I know I said it would be a while, but I thought, why not? I remember my original plan last year was to release the first 4 chapters all at the same time. Well, that plan is already kind of out the window, but I figured I could speed through those first 4 within the next few days, so, here we are, back already.
I should probably mention that, despite the goofy name, I don't plan for this story to be a goofy, happy, sunshine-and-rainbows story. It'll definitely be goofy, it'll definitely be happy, but not entirely. Stuff will go wrong, times will get bad, and the characters are gonna have to grow up pretty quick. Eventually, anyway. We've got a while before we leave the "happy" phase of the story. For now, it'll just be goofy adventures.
Oh, and if you're new to my stories, I prefer writing Peter to be as comic accurate as possible. None of this "can barely lift a car, gets punched out by a regular dude" business. No, no, no, I only deal in real Spider-man. The one that can lift buildings. The one that can outrun a racecar. The one that can tank a Hulk punch to the face. Just letting you know now, because some people think that Spider-Man is too boring.
I don't own RWBY, Spider-Man, any version of Ben 10, or Generator Rex.
Well, that's enough. Let's get this going.
.
.
.
"Remind me again why you thought this was a good idea?"
"You know, I don't, um, I…"
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
A man dressed in a suit of red and blue, with black web patterning and a large spider symbol on the chest, spoke sarcastically to an older man who was stuck to a wall by a mass of spider webbing.
"I mean, just explain it to me man, what was the plan here? You open a portal to some kind of hell dimension, and a bunch of demons come out, and then… what?"
"They come through in a glorious march to excise their conquest upon this world. The governments will collapse, the armies will shatter and crumble, the cities will be atomized, and when the dust settles, I alone will stand atop the broken remnants of humanity as the king of all!" The balding man would probably have been making flamboyant gestures with his arms if they weren't webbed to his sides. Deep lines appeared on his face every time he moved his mouth, making his leathery skin look even more disgusting.
"So the plan was to summon demons to destroy the world so you could rule everything. Why wouldn't they just kill you too? Even if they did follow your orders, what would you rule at that point? Didn't the governments collapse? Weren't all the cities atomized? What exactly would you rule?" Normally, the spider-suited man was happy to bag on the stupid plans of the criminals he caught, teasing them relentlessly about their failed plots. But this… even for him, this was so incredibly stupid, even he had to take a moment to process everything. He genuinely had no quips to make, it was just stupid.
Based on the look on the mad scientist's face, this was the very first time he had considered any of this. His expression became thoughtful as he genuinely pondered what he had just been told, like it truly hadn't occurred to him until now. The man in the spider suit just shook his head, a smile appearing under his mask. Stupid plans aside, this was all pretty average for him.
"Well, don't worry Dr. Frankenstein, you'll love the big house. Just think of all the cool stuff you can make out of the stuff lying around in your cell. You can invent the first-ever supercomputer composed of bedsheets and loose screws."
The police had already been called, so there was nothing to do but wait. Turning away from the captured scientist, who wasn't even struggling in his bonds, the man in the peculiar costume turned his attention to the large machine he had dismantled only minutes earlier. It was a massive, ring-shaped device, with countless thick cables attached to it. Dozens of computers and terminals were scattered around the dark, cramped laboratory, and the only light came from a hole in the ceiling that looked like it was formed by an explosion, allowing moonlight to flood the room. They were currently in an abandoned warehouse near the shipping district, so the smell of salt was thick in the air.
"How do these guys even get their hands on this stuff? It'd be hard to find equipment like this even in a government-sponsored lab." Reaching out, the man in the spider-themed hero tore a small, grey panel off the remnants of the ring-shaped gate, revealing a circular, palm-sized device that glowed faintly with blue and pink lights. It looked like the kind of thing that would definitely blow up if you weren't careful with it.
"... It's probably not a good idea to leave that with the cops. I should check it out on my own, and hand it in once I've made sure it's safe. I don't want the precinct getting blown sky high because some new guy was too rough with the confiscated material." A gloved hand reached out and gently, carefully disconnected every wire and cable attaching the circular object to the rest of the device before finally tugging it out. Apparently, the entire device was only about the size of an apple and could fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. There didn't appear to be any buttons or switches on it, so it likely was some kind of energy router, or a generator that fed the rest of the machine.
The sound of sirens outside drew the attention of the costumed man, though the scientist remained unaware, muttering to himself about the possible applications of a supercomputer made of bedsheets.
"Well, it's been fun, but I've got school tomorrow, so I gotta go. Play nice with your cellmates, okay?" One final farewell was sent the mad scientist's way. Surprisingly, he actually nodded his head in farewell as he continued to mutter to himself. He didn't seem to care all that much about being caught. If anything, the middle-aged man probably only saw this as a temporary setback before he could get back to his experiments. He probably would have waved good-bye if he could. There was even a small smile on his face.
"At least he's more polite than the usual guys."
A long, thin strand of white webbing attached itself to the roof a mere moment before a blue and red shape rocketed out of the hole in the ceiling. Clutching the appropriated energy core in one hand, the spider-themed vigilante used his free hand to fire new web strands at passing buildings, swinging through the darkened city for almost 10 minutes before finally arriving at a small, unassuming apartment building. Releasing the web strand he had been swinging on, he dropped onto the outside wall facing the neighboring building, sticking to the wall with no effort. Lowering the nearby window, he dropped inside like it was something he did every day. Only now did the costumed man tug his mask off.
"Oof, that guy's weapons hit pretty hard. How long was he making stuff before I got there? Why can't the mad scientist types ever just use guns? Bullets are way easier to dodge than laser beams." The complaints came as a young-sounding voice absently touched one of the many singed sections of his suit. There were dozens of holes that had been burned into its surface, revealing bare skin underneath. Actually, he had been wearing clothes under the suit, but they were not spared the effects of the "death lasers," as he put it.
"Great. I'll have to fix this up before I go on patrol tomorrow. Can't have the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man looking like… well, me."
The self-deprecating joke came from a teenager, about 15 years of age if one were to guess by appearances. He had a very kind face that was only slightly marred by the faint bags under his eyes. His light brown hair was beginning to get a little long, just barely reaching down far enough to enter his field of vision. His brown eyes looked over the energy device one last time before it was set gently on a nearby dresser. Before looking it over, he had to get out of this costume.
"Peter? Is that you?" A woman's voice penetrated the closed door, causing the boy, Peter, to look up quickly.
"Oh! Uh, hey May! Yeah, it's me! I just got back from Harry's a few minutes ago! I really think we're gonna get a good grade on our science project!" Each sentence was delivered with little pause in between them as the damaged suit was hastily torn off and thrown into the closet. The cracked double doors were barely pulled shut before the door to the bedroom opened, revealing a woman who looked to be about 60, her dark hair almost entirely white. A worried expression was plastered on her face.
"I swear, I never hear you come in. Why don't you ever tell me you're home? It feels like I barely see you anymore, I'd love to at least say hello when you finally do come back. Don't tell me you're sneaking out to see a girl?" The woman's tone was not meant to be admonishing, though it did sound more than a little mischievous. For some reason, Peter's aunt May just loved to tease her nephew about girls.
"What? No, May, I told you, I was at Harry's. We were finishing up our project for Mrs. Trylch's class." This was not the first time this kind of conversation had occurred between these two, yet Peter never seemed to get any less nervous.
"Ah, that's right. What was it, the, um… particle… electron…" The poor old woman looked hopelessly lost as she genuinely tried to show an interest.
"The miniaturized particle accelerator hooked up to the electron density shifter." Thankfully, her ever-kind nephew bailed her out quickly.
