AN: Hm, not sure about this chapter, but I had written a fair bit (nearly 8k words woo!) and couldn't figure out where to end it exactly. Let me know your thoughts.
Vader spent the entire night feeding scrap into the furnace, testing its capabilities and pushing it to its limits. The rhythmic hum of the machine filled the quiet, the faint glow illuminating the darkness around him. He watched intently as the device broke down the material, converting it into basic metals and alloys, though the results were… less than impressive.
The furnace could produce simple materials—iron, steel, even some low-grade durasteel—yet the quality was far from what he was accustomed to. The durasteel, while usable, lacked the resilience and purity he was accustomed to. And when it came to more intricate components, like electronics, the results were abysmal. Of the three times he attempted to produce a battery, two yielded nothing more than lifeless chunks, and the one that appeared functional barely held a charge long enough to register any potential.
He frowned, calculating the inefficiencies. Using random scraps as source material was possible, but it required immense quantities to produce even a small amount of usable material. Worse still, the end quality was poor, bordering on useless for anything requiring precision or strength. It was clear: the furnace could only operate at its true potential if he fed it materials that already contained the elements he sought.
This device, crude and unfinished, was a mere shadow of the capabilities he had once wielded. If he wanted quality components, he needed real ore, not the mismatched metal he'd been scavenging. Using something like wood to create titanium, for example, was feasible but demanded an enormous quantity, yielding an end product so poor that it would break with minimal strain. However, should he find a source material that was already rich in titanium, the process would not only require less input but would also produce a result closer to the standards he needed.
He fed the furnace one last piece of scrap, watching as it disappeared into the compartment and the machine resumed its steady hum. The potential was there, but until he had the right materials, he would have to make do with these inferior results. For now, he would use what he could, but he needed a more reliable source of quality material if he was to restore his true capabilities.
Despite the machine's shortcomings, Vader couldn't ignore that it was still functional—and in this world, even low-grade results could prove useful. Durasteel, even at its current subpar quality, was likely far beyond anything these people had ever seen. The technology on this planet seemed primitive compared to what he was used to, so a material like durasteel, no matter how weak it was by his standards, would likely be considered a fantastic achievement here.
He fed another piece of scrap into the furnace and watched as, over the next hour, it slowly converted into a small ingot of low-grade durasteel. He picked it up, weighing it in his hand. It lacked the resilience and strength he would expect from properly refined durasteel, but it was sturdy enough. If the inhabitants of this world had never seen anything like it before, they would find it valuable. This opened up certain... possibilities.
The furnace was crude, but its capacity to generate raw materials, even in small amounts, made it useful for now. He could use what it produced for trades, perhaps even to acquire better resources. There was also the blacksmith—Vader could offer him materials of higher quality than anything he had worked with before, ensuring continued cooperation without having to rely on currency or bartering with scrap.
He set the ingot aside, a small flicker of satisfaction breaking through his frustration. The furnace would suffice for now. It could create some basic raw materials like durasteel, iron, and steel, and that was enough to begin more complex projects. At the very least he could upgrade the casing, so that it stopped rattling ominously as much.
His thoughts shifted to the weapon he'd commissioned from the blacksmith—by his estimate, it should be ready tomorrow. And now, with the furnace operational, he had the means to acquire it without using traditional currency, which he was currently lacking.
He turned his gaze back to the small ingot of durasteel he'd just created. Even at its low quality, this material would be unlike anything the blacksmith had worked with before. He could easily present it as a valuable alloy, something beyond the native technology of this world. He would, of course, omit the detail that it was inferior to the durasteel he was accustomed to. In this place, even poor-quality durasteel was a remarkable product.
The blacksmith could test it, determine its strength, and if he found it useful, Vader would propose a deal. He'd offer more in exchange for the weapon he still needed to get, and perhaps future trades. The ingot would be enough to gauge the blacksmith's interest, and if he was willing to pay or trade for a consistent supply, Vader would find himself in a comfortable position to negotiate.
Satisfied with his plan, Vader placed the ingot , he would visit the blacksmith with this sample. If the man was willing to accept trades, then Vader could steadily build a supply of materials to secure resources, tools, and any future weapons he might require.
With the first light of dawn creeping into the clearing, he decided it was time to prepare. He would approach the blacksmith as soon as the village came to life, armed not with credits, but with the promise of a rare and valuable metal.
Yang leaned against the porch railing, watching the first light of dawn spill across the village. Her mind was still buzzing from last night's argument with Ruby. She'd gone to bed with a heavy heart, the echoes of their confrontation replaying in her head like a broken record. She'd told Ruby, outright, that she needed to stop spending time with that man, Vader. The moment she'd laid eyes on him, she'd felt something dark and untrustworthy lurking beneath his cold exterior. It had felt as if he had told the truth, he very easily could have killed her when she had insulted him. She had the feeling it would not have been the first time he did such.
