'Thoughts'
"Talking"
[ Sytem Prompt
A/N: Damn. I read the RWBY SI Fic in the popularity rankings. I feel like I'm writing shit now ;^;.
I rewrote this chap. In the future I'm gonna use grammarly or any AI software in order to proofread my chapters.
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The broken moon cast jagged shadows across Vale's docks, its pale light barely piercing the thick clouds. The abandoned warehouse at the far end stood silent—until the night exploded.
BANG! BOOM!
"I understand I came uninvited," Altair shouted, ducking behind crates as bullets whizzed past, "but why attack without provocation?!"
Roman Torchwick twirled his cane. "Ask my unconscious friend outside why indeed!"
"He was already like that when I arrived!"
Altair cursed his luck. Just as he got in, he was already discovered. Couldn't Roman have gotten there sooner, or better yet later, just in time for him to get everything set up? Now he's in this mess, with a bullet coming for his behind.
He ran fast, his White Fang disguise clinging to him, sweat soaking through the thick fabric as he dodged and took cover behind a crate.
"You should surrender," Roman called, signaling his men to flank. "We could discuss this like civilized people—"
'He's weaker than me—why am I running in the first place? You know—'
"Killing you would be easier."
The temperature seemed to drop. A suffocating pressure filled the warehouse, freezing the White Fang grunts mid-step. Even Roman's smirk faltered as an unnatural dread gripped them all.
Usually, Roman would retort with a witty comeback, but this time it was silent. Confusion appeared on Altair's face before a status window appeared in front of him.
[Bloodlust Acquired from: Taro Sakamoto Template]
[Fool's Warning
- Release cold concentrated bloodlust at will, affecting all enemies with the [Fear] debuff.
- All enemies still willing to fight get a 20% stat decrease.]
[Multi-Tool Reacting...]
[New Trait Acquired: Multi-Tool (Fool)
- Agility stat increase upgraded by 5%.]
Altair's eyes widened in surprise—two traits from just a small remark. He should come up with nonsense way more often.
"Just shoot him already!"
Gunfire erupted. Altair launched himself upward, boots scraping against metal beams as he returned fire with [ Minerva ]. Each shot shattered another overhead light, plunging sections of the warehouse into darkness.
The remaining White Fang members hesitated, their weapons trembling. Altair vanished into the growing shadows, his bloodlust still clinging to the air like smoke. Though if one took a closer look, they'd realize they were faking their hesitation and fear. One could actually say that they were trembling with confidence.
"He's going for the lights! Stop him now!"
Roman realized what Altair was doing, but unlike his henchmen, he knew how to act. It would have fooled everyone, to be honest. Anyone but Altair at the moment.
'They look like amateurs at this.'
The Jester trait was a mix of Spy Arts and Assassination Arts, coming from Nagumo himself—an assassin so skilled with spying and disguises that he could disguise himself as someone's reflection perfectly. With this trait, it would've been dishonorable if Altair couldn't see through their act.
'They don't really understand why I'm doing this, huh.'
After shooting the last light, the warehouse grew dark, the only source of light being moonlight from a section of the warehouse's roof where a panel was missing. Even then, the light only made the darker parts of the warehouse even darker.
"Okay, now you've proven your point." Roman stepped into the moonlight, his hands raised in mock surrender. His goons searched the beams; with their night vision, they saw through the dark easily.
Whoosh!
A figure ran past a White Fang member holding a gunblade, startling him before he slashed behind, only to find nothing.
"Over here."
Altair's voice came from above, in one of the dark corners of the warehouse. The goons quickly opened fire, only for their bullets to hit the cold steel of [ Grand Cross ]. The gigantic shield hid Altair's figure, though it couldn't muffle his voice.
"Come dawn, bless us with your gaze, bathe us in your light, guide us through our path—"
Humans have about 129 million cone-shaped photoreceptors, which are great for viewing visible light and provide detailed vision, but are terrible at capturing scattered light.
"—Shine upon the fields, signal the day's beginning—"
Animals, however, have rod-shaped photoreceptors, which are the opposite of human photoreceptors. These rods are so sensitive to light that they react to a single photon like a bigot blurting a slur where they shouldn't—which is to say, aggressively.
Now, why am I telling you this? Faunus are half-animal or have physiology very similar to animals. This is why Faunus have night vision. And because Faunus see in full detail like humans, they must also have cone photoreceptors. These two types of photoreceptors can't be used simultaneously, so Faunus must switch between them. There must be a delay when switching, even if done subconsciously.
"—For all ways lead to the promised land."
Now, what happens when a Faunus, currently using their rod photoreceptors, suddenly gets hit with a magical flashbang?
[Divine Voice Activated:
Buff Provided:
The Sun's Radiance
- Shine for a single burst, with brightness equivalent to the sun's light.
- Removes any major debuffs currently affecting you.]
The entire warehouse was bathed in light as it burst from Altair's position. The shield fell as screams from the White Fang members reverberated throughout the room. They howled in pain, dropping to the floor, clutching their eyes shut. Roman was blinded before covering his face with his arms, grimacing from the intensity.
The light faded as suddenly as it appeared. The Faunus lay unconscious, passed out from the pain of having the sun's light, amplified a thousandfold, burning their retinas. Roman remained where he stood, still covering his face, but he recovered quickly, blinking rapidly to ease the stinging.
"Pick a number from one to six."
Roman immediately fired his cane toward the voice, launching several Dust-enhanced bullets. They rocketed toward the sound, but only hit the wall, triggering an explosion. His barrage continued until the empty clicks of his weapon signaled he was out of ammo.
"We'll let the dice decide then."
A die fell from the ceiling, landing where Roman stood. It bounced, bathed in moonlight, shimmering silver. With each bounce, the air grew heavier, and Roman's dread deepened as he waited for it to stop.
Then it stopped.
"You rolled a three. Unlucky."
The fear and frustration finally boiled over. Roman yelled and swung his cane wildly, not caring whether he hit anything.
"WHERE ARE YOU, BRAT?!"
A gentle tap sounded from his side, freezing him. Altair stood there, Multi-Tool in hand, its third function—a straight square blade with an indent near the top to double as a can opener—now propped up.
"Right beside you."
Roman collapsed. The cold steel blade was the last thing he felt.
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A/N : Yeah I wasn't able to upload the chapter yesterday sorry about that.
1,157 Words