toward the exit of the alleyway, I saw dozens of people, streetlamps, and stores lit up, just as they normally would be. What the fuck? Where did all those people come from? And why are the lights on? But before I could contemplate further, the man yelled again.
"Talk, damn it!" he shouted, tightening his grip on my neck, making it difficult to breathe. Then, he loosened his grip slightly, allowing me to speak while his hand remained on my neck. In a strange way, I found myself curious about why I couldn't see those people before.
"D-Do w-what?" I stammered, struggling to speak. However, the man's face filled with anger.
"Kill my friends!" he exploded, throwing me to the ground.
As I gasped for air, I tried to comprehend what he had just said. 'Me!? I killed someone!?' Remembering the two dead individuals back at the warehouse, he must be delusional to believe that a teenager could have killed two fully grown adults who likely possessed Aura.
"I didn't," I panted, "kill anyone. I'm not lying. Look at me."
I didn't know if he would believe me or not. It all depended on how rational this guy was. Even if I had killed them, there would be some evidence of a struggle on me—bruises, blood, scratches—something to prove that I hadn't killed them.
He gave me a once-over, circling around me. I could sense his growing anger even though he was behind me. When I turned to face him, however, he had his back turned to me. Glancing at the bustling streets filled with people and lights, I knew I had the opportunity to run, but something held me back. I had a feeling that running would only worsen the situation. He would catch me eventually.
"You don't believe me?" I hesitatingly asked.
After a few tense moments of silence, I started to worry. Perhaps he was deliberating on how to inflict pain upon me slowly. Suddenly, he swung back towards me, wearing a slightly cocky grin but with a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "You're lucky, kid. I know you weren't the one to kill them. Sorry if I squeezed too hard. If you couldn't handle that, then you weren't strong enough to take those two out." He emphasized the word 'you' heavily, his sadness evident in his voice, even if his face didn't show it.
My brain paused, struggling to process his words. I had thought this man was going to kill me. "But—" I began, only to be interrupted.
"You're smart," the man said, leaving me puzzled. "We took your siblings, placed you in an unknown location, and you had no information about their whereabouts."
"What?" I said it out loud this time.
"You're resourceful. Unable to find them in the warehouse, you devised a plan to escape. You took the time to create a distraction while being hunted down and managed to successfully flee," he complimented. "You chose to live another day rather than fight. Not many people can handle themselves like that; most would have waited for someone to save them. And I'm sure there's some hidden talent in you."
I sensed there was more to his words, a hidden motive. "Cut the bullshit. What do you want?" I retorted, my tone filled with suspicion.
The man chuckled. "Look, kid, I'll be straight with you. Join me and the Spiders. We could use someone like you."
"Excuse me?" I hissed instantly. "You kidnapped me and my brother and sister, separated us, and now you're inviting me to join your gang? They're probably terrified because I'm not there!" Each word I spoke was laced with worry, but it seemed to only fuel the man's grin.
"Situational deprivation. I can manipulate someone's awareness of their surroundings. It's a shame it only affects one person, but it gets the job done," he casually explained, as if he hadn't just changed the topic.
"What are you getting at?" I narrowed my eyes, growing increasingly wary.
"I mean, we are a small group after all," he commented. "We don't have the means to have two groups monitoring separated brats."
I was initially confused. Did he just reveal his Semblance to me? Why? And what did he mean by their group being small? Were those the only members? I distinctly remembered hearing at least eight voices back at the warehouse, with two others watching over the... kids. But they were watching me? Why plural? It slowly dawned on me.
Oh, dear brothers.
"Yep," he remarked as if he had seen this reaction before. "That's the face of someone who messed up big time."
I had abandoned them. "They... they were there the entire time?" I stammered, my expression filled with shock.
"Yeah, they were asleep. You just couldn't see them," the man mocked. "Remember what you said? 'No matter what happens, we'll be together?' Sounds like a load of bullshit when you left them."
As I crumbled to my knees, tears streaming down my face, the weight of my betrayal crashed upon me. I had broken my promise to Coral and Ash. I had abandoned them when they needed me the most. I left them there to suffer the wrath of dozens of kidnappers. How could I face them now? How could I ask for their forgiveness?
"Forgive me," I whispered through choked sobs, my voice barely audible. "Coral, Ash... I'm so sorry."
The man, who introduced himself as Mister Malachite, extended a hand toward me with a sinister smile etched across his face. He would take care of them while I would work for him. His offer hung in the air, tempting yet treacherous. If I accepted, it would mark the end of my current life, plunging me into a world of darkness and deceit. But despite the risks, one thing remained clear—I had a family to protect.