But Ruby hadn't seen it that way at all. "He's given me so many ideas for Crescent Rose," Ruby had argued, frustration in her voice. "He knows things about machines that I'd never heard of before! This is a chance to make my weapon better, to make me a better huntress, and I'm not going to give it up just because you don't like him."
Yang had tried to reason with her, telling her that no amount of weapon upgrades was worth getting mixed up with someone like him. She'd told Ruby that he wasn't safe, that there was something about him that made every instinct she had scream to keep her little sister far away from him. But Ruby had stood her ground, stubborn as always.
"Look, he needs a friend, Yang," Ruby had said, her voice softer but firm. "Even people like him... even if they don't admit it, they need someone to care. Maybe if someone had been there for him earlier, he wouldn't have turned out so... well, like he is now."
Yang had tried to counter, but Ruby's words stuck with her. It wasn't that Yang didn't believe in people needing friends or second chances—it was that she couldn't shake the feeling that this man was not one of those people. He radiated an intensity that left her on edge, a coldness that felt unbreakable. And that threat he'd made, about killing her over an insult... that wasn't something she could just ignore.
She glanced back inside, where Ruby was still asleep, curled up in bed and oblivious to her older sister's worry. Yang sighed, running a hand through her hair. She knew Ruby's heart was in the right place, but she just couldn't shake the gut feeling that this was going to lead to trouble.
I'll just have to keep an eye on her, she thought, steeling herself. I won't let him hurt her, no matter what it takes.
As she watched the sunrise, Yang resolved to stay vigilant. If Ruby wouldn't distance herself from Vader, then Yang would have to be the one to make sure he didn't get any closer than he already had.
The creak of the door behind her made her jump. She turned to see her dad, Taiyang, stepping out onto the porch, stretching his arms over his head as he took in the morning air.
"Oh, hey, Dad," Yang said, trying to compose herself. She hadn't expected him to be up this early.
"Morning, Yang," Taiyang replied with a smile, coming to stand beside her. "You're up early. Something on your mind?"
Yang hesitated, glancing back at the door, half-expecting Ruby to come out. Should I tell him? she wondered, her mind flickering back to her argument with Ruby the night before. She'd promised not to say anything, but she still felt uneasy.
Taiyang watched her with a curious expression, clearly picking up on her hesitation. "Is everything okay?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice. "You and Ruby seemed a bit tense last night."
Yang forced a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "We just had a... disagreement. You know how it is with sisters." She paused, tempted again to tell him what was really bothering her. She knew her dad would want to know if Ruby was getting into something dangerous. But I promised, she reminded herself. And if I tell him now, Ruby will never trust me again.
Taiyang chuckled, nodding. "I know better than anyone. You two have always been close, though. I'm sure you'll work it out." He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You both just care a lot about each other."
Yang managed a small smile. "Yeah, we do. I just... I wish she'd listen to me sometimes, you know?"
Taiyang nodded, giving her an understanding look. "I get it. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Yang. I'm proud of you for looking out for her. Just keep being there for her, and she'll figure it out."
Yang felt a small surge of relief at his words. It helped to know he trusted her, even if he didn't know the full extent of what she was dealing with. "Thanks, Dad," she said, relaxing a little.
Taiyang stretched again, looking down the path that led into town. "Well, I'd better get going. Got some errands to run. You and Ruby take care, alright?"
"Will do," Yang replied, watching him head off.
She stood there for a while longer, letting the morning sun wash over her as she gathered her resolve. Whatever Ruby thought she was getting into, Yang would make sure she had someone watching her back.
Yang sighed as she stepped back inside the house, the lingering tension from last night still weighing on her. The argument with Ruby had left her feeling more protective than usual, but also guilty for being so demanding. Maybe I did overreact, she thought, making her way up the stairs to Ruby's room. I should apologize. She's old enough to make her own decisions, and is more than capable of taking care of herself.
She paused outside Ruby's door, gathering herself. I'll tell her I'm sorry for being so protective, she planned. I still don't trust that Vader guy, but if she wants to keep spending time with him... I won't stop her. I'll just keep an eye out, like I promised.
Yang knocked softly, but there was no answer. "Ruby?" she called, opening the door slightly.
The room was empty.
Her bed was neatly made, though there were signs that Ruby had slept in it. Yang frowned, stepping inside and looking around. Where is she? It wasn't like Ruby to leave without saying anything, especially after the fight they'd had. She must've left even earlier than I woke up... which means she's probably heading back to Vader.
A mix of concern and frustration welled up in Yang's chest. She had wanted to apologize, but now Ruby had snuck out again, likely to meet that strange man in the scrapyard. Yang clenched her fists, trying to shake off the surge of worry. Fine, she thought, if she's going to keep running off like this, I'll just have to keep watching her.
Yang took a deep breath, loosening her fists as she stood in the doorway of Ruby's room. The impulse to follow Ruby was strong, but she stopped herself. She's got to make her own choices, she reminded herself. If I go chasing after her every time, she'll just keep pushing me away.