"Yes, that." The old woman took on a humorous expression for a moment, one that quickly found itself replaced momentarily by surprise, then exasperation as she got a better look at her nephew.
"Peter, not another outfit. We just got this one."
Looking down, Peter realized that, while he had successfully removed the costume, he was still wearing his damaged underclothes. His plain, blue t-shirt had about 17 different holes of varying sizes scorched into it, revealing most of his stomach and a little bit of his upper chest. It was actually worse on the back. Probably. He hadn't seen it yet, but there was an uncomfortable amount of air hitting his skin. That was to say nothing of the numerous smaller holes burnt into his pants all up and down both legs. He looked even more homeless than usual.
"Oh! I, I'm sorry, May. The electron density shifter kind of ran out of control." The young hero frantically continued when he saw the intense worry in his aunt's eyes. "Don't worry! Nobody got hurt, we just burnt some of Harry's blankets. He's got a thousand extras, so he told me not to worry about it." The excuse came so easily, it was almost scary. Peter was generally pretty bad at lying, but once he chose a story, he was pretty good at running with it.
"... Peter." Aunt May's tone was indecipherable. "You know, in my day, we turned in baking soda volcanoes. Would it really be so bad to do a safe experiment for once?" Despite her concerned words and the hand drawn up to her face in a seemingly exasperated gesture, there was a smile tugging at May's lips. She knew there was no point in telling her nephew not to pursue these complicated science projects she couldn't even begin to understand.
The pair continued to talk for a few more minutes, sharing pleasant conversation as they usually did before May all but commanded Peter to eat dinner.
"It's almost 10 and you have school tomorrow. Eat quickly and go to bed. I love you, Peter." The old woman said her farewells for the night and turned to leave, but stopped herself. "And before I forget, your experiment won't cause any more fires, right? Harry might be able to afford his blankets burning, but we can't."
Following his aunt's gaze, Peter's eyes rested on the still-glowing energy device he had confiscated from the insane scientist only 30 minutes ago.
"Oh, y-yeah, of course! W-we managed to stabilize it before I came home, so it should be perfectly safe now."
"Crap, how did I forget to hide that too?!"
A nervous sweat ran down Peter's face. He had never been more thankful that his aunt always trusted him implicitly when he gave her information regarding science experiments. She only shrugged and slowly hobbled to her bedroom, giving Peter a final loving smile before she left.
The next few seconds passed in tense silence before a relieved sigh could be heard.
"I really don't deserve you, May."
In all honesty, Peter really was starving. Not even bothering to change his clothes, he went straight to the kitchen and devoured the delicious meal May had prepared for him. Almost as if he knew his day had been hard, she made one of his favorites, mashed potatoes with meatloaf and corn. May always managed to make the most basic recipes taste delicious.
Finished with his meal, Peter went straight back to his room and planned his next move.
"I already finished all my homework for Mr. Cortez's class, Harry and I finished Mrs. Trylch's science project last week, and my notes are ready for Mrs. Bader's test. That just leaves…"
A brown pair of eyes found their way to the glowing device resting quietly on the dresser.
"... Ah, I'm too excited to wait. I'll just sleep through first period."
Peter hurriedly pulled some notebooks from his school bag and grabbed the small box of hand-tools he always kept next to his bed. He wanted to learn as much as he could from the fascinating device he had appropriated that evening.
The next two hours were filled with incredible discovery.
"Whoa. So it converts stray atoms into potential energy, then runs them through the connecting cable, where it's probably turned to kinetic energy by the gate frame. He said it was a portal, so he probably also had a quantum accelerator somewhere around the lab. How did the portal work? Did it use the energy to tear a hole through dimensions? Or did it make a bridge with all the energy, allowing a gate to appear between the worlds?"
At times like this, Peter's scientific mind would not be satisfied until it learned absolutely everything it could.
"... Actually, why did he even need the rest? It would have been really small, but if he just made some adjustments, he probably could have made a pretty stable projection with just this. Well, he probably just didn't want to wait for his demon army to come through in single-file."
Deciding he had learned all he could from the surface, Peter took a screwdriver in one hand and began carefully removing the faceplate of the device. Assuming the device was incapable of producing any usable energy without the proper equipment affixed to it, there shouldn't have been any dangers involved with doing so. A few stray sparks might come out, but that wasn't anything new. The singe marks all over the black desk Peter worked at could attest to that.
Of course, that was only assuming the device truly couldn't produce any useful effects by itself in its current state.
The moment Peter pulled the faceplate off, a couple sparks fired out, as he expected. The internal circuitry looked fairly standard. There were plenty of cables, a few microchips, and your standard gold plates to carry charges. The only oddity was the glass orb in the center, about the size of a quarter, glowing with a neon light that fluctuated between electric blue and eye-hurting bright pink. It was the obvious culprit for the colorful glow that had emerged through the cracks of the device when the faceplate was still present.
Peter was about to set to work observing the inner mechanics of the device, when the glass orb suddenly cracked. It was a tiny crack, one so small that Peter probably wouldn't have even noticed it without his boosted senses. Almost instantaneously, a second crack appeared, this one so large it spanned the entire orb. The excited scientist was eager to learn more, but even he understood when safety outweighed desire for knowledge, so he wasted no time snatching the faceplate and pressing it back over the top. This turned out to be a mistake, as he found he could not remove his hand from the plate, as though it were magnetized to his hand.
"Oh crap! No, no, no, come on! Nice science experiment, good science experiment, please don't blow up my apartment!" Peter frantically tried to remove his hand from the device, but found he couldn't. It reminded him of when he had just started to learn how to use his powers and had trouble unsticking from walls.
He could hear the glass orb cracking even further, each new injury to the fragile device seeming painfully louder than the last, until finally, the obvious sound of shattering could be heard. In the same heartbeat, the light peeking through the gaps in the device grew much brighter and neon liquid bled through, leaking onto Peter's hand. It was not painful, or even really tingly. It felt no different than cold water being poured onto your skin.
The device had begun making a whirring sound, one that started out as quiet as an old computer, but was steadily growing louder. It now sounded like an old man was driving his beat up pick-up truck through Peter's bedroom. He had begun to desperately pull the strange machine from his trapped hand, but could not free himself even with his enhanced strength. If anything, it was getting worse. It felt like his hand was being sucked into the cold metal. The sound of straining metal could be heard as Peter's hand indented it further and further.
"Crap, if I hurry, I might be able to make it to the bay!" Peter did not hesitate to go straight to his window. On the off chance the device was heading for an explosion, his best option was to swing right to the harbor and dive underwater. That would minimize the damage caused as much as possible with his limited options.
However, just as he grabbed hold of his window, the whirring noise that had steadily been growing louder suddenly stopped completely, creating an odd sort of silence in the enclosed space. Confused, Peter curiously glanced at his trapped hand, stained with neon liquid.
The device was silent.
"... Is it ov-" Shmmm!
The silent device suddenly began to vibrate as a painfully loud noise tore through the room, like a racecar had just driven by without a muffler. With his enhanced senses making it all the more loud, Peter couldn't help but fall to his knees and clutch at his throbbing ears.
"Come on, you're still not-!"
His shouts of defiance died in his throat as something fired through his hand. A rectangular prism colored in electric blue and neon pink seemed to project holographically through his hand, growing in size until it was about the size of his bedroom door. Peter felt his body being lifted off the ground as he was pulled into a handstand-like position, the device remaining in place as he was pulled into the rectangular door.
On the plus side, his hand finally came unstuck.
On the negative side, there was now nothing to stop him from hurtling through the gate, his shocked yells silencing the moment his head passed through the energy field.
The gate remained for only a few seconds more before disappearing without a sound. The device that caused all of this was nowhere to be found.