Gathering the remnants of my shattered resolve, I slowly rose to my feet. My gaze met Mister Malachite's, and with determination burning in my eyes, I extended my trembling hand to meet his.
"I'll do it," I declared, my voice trembling but resolute. "I'll join you. But remember this, Mister Malachite, once this is over, I get my siblings and we're leaving. You and your Spiders can go fuck off for all I care. This deal is a one-time thing."
As I firmly shook his hand, an unspoken understanding passed between us. This was a pact forged in desperation, a choice made to protect those I held dear. And as we sealed our agreement, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just plunged myself into an even deeper abyss of darkness. But for the sake of Coral and Ash, I would navigate the shadows, clinging to the flickering hope of a reunion, no matter the cost.
–MANY YEARS LATER–
–SPIDER'S DEN, MISTRAL–
Years had passed since I had joined the Spiders, and the weight of my loyalty to Coral and Ash grew heavier with each passing day. Under the tutelage of Mister Malachite, I honed my combat skills, unlocking my Aura and mastering its utilization. It granted me a newfound sense of strength and resilience, but it also served as a constant reminder of the burden I carried.
Within the Spider's Den, I was an outcast. Most of the members despised me or simply ignored my existence. I didn't seek their approval or camaraderie; my sole purpose was to protect my siblings. Their absence fueled my determination, even as I faced the constant hostility of my fellow syndicate members. I endured beatings and abuse, knowing that my true strength lay in my unwavering devotion to Coral and Ash.
As the years went by, I discovered my Semblance: string manipulation. With it, I could control others like puppets, albeit limited to two individuals at a time. Mister Malachite had said that he knew that I really killed his friends all those years ago; they were hung up with strings. Even though I never understood how I would do that when I didn't have my Aura unlocked back then, I just ignored it.
My Semblance became a fearsome tool in the Spider's arsenal, deployed to handle dissidents and those who sought to leave the syndicate. I became the enforcer, the one they sent to strike fear into the hearts of those who dared defy them. Yet, with the awakening of my Semblance came haunting nightmares, vivid and disorienting. They revealed fragments of memories that didn't belong to me—strange places, unfamiliar faces, and unnatural occurrences. It felt as if I were living someone else's experiences, but the details slipped away upon awakening. The dreams left a lasting impact on my psyche, gradually shaping me into a more bitter and self-deprecating individual.
I didn't know why, but every time I tried to think more about it, I would forget about it. Nothing came to mind when I woke up, but I knew it was there, changing something about me. I could feel my mind changing with every dream; I grew a bit more bitter and self-deprecating. Maybe it was the environment, the old nature vs. nurture debate all over again, the toxicity emitted from the Spiders must've done something to me. But then again, these dreams feel too real to be fake.
Furthermore, I couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams were somehow connected to Coral and Ash. I could feel that these visions connected me because of loss; loss of control or family. I didn't know. When I asked, Mister Malachite assured me of their safety, but his words were hollow, leaving me with a lingering sense of distrust. He held them captive, using them as leverage to ensure my loyalty to the Spiders. It fueled my resentment, intensifying my desire to break free from this suffocating web of deceit.
I yearned to see Coral and Ash once again, to assure myself of their well-being and devise a plan to rescue them from the clutches of the Spiders. Every fiber of my being rebelled against the control they held over me. I knew that one day, I would confront Mister Malachite and reclaim the freedom that had been stolen from us.
But for now, I bided my time, sharpening my skills, and keeping my true intentions concealed beneath a mask of compliance. The road ahead would be treacherous, filled with uncertainty and sacrifices. But as long as the flicker of hope remained, I would endure, fighting my way back to my siblings and dismantling the web of darkness that had ensnared us all.
–MANY YEARS LATER–
–JUNIOR'S BAR–
I managed to escape from the Spiders. Before even all of that, old man Malachite rose to the top and became the leader. However, he passed away due to a sudden illness that I wouldn't claim responsibility for. At some point, I basically figured out that my siblings weren't in his possession anymore for some reason. The bastard controlled me like a puppet and I got nothing in return. With him dead, it was time for me to search for Coral and Ash on my own.
However, his legacy would still live on in his daughter, who basically inherited the entire syndicate. Everyone including me didn't know that Malachite had a child, but most of them took it with a grain of salt. As for me, I took the opportunity to escape.
The first place was traveling back to Vale. Hopefully, if they weren't dead, then they would return back to our home kingdom. With no photos of them or any information about their condition, I was searching for ghosts at this point. I had no way to describe them other than that they were most likely young adults, and that they had white and black hair separately. Even with their names, there was nothing. We were gone a long time to be remembered.