Stepping back, she closed the door quietly. I'll wait, she resolved. I can still keep an eye on her without hovering. Her gut still twisted with worry, but she knew she had to give Ruby the space to figure things out on her own terms. I won't let her go too far, Yang thought, but I've got to trust her. She's stronger than I give her credit for.
With that, she headed downstairs, mentally preparing herself for the wait. Ruby would be back soon enough, and when she was, Yang would be there, ready to listen, and ready to keep watch from the sidelines.
Ruby sat on the edge of the small clearing where her mother's grave was, her knees pulled up to her chest as she stared at the familiar headstone. The morning air was still cool, and the quiet around her was peaceful, though it did little to ease the knot of emotions swirling inside her. She had been here only a few nights ago, and coming back so soon wasn't something she normally did. Visiting her mom's grave always made her sad, and usually she avoided it for that very reason.
But today was different. She really needed to talk, even if it was to someone who couldn't answer back. Her mom had always been the one person Ruby could count on to listen without judging, and even now, Ruby found comfort in coming here to share her thoughts.
Letting out a deep breath, she placed her hand gently on the gravestone, tracing the flower etched into it. "Hey mom. I... I had a fight with Yang last night," she began, her voice soft in the stillness. "She's really worried about me, and I get why. I know she's just looking out for me. But... it's more than that."
Her mind drifted to Vader, and she felt a strange pull in her chest. "I've been spending a lot of time with someone... someone who's kind of... well, he's hard to explain. Yang doesn't like him. She thinks he's dangerous. And I guess... I know he is. I mean, he threatened her the other day, and he's really... intense. But..."
She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "But he's helped me too. He's given me ideas for Crescent Rose that I never would've thought of on my own. And... I don't know, it just feels like he's... lost, in a way. Like, maybe he needs someone to talk to, even if he'd never admit it."
Her voice trailed off as she stared at the gravestone, her eyes clouding with emotion. "I don't know what to do, Mom. I feel like I'm stuck between what Yang thinks is best for me and what I think might be best for him. But I can't really talk to anyone about it... except you."
Ruby sighed, letting her fingers trace the flower pattern again as she tried to gather her thoughts. "You know, the other night, I found him meditating. I didn't mean to spy on him, but... I couldn't help it. He was just sitting there, and this... this energy was pouring off him. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was so strong, it felt almost like a song, but... darker. I don't know, I can't explain it well."
She shivered slightly, remembering the strange, intense sensations that had washed over her. "I could feel everything he was feeling, or at least I think I did. It was like... like this overwhelming wave of anger, sadness, and even joy all mixed together. I don't know how to explain it, but for that moment, it felt like I was right there with him, feeling all of it."
Her gaze dropped to the ground as she tried to put the experience into words. "I don't think he saw me, not at first, anyway. But then, out of nowhere, a Grimm attacked. I was so shocked, I barely had time to shout a warning. But he—he just reacted. He didn't even seem surprised. It was like he expected it."
She took a deep breath, the memory still vivid. "He caught it in the air, Mom. With just a wave of his hand, he held it there, suspended like it weighed nothing. And then... he crushed it. Like it was made of paper or something. It was gone in an instant, just... nothing left."
Ruby hugged her knees, her brow furrowing as she tried to piece together her thoughts. "I mean, it's got to be his Semblance, right? What else could explain the way he did that? But... he didn't even know what a Semblance was when I mentioned it. And when I tried talking about Aura, he looked at me like I was speaking a different language."
She tilted her head, puzzling over it. "It doesn't make any sense. Maybe he has amnesia? I mean, how could anyone forget something as basic as a Semblance or Aura? But if he has amnesia, then how come he knows so much about machines? He seems to remember those just fine."
Ruby's fingers idly traced patterns in the dirt. "Can amnesia just make you forget some things and not others? I always thought you'd either forget everything or nothing at all. But maybe there's a part of him that's locked away, like a door he hasn't opened yet."
She sighed, looking back at the gravestone, wishing for a response that would help her make sense of it all. "I don't know, Mom. It's like he's a puzzle with pieces missing, and he doesn't even realize it. Or maybe he does, but he won't let anyone else see the picture."
Her thoughts quieted for a moment, and she felt a small weight lift from her chest. Talking about it didn't bring any answers, but at least it made the questions seem a little less heavy.
Ruby ran her fingers over the grass, lost in thought. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and... I really think he needs a friend," she murmured, almost as if testing the words aloud. "When I felt his emotions the other night, I didn't really think about it at first. It was just... overwhelming, you know? But now that I've had time to think, it's like... it felt lonely. He felt lonely."
She let out a soft sigh, pulling her knees closer. "It's strange, Mom. I don't think he'd ever admit it, but there was something in all that anger and sadness... like he's carrying a weight he doesn't know how to put down. And... I don't know, I just can't shake the feeling that he needs someone to be there for him. And that I… might know some of what that's like."