?:
"... -ey. … Hey! Kid! You alright!?"
Peter could hear a voice calling out to him, but had difficulty opening his eyes. They were not stuck together, per se, it simply felt like opening them would be immensely painful.
The sound of seagulls and waves crashing was all around. Salt hung thickly in the air, creating a dry sensation on the skin. Warm, coarse material could be felt under his exposed back. It shifted and crumbled at his slightest movement and was hot to the touch, so it must have been sand.
"What… happened? Where…" All Peter could do was think. His mouth would not obey him when he willed it to move.
There was nothing to be gained by remaining silent and immobile. Shoving down this feeling he had that the simple action would cause him immense pain, Peter forced his heavy eyelids to slowly open. As he thought, the basic movement sent bolts of electricity through his skin, like he had just taken an Electro bolt to the face, but he did not stop until his eyes were fully open.
It took a few seconds for everything to become clear. The colors and shapes blended together at first, creating an indecipherable image of contorted, impossible shapes and a myriad swirl of bright colors. Slowly, everything took shape as it was meant to. Peter could see a blue sky, one dotted with pure white clouds here and there. Then, he saw seagulls passing by, an unusually large amount of them. Finally, he took notice of a man staring down at him with a severely worried, yet apprehensive look on his face. The man had olive skin, strikingly purple eyes, and no hair on his head, but he did have…
Horns?
"Where… where is this?" Peter groaned out. Talking caused a similar reaction to opening his eyes, pain coursing through his chest with every syllable. "Who… are you?"
"Oh, thank the gods! I've been yelling for almost ten minutes now! For a second there, I thought you were dead." The bald, horned man looked incredibly relieved. "I sent my son to get a doctor, so don't worry. You'll get help soon."
"Help? What did I…" Peter could hear that his voice sounded cracked, dry, like he hadn't spoken in years. Feeling his senses properly returning to him, he pressed his hands into the sand and forced himself up, ignoring the pain it caused him.
"H-hey, hold on! You shouldn't stand up just yet!" The horned man knelt down and put his hand on Peter's chest, but he was waved off. Only now did Peter realize he was slightly damp. Had it rained while he was unconscious?
Slowly, steadily, Peter climbed to his feet. He almost lost his balance once his hands were off the ground, but he was supported by the helpful stranger.
"I've got you, son. Don't worry, help will get here soon."
"Help… you keep saying that. What happened? Where am I? Who are you?" Peter felt like his brain had been stirred up by an egg beater. He could barely gather any of his thoughts, and every new sight or sound threw his mind into further turmoil.
"Ah, I suppose those are good questions. Well, to answer your last question, my name is Kreide. You'll see my son soon, his name is Kurt. As for what happened, well, you were drowning, son." Kreide made no effort to move, he merely offered a shoulder to Peter so he could stand.
"Drowning?"
"It was my son who noticed you. We came down to do some fishing and he saw somebody floating about ten meters off-shore. We swam in to pull you out, and I sent my son to get the doctor while I did CPR. You swallowed a lot of water while you were in there. Thankfully, you were floating on your back."
"So that's… why I'm wet." Peter dropped his inordinately heavy head down to observe himself once again. The hot sun had mostly dried him off, but his clothes were still somewhat damp. "I see. Thank you, Kreide. I probably would have died without you."
"Don't even mention it, son. This world is already dangerous enough. If we don't look out for our neighbors, we won't have anything left."
Kreide seemed to be genuine. The comforting smile he gave Peter did ease his worries somewhat.
"Still, we don't see many humans here. It's not technically illegal for them to visit, but most would prefer to stay as far away from us as possible. Though, judging by your situation, I doubt you came here by choice. Did your Bullhead go down?"
"Human?... Those horns…" Peter's eyes had been slipping in and out of focus, but he could clearly see at this distance. Growing about six inches above his eyebrows, Kreide had two large, curved horns that grew past the back of his head and curled back around to his ears, ending in sharp points just below the earlobes. They looked like they belonged on a ram, not a human man.
"Oh, I-I'm sorry. I suppose I should have asked before I helped you stand. I understand some of you humans don't like touching us Faunus. I apologize for that." Shock flashed through Kreide's eyes, followed by profuse apologies, like he had committed a grievous error by helping Peter stand.
"N-no, it's fine. Thank you for your help."
"Faunus? He's not human then. I can worry about that later, I've got bigger problems now."
"But still, I need to know where I-"
It was impossible to finish the sentence. An intense wave of nausea overtook Peter's entire being. He instantly felt like he had to vomit. His knees buckled and Kreide had to grab him with his other hand, lowering him gently onto his back.
"Oh no. Can you still hear me, son!? It's okay, it won't be long before help gets here!" Kreide's terribly worried expression returned as he fussed over Peter, who could no longer move without feeling an immediate need to empty the contents of his stomach. His vision was beginning to blur again, and Kreide's voice was growing distant.
"...-ather!...-tor…-elp!"
Peter could barely hear the new voice, but it wasn't long before a second face appeared beside Kreide. It was a young man who looked just like his ram-horned savior, only he possessed a full head of shoulder length, golden hair that glowed in the sunlight. A third person, a woman, appeared between both of them. She had pale blue hair with matching eyes, and mixed in with her hair were grey and blue feathers, growing just as naturally as hair.
"It's alright. We might not be as well equipped as mainland hospitals, but we Menagerie doctors have our own methods." The woman's voice was soothing, gentle, and calm. It was the last thing Peter heard before he passed out again.
?:
"..."
It was dark again. Not like at the beach, where his eyes were simply closed. Peter could tell his eyes were open, but he still couldn't feel anything. Pawing his face with his sandy hands, he found he was not wearing a face covering of any kind.
"... Oh man, where am I now?"
Moving and talking no longer caused bolts of pain to shoot through his body, but a feeling of nausea remained. Moving slowly so as not to empty his stomach all over the floor, Peter tried to observe his surroundings. He was obviously on a bed of some kind, with a curtain closed around it. There were rings hanging from the ceiling that the curtain track ran through, and light was visible through them.
Wracking his brain, Peter remembered blacking out on the beach as a doctor was assisting him. Had he been brought here by her? What about the others?
"... Kreide?" His questioning call was met with silence. Bringing his legs over the side of the bed, Peter reached out and pulled the curtain aside, revealing the room to him. It seemed he was in a space about thirty feet long, and only about as wide as two beds placed end-to-end. Speaking of which, his bed was located on the far side of the building, and there were about eleven others between him and a door on the far wall. It wasn't particularly dark, but it wasn't terribly bright either, the only light coming from a handful of lanterns placed at equal intervals throughout the room.
The doctor was nowhere to be seen, and, as far as Peter could tell, there were a few others in the room with him. They were passed out on beds of their own. It seemed that only Peter's bed had the curtain drawn around it.
"... This is weird. Kreide? Doctor lady? Hello?" Peter kept his voice low to avoid disturbing his sleeping roommates, and still no answer came. Unsteadily rising to his feet, he padded carefully down the room to the door at the far end.
As far as he could tell, this was a hospital. There was a desk right beside the door, probably for checking in patients, and there were a few medicine cabinets behind it. The floors seemed like they were swept regularly, and every surface was immaculately free of dust.
Nobody was here. No Kreide, and no doctor.
"I don't like this. Now would be a really good time for Spider-Man to make an appearance." There was nothing to be done. The suit obviously wasn't with him, and there didn't seem to be any immediate danger just yet. Making up his mind, Peter placed a hand on the creaky, wooden door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.
Light flooded the room, which quickly went back to being dark as Peter stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Outside was a bustling street filled with people. There were rickety stands made of wood planks and cloth tarps selling fruits, fabrics, and anything else you could think of. It was the kind of scene one would expect to be greeted by in a rural village.