If I wanted information, there was only one group of people to ask.
The Xiong Family took extreme interest in the story I was weaving but in the end, they laughed it off which bothered me greatly. A person escaping from the Spiders? Inconceivable. No one can escape the spider's web. They brushed off my story and left me angry. Before I could leave frustrated, it was a tale that grabbed the attention of one Hei Xiong, a son of their leader.
Hei listened attentively and decided to investigate the matter personally. Despite the initial resistance from the Spiders, he persisted, and even caught the attention of Lil' Miss Malachite, the daughter of the late Mister Malachite who had assumed leadership of the syndicate. She, too, expressed interest in the fate of the kidnapped children but found no concrete information in her father's notes. The only lead she could provide was that the children had been sold to a random orphanage once they were no longer useful.
Eventually, an agreement was reached between the Spiders and the Xiong Family. Under Lil' Miss Malachite's rule, kidnapping children in Vale would cease, and the two groups would refrain from interfering in each other's activities. It was a fragile truce, but it provided a glimmer of hope that my siblings might have escaped the clutches of the Spiders and found refuge elsewhere.
Once Hei stopped talking, he said his condolences and left me. I sat there for a solid hour, contemplating what next. With this information, my search led me to Mistral, where I scoured the city for any signs or traces of Coral and Ash. The years passed, and my determination remained unwavering. I pursued every lead, questioned countless individuals, and visited numerous orphanages, hoping for a breakthrough.
That happened 15 years ago.
Now here I lie, in a well-known club, infamous for being the headquarters of the Xiong Family. Heh, apparently, Hei used my problem as a way to please his father and let him take over the syndicate; the peace deal between them and the Spiders was a big contribution. Even though the Xiong Family was already a power syndicate, under Hei's rule, the family expanded bigger than ever by offering individuals a chance to get themselves up in life by offering them jobs in his family and basically ruled the entirety of Vale. However, that came crashing down when he "tragically" died in an explosion.
Now, it is owned by his son, Junior Xiong, who wasn't as much into the crime scene like his father once was. Now, the Xiong Family acts as a barrier, stopping other crime groups from entering Vale and as information brokers. Not a lot of crime happening throughout the streets with the exception of a particular Dust thief.
Over the years, I maintained a regular connection with Jimmy, a friend from Vale. We would meet up periodically, ostensibly to catch up and repair equipment, but in reality, it was a way for me to resupply and gather information. The exorbitant prices in Mistral made it more convenient to rely on Jimmy's services.
Our personalities had undergone changes since we last met. I had become bitter and harbored darkness within me, while Jimmy had grown increasingly paranoid and exhibited signs of instability during our discussions. Yet, he would eventually regain his composure, perhaps to maintain a facade. During these encounters, I also had the opportunity to meet his family—his wife, Carmel, and his daughter, Trivia.
At first glance, their family appeared content and happy, but there were underlying signs that things were not as they seemed. Trivia, a heterochromatic girl who had been mute since birth, would often stare off into the distance and nod as if engaged in conversation with an unseen presence. When I managed to catch her attention, she would smile, but something about that smile felt insincere as if masking hidden pain.
It became evident to me that Trivia was not being treated well within her own family. The interactions between her and her father were strained, and she would tense up whenever Jimmy or Carmel entered the room. It pained me to see such a young child bearing the weight of mistreatment. Therefore, whenever I visited, I made it a point to show her kindness. With her father's permission, I would take her out for ice cream and buy her toys, providing her with a semblance of the familial love she deserved.
Though it may have seemed unusual for a stranger to spend time with the daughter of the city's manager, Trivia remained a hidden figure due to Jimmy's paranoia. He kept her confined within their home, allowing no one else to meet her. I was confident that nobody knew of her existence. However, during my absence of a decade, while I pursued a lead that ultimately turned out to be fruitless, tragedy struck.
The same explosion that claimed the lives of Hei also took away Trivia's life and her parents. I couldn't help but feel regret for not doing more for her. As the news of the Vanille Manor's devastation spread, people became aware of Trivia's existence, and the world learned of the young girl who had suffered in silence. She was a good-hearted child who had been dealt an unjust hand in life.
In recent events, I had heard of the club being trashed by a single individual. The damage was only done to the inside of the building. The floors and walls were shattered, and even dozens of Junior's men were harmed while engaging the attacker. Junior himself, along with his best employees, were said to be a part of the fight but were defeated. I tried to find out who caused the event but could not find out who. Due to the extent of the damage, the club had to close to repair. If you hadn't known anything about the attack, you wouldn't believe that the club was attacked at all.
