[#] Just a heads up, Ko-fi subscribers have access to 5 chapters ahead, plans start at 1 buck.
[#] Do you like the way I respond to comments? By including nickname and the website where the comment came from? Or do you think it's too much information and that I shouldn't mention the original website?
COMMENTS:
Alice Scarlett Knabel[fanfiction]:Hope you bring your gohan story here.
Avip:I plan to bring back Dragon Ball Isekai: Gohan Gamer. However, it would come after the return of Rusted Professor, and would compete with Naruto: Isekai Saiyan.
Your comments do influence my decisions, but the Ko-fi subscribers [especially Silver Flame and Golden Flame] have more weight in my decisions of which story to stop and which to return.
[Raven Branwen]
I didn't expect the day to start so strangely.
First thing I noticed was the wind changing abnormally, unnaturally blowing downward. The breeze carries a peculiar smell, different from the usual forest aroma.
My eyes narrow, catching the subtle change in the environment. A large, dense, abnormal black cloud begins to hover over the camp. It's not the smoke from the bonfires, nor rain clouds. It's something different, something that shouldn't be there.
"Smells like male body spray and beer." I whisper, ruminating on what this could be.
Others from the Branwen tribe members continue their activities, oblivious to the strange pattern forming in the sky. Sound of laughter and conversations doesn't cease, but my instincts tell me something isn't right.
The cloud moves irregularly, as if it has a will of its own. I watch carefully, trying to decipher what could be causing it.
"Safe bet is a maiden, but could also be a Semblance."
My instincts have never failed me before, so I put on my Nevermore mask to hide my Spring Maiden powers if necessary and activate my sheath, quickly a wind Dust blade is connected to my sword hilt as finally, others in the camp start noticing the strange cloud.
I assume my Iaijutsu stance and charge my sword with Aura, triggering the Dust blade's reaction.
"Reveal yourself!" I shout loudly, drawing my sword in an arch through the air, creating a flying wind slash.
The wind slash hits the cloud, dispersing it and revealing a black jet, unlike any Bullhead I've ever seen.
"What is that, Leader?" Vernal asks, arriving at my side.
"I don't know," I reply without taking my eyes off the jet. "It doesn't appear to be one of Ozpin's models."
With everyone's attention focused on the hovering aircraft, music starts playing from its speakers, music unlike anything I've ever heard.
Guitar riffs fill the air, accompanied by a high-pitched, peculiar vocal howling disturbingly.
The tribe begins to crowd under the ship, drawn by the unusual sound. Murmurs of curiosity spread among them. The jet remains static in the air, its presence imposing and mysterious.
The black jet's hatch opens, releasing several white robots flying out, carrying white boxes. They move quickly, placing the boxes on the ground before quickly flying back to the aircraft.
"Don't approach!" I shout to the tribe, my voice echoing through the camp.
But it was too late. One impulsive idiot had already opened one of the boxes.
"It's cold beer!" he exclaims, grabbing a can.
"There's more here!" shouts another tribe member, opening another box.
Dark metal cans are revealed, each containing an amber liquid that glows in the sunlight.
Before I can reprimand the foolish behavior, the music reaches a crescendo. The sound of guitar riffs echoes louder through the camp, making the ground vibrate, followed by a voice calling my name:
"Raven Branwen!" A voice resounds, clear and powerful. "I challenge you for control of the Branwen clan."
The sound of my name makes me shudder. My men stop and stare at me, the music still pulsing in the air. All eyes turn to me, waiting for a reaction. The black jet remains in the air, motionless but now even more threatening.
"Who dares challenge me?" I say, pointing my sword toward the jet.
The music's volume rises as if climbing steps.
From the hovering black jet, a figure in armor emerges. It jumps without a parachute or any landing strategy. When it hits the ground with one knee bent and the opposite fist punching the earth, it creates a small crater from the impact.
"Me!" Replies my challenger as the music explodes.
{Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games
We got everything you want, honey, we know the names
We are the people that can find whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey, we got your disease}
The clan members, now completely engrossed in the spectacle, raise their cans in salute, toasting the challenger who dared to face me.
"Fools cheering for someone who clearly came to arrest them," I mutter through clenched teeth, keeping my eyes fixed on the challenger.
As the challenger stands, I get a better look at him. His futuristic white armor shines in the sunlight. He wears futuristic white and gold armor, better than anything I've seen from an Atlas soldier, at the center of his chest is a strange circle glowing with a blue light..