Ruby closed her eyes, taking in the quiet around her. "I know the world isn't always sunshine and rainbows," she whispered. "But that's where we come in, right? We try to make it better. We're supposed to help people who are struggling, even if they don't ask for it. That's what being a Huntress is all about."
She took a deep breath, letting the words settle into her heart. "Maybe Vader doesn't realize he needs help, or maybe he's too proud to ask for it. But I can't just stand by and do nothing. If there's even the slightest chance I can make things a little brighter for him, then I should try, shouldn't I? That's what you always taught me."
The breeze stirred around her, and Ruby almost felt as though her mother was there, listening and understanding. "I know it's risky. And I know it's probably not going to be easy. But I think... I think he really does need someone who cares, even if he'd never say it. So I'm going to keep trying, Mom. I'm going to be the kind of Huntress you'd be proud of."
She sat in silence for a moment, letting the resolve wash over her. It wasn't a perfect plan, not really a plan at all to be honest, and it probably wasn't the safest one either… but it felt right. She'd do her best to make a difference, no matter how small. That was what it meant to be a Huntress, after all.
Taiyang strode down the path toward town, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the trail. His steps were steady, but his mind was elsewhere, circling around his daughters—especially Ruby. She had been acting differently lately, more focused and distant, and though he trusted her, he couldn't help but feel a nagging worry.
Maybe it's just the Crescent Rose upgrades, he thought, glancing up at the sky as he walked. She's been spending a lot of time working on her weapon, and that's normal for her. But... there's something else. Something I'm missing.
That's why he was heading into town—to check in with Zaff the blacksmith and see if Ruby had dropped off any parts for modification. She hadn't mentioned anything to him directly, but Taiyang knew his daughter well enough to guess when she had a project in mind. Maybe the blacksmith would know more about what she was working on.
At least, that's what he told himself. In truth, he just needed to feel like he was keeping tabs on things. After all, being a father meant staying one step ahead, even when your kids thought they had everything under control.
Yang mentioned they had a fight, he reflected as he approached the outskirts of town. She's protective, but maybe it's more than just that this time. Ruby's been sneaking off earlier than usual, and whatever she's caught up in... I need to make sure she's safe.
He pushed open the door to the blacksmith's shop, nodding in greeting to the man behind the counter. "Morning," Taiyang said, keeping his tone light. "I wanted to ask if Ruby's been by here recently. Has she dropped anything off for Crescent Rose?"
Zaff looked up from where he was reading, and scratched his beard, thinking for a moment. "Not recently, Tai. Last I saw her, she was inquiring about some adjustments, but she hasn't brought anything in for a while. At least a few weeks."
Taiyang nodded, though the answer did little to ease the knot in his chest. So she's not working with the blacksmith right now. But if she's been this focused on something, what is it?
Taiyang leaned against the counter, making small talk with the blacksmith about the usual—upcoming repairs, tools needing replacement, and the occasional job done for Signal Academy. The familiar rhythm of conversation helped ease his mind, even if it didn't completely banish the lingering worry about Ruby. It was the kind of idle chatter Taiyang was used to, a way to check in with the townspeople and keep things running smoothly.
Then the shop door creaked open, and Taiyang's smile faded as he turned to see who had entered. The man—the stranger he had brought to town days ago—stepped inside, his presence instantly unsettling the calm atmosphere of the shop.
Taiyang stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly as the man moved further into the room. He had never trusted the stranger, not from the moment they'd first crossed paths in the woods. The way he carried himself, the quiet menace in his movements... It was all too familiar, too dangerous.
Zaff, catching the change in Taiyang's demeanor, glanced between the two of them before addressing the newcomer. "Ah, there you are. Came to settle up for the sword, I take it?"
The stranger's eyes flicked to Taiyang briefly before he nodded to the blacksmith. "Yes. I've come to discuss payment."
Taiyang didn't miss the cold edge in the man's voice. He hadn't known much about this person, just that he was dangerous. Taiyang had been the one to bring him to the blacksmith when he first arrived—clothesless, weaponless, but not helpless—at the path leading to town. And though he had provided the upfront payment for the weapon, it had been made clear that the rest of the payment would be due once it was finished.
Zaff, seemingly unfazed, reached for a ledger, flipping through the pages. "Well, it's not done yet, just got the materials in today and had some other orders to fill first. If you want to pay the rest now though, you can, though I'd suggest waiting until you receive the blade."
Taiyang folded his arms, staying silent but keeping a close watch on the interaction. He didn't trust this man, not even a little. He knew better than to turn his back on someone who carried that kind of darkness. Who is this guy, really? he thought. And why does he feel like such a threat, even without a weapon?