There was only one problem.
"More… Faunus?"
Horns. Wings. Scales and tails. Every single person Peter saw had some kind of strange, animal-like trait. An elderly woman working a fruit stand had massive, owl-like eyes. A young man and his friends were standing and talking nearby, all of them covered in green, red, or yellow scales. A little girl walked by just in front of Peter, a long wolf tail poking out from under her dress and dragging along the sand.
"What… is this place?" It was simply impossible to keep the bewilderment out of his tone. Evidently, his question was louder than he had originally thought, because every nearby Faunus glanced in his direction in a seemingly reflexive, curious action. But, for some reason, they all seemed to think he was fascinating and stared with wide eyes. Some looked angry, others scared, but every person present seemed absolutely shocked by his presence.
"... Um, hi?" Peter nervously smiled and raised a hand to wave at the small crowd.
"A human!?"
"What's he doing here?!"
"Is it a Hunter?
"What with his clothes?"
The questions came one after another. The confused human boy had no idea what to make of all this.
"Um, does anybody know where I can find a man named Kreide? Or a doctor with feathers in her hair?"
"Kreide?"
"What does he want with Kreide?"
Waiting patiently, Peter hoped somebody would come forward and tell him something helpful, but the crowd instead chose to converse amongst themselves. After two minutes, it became apparent that nobody would help him.
"I see. Well, thanks anyway. Sorry to bother you."
Stepping away from the hospital, Peter walked to the center of the street and took another look around. There were buildings and road stands all around the road, which only went to two places. On one side, it continued all the way to the beach. The other way, there was a massive mansion that dwarfed every building around him.
"There's nothing waiting for me at the beach, so, mansion it is, I guess."
It did not escape Peter's notice that the eyes of every single person on the street were on him as he walked, nor did he fail to notice parents pulling their children closer. One in particular, actually glared at him as she pulled her daughter behind her, like she was daring him to do something.
"... I really need to find Kreide."
He didn't want to be here. It was bad enough getting looks like that as Spider-Man, but he was just Peter. Just a regular human going about his business. So why… why did everybody seem to hate him?
Picking up his pace, Peter hurried down the road, brushing past every single person on the road. He paid nobody any attention. It took only a few seconds to realize that everybody was the same, they all seemed afraid, angry, indignant that he was there. The best he could hope for was curiosity. It did not take long to arrive at the bottom of a massive staircase that led to the giant. Kreide was still nowhere to be found, but there were two people coming down the staircase that looked like…
"Kreide?"
"Oh, good, you're awake. You must be well if you made it all the way here on your own." The kind man was indeed making his way down the large staircase, the doctor who helped Peter walking beside him, looking unhappy.
"I knew I should have left a note. I can't believe I left my patients alone for this long. Even if you can walk on your own, you shouldn't have come all this way." Her tone was cross, though she did seem happy to know he was alright.
"Please, Lan, be civil with the poor boy, I'm sure he's just confused. If he made it all the way here, then-"
"If he made it all the way here, then my work is done. If you have any further problems, don't hesitate to come to me. I'll never turn away one of our own." Her piece said, the woman patted Peter once on the shoulder, gave him a warm smile, and left, presumably to return to her hospital.
"I'm terribly sorry about her, No-Lan was always a bit curt, even with her patients. She never did well with forcing herself to act kind, even if it is how she truly feels." Kreide offered an apology for his compatriot, noticing that Peter seemed a bit distressed.
"Now then, I'm sure you have questions. I was actually on my way to fetch you. The chieftain of Menagerie wants a word with you. Come, come, the sooner the better. He may be able to help you return home. Don't worry, we're old friends, securing an audience wasn't difficult." The ram-horned saint ushered Peter over to him.
"I… alright. Thank you."
There was no point fighting. No information, no contacts, no nothing in this strange place except unreasonable animosity. Kreide was the only friend he had, so Peter would trust him for the time being.
The unusual pair ascended the staircase together, soon arriving at the top of the staircase, where Kreide knocked on a magnificent set of double doors twice the size of any Peter had ever seen.
Seconds passed in silence, silence broken by creaking wood as the door was pulled open.
"Back so soon, Kreide? You didn't forget something, did you?" A slightly wrinkled, kind face poked around the door. It was a black-haired woman with two pierced cat ears atop her head. Peter couldn't help but stare, something she took notice of.
"Oh, our guest is awake. Dear, I haven't even had time to make tea yet. No matter, come in, come in! I'd never dream of keeping my guests waiting." The cat-eared woman grabbed Peter's arm and dragged him into her home, Kreide following after them at a calm pace.
"Ah, wait! Who are you? Why did you want to see me?"
"Later, dear. Have a seat, have a seat."
Peter was thrust into a comfortable, golden-brown couch in the middle of a large common room. There were two other couches beside it, forming a blocky U-shape. A coffee table rested between all three couches, and a grand fireplace was beyond that, warming the entire room. The hyperactive cat-eared woman left the room, promising she would be back soon.
"You'll have to excuse Ms. Belladonna, she loves new faces. Her husband, Ghira, is far easier to deal with." Kreide had sat himself down beside Peter, politely offering support.
As if on cue, the doors opened again. Unsurprisingly, the overly hospitable woman returned, practically hopping in excitement. Behind here, a massive beast of a man followed. His regal outfit displayed the entirety of his chest, and a thick beard that would put dwarves to shame adorned his face.
"So, you are Menagerie's newest arrival. As the chieftain of Menagerie, I welcome you on behalf of my people." This man, Ghira, as Kreide had called him, bowed his head politely.
"Ah, no, I should thank you sir! I'm very sorry to inconvenience you like this!" Peter was very uncomfortably aware of his terrible state of dress. Why didn't he change his clothes before he worked on that device? "Um, m-my name is Peter Parker… sir!"
The massive man laughed heartily at Peter's nervous introduction.
"Calm, Peter. You're not in any trouble. All are welcome on Menagerie's shores. I'm sure Kreide has already told you, but my name is Ghira, and this is my wife, Kali." Ghira provided his introduction as he sat himself in the couch to Peter's right, his wife sitting beside him and grabbing hold of her husband's thick arm.
"O-oh, thank you. I… I'm really sorry, but where did you say we were? I don't think I've ever heard of Menagerie before."
Ghira did not seem the slightest bit surprised by this.
"I suppose that's understandable. I'm sure most schools only mention us in passing. Menagerie is a haven for the Faunus, gifted to us at the end of the Great War. It is a place open to all who wish to come, free for any who want a fresh start. All of Remnant is welcome here." The calm giant of a man seemed extremely proud to explain his country to the clueless boy.
"Oh, wow, that sounds awesome. But, just one more question. What… what's a Faunus? And… what is Remnant?" For the first time, Ghira's calm expression changed. Even he could not hide his surprise. Not knowing Menagerie was one thing, but not knowing what the planet was called, or what a Faunus was? Not to mention, wasn't he…
"I apologize, Chief Ghira. Please understand, my son and I found him unconscious in the wharf. He may have been in a Bullhead crash. Still, to forget your world and race, it must have been truly terrible." Kreide quickly apologized on Peter's behalf, but one thing stood out to him.
"My own race?" Pure, unfiltered confusion loaded down Peter's tone, utter bafflement written all over his face. Come to think of it, hadn't the doctor said something similar earlier.
"Well, yes. When No-Lan was looking you over, she noticed those patches on your wrists. She was worried there may have been metal shards stuck under your skin, but when she applied pressure, those webs came out. I must say, spider faunus are quite uncommon. Even an old man like me has only seen a handful of them.