He walks toward me, each step firm and deliberate. The tribe applauds, impressed by the dramatic entrance.
"Who are you?" I ask, my voice sharp as a blade.
Stopping a few meters away, I notice the challenger is over two meters tall.
"Jaune Arc," he says through the armor speaker, pointing his thumb at himself.
I laugh loudly, a guttural sound echoing through the camp. The tribe falls silent, surprised by my reaction.
"So you are the son of the 'Vales Lion,'" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your father is a great warrior, but I doubt his little cub is worthy of my blade."
The futuristic armored warrior takes a microphone from his holster and brings it to his mask.
"Raven laughs at me, thinking I'm JOKE, not worthy of her blade," he says dramatically into the microphone, which seems redundant as he is using the armor speaker. "The real joke here is that the person talking about WORTH is the biggest coward in all of Remnant."
[Image]
My eyes widen, frozen by a mix of surprise and consuming hatred.
The challenger, taking advantage of my paralysis, continues:
"Raven Branwen, the great leader of the Branwen tribe," he says sarcastically. "No wonder your Semblance is teleportation." He turns to me and points his finger in my direction. "The perfect power for a woman who ran from the enemy, ran from her husband, and most pathetically of all, ran from her own daughter." He finishes by dropping the microphone to the ground.
PUFF!
Consumed by fury, I charge blindly, my blade cutting through the air in a deadly arc.
"DAMN YOU!" I scream furiously.
However the challenger dodges with supernatural speed, drawing a strange yellow metal collar. As my sword finds only empty air, the momentum of the swing throws me off balance briefly.
Taking advantage of my opening, the challenger places the collar around my neck before I can react. The cold metal touches my skin, sending an electric shock down my spine. I try to break free, but the bow adjusts, tightening around my neck forcefully.
"What is this?" I snarl, my voice filled with rage and frustration.
"An Inhibitor Collar," the challenger replies. "You won't be able to use your Semblance to escape or your Spring Maiden powers."
My eyes widen at the declaration.
"How?" I ask, stunned.
"None of your business," the armored man says, assuming a running stance. "Church, I want armor enhancement, speed."
{{You got it!}} Exclaim a familiar voice from his armor.
"Is that Tai?"
But before I can have my answer he disappears from my sight.
"Where did-UGH!" I feel the impact before I saw him.
Even with aura I flinched from the impact of his fist on my stomach.He is on top of me, moving with even more absurd speed than before. He blues as punches and kicks strike my body, each faster and stronger than the last. I try to react, but my movements are too slow. He stops my actions with punches to my stomach and face, his armor glows with each attack, as if feeding off my pain.
Every impact sends shockwaves through my body. Even with my Aura up I feel my bones shake inside, my muscles scream in protest.
In seconds of fighting he makes my Aura around me flickers, desperately trying to hold. But the lion's son is relentless. I try to use my Semblance, to teleport out of his reach, but the collar around my neck emits a low hum, blocking my ability.
His next kick hits my ribs, and I feel something break. The pain is excruciating, but I can't afford to give up.
'I can't be defeated like this, not by a kid I don't even know.'
But he continues, relentless as I finally realize something.
'This is not a fight… it's just an execution.'.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, my Aura shatters. I feel the protective barrier disintegrate, leaving me vulnerable. The challenger stops, his breathing heavy but controlled. He looks at me, his eyes cold and calculating behind the mask.
"You've lost" he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, the Branwen clan is mine."
Around me, the clan members cheer loudly. Shouts of 'The strong prevail!' and 'The weak submit!' echo through the camp. Every word is a knife to my pride. My breathing is heavy, my body aching, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the humiliation.
I try to stand, but my muscles fail as my ribs scream in pain. The challenger, Jaune Arc, looms over me, his presence imposing. He says nothing, just watches me with those cold, calculating eyes. The tribe continues celebrating, oblivious to my suffering. They toast with their beer cans, laughing and applauding the new leader.
"And as my first command as leader," Jaune says, pausing to ensure everyone's attention, "Surrender to the Atlas forces around us."
The clan members, still in a festive mood, spit out their beer, their eyes widening as they see Atlas ships hovering around the camp. The laughter and applause cease, replaced by expressions of shock and fear. They turn, trying to understand what's happening, but it's already too late.
I laugh loudly, a bitter, guttural sound.
"This is what you fools deserve," my voice echoes through the camp, dripping with disdain. "Now the whole tribe will be arrested."