The stranger stepped forward, pulling a small ingot from his cloak and placing it on the counter. Taiyang's eyes flicked to the object—a dull, grayish metal, nothing like the typical materials used in the village. The blacksmith reached for it, inspecting it with a keen eye.
"This is... interesting," Zaff muttered, turning the ingot over in his hands. "What kind of metal is this?"
"A rare alloy," the stranger replied, his tone as cold and distant as ever. "More valuable than any ingot you've worked with."
Taiyang's jaw clenched. Something about this whole situation rubbed him the wrong way. He stepped forward slightly, his eyes still on the ingot. "What's this supposed to be?" he asked, his voice low but steady.
The stranger glanced at Taiyang, his expression unreadable. "It will suffice as payment for the weapon. The blacksmith can confirm its value."
Taiyang didn't respond immediately, but the tension in the room was palpable. He wasn't sure what game this man was playing, but he didn't like the way he operated—too secretive, too sure of himself. Zaff, for his part, seemed intrigued by the ingot, testing its weight and inspecting its surface.
The blacksmith retrieved a diamond file from his workbench and began running it along the surface of the ingot, testing its resistance. "You know, if this metal is as rare and valuable as you say, I'd have expected to hear about it," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "CCTS always updates on any new alloys or materials found with unique properties. I stay on top of that kind of news. Not much gets by me."
He continued filing, only to pause as the tool barely left a mark on the surface. The metal held up under the file, its durability surprising even to the blacksmith. He glanced back up, a skeptical glint in his eye. "So how'd you come by this, then? Doesn't seem like something you just find lying around. Nobody's gonna come looking for this, are they?"
Taiyang, who had been standing to the side, shifted his stance, his gaze sharpening though he kept his face carefully neutral. He didn't miss the implication, and it did nothing to ease his distrust. The stranger had appeared out of nowhere, without so much as a shirt on his back. And now he was pulling rare alloys out of thin air? It was enough to make anyone suspicious.
The man's expression remained impassive, unfazed by the blacksmith's remark. "I created it myself. A recent development, you might say," he replied smoothly, his tone cold and final. "I'm not sharing the technique with anyone, so don't ask."
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, leaning back and crossing his arms as he regarded the stranger. "You're telling me you created this? Out of what? The scraps lying around town? That's a hard pill to swallow, stranger."
The man's eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation flashing across his face. "Believe what you will. The metal speaks for itself, does it not?"
Zaff turned the ingot over in his hands, his reluctance evident as he nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll take it as payment for now, but I'll need to run more tests on this before I'm convinced of its value." He placed the ingot on the workbench, eyeing it as though it were some strange artifact.
Vader crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. "Its properties extend beyond simple strength," he began, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's highly resistant to kinetic damage and can be stretched extremely thin while maintaining its durability. I suggest you test it thoroughly."
Zaff raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his beard as he considered the stranger's words. "Kinetic resistance, huh?." He scratched his chin, visibly skeptical but intrigued. "Well, that's bold. I'd like to see just how true that is."
He placed the ingot back on the table, eyeing it with a mix of caution and curiosity. "I think I'll make a dagger from it," Zaff decided, grabbing a few tools. "It'll give me a good sense of how this stuff handles under shaping and sharpening. But it'll take me a couple of hours."
Vader gave a curt nod, his posture stiff. "Then I will wait."
Zaff blinked, looking up from his tools with a frown. "You don't have to stick around. I can send for you when it's done."
"No," Vader replied, his tone flat. "I prefer to be here. I trust my own eyes."
Zaff shot Taiyang a glance, clearly unsure what to make of the stranger's insistence, but he simply shrugged and went back to his work. Taiyang, for his part, kept his gaze fixed on Vader, noting the way he watched Zaff with an intense, almost predatory focus.
With Zaff focused on his work, Taiyang kept his stance relaxed, but his guard was still up. He wasn't about to leave either, not while this stranger lingered in the shop, intent on whatever secrets he had yet to reveal.
A couple of hours later, Zaff set down his tools and stepped back to examine the dagger he'd just quenched and sharpened. The blade had taken shape surprisingly well, its edges sharp and polished to a reflective sheen. He picked it up, nodding with satisfaction before moving to a nearby vice. Clamping the dagger securely in place, he pulled a heavy hammer from his workbench.
"All right," Zaff muttered, casting a quick glance at Taiyang and then at Vader. "Let's see if this thing holds up like you say."
He raised the hammer and brought it down on the edge of the dagger with a sharp clang, the sound ringing through the shop. To his surprise, the blade remained unmarked, a faint hum vibrating through the air. He frowned, leaning in for a closer look. Not a scratch, not even a chip.
"Interesting," Zaff muttered, lifting the hammer and striking again, this time with more force. The blade rang out once more, steady and resilient, and still, there was no sign of damage. He straightened, scratching his head. "Well, I'll be. This stuff really doesn't chip."