Shocked, Peter threw his arms in front of his face. Like Kreide had said, there were strange, discolored patches of skin on his wrists, as if somebody had glued pale white squares over his skin.
"Kreide is correct. I have personally met thousands of Faunus in my time as Menagerie's chief, and I have yet to meet a tenth spider Faunus. They tend to keep to themselves on the far side of the village." Ghira offered his own input, oblivious to Peter's pale white face.
"Terrible conversations-starters. I swear, I have to do all the talking every time I happen across one of them." Kali, on the other hand, seemed disappointed about something utterly irrelevant.
"These… they aren't…"
"Hm? Is something wrong, Peter?" Kreide, kind man that he was, did not fail to notice Peter's immense discomfort. The poor boy looked like he was about to have a panic attack.
"These… were never here. I've never seen these. They weren't there yesterday! Where… where did these come from?!" Peter was talking faster and faster, genuine panic setting in.
What were these? Webs came out? Until now, he had always had to use web-shooters to make up for his disappointing lack of ability to produce them himself. Why… why were these here? What had happened to his body? All of that… wasn't even the worst.
They saw. His webs, they saw. They knew.
"Wait, calm, calm down! There are other people with spider abilities, right? Then you're not the only suspect, there are others, other people who… who…"
There were others with similar abilities. Spider-people. Not just them. Kreide had horns. Kali was a cat. None of this matched up with any of his knowledge, any of his memories. The people didn't exist, there was no such place as Menagerie, no such thing as Faunus.
They didn't exist, they didn't exist, they didn't-
"Peter! Breathe, Peter!"
The lost boy was forced out of his thoughts by a hand gripping his shoulder and shaking him roughly. Kreide, Kali, and Ghira were all gathered around him, looking extremely concerned. Snapped out of his thoughts, he became aware of his rapid breathing, and his face felt cold.
"A… a map. Do you have a map? Any kind, it doesn't matter. Please, can I see a map?" Hearing his desperate tone, Ghira wasted no time opening a compartment in the coffee table and unrolling a long sheet of paper. Peter darted over and obsessively poured over the image before him.
… It wasn't right.
He recognized nothing on the map. The continents were wrong, the oceans were wrong, everything was wrong.
He couldn't take it. Peter dropped to his knees right in front of the others.
"I don't… what is this… May? What's going on? What is this?!"
That hopeless tone. Not a single occupant of the room was unaware that something seriously wrong was going on with their guest. Kali knelt beside the lost boy who seemed on the verge of tears and wrapped her arms around him.
"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. Take all the time you need." That soothing, motherly voice could only do so much. At the very least, it allowed Peter to hold his tears back.
As promised, he was allowed all the time he needed to gather himself. With a mental breakdown averted for now, Peter took his place at the couch, as did the others.
"What… is all of this?" He wondered aloud, unable to find an answer for himself.
"Peter, there is one thing that might help." Kreide spoke up, pulling an object from his coat pocket and placing it on the coffee table. It was a metallic device, about the size of an apple, and it looked like it had been through an explosion. The whole thing was singed, blackened, and bent, and chunks of it were missing. "It was floating beside you in the wharf. I thought it might belong to you, so I grabbed it."
"... The gate. It actually worked. That guy… he pulled it off…" Peter was the only one who understood what the device was.
"Peter, do you know what this… thing… is?" Ghira looked perplexed by the foreign object occupying a space on his table. "I'm sorry to question you at a time like this. If you don't wish to answer-"
"No, it's fine!" Peter responded a bit too quickly, his tone hot. "It's… look, it sounds insane. I can't promise you'll actually believe me, I don't even expect you to."
He had to talk. Somebody had to know. It felt like the weight of the world was crushing him. Even if only a little bit, that weight had to lessen, just a tiny bit.
Key details were left out, such as his alter-ego. As far as the others knew, his uncle was a famous inventor, and Peter had simply wandered into his lab at the wrong time. Everything else was the same. He wasn't from here. None of this was right. Nothing matched up with what he knew, and with everything Peter shared, the less he felt like his chest would explode.
There was an understandable silence when he finished.
"... So when you said those Faunus traits weren't there before…" Kreide breathed deeply, taking in everything he had heard. "So you say you were human in this… other world."
"It's certainly quite the tale. And our geography looks nothing like yours?" As Ghira pointed to the world map he had displayed earlier, Peter shook his head.
"It certainly explains why you've never heard of Menagerie, Remnant, or the Faunus. Even the most sheltered of children wouldn't be this clueless." Kali looked surprisingly contemplative.
"I understand how I got here, but I don't know anything else. I don't know how to get back, I don't know why it changed my body like this, I don't… I don't know anything." Peter admitted to the room just how clueless he was about everything.
"Um… if you don't mind… I already know the answer, but I want to ask anyway." Peter cryptically made his request, receiving a nod from Ghira. "... Have you ever heard of Spider-Man? Or the Avengers?"
Confused, thoughtful looks all around, with a single, general consensus.
"I don't believe I've ever heard those names before. Are they comic characters? I have some friends who know about that sort of thing." Kali's answer was exactly what Peter expected, but it still hurt to hear.
"... Alright then."
Peter took several deep breaths, deciding on his next move. He had no idea how to go home. That probably wouldn't change for a while. The device that sent him here was totally busted. A glance was all it took to realize every single part was destroyed, so he couldn't even salvage anything useful. Building a dimensional transporter was way beyond his experience level. Odds were good that he would be stuck in this dimension for a long time. So then, what was the play?
"... Mr. Ghira, Mrs. Kali," Peter picked his head up, looking Menagerie's leaders in the eyes. "Please tell me everything I need to know about Remnant. I have no idea when I'll be able to go home, or if it's even possible to go home. So, please, tell me everything you know."
It was a heartfelt request, the Belladonna's knew this. The boy's story was absolutely insane. Even a curious mind like Kali's had trouble believing any of it. However, whatever the case, this boy truly believed all of it, and, supposing he were just a Faunus who lost his memory and came up with this crazy story to explain it all, he knew nothing. In either case, the boy was in a hard situation.
So…
"Of course Peter. I never turn away anybody from our borders, and Menagerie is resting peacefully right now, anyway, so my duties have been fairly minor as of late." Ghira gave the warmest smile he could muster. It wasn't a difficult request to fulfill. The major points to hit would be Hunters, the Grimm, the kingdoms, the Great War, and maybe a brief explanation of the Faunus, just in case. His afternoon was clear anyway, and he had a self-imposed duty as the chief of Menagerie to help all his people in times of need, so it was no skin off his back.
"I suppose to start with, you should know-"
BANG!
A crashing noise interrupted the massive man's explanation. The doors leading outside had been shoved open, revealing a disheveled looking man with talons on his feet.
"Chief Ghira! They broke the highlands barricade! Beowolves and Ursa are charging in!"
"WHAT?!" Ghira's thundering shout shook the room. The man looked furious. Beside him, Kali appeared shocked, and Kreide had a worried expression on his face.
"Uh, what are those?" Only Peter was clueless. Ignoring the messenger's shouts of "are you stupid," it was Kali who answered.
"Monsters. Creatures of shadow, filled only with malice. We have barricades to keep them out of this part of the island, but there are occasional breakthroughs, like today." Her eyes were downcast as she explained, her tone quiet.
"Peter, stay here. I'll be back shortly." Ghira stomped to his feet and went straight to the door. "Is the militia already assembled?"
"Of course, sir! They're holding back the Grimm, awaiting your arrival!"
Chieftain and messenger left the room, presumably hedging straight for the battlefield.
"... He's going to fight?" The idea of a chieftain personally fighting did not align with Peter's way of thinking. He assumed Ghira would remain home and relay orders.