"Except you, little bird," Jaune says mockingly. "I have a special cage
for you."
[Blanche Arc]
I sigh, tired, looking at the map in front of me. The lines and markers spread across the table tell a story of strategy and planning… but also frustration.
"Everything was going so well until a few days ago," I muttered in frustration. "Where did he go?"
Team BLNC(Blanche), composed of me, Lilas, Céruléenne, and Noir, was destroying White Fang terrorist cells with ruthless efficiency. Every mission was executed with precision, every target eliminated without hesitation.
[Image]
Even Adam Taurus, who could pose a threat to me alone, became a minor nuisance when we attacked him as a team.
Whenever we attacked a base with Adam, we let him escape after defeating him in combat, leaving him to stew in hatred and humiliation. The last one was the worst for the bull Faunus, especially since Lilas cut off his arm using her Semblance.
A melancholic pride fills me as I recall the incident. Slowly, I turn to the youngest member of the Arc family, who was sitting in the shade of a tree sharpening her longsword.
'At just thirteen, she's already dismembered one of Vale's most dangerous criminals,' I thought silently. 'This girl is going to be a monster.'
Turning back to the map, I'm reminded of my frustration. Injured and missing an arm, Adam should have been easy to track to his new hideout. But no… the terrorist simply vanished.
"Could someone be helping him?" I whisper, trying to find an answer, but my thoughts are interrupted by a familiar shout.
"LOOK AT THIS BULLSHIT!" Noir yells, entering the camp, waving a newspaper in her hand.
Céruléenne or Ce, as she prefers to be called, glances over disinterestedly from where she's sitting. The Huntress with a blond mohawk is busy making Dust arrows, not that Ce ever pays attention to the rest of the team when she's not in active combat.
I sigh, tired, and approach Noir. Her face is red with anger as she shakes a crumpled newspaper in her hands. I take the paper, trying to understand what has made her so worked up.
"What is it now, Noir?" I ask, looking at the headline.
Ce, sitting nearby, scoffs without looking up from her arrows.
"Probably too many big words in the headline. That's why she's frustrated."
Noir huffs, crossing her arms.
"Shut up, Ce," my twin grumbles. "It's the front-page news. Read this crap."
I look at the headline and read aloud:
"Faunaria: The Faunus Nation in Menagerie Founded with Atlas Support." I say, impressed by the news. "I know our father won't like this, but I didn't think you'd have such strong negative feelings on his level."
"Keep reading," Noir says, poking the first line of the article.
I find her behavior odd but resolve to indulge her.
"The leadership of Faunaria and Atlas attributes the success of the Faunus nation's founding to a young Huntsman-in-training known as… " My voice falters, the newspaper trembling in my hands. "Jaune Arc!"
Noir, still with her arms crossed, lets out a disdainful grunt. Ce, finally interested, drops her arrows and approaches, eyes wide. Lilas turns toward us but doesn't get up or put down her sword.
"Jaune?" Ce asks, incredulous. "Our Jaune?"
"Seems like it," I reply, still stunned, looking at the official photo of Jaune standing among faunus politicians and Atlas military officials. "How did he do this? He's the weakest Arc."
Noir huffs again, her face twisted in anger.
"This is ridiculous!" Complayins Noir. "He couldn't have done this without dad or at least us. Someone must be behind it."
From a distance, Lilas raises her hand to get our attention.
"What's the problem?" our youngest sister asks.
Ce, Noir, and I are caught off guard by the question, staring at Lilas in silence.
"According to what you said, he did nothing wrong and brought prestige to the Arc name by participating in a major event like the founding of a nation," Lilas says, standing and walking toward us. "Céruléenne is just surprised, which is a normal reaction , but you and Noir are frustrated, maybe even angry. Why?"
I take a step back, confused…
'She's right,' I think silently. 'Why I have these feelings of disgust inside me?'
Noir, on the other hand, without thinking, just shouts in response:
"Jaune has obligations to the Arc clan! He can't just waste time and risk himself with nonsense! He needs to come home and fulfill his duties!"
Lilas blinks, surprised by Noir's outburst, but simply turns to sit back down and continue sharpening her sword.
Frustrated, Noir huffs through her nose, her face red with anger, and turns to Céruléenne, demanding:
"Don't you get it, Ce? Jaune is meddling in things he shouldn't. He has responsibilities to the family, to the Arc clan. He can't just go around playing hero!"
Céruléenne shrugs, returning her attention to her arrows.