He pulled the dagger from the vice, turning it over in his hand, and reached for another blade from his collection—a simple hunting knife he'd been working on earlier. He raised the knife and brought it down against the edge of the dagger. The impact rang out again, but this time, the hunting knife bore a small nick where it had struck.
He tested it again, hitting the dagger's edge with the hunting knife from different angles, and each time, it was the hunting knife that suffered the damage. Zaff's eyes widened slightly, an impressed smile tugging at his lips. "This is something else," he admitted, glancing up at Vader with a newfound respect. "Your metal's got a bite to it. Never seen anything hold an edge like that."
Vader remained impassive, though a hint of satisfaction flickered in his gaze. "I told you it was resilient."
Taiyang watched the exchange with a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. As much as he disliked the stranger, he couldn't deny the effectiveness of the material. Zaff wiped his hands and set the dagger down, still looking at it with admiration. "So, you were right. I can't say I understand how you got your hands on it, but it's impressive. I'll keep my end of the deal—consider your payment covered."
Vader stepped forward, his gaze shifting to the unfinished weapons hanging around the shop. His voice cut through the silence as he spoke to Zaff. "Forget the standard materials. I want the sword made out of this," he said, nodding toward the durasteel dagger the blacksmith had just tested. "Durasteel will serve me better than what you originally planned."
Zaff raised an eyebrow, considering the request. "Durasteel huh? Well, that's going to be more work. This material is tougher to forge and shape, and it took forever with the sanding machine to get the edge on it. Might have even ruined the sanding belt. I'll need to spend more time on it to get the blade balanced and sharpened right." He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly. "If you want that, the price goes up. I'll need more of this durasteel. A lot more."
Vader didn't hesitate. "You'll have it," he said, his tone flat and confident. "How much?"
Zaff rubbed his chin, calculating the extra effort and time. "At least ten ingots, not including what you've given me already. I'll be able to use the rest of this ingot and maybe one more to make your blade, since I can make it so thin. No shortcuts if you want this done properly."
Vader gave a curt nod, unfazed by the demand. "Agreed. You'll have the ingots soon enough."
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by the stranger's confidence. "Good. Once I've got the metal, I'll begin work on your sword. It'll take some time, but it'll be worth it if this durasteel holds up as well as it did with that dagger."
Vader inclined his head slightly, then turned on his heel and left the shop without another word. Taiyang watched him go, tension easing just a bit as the stranger disappeared down the street. He let out a quiet breath, then turned back to Zaff, who was examining the dagger with a satisfied grin.
"So," Taiyang said, crossing his arms. "Was that metal really as good as he says? Durable and all that?"
Zaff chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, it's better than he said. If anything, I undersold it to him. This durasteel stuff—it's the real deal. If I can get it thin enough to work into armor, even in sheets, you'd be hard-pressed to find anything short of an elder Grimm that could tear through it. And that's not something you see every day."
Taiyang whistled low, clearly impressed. "So you think you got the better end of the deal, then?"
"Better?" Zaff laughed, setting the dagger down. "I made out like a bandit here. If that guy can keep supplying me with this stuff, I'll be able to make equipment that'll fetch a fortune, even with just two ingots and a couple pieces of armor or weapons considering how thin this stuff can be made. With ten ingots, I'll be set for years."
The next day passed in a blur of activity. Vader returned to the blacksmith's shop early in the morning, carrying the ten ingots of durasteel as promised. Zaff inspected each one carefully, nodding with approval as he weighed and measured them. Satisfied, he set to work immediately, dedicating the day to forging the weapon Vader had commissioned.
By the end of the day, Zaff presented the completed sword—a sleek, sturdy blade forged from the rare metal, with a balance that suited Vader's preferences. The sword gleamed with a faint, steely sheen, the durability of the durasteel evident in the way it held its edge.
As Vader reached for the weapon, Zaff spoke up. "Hold on a moment," he said, gesturing to the blade. "Before you go swinging it around, let me tell you a bit about how it's made."
Vader paused, his gaze shifting to the blacksmith with a trace of curiosity. Zaff tapped the blade's center with a practiced finger, a faint note of pride in his voice. "I had to alloy the durasteel edges with a heavier metal at the core. The metal you gave me isn't particularly flexible on its own, so I needed to adjust it. The edges are made from durasteel, so they won't chip, but the center is high-quality steel with a bit more give to it. It'll bend rather than snap, and it's got a little extra heft, too. Helps when you're trying to pierce the hide of a Grimm."
He leaned back, wiping his hands on his apron. "And since I used less durasteel than I thought I'd need, that's a win in my book. Not a bad trade-off, if I say so myself."
Vader took the sword from Zaff with a curt nod, turning it over in his hands and testing its weight. It was heavier than the lightsaber he was accustomed to, by a fair margin, but he could adapt. This would serve his purpose, at least for now. With the weapon in hand, he left the shop without another word, making his way to the clearing where he'd first set up camp.