Pushing past those thoughts, I pulled out my scroll to check the time. It was getting late at night and should be going home; even the club barely had no customers, just only me left. I stayed because the alcohol was nice, but the club was going to close in a few minutes. Putting on my coat, I prepared to leave, not forgetting to pay the bartender, who was Junior for some reason. Could he not hire a bartender?
"150 Lien," he told me right as I placed a bunch of Lien cards on the bar's table.
Junior, who had finished wiping a glass, picked up the money without counting. He looked like an average bartender: black vest over a white dress shirt, a red tie, black gloves, and black dress pants. He has short black hair, a matching beard and mustache, and gray eyes. Just like his father.
Junior knew me as a loyal customer, recognizing our shared history with his father and the debt he owed me. No words were exchanged beyond the necessary transaction. It was a simple farewell, indicating the end of my visit to the club. I rose from my seat, ready to depart into the cool night air when the club's doors unexpectedly slid open, granting entry to a man well-known in Remnant's underworld—Roman Torchwick.
Roman, like myself, had managed to escape the clutches of the Spiders. While he remained unaware of my existence, I had gathered substantial information about him from interrogating newer Spider members after my escape. They spoke of Roman Torchwick's exceptional skills as a thief, and I had initially attempted to track him down in Mistral, only to discover that he had been sent to Vale before I even had a chance to find him.
As Torchwick swaggered into the club, seemingly owning the place, I could sense Junior's anger building with each passing second. According to the news, Torchwick has been stealing Dust, not Lien. Intrigued by his activities, I had been observing him for weeks, witnessing his consistent theft of Dust from various locations throughout the kingdom. The motive behind his actions remained a mystery to almost everyone.
From a financial standpoint, stealing Dust wasn't particularly lucrative, considering its abundance and relatively low cost. The Schnee Dust Company dominated the Dust market, and Torchwick had been amassing a substantial amount of stolen Dust over the course of months, showing no signs of slowing down. The question that plagued my mind was not where he stored the Dust, but rather how he intended to utilize it.
It was clear to me that there must be someone else pulling the strings, using Torchwick as a pawn in a grander scheme. His disassociation from the Spiders indicated that they were not the ones motivating his Dust heists. Was it purely for monetary gain, or did he have a greater purpose in mind? The answers eluded me, but I was determined to satisfy my curiosity for the truth behind Torchwick's actions and the enigma surrounding the stolen Dust.
"Junior! How's it hanging? Say I got another deal for you," Roman offered, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
Junior's anger simmered beneath the surface as he approached Roman, his voice laced with frustration. "You piece of crap, Torchwick!" he yelled, causing the club's staff and patrons to turn their attention to the unfolding scene.
Roman quickly raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Now now, I know you want an autograph, but please, I'm here on official business. Here, let me sho–" Before he could finish his sentence or produce whatever he intended to show, Junior grabbed him by the collar, his grip tight and furious.
"You said that last time! And those boys that you took that night didn't come back. Where the hell did they go!" Junior's voice resonated with a mix of anger and desperation.
The orange-haired thief paused and looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "Let me see…"
The orange-haired thief paused, meeting Junior's gaze with a thoughtful expression. The tension in the club grew, with Junior's staff drawing their weapons, ready to intervene if needed. The growing crowd of onlookers whispered among themselves, their curiosity piqued by the presence of Roman Torchwick.
More and more people were starting to gather and I personally got comfortable in my seat because I wanted to see where this would lead into. The only thing missing was a drink and some popcorn.
"Sorry, probably in jail for all I care," Roman finally replied, his nonchalant tone eliciting a surge of fury from Junior. The crowd held their breath, awaiting Junior's reaction and the potential escalation of the situation.
The taller and bearded man growled and turned his head around. "Melanie! Miltia! Get this asshole out of here!" Junior yelled with a pissed-off tone. Even though people were mumbling to themselves about the commotion, I could hear the footsteps coming from the crowd. Two beautiful girls pushed their way through the crowd of black and red suits.
The bodyguards of Junior, the Malachite Twins: are extremely capable, have solid team coordination, and may have at least killed a few people. True to their statuses as twins, both of them look and dress similarly to each other. If one were to describe them in one word: it'd be that they were dolls. Both had black hair, pale green eyes, and pale skin; the only difference between them was their color schemes. However, the only thing that I recognized was that they look nothing like their mother.