"Honestly, Noir, I only care about the money I'll get from this mission and the vacation I'll take with my husband. Jaune can live his own life for all I care."
Noir's rant fades into the background as I try to understand this strange anguish inside me, this alien feeling forcing me to feel in a certain way at Jaunes actions.
"Did our father use his 'Voice' on me?" I murmur, fearing the answer might be yes.
[Jaune Arc]
My plan to distract the bandits while the Atlas military surrounded them was a success. I can't wait to rub my success in Amber's face. Still can't believe she called my idea of putting on a WWE-style show with beer. 'the dumbest and unnecessary thing she's ever heard'.
"If I'd had more time, I would've had bikini girls serving food," I say happily to myself, arms crossed. "Even Ilia would've been distracted."
I remain wearing my armor and helmet. Church said it would make the Atlas officers treat me with more respect. I observe the camp from the highest point where Raven's tent was, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and purple as Atlas ships fill with captured bandits.
"Colonel Trautman!" shouts a short elderly woman in my direction, saluting. "I bring news."
I turn toward the soldier and nod, allowing her to approach. In response, the woman frowns slightly irritated, her brown eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes me from head to toe.
"You're not a fan of military etiquette, Colonel?" Caroline Cordovin asks as she approaches.
I shrug and reply without turning:
"Direct any complaints you have to the General's desk, or shove it up your ass."
She raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue.
'Thank God I had Church talk to Ironwood about this plan,' I think, relieved. 'The colonel title might be temporary, but it's useful for avoiding headaches.'
Caroline steps closer, the sound of her heavy boots against the sandy ground. She stops beside me, shoulders squared, posture rigid.
"All captured members will be taken for proper processing, sir."
I nod, keeping my gaze fixed on the horizon. The wind blows, kicking up dust and making the Atlas flag ripple in the distance.
"Raven Branwen is secured in the special cell on the Black Bird, as per your instructions, along with her bounty."
"And the other target?"
Cordovin hesitates for a moment before continuing, but quickly breaks into a sadistic smile:
"Unfortunately, restraints were necessary," Cordovin says, failing to hide her delight at the news. "She is currently in the custody of your agents."
"Good," I reply, walking past her. "You're dismissed, Cordovin."
Before I can get further away, Cordovin calls out to me.
"Colonel Trautman!" Her voice echoes, firm and authoritative.
I stop, turning slowly. Cordovin stands tall, posture straight, gaze fixed on me.
"Sir, I would like to remind you that it was thanks to my masterful coordination skills that Raven Branwen's capture was possible. Therefore, I expect a recommendation letter to General Ironwood acknowledging my contribution."
I sigh tiredly and turn to face the annoying dwarf.
{{Take it easy on her,}} Church says through my implants. {{She's a pain, but she did help a lot with logistics.}}
'The last thing I need right now is a dwarf desperate for attention,' I think, taking a deep breath to stay calm.
"Listen here, Cordovin," I say, my voice harsher than intended. "I'll put in a good word for you with Ironwood…personally." The little woman smiles at that. "But only if you shut up and never speak to me again."
Cordovin opens her mouth to respond but thinks better of it. Her eyes flash with a mix of surprise and irritation, but she nods reluctantly.
"Great." I turn my back and continue walking, leaving her behind.
As I walk through the camp, Atlas soldiers salute me. It's something I don't plan to get used to, as this "Colonel" persona is only useful for this kind mission.
Approaching the Black Bird, the sounds of the camp begin to mix with a familiar but irritated voice. I pause, listening carefully. It's an elderly woman, and she's clearly furious.
"This is outrageous! Release me at once, you good-for-nothing hussies!" Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding.
I sigh, already imagining what awaits me. I open the ship's door and step inside, the interior is a stark contrast to the dry heat outside.
"I demand to speak to whoever's in charge!" The voice repeats, louder and angrier. "We are in the middle of the mountains in winter, why does a military ship have women in bikinis?What kind of operation is this? Operation Slut Storm?"
I approach the elderly woman strapped to the chair and remove my helmet.
"Maria Calavera." The old woman stops struggling and complaining when she hears her name. "I'm here to recruit you for a special mission."
"Ha!" The old woman laughs, her tone dripping with irony and disdain. "I'm too old for the draft, blondie. Heck, I was too old for it before you were even born."
"You will be training a young warrior with silver eyes."
The old woman stops squirming immediately.
"Take me to her."