"Ghira is quite the warrior, you know. All those muscles aren't for nothing. If he says he'll be back soon, he'll be back soon." Kreide sounded calm despite his worried look. He clearly had total faith in his old friend.
"... And he's going to fight these… Grimm? What exactly are they?"
Kali and Kreide shared a look. It was Kreide who offered the explanation.
"We don't know. It's unclear where they come from or how they're born. All we know is that they do not live. The Grimm simply exist, they have no life. No emotions, no thoughts, no anything, except the most feelings of violence and wrath. They exist only to kill, nothing more. Since the dawn of time, they have tormented this world, with no end in sight." Kreide's description was incredibly pessimistic, but nothing about it seemed untrue.
Peter looked out the nearby window. The streets of Menagerie could be seen through it, filled with Faunus milling about. If the barrier was broken…
He looked down. His pain was gone, though his nausea was still present. It wasn't as bad as before, but his body was far from perfect. Still, he could clench his fists. He could run, he could fight… he could help.
Running into a battle with no disguise, swinging his fists and firing webs everywhere. He would never have dreamed of doing such a thing in New York, but this wasn't New York, was it? What point was there in hiding anything? He had nobody to protect, nobody connected to him, so…
"Mrs. Kali… where is the highlands barricade?"
Both Kreide and Kali whipped their heads in Peter's direction, regarding him like he had grown a second head.
"Peter, you just got out of the hospital!" Kreide protested immediately.
"Please, just leave this to Ghira and the others. They've handled situations like this before, so just stay here and-"
BAM!
A loud, gunshot-like noise echoed through the room, and a small breeze ruffled Kali's hair, making her flatten her ears. The cause was Peter, punching his fist into his open palm like a boxer. A confident smile was on his face.
"Trust me, I can help."
Highlands Checkpoint:
"How can there be this many?" Ghira glared at the approaching mass of Grimm. Normally, a massive wall of stone and wood separated his people from the Grimm-infested lands, but a hole had been torn through the weakest section by a massive Ursa, its thick bone armor a testament to its age.
Worse, there were far too many Grimm accompanying it. Easily a hundred in number, almost entirely Beowolves and Ursa, though a few Deathstalkers were among them. Menagerie had a terribly small fighting force. The most they could reliably handle at once was roughly fifty Grimm.
"Orders, sir?" The messenger who alerted him to this situation was trembling, obviously terrified.
"I will lead the charge. Tell the snipers to hold here. Get the aura division to advance with me, and keep the chargers in reserve for a second push." Each order was given at an even pace. Ghira's tone was steady and calm, not once did he stutter.
"Yes, sir!"
Running off to accomplish his task, the messenger left his chief alone to overlook the approaching Grimm horde. They would be here shortly, two minutes at best. If they were to survive this, they would have to operate with precision and-
"Mr. Ghira!"
The massive man stiffened the moment he heard that voice. He whipped his entire body around and was met by no other than…
"PETER?!"
"Hey. So, those are Grimm, huh? Yeah, they're definitely ugly, but they don't look too tough." Indeed, the lost boy was standing right beside the veteran Ghira, speaking as casually as a man wondering what he should have for lunch.
"I told you to stay home! You shouldn't be anywhere near this place!"
"I know, sir. But don't worry, I promise I can help. No, I want to help. I figure this is a good chance to repay you for the lessons I'll be needing." To further emphasize his carelessness, on purpose or by accident, Peter casually began stretching, arching his back forward and extending his arms straight up. "I'll admit, I've never fought a Grimm before, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this. Trust me." That confident smirk. Though it was his first time seeing it, Ghira somehow felt that it was natural, that it was how Peter was supposed to look.
This mischievous glint in his eyes, the annoying yet self-assured smirk, the tensing of his muscles…
Ghira had never known Peter Parker before this day.
Yet, somehow, he felt like he understood him perfectly. Who he was. What he was. He knew exactly how suited he was for this task… and exactly how much it would help him. This… distraction, from everything.
"... Fine. But don't do anything reckless. Stay with the unit and always watch your flank."
"Hey, just to check, but the Grimm aren't alive, right?" Peter's question came the moment Ghira finished speaking, like he wasn't really listening at all.
"... Yes. The Grimm are lifeless creatures. They are composed of nothing but shadow and rage. They barely even feel pain. Why do you ask?"
"... Great. Lifeless monsters, huh? In that case, leave this to me. Nobody else needs to be in danger, I can handle this myself." That annoyingly confident smirk grew even larger as Peter impossible jumped almost fifteen feet into the air, sailing over the assembled militia and landing in front of the approaching Grimm.
"WAIT! PETER! GET BACK HERE!" Ghira sprinted down the hill, charging after the foolish boy attempting to throw his life away.
The soldiers, too, took notice of the suicidal teenager.
"What the hell is he doing?!"
"Is that a human?"
"What's he trying to do?!"
Peter paid no mind to the people behind him. Given the distance, the Gimm would reach him even before Ghira did. He could clearly see them, each and every one. The werewolf-like Grimm looked just like the monsters from Uncle Ben's old movies. The bear Grimm seemed slightly troublesome, especially with their spiky, white armor. And the handful of giant scorpions here and there, between the armor and their stingers, looked like they would undoubtedly be the biggest threat.
Most importantly, they all had obvious weak points. The werewolves barely had any armor, so they would be the easiest. The large bears had no protection on their bellies, and even the scorpions had gaps in their armor.
"... I got this. Go take care of it Peter. Do some good here, too."
The soldiers panicked even further as the hopeless "human" wearing tattered clothing began to advance all on his own toward the approaching mass of shadow.
"IDIOT! GET BACK HERE!"
"LEAVE THIS TO US!"
"PETER! COME BACK HERE NOW!"
Ghira's order rang above all the others, but still Peter did not stop. Ten seconds. In that much time, the Grimm would be upon him.
"Hm, guess there's not really any point in holding back if they're not alive. You guys ready for my all-out punch?" Peter finally stopped walking. He raised his right arm, formed a tight fist, and, right as the werewolf at the head of the army leaped forward with outstretched claws, Peter swung his fist with all his body weight behind the punch.
Had the clouds overhead been any darker, one might have mistakenly assumed their ears had just been the victims of a thunderclap. Even those milling about in town heard the dull noise from afar.
At the site of the battle, not a single soldier could keep their jaws from dropping.
"A… a hole."
"He opened… a hole."
So great was the impact of Peter's fist, he not only completely blew apart the Beowolf whose skull his fist had crashed into, but the sheer concussive impact threw every surrounding Grimm off their feet and the shockwave tore straight through a handful of Beowolves who had been just behind their leader.
With one punch, he had killed four Beowolves, and knocked the rest of the horde off their feet.
Peter had been prepared for the unpleasant feeling of monster blood splattering over him, but the black liquid that leaked out of the remnants of the Grimm's broken body completely vanished in just a few seconds, as did its body.
While the other Grimm scrambled to their feet, all except for one Deathstalker that had fallen on its back, Peter wiggled his fingers in front of his face, curiously observing his fist.
"So that's what it feels like to punch as hard as I can. Feels… kind of good."
In the face of the horde of monsters out for his blood, Peter crashed his fist into his palm once more.
"Alright, let's go. I was in a bad mood anyway." Looking over his shoulder, Peter addressed the assembled militia. "Don't worry guys, I'll handle this. You just stay safe, alright?"
Not waiting for an answer, Peter turned back to the Grimm and charged directly into the horde. Everything that followed would be permanently etched into the memories of every man and woman present.
They watched in amazement as an Ursa's head was kicked off its body with such tremendous force, it blew straight through the chest of a Beowolf and into the face of a Deathstalker.