Melanie, the older twin with longer hair, wore mainly white and cyan colors. Her ensemble is comprised of an off-white strapless dress that turns cyan at the skirt with white thigh-high boots adorned with red lace-up details. One can see that her boots also had blades attached to the back of the heel, indicating that she mainly fights using her legs. She also wears white forearm-length gloves adorned with cyan lace and a silver vambrace on her left forearm, a white feather scarf with two short red feathers surrounding a long cyan feather on the left side, and also sports a silver pauldron on her left shoulder. A very distinguishable accessory of hers was a white flower-shaped hairpin above her left ear.
The other twin, Miltia, had a short bob-style haircut with a much straighter fringe than her sister. Much of her outfit was similar to Melanie, but her colors consisted of red and black. Instead of the gradient that her sister had for her dress, Miltia's dress had a newspaper-like design that had some headings that I could not identify without any closer inspection. Her head was adorned with a large long wing-like red feather and two short white feathers above her left ear and a short black fur shrug held by four beaded chains with a white gemstone in the center. A very distinguishable item that came to mind was the giant pair of red and black claws on both hands. With spikes on each knuckle, it was safe to assume that, unlike her sister, Miltia focused on hand-to-hand combat.
When they came out from the crowd, visible disgust filled their faces. It seems like both Malachite twins despised Torchwick for some reason. Even the red twin had pulled out her weapons while approaching Junior and the fancy thief.
"Oh great, it's Brat #1 and #2," Roman stressed with an annoyed expression.
When his words left his mouth, both twins stopped a good distance away and looked at each other.
"Mel," the red twin said.
In response, the white twin replied, "Mil."
Both of them continued to stare at each other, apparently having a silent conversation only using their eyes and nods. The silent conversation between the two sisters seemed like a well-practiced routine, causing a momentary pause in the tension-filled atmosphere. On the other hand, Torchwick and Junior looked a bit annoyed at this, making this seem like a common thing between the two twins. After a short amount of time, both twins looked back to Roman and Junior.
"First dibs on killing him," Melanie calmly stated.
"I get to choose where to hang his body," Miltia blankly said.
Roman's cocky demeanor wavered in the face of their words, his expression showing signs of fatigue. The Malachite Twins' reputation and skills seemed to have left an impression on him. It seemed like they know each other and he didn't want to get into a fight with them? I'll never know.
"You brats still act the same as ever," Roman sneered, before turning to Junior. "Just drop me already. I ain't even here for a fight. Just one question, then you don't have to see me ever again."
Junior held Torchwick firmly, trying to discern the truth in his words. Eventually, he released his grip, allowing Roman to pick himself up from the floor. All eyes in the club, including mine, remained fixed on the unfolding scene.
"Talk," Junior commanded.
Sighing, I hoped to see some action. I would need to leave Vale in a few weeks to go search for them again after resupplying and planning. Taking a scroll from his pocket, Roman presented an image to Junior. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned closer to catch a glimpse of the image. As I focused, memories flooded my mind, recognizing the familiar face captured in the image. It was a person I had known, and a surge of emotions and thoughts washed over me, leaving me eager to learn more.
–THIRD PERSON POV–
"I'm looking for some information on these folks," Roman said, pushing the image closer to Junior's face. The more he got closer, the more the bearded man was getting annoyed.
Swatting the scroll away from him, Junior sighed, "Never seen them in my life. Now get out of here." He gestured to the Malachite twins, then noticed his last remaining customer, who was still here watching.
"C'mon Junior," Roman appealed. "You sure you haven't seen these guys? Maybe you haven't tried hard enough." As he kept talking, Melanie grabbed Torchwick's right arm and Miltia grabbed his left, dragging him toward the doors. He let himself get dragged as he continued to talk. "Anyone else? If you know anything about these people, you'll be handsomely rewarded!"
Once he was thrown out the door, the red twin gave him a huff in annoyance while her sister gave him a disgusted glare. Everyone else inside started to murmur about what just happened. Something along the lines of "Is this guy really The Roman Torchwick?" and "What the hell did I just see?" After a while, the crowd dispersed and everything seemed to go back to normal.
Junior, on the other hand, just sighed again and walked back to his bar. "I'm gonna have to put up a blacklist," he muttered to himself. His last customer should be there, so he should tell them that they're closing. "Hey, J–... he's gone already."
–A FEW MINUTES LATER–
Bummed by the fact that most of the bars, barring Junior's, didn't even let him in, the bowler-hatted thief walked through the streets. It had been at least a few days since dear old Cinder told him to find out about the group of individuals. Pulling out his scroll, Torchwick looked over the photos once again.
A man wearing a standard black suit and tie.
Another man in a purple uniform reminiscent of a university teacher.
A child dressed like the purple man, but colored yellow instead.