The clearing was quiet, the soft rustling of leaves in the early evening wind the only sound as he prepared to practice. The sword's leather wrapped hilt felt strange in his grip—primitive, almost—but he knew it would be a necessary adjustment. He would need to train until the blade felt as natural as any weapon he had wielded.
He raised the sword, taking a measured stance as he began his drills, focusing on adapting his movements to the new weapon. The weight of the blade was different, but his movements remained precise and controlled. As he swung, he could feel the power of the metal, a small testament to the beginning of his return to strength.
Vader moved through the clearing with measured precision, his grip firm on the sword's hilt as he swung it through the air. Each movement was careful and deliberate, his stance shifting fluidly as he adjusted to the weapon's weight. It was crude compared to a lightsaber, but the sword had a certain raw strength that suited him, for now.
After a time, he began to feed the Force into his strikes. At first, it was a small, controlled pulse, flowing into his muscles and sharpening his reflexes. He could feel his movements quicken, his reaction times becoming almost instantaneous. The sword cut through the air with a low hum, his grip firm as he delivered strike after strike, each one faster than the last.
He focused on the Force, letting it expand through him, enhancing his speed and the power of his blows. His strikes grew heavier, the blade moving with a swiftness that belied its weight. With every swing, he could feel the familiar rhythm returning, his connection to the Force strengthening with each passing moment.
Vader practiced with relentless focus, his movements becoming faster and more powerful with each swing. The energy of the Force flowed through him, pushing him past the limitations of his physical strength and endurance. He drove the blade downward in a powerful arc, watching as the air seemed to ripple in response, the impact leaving a faint tremor in the ground beneath his feet.
Lost in the rhythm of his training, he hardly noticed the quiet rustle of footsteps approaching from behind. He swung the sword in a wide arc, his focus entirely on the flow of movement and power, when he caught a flicker of motion just within his periphery. Without thinking, he halted his strike, barely pulling back in time to avoid catching the figure that had appeared just behind him.
He pivoted, the blade mere inches from the startled face of Ruby, who had frozen in her tracks, wide-eyed and clearly surprised by how close she'd come to being hit. She held her hands up in a quick gesture of apology, a sheepish smile breaking through her initial shock. "Whoa, sorry! Didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."
Vader lowered the blade, narrowing his eyes as he regarded her. "That was incredibly foolish. You should know better than to approach from behind," he said, his tone cold and measured. "I won't always be able to stop my swing in time."
Ruby took a step back, though her smile remained. "I know, I know. It's just... I heard you practicing, and I wanted to see how it was going. That sword looks awesome!"
Vader sheathed the weapon, maintaining a scrutinizing gaze. "Next time, announce yourself before you step into my range," he said, a trace of irritation in his voice. "It would be wise to remember that."
Ruby tilted her head, her grin never faltering. "I was actually hoping to watch you for a while, if that's okay. I've never seen anyone use a sword like that before! The way you move is... well, it's not like any training I've seen."
Vader's gaze remained steady, the irritation in his eyes perhaps softening just slightly as he considered her request. It was clear she was fascinated, though he couldn't tell if her curiosity stemmed from admiration or simple intrigue. Regardless, she had a certain persistence about her—a quality that, though occasionally grating, had proven useful.
He paused, then gave a brief nod. "Very well. Watch, if you wish. But do not distract me."
Ruby nodded enthusiastically, stepping back to give him space. She dropped down to sit on a nearby rock, her eyes fixed on him with rapt attention. "Promise! I'll be quiet." she said, pulling a small notebook and pencil from her pocket.
Vader raised an eyebrow but said nothing, turning back to the clearing. He took a steadying breath, drawing on the Force once again as he resumed his movements. Each swing of the sword was sharp and precise, his control over the weapon growing with each pass. He allowed himself to fall back into the rhythm of the practice, aware of Ruby's watchful gaze but keeping his focus on the weapon in his hands.
As Vader moved through his drills, he became acutely aware of a subtle shift in his connection to the Force. It was as if a filter had widened, allowing the energy to flow more freely through him. He paused for a fraction of a second, testing it, drawing on the Force again with more intent. This time, it responded with unexpected ease, the energy pulsing through his muscles and sharpening his focus in a way he hadn't experienced since arriving in this strange world.
The sensation was both familiar and disconcerting. He had expected a gradual recovery of his power, but this was different. It felt like a door had opened, allowing him access to reserves he hadn't anticipated. He let the Force flow through him, experimenting with the increased connection, each strike and movement seeming to require less effort yet delivering more power.
He took a step back, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. The Force had always been an extension of his will, but now it felt almost as if it were responding more readily, as though the limits he'd been operating under were suddenly lifted, if only slightly. He glanced over at Ruby, who was watching him with wide eyes, her notebook forgotten in her hands.