Their bodies shook with fear as a Deathstalker was picked up by its tail and swung around in a circle, killing any Grimm that wandered nearby, before the boy holding it leapt into the air and slammed it down onto a group of Ursa with such force, it cracked the ground and sent chunks of stone flying into the air.
Their breaths hitched with excitement as the strange boy effortlessly grabbed the swiping paw of an alpha Ursa with one hand, only to flip it over and slam its armor spikes through the final Deathstalker's armor.
None of them had ever seen such a thing before. Even Ghira, who was known to slaughter Grimm with his bare hands, had never done anything on this level. Some even began to cheer. Somehow, the boy seemed totally aware of his surroundings. Not a single Grimm was able to sneak up on him, no strike caught him off guard, and any Grimm that dared try to break from the group and charge the militia was snared with webs and pulled back into the fight.
Ghira would have stepped in to help, regardless of how well Peter was handling himself, but he could not move. This… this was just too incredible, inconceivable, unbelievable!
"Peter… who are you?"
97 seconds.
In just 97 seconds, every single Grimm that broke through the wall had been eradicated. If their bodies did not disappear after death, the battlefield would doubtlessly be littered with broken fragments of decimated Grimm bodies.
"All that… with just his hands…"
"Did you see those webs? He's a Faunus too!"
"It's over! He did it!"
While the militia cheered, Ghira alone padded out onto the battlefield. Peter stood by himself, observing his wrists.
"...-ore useful than I thought. This might not be so bad." With his Faunus-enhanced hearing, Ghira could hear Peter muttering to himself about his strange web-patches.
Finally, he turned around.
"Oh, hey chief! So, those are Grimm, huh? They don't seem that tough. If you have any other problems with them, just let me know."
That self-assured smirk again. So confident, so sure of his abilities, so unwilling to let the others intervene if there was a chance they would be injured.
"Yes, I understand you perfectly, Peter." Ghira thought to himself, as he stared at the edge of Peter's mouth, which was straining to pull itself into a smile. "More than you think."
"Indeed, distractions can often be welcome, though it's important to not get lost in them and come back to reality sooner or later." Ignoring the surprise in Peter's eyes as he realized how easily he had been seen through, Ghira smiled brightly and clapped his hands on the much-smaller boy's shoulders. "But that can wait. For now, the people of Menagerie owe you a great debt. Come, we have much to discuss."
6 Days Later:
It had been an informative stay at Menagerie.
The first obvious problem was that Peter had no place to stay. Kreide regretfully had to turn him down, as his home was barely big enough for his own family, but the Belladonna's were kind enough to host him in one of their many spare rooms. It was the least they could do to thank the hero of Menagerie.
Moreover, Peter had taken the opportunity to spend more time walking the streets of Menagerie, learning more about the people staying there. Word spread quickly about him, and many warmed up to him quickly after hearing about what he had done. It was a definite improvement over the harsh treatment he had received on his first day.
Most importantly, he had received an extensive lesson on the world of Remnant.
Hunters and Huntresses, the Grimm as a whole, the kingdoms and their laws, the Great War and its results, and the plight of the Faunus. Fortunately, while he was technically a Faunus by Remnant's standards, as Ghira put it, he could easily pass as a human, so he was unlikely to be discriminated against in the mainland kingdoms. It was rather disappointing to learn that racism was still going strong in this world, but there wasn't much Peter could do in his current position.
Of course, there was one other interesting bit of information Peter gained under Ghira and Kali's teachings.
"The White Fang?"
"Yes, it was a movement we started in our youth." Kali showed Peter a blue armband emblazoned with a white emblem of a circle with a sad-looking wolf inside it. "It was meant to be an equality movement. We led peaceful protests, hoping to campaign for Faunus rights. Even our daughter, Blake, used to attend the protests with us. Sadly, we never achieved much, but we did inspire some downtrodden Faunus to stand up for themselves… perhaps a little too well."
"What do you mean?" Peter had already learned of Blake a few days prior, but Ghira and Kali's expressions noticeably darkened at the mention of their movement's success.
"... When I stepped down as the White Fang's leader to become Menagerie's chieftain, I appointed a trusted friend, Sienna Khan, to be the new leader. I believed she possessed values similar to mine, and I would be able to trust her to continue our peaceful protests. Instead… she turned to violence." Ghira pulled out a second armband, this one red, with a black emblem of a furious-looking wolf in front of serrated claw marks.
"Our peaceful protests became shows of force. When shops would not serve Faunus, the new White Fang bombed them. When Faunus citizens did not have enough food, the White Fang robbed store-owners. And when their own supplies run low, they ransack military convoys. All our efforts to prove the Faunus are a peaceful people were erased by Sienna's actions." Ghira didn't even look angry. Rather, his tone was disappointed, defeated, even.
The battle for equality was never-ending, it seemed. When peace did not work, Sienna turned to violence. Worse, as Ghira explained it, humans began to give Faunus more rights. Not out of respect, but out of fear. Sienna pushed harder, and had yet to realize how fragile her "equality" truly was. The moment the fear went away, all that would be left was hatred, not just for the White Fang, but for all the Faunus. Their species was on the fast-track to disaster, and something had to change soon.
"I'm sure you've seen a few of them around Menagerie, those Faunus wearing Grimm Masks. Their Menagerie presence is rather small, but they remain irritating to no end. They endlessly try to bring me back into the fold, and they don't even assist with Grimm invasions, as I'm sure you noticed." Ghira huffed, turning his complaints to the useless terrorists inhabiting his country.
These past 6 days, Peter had learned a great deal of information. Huntsmen were about the closest thing to superheroes in this world, and they all went to learn at academies. Of course, every kingdom had their own academy, as well as their own assortment of laws, some more fair to the Faunus than others.
"Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I've seen this one girl around a lot. She had a red pony tail and a mask that covers her eyes. She seemed pretty interested in me for some reason."
Indeed, just yesterday, the masked girl had approached Peter, inquiring about his Faunus trait. For some reason, she seemed very interested in his ability to pass as a human.
"Oh, you mean Ilia." Once again, that downtrodden look returned. It was a clearly sensitive subject.
"S-so, uh… how hard is it to get into a Huntsmen academy." Eyebrows were raised at that question.
"That's a little out of nowhere, isn't it? Why do you ask, Peter?" Kali sounded genuinely curious, though Ghira said nothing.
"... I have no idea how to get home. I don't know what to build, and I don't know who to talk to. But, the way I see it, you said that Huntsmen academies have the best technology, resources, and whatever else, right? So, isn't it the best possible place for me? I can learn even more about this world, I can help people as a Huntsman-in-training, and it gives me the best resources to find a way home." Peter made his case carefully, explaining everything he had been thinking of these past few days. Ghira looked thoughtful.
"Let's see… normally you would need transcripts from a combat school, which you likely don't have. It's made even more difficult by the fact that terms begin in 8 days." Peter's mood noticeably fell, but Ghira raised his spirits with a smile. "But, as the chieftain of Menagerie, I do have more than a little bit of sway with academy politics. I could write you a recommendation letter of my own, as well as a personal endorsement of your combat abilities. I used to be in contact with Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon, so I'm sure he would allow you a place in his school."
"REALLY?!" Peter jumped out of his seat excitedly.
"Really. You should be leaving as soon as possible, so I'll get to work straight-away."
"Th-thank you. No, really, thank you, for everything. I would have died without all your help. You gave me a home, you gave me lessons, and now this. I… I don't know what to say. How can I make this up to you?" As he spoke, Peter's eyes fell on a certain blue armband.