A woman dressed in all red; scars all over her body and the way that she looked made her feel like a strong person.
And the last person looked like someone out of a wealthy family; wearing an all-brown dress, and looked pretty cute, to be honest.
The individuals in the photographs had one common link—they were all captured at Beacon Academy. Plus, they were rocking that colorful business attire they all had. Roman Torchwick speculated that they were affiliated with each other, suggesting they were either teachers or huntsmen hailing from another kingdom. The latter seemed more probable to the cunning thief.
When Roman received the assignment, he asked Neo to initiate the investigation on his behalf due to their ongoing Dust robberies. True to her nature, she had assumed the identity of a Beacon student to research the group from a closer angle. Such a tactic suited Neo's skill set perfectly.
Lost in his thoughts, Roman couldn't help but question the significance of these individuals. They had emerged seemingly out of nowhere, capturing Cinder's attention. Why did Cinder need to identify them? Were they future allies? Were they formidable opponents? Could they potentially jeopardize her plans? The lack of answers frustrated him, and the feeling of being kept in the dark unsettled him further.
His contemplation was abruptly interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps trailing behind him. Sensing their presence, Roman's expression darkened, and he spotted an alleyway up ahead. Pretending ignorance, he steered himself into the secluded passage, determined to confront whoever dared to shadow him. He positioned himself against the wall, silently waiting for his "fan" to reveal themselves.
A tuft of hair peeked around the corner, followed by a head. Reacting swiftly, Torchwick used the hook of his cane to pull the person into the alleyway, causing them to stumble and fall. As the mysterious figure looked up, they felt something poking at their neck, and a voice broke the silence.
"Well, now," Roman began, studying the person before him. The man stood at a similar height, with white puffy hair styled in a short pompadour and weary yellow eyes. He wore a brown sweater, a tan overcoat, blue jeans, and brown shoes—a seemingly ordinary individual in the eyes of the thief.
"I understand that I have a lot of fans, but stalking is a bit excessive, don't you think? Now, talk," Roman demanded.
The man replied in a monotone voice, "Roman Torchwick, you may not know me, but I'm well aware of you. I'll spare you the lengthy monologue. I know one of those people."
A brief pause filled the air before Roman burst into laughter, echoing through the alleyway. The sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, encapsulating the space.
"That's one way to introduce yourself," Torchwick chuckled, extending a hand to help the man up. "Not my style, but I suppose it's a style."
The person grasped Roman's hand and was pulled to their feet. "Thank you. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am J—" Before he could complete his introduction, Torchwick raised a hand, signaling him to stop.
"Hold on a moment," Roman interjected. "First, tell me how you know them."
The white-haired man stared blankly at the thief before complying. "Show me the image again." Torchwick handed him the scroll, and the man pointed to the one dressed in black. "This one."
"And how do you know him?" Roman inquired.
"I just do," the man replied confusingly, prompting an exasperated expression from Torchwick.
"Really? You just do."
"Yes, please understand. I feel like I know who this is, but at the same time, I don't. Maybe it was the alcohol I drank earlier. It's not entirely clear, but... the one in black... is a... librarian?"
"'A librarian?'" Roman repeated, his skepticism growing. It seemed like this person was intoxicated and delusional.
"Yes, wait, no," the man corrected himself. "He's a... fixer? What's a fixer?" He muttered the last part to himself, unsure of his own words. It was as if he was experiencing this for the first time. Before Roman could respond, the man clutched his head, appearing to be in agony. "A friend? No, that isn't right..."
"Are you alright there, pal?" Roman couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. Not enough to call for medical help, but enough to offer a reassuring pat on the back.
"...A murder?"
The orange-haired thief hummed contemplatively at those words. Accusing a Huntsman of murder without substantial evidence seemed highly implausible. "So, let me get this straight. You're telling me about someone you've only heard of but never encountered, and yet you're convinced they're a murderer?" Roman questioned skeptically. "That doesn't tell me who they are, pal."
"Trust me," the man pleaded. "I believe I know this person. I just need some time to remember. Please."
Roman had some time to think about the man's proposition. First impressions weren't that great, but he was the only help the thief had received tonight, so might as well take him along. Plus, his little plea had him.
"What was your name? I believe I cut you off," Torchwick asked.
"Jay," the man said. "My name is just Jay."
–A FEW HOURS LATER–
–ROMAN'S AND NEO'S HIDEOUT–
A few hours later, inside Roman and Neo's hideout, Torchwick led Jay to an ordinary apartment complex—an inconspicuous cover, hidden in plain sight. Surprisingly, the owner of the apartment didn't seem to mind harboring the most notorious thief. Discrimination wasn't a concern.