On a whim, Vader reached out into the Force, letting his senses drift toward Ruby. He didn't expect to find anything out of the ordinary—perhaps the vague, faint echo of a presence like the other townsfolk. But as he focused on her, he felt a sudden surge of something unexpected. Her presence in the Force wasn't faint or insignificant; it was startlingly strong, brighter than anything else he'd sensed since arriving here. And there was something else as well...
He narrowed his focus, probing deeper, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. As he did, a realization hit him like a cold shock: there was a bond forming between them, a Force-bond. It was still in its infancy, barely more than a thread, but he could feel it nonetheless, connecting their presences in a way that went beyond mere observation.
Vader gripped the hilt of his sword, the realization settling over him like a dark, heavy cloak. He thought back over the past few days, recognizing a slow but undeniable shift in his actions and decisions. In a way that defied his usual instincts, he had been more patient, even strangely tolerant. He had allowed Ruby's interruptions, her questions, and her persistent presence without the intense irritation he might have once felt.
The nature of Force-bonds was something he knew well. They usually formed gradually, developing over time between a Jedi Master and a Padawan as they grew together and learned to understand one another. Normally, such a connection would take months, even years to develop between two individuals. But this bond had formed quickly, almost unnaturally so, and it was clearly having an effect on him. The pace at which it had developed was alarming, and he realized that whatever had happened between them wasn't normal by any means.
Something unique must have catalyzed it, something beyond the ordinary circumstances that typically forged such bonds. His mind returned to the moment a few days previously when the Grimm attacked, the surge of raw emotion while he was meditating, and Ruby's unexpected presence, close enough to feel the pulse of his power. Had she unknowingly opened herself to the Force then, in a way that connected them? No, it was almost as if the Force itself had seized that moment, weaving them together in a way he couldn't fully comprehend.
This was no ordinary connection. He felt it now, subtle but undeniable—a quiet influence, nudging him away from the darkness he had embraced for so long. He hadn't sensed anything like this in years, not since his time with Ahsoka, and certainly not since becoming Vader. The rapid formation of this bond defied explanation; it was as though the Force had overridden the natural pace, driving them together through some hidden will or purpose.
He turned back to find Ruby watching him, her brow furrowed with concern. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle but probing. He could feel the bond pulsing between them, an undeniable link that tied them together, one that had formed under circumstances he still didn't fully understand.
For a moment, he stood there in silence, the weight of the connection pressing on him. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words didn't come. This wasn't something he could dismiss or explain away.
For the first time in his life, Anakin had no idea how to respond.
AN: Woops, there it is. Now, those of you raising your pitchforks that I called him Anakin, slow your roll. All will be explained in time, and this is certainly still Vader.
Review Responses for Chapter 8:
skyway920:"I'm a bit confused that blaster bolts are faster than bullets (or am I missing something?)"
No, not really missing anything. While the movies and games make them seem slower, that is for the viewer's/player's benefit rather than how they truly are acting. Throughout Legends and other sources, it is made clear that blaster bolts are supposed to be similar to bullets in speed. We have also seen that the more powerful a blaster is, for example disruptor rifles such as the T-7, the faster the bolt moves and the more deadly it is. Something similar to that, compared to a kinetic sniper rifle, would be childs play. That's not even factoring in not needing to adjust for gravity or wind nearly as much, a blaster bolt tends to continue traveling at the same speed as it was launched at. It dissipates in power the further it travels, but continues at the same speed.
Grand Chaos Master: "Why did Vader not use Sith Alchemy? Old Republic Sith used Sith Alchemy to create their Sith Crystals, and I doubt Palp didn't teach Vader how to use it because he taught Dooku."
Good ol' Sheev actually didn't teach Vader! The two had a rather sink-or-swim relationship, and Sheev never went out of his way to teach Vader anything special about the dark side. Vader was just that strong in it to begin with, and teaching him more (especially obscure arts that Sheev was using to continue growing in power and keeping himself immortal) was not high on his to-do list.
As for him teaching Dooku, I'm not entirely certain he did. While it is certainly possible, the whole point of recruiting him was that he was already a fully trained Jedi Master. He was a stop-gap apprentice, there until he could manipulate Anakin into his control. He taught Dooku how to use Sith Lightning, and helped him hone his combat to be sure, but I have personally seen no evidence that Dooku ever used alchemy in canon or Legends. I might have just missed something however.
RandoFox: "I feel like Yang was a little over the top, I don't see why she would be so mad at Vader giving ruby the gas canister and call it dangerous."
No, you are absolutely correct, Yangwas over the top. The whole reason she was acting like that in that scene will come up later on, but a majority of it had to do with how she was introduced to Vader. Remember, when she first saw him, she had thought that the person that Ruby was working on her weapon with was Ruby's boyfriend. On top of that, she was upset because Ruby said that the person (Who she thought was Ruby's boyfriend) basically ignored her and was short with her constantly, and was using her. When she saw that it was a 45 year old man... yeaaah she got a bit protective.