"Oh, I know, I can join the White Fang!" Alarm shot through the eyes of both Belladonna's. "Uh, the old one! Your White Fang! You were all about peaceful equality right? Well, I'm going over to the mainland anyway. I can help! I mean, I'm… sort of a Faunus, right? I can advocate for Faunus rights, can't I? That's all I can do to make up for everything you've done."
The Belladonna's regarded Peter curiously. Of all the things they had expected to hear from the good-hearted boy, this definitely wasn't it. Physical traits aside, as far as Peter was concerned, he was still a human. They couldn't say they had experience with humans requesting a spot in the ranks of the White Fang.
"Erm… I don't know if-" Ghira hesitatingly began.
"Of course you can!" Kali exclaimed brightly.
"Kali!" Ghira admonished his wife for her outburst.
"Oh come on, don't be so grumpy. Don't you remember what you said when we started the movement? Anyone who is truly sympathetic to the Faunus' plight, he genuinely wishes to improve their lives and bring equality has no need to ask for a place among us, because they already have one." Kali ignored her husband's sputtering and turned her smiling face to Peter. "Peter, if you have room in your heart for the Faunus and the kindness to speak up for us, you will always have a place among the White Fang."
Kali picked up the original blue and white armband from the table, folded it up, and gave it to Peter. She did so with care and attention, like she was passing her precious child to somebody else.
"I do, and I will. I promise I'll do whatever I can, whenever I can. I'll stand up for any Faunus who needs me, wherever I am, no matter what. You can trust me." Peter accepted the armband with thanks and a promise of his own. Ghira watched the exchange and heaved a sigh.
"Alright then, I hope you understand what you've become a part of. If you'll excuse me, I need to write a letter and secure you a ship. You'll leave tonight if all goes as planned." The massive man turned and left the room, leaving Peter alone with Kali.
"Come to think of it, you don't have aura, do you Peter?"
"That stuff you mentioned before? Uh, no. I don't think I have anything like that."
"Hm. If what Ghira told me is true, I doubt you'll need it buuuuuut, it never hurts to have a little extra protection, no. As long as you have a soul, you should have an aura. Before you leave, you should ask Ghira to unlock it for you. Until then, you have some packing to do. Ah, but, you don't have much to pack, do you. Hrm, right then! We've got a few hours before our last ship leaves, so you and I are going shopping! You need clothes, anyway."
"Huh? W-wait, I don't-"
"Nope, let's go mister!"
Peter's cries fell on deaf ears as the relentless cat woman snatched his wrist and dragged him into town for a day of shopping.
9 Hours Later:
By now, the sky was dark. Only one ship remained at the docks, where Peter now stood with the Belladonnas.
"You should make landfall in Vale by tomorrow. You'll have a week before the term starts by then, so you should get to Beacon as soon as possible. Don't worry, I've already mailed the letter in to Headmaster Ozpin, as well as a few... additional items, so you won't have to do anything."
"Got it. Again, thank you so much." Peter rested his hands in the pockets of his blue and red jacket , one of the many things Kali bought him just hours before. Other than that, his outfit remained unchanged. He figured it would be better to save his good clothes for his interview with Headmaster Ozpin. For now, the hobo clothes would have to stay.
"And Ghira? Thank you for the, um… present?" Peter was honestly unsure of what to call… whatever the older man had just done. Whatever it was, it involved placing his hand on his chest and delivering some strange incantation.
"Of course. Like Kali said, it never hurts to have some extra protection, even if you don't actually need it. I would have liked to give you some basic aura training, but we seem to be out of time."
The nearby transport ship sounded its horn, alerting the group that they would be leaving in the next few minutes.
"It's alright. You two have already done so much for me, I seriously couldn't ask for any more. If I ever get a chance, I'll call you, I promise."
One of the things Kali insisted on buying for Peter was a scroll. Assuming it would be as expensive as a phone, he refused, but Kali wouldn't take no for an answer. According to her, scrolls were used for absolutely everything, including unlocking doors. If he didn't have one, he wouldn't even be able to enter his room at Beacon.
Truth be told, he still wasn't totally sure how to use it.
"Please Peter, don't thank us. After all your help with the Grimm invasion, I consider us even. I'm sure you'll do great at Beacon. There's something in you, something I know Ozpin will see as well." Ghira bestowed his charge with some fatherly words. His tone revealed nothing but honesty.
"You'd better keep that promise, mister! I expect 2 scroll calls every week, no exceptions!" Naturally, Kali was the same as ever.
"Alright, I got it. Twice a week, no problem. I'll let you know how my grades are doing. You taught me plenty, so I don't think I'll be in too much trouble."
Again, the ship horn blew. The anchor was being pulled up and the crew members were taking their positions.
"Well, that's it. I gotta go now. Thank you so much for everything." Peter expressed his heartfelt thanks one last time, receiving a hug from Kali in return.
"You'll do great, Peter. Now get out of here, your ride is leaving."
"What!? Oh, crap!" The boat was indeed leaving. Grabbing his suitcase, Peter leaped off the dock, clearing the drop into the ocean and landing on the boat deck, sighing in relief as his feet met the polished wood.
The Belladonna's watched him leave, unaware of a presence joining them on the dock.
"... So, how did it feel, having somebody to look after again?" Kreide asked his question carefully, not wanting to hurt his old friends.
"... Not quite the same, but it was certainly a good feeling. Maybe he'll even come across Blake in Vale. That's a scroll call I'll be looking forward to." Ghira forced a chuckle out, though the question was admittedly a bit painful.
"Same here. If anybody can convince her to go back, it's Peter." Kali's hopeful smile did not leave as watched the boat grow smaller.
1 Day Later:
"I still can't get used to this stuff. It feels so weird." Peter observed his hand, which had a red sheen surrounding it. Feeling bored in the interrogation room, he absentmindedly flicked on the aura that Ghira unlocked for him. He had yet to learn a single application for aura besides covering his hand with it. Hopefully, the Beacon staff would teach him.
"Whoa! How'd you do that?!" The boy who introduced himself as Ben looked enamored with Peter's glowing hand. "Are you some kind of alien?"
"That's awesome! Is it some kind of EVO ability? Did you come from my world too?" Rex, too, seemed curious about Peter's glowing hand.
"You mind if I try absorbing it? This place doesn't have anything cool to touch. I can't remember the last time I saw some taydenite." Kevin was already reaching over the interrogation table to touch Peter's hand, not waiting for a response.
Jaune just sat quietly at his side of the table, trying to make sense of his potentially insane cellmates. He didn't know what all this "other world" stuff was, or what EVOs or Taydenite were. All he understood was that he didn't understand anything.
As the other 4 continued to talk about things he couldn't make sense of he could only think one thing.
"How did I get stuck with these guys?"
.
.
.
…
… Huh.
This chapter was a lot longer than I planned for it to be. Oh well, as long as it works out in the end, right?
This is a pretty dialogue-heavy chapter, as you saw. The next two will probably be much the same, going off the current pattern. As you've probably realized by now, the first 4 chapters are just going to be explaining how each member of team JPTR (and Kevin) got to Vale. After that, we can get to the real meat of everything. For now, it'll just be a little slow. This took about 7 hours to write, so if I can keep that same pace, I'll probably finish chapters 3 and 4 over the next 2 or 3 days. We'll see. That's the plan, anyway, but I can't promise anything.
In any case, that's the J and P of JPTR down, that just leaves T and R. Also, I was kind of going back and forth for a while on whether Peter should be "P - The Specialist" or "P - The Warfighter," but I ended up deciding "specialist" fits Peter better in general than "Warfighter" does.
Well, thank you for reading, and please do comment, they help a lot. Plus, I just like reading them. They're fun.
Aren signing off.