Roman guided Jay into his own apartment. Despite his reputation as a dirty thief, Jay couldn't help but be impressed by the surprisingly clean and tidy room. While some might argue that a room reflects its owner's personality, it wasn't always accurate. The main living area consisted of a built-in kitchen, a couch, a television, and a sliding glass door leading to a balcony. A coffee table adorned with books and random decorations completed the scene, resembling a typical apartment space.
"For someone with your reputation, I expected you to live in more humble conditions," Jay remarked, observing Roman as he headed to the kitchen. "Why do you continue to steal Dust when you seem to have plenty of Lien?"
"None of your business," Torchwick retorted, emerging from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee, the aroma filling the air. "And it's not just me living here. My 'roommate' takes care of the place. She can't stand untidy living conditions." He took a sip of his coffee, leaving Jay to ponder his response.
"I see…" Jay acknowledged. "Is she here right now?"
Setting his mug down after another sip, Roman replied, "No, she's out gathering more information. She's probably on her way back by now. But let's focus on our business. I need you to remember more."
"I've already told you, I need more time," the white-haired man argued.
"Yes," Roman confirmed. "I thought our walk here would give you that time, but let's change the subject. I'm sure you want something in return for your information. You don't strike me as the type to give it away for free. So, what's the price?"
Without hesitation, Jay responded, "I want you to help me find my siblings. I've heard you have connections almost everywhere. They were kidnapped by your former associates and sold off."
"Sure," Roman scoffed. The thought of searching for children wasn't appealing to him, but a deal was a deal.
The two men stared at each other, their eyes filled with purpose. They had said everything that needed to be said for now. Torchwick wanted the information, and Jay sought to find his missing brother and sister. But these newfound memories intrigued Jay. He planned to indulge in them for a few more weeks before returning to Mistral. The silence would have lingered longer, but a rhythmic knocking broke their gaze, capturing their attention. Roman grunted, breaking the stare-off, and got up to open the door.
However, before he could reach the door, it swung open by itself, revealing a petite girl dressed as a Beacon student. Her long hair, a blend of pink and brown, and heterochromatic eyes that matched her hair caught Jay's attention. There was something familiar about her appearance. In her hand, she held a parasol, presumably her weapon.
"Hey, Neo, did you get some beans?" Torchwick asked. When she nodded, he glowed. "Ah, that's excellent. Now, we have a guest. He has information that could help us with our... mission."
Neo nodded and looked past her partner, fixing her gaze on Jay. Roman anticipated her to casually walk in, give Jay a brief once-over, and then dismiss him, as she typically did with others. However, what he didn't expect was for her to drop her parasol. Neo rushed past him and tightly hugged Jay,
"Umm, excuse me? Miss?" Jay spoke carefully. It seemed like she knows him and cares for him, but he didn't know anything about her. When she wouldn't respond to him he turned to the other person in the room. "What is she doing?"
"I have no idea," Roman wondered, albeit somewhat annoyed. "She's not like this around other people. Just let her get it out of her system, she'll stop soon."
After a while, Neo finally calmed down and released her hold on Jay. She then began communicating through a scroll, typing out her words.
[Hello…]
Jay responded, "Greetings."
[You probably don't recognize me.]
"Yes, I don't recall meeting you, although there is a faint memory regarding your eyes."
[That was the past version of me. Trivia.]
"...Trivia?" Then, it clicked in Jay's mind. "Wait a moment, Trivia? As in Trivia Vanille?"
Roman answered on Neo's behalf, "Yeah, the family that supposedly died a few years back. She's living with me now."
Jay was taken aback. The girl who was believed to have died was standing right in front of him. "Well, that was unexpected. I hope you're doing well right now." Although Jay's tone may have sounded somewhat uninterested, he was genuinely glad that she had survived.
Neo typed on her scroll, [Yeah, I am. When my parents died, I felt free for the first time. And ever since, Roman has taken care of me. Every day's been a fun ride. By the way, thank you for caring for me when I was a kid.]
"Well, Triv– Well, I guess I should say Neo now," Jay smiled and corrected himself, "Well, Neo, I'm glad you found your freedom. And, well, your parents weren't the best."
The two of them shared a nostalgic conversation, reminiscing about the past, until Torchwick interrupted with a cough. "That's nice and all, but can we get straight to the matter at hand?"
Jay nodded, agreeing with Torchwick, and Neo concurred. It was time to focus on the reason they had gathered together.
As Neo displayed the images on her scroll, focusing on the man dressed in black, Jay felt a familiar stirring in his mind. The name Roland resonated with him, confirming that his earlier statement about knowing the man was indeed true. However, the close up image of the man made Jay feel angry for some reason. Neo then conveyed that Roland would be the new librarian at Beacon Academy.
Roman fixed his gaze on Jay, seeking confirmation of the man's identity. Neo proceeded to show them a video of Roland training with some students at Beacon. After watching the display, Roman let out a sigh.
"He's somewhat snarky but seems likable," Roman commented. "A librarian teaching kids how to fight. It's sad, but he's good. Little Red and some others were receiving training from him, and from what I saw, he's faster than most top huntsmen. Probably even more skilled. I'd have to play with him to know."
Jay couldn't help but chuckle at Roman's assessment. "Good at fighting? Of course, what else is a Fixer good for?" Suddenly, Jay's expression changed, and he placed a hand on his head. "Excuse me, some unpleasant memories are resurfacing."
While Neo looked concerned for him, Roman wasn't. "What kind of memories?"
Jay took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to recall where his knowledge of Fixers came from and why he knew about them. He began to feel a pang of pain in his head as he struggled to remember.
"Well, it seems like you haven't recovered all your memories yet," Roman remarked, observing Jay's struggle. "You sure you're not messed up in the head?"
Jay's brows furrowed as he fought against the throbbing in his head, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories. He replied with determination, "No, I'm not messed up in the head. There are pieces missing, but they're starting to come together. Fixers... they're more than just mercenaries. They operate under various Offices, with them serving as their base of operations. That's what I'm trying to remember."
As Jay spoke, he could feel fragments of his past slipping through his grasp, like grains of sand. It frustrated him, but he was determined to unravel the mystery behind his memories and the connection to Roland, the Fixer-turned-librarian at Beacon.
"From how you're describing them, I would've heard about one by now. Why haven't I?" Roman questioned. All he would get would be silence, so he shrugged it off.
As Neo continued to show videos of Roland, capturing his daily activities at Beacon Academy, Jay focused on absorbing as much information as possible about this enigmatic man who had triggered his memories. The videos served as a way for Jay to piece together the puzzle of his past, even though it seemed futile to Roman and Neo.
However, when another image appeared on the screen, depicting two women, Angela and an unnamed white-haired individual, all three of them were intrigued. Neo explained that Angela, the pale-haired woman, was another librarian who would be joining Roland at Beacon. Although she hadn't been present in the earlier photos, Roman suspected that she was connected to their group of acquaintances. Neo mentioned that Angela was often seen in the old library of the school, hinting at her possible involvement.
"The Pale Librarian, huh," Jay mused, unintentionally speaking aloud. His comment caught the attention of Neo and Roman. Jay clarified that he simply knew what to call her, without understanding the reason behind it.
The other woman in the image appeared to be less significant. She had been a pilot at Beacon for years, predating the arrival of Roland and his associates. While she might have been a friend to both Roland and Angela, she wouldn't have any knowledge about them since only a week had passed since their meeting. However, Neo mentioned that Roland occasionally referred to this woman as Angelica instead of Angelina, for reasons unknown.
"Angelica...?" Jay mouthed the name, but soon after, he was overcome by a surge of pain in his head. Fragmented memories flooded his mind—a hodgepodge of random places, random times, and random people. It was overwhelming and confusing. He couldn't make any sense of it.
"It's been a while, Roland."
"How could I forget. She wouldn't shut up about you."
"That's right. Angelica had much to say."
It was like these memories were… distorted? Jay couldn't make sense of it all. Learning about these unfamiliar memories was both fascinating and terrifying. It was frightening to discover to whom these memories belonged, yet he yearned to uncover more. And if he wanted to unravel the truth behind these memories, it all seemed to lead back to one person: Roland.
Author's Note:
If you couldn't guess, this was after Chapter 11 and before Chapter 13. This was going to originally be a shorter chapter, but I decided to expand Jay's backstory into an actual story instead of a summarized version of it. So I kinda experimented with the backstory, trying to fit his story into the timeline of RWBY. There were some gaps in information so tell me if I overlooked something. While I didn't fully read A Roman Holiday, I read the summary of it and I'm pretty sure I got the timeline down.
Moving on, Jae-heon is the first Blue Reverb member to make an appearance. As for why he's the first, it's because I really like Jae-heon's past; he was just a normal dude that had tragedy befell him over and over. Plus, he's the only other member besides Argalia to know Roland the most.
Anyways, thanks for reading! Also, if you see a mistake or something wrong, just tell me and I'll be sure to correct them when I can. Hope you enjoy more from me! Cya!