828Hi, there. The following story is part of an ongoing effort to rewrite the original series of RWBY into a more adult-oriented AU. Our primary goal in writing this is to transform the World of Remnant into the dark fairy tale that we always felt it could be while trying to maintain as much of the original story structure as we can. This is an alternate retelling of the story of RWBY, and so while you may see all the familiar pieces, they may not play all the same roles you expect them to. Also, when we say that this story is dark, we do very much mean that. This story contains a lot of disturbing story elements, and it contains content that can be uncomfortable and unpleasant to read. The first half of the story seems to be considered by readers the lighter half, so more disclaimers may come up in the story later.
To more accurately reflect the feeling of viewing an anime/manga/television show, we've divided the story into multiple different arcs. If you're a new reader, we would always recommend starting from the beginning, but if you're returning and you want to get to any of the story arcs in particular, you can skip to the desired arcs as followed:
The Inauguration: Chapters 1-14
The Final Test: Chapters 15-20
The Stolen Book: Chapters 25-32
The Long Weekend: Chapters 35-52
The God's Arm: Chapters 57-68;70
The Broken Team: Chapters 72-83
The End Part 1: Chapters 84-100
The End Part 2: Chapters 101-120
There are also additional side arcs that take place between the major storylines and usually have a lighter tone than the rest of the narrative. This story covers the events of Volume I, though it does notably divert in many places. As such, this page will be continually updated with more information as the story continues into the distant future. If you like the story, please consider following us, and always tell us what you think down below. Your feedback is an incredibly helpful tool to make the story better. Please also feel free to be as critical as you like. We are always open to improvement, even if we are not as good as we'd like to be. This is just a fanfiction, and our views upon our own writing have changed drastically over the years. As such, some of the notes in other points of the story may not be representative of our current views. Thank you, and enjoy.
Furthermore, it is our policy that we offer spoilers to people who want to know them. If the story ever gets too much for you but you still want to know what happens, send us a private message and we will be happy to share spoilers so you don't have to read what you don't want to. We'd rather make sure everyone is happy, as long as you promise not to post spoilers in the comments where others who don't want them could see them. Thank you, and enjoy.
In the Beginning, there was Light, and through the birth of the Soul, Humanity was born. Beings of Love and Energy, they spread throughout the land, using their intellect to craft vast societies and create tools to survive the harsh wilderness. Their numbers swelled, and for hundreds of years, they ruled over Remnant with Peace and Tranquility.
But then, there was Darkness, and with Darkness came the Grimm.
Creatures born without Souls, the Grimm lived with but a single purpose: to Consume the essence of every living creature in the World of Remnant. Driven by Fear and Anger, the Grimm hunted down Humanity and slaughtered them by the thousands, consuming their Souls and with it, their very Essence. Their darkness grew across the land, and with it, so did their power. In time, the whole world was covered in Shadow, save for a few precious patches of civilization, struggling to maintain their glow in the dimming Light. For a moment, the World seemed Lost.
However, from the greatest darkness came a Spark of Hope. A single human, full of Courage, was able to harness the power of their Soul, and push back against the Grimm. This human became known as the first Huntsman. Using the Light within, the Huntsmen fought against the tide of Grimm, forcing them back into the Darkness. Humanity began to recover, and over time, they reclaimed Remnant in the name of the Light. In the Event that the Grimm ever returned, Humanity elected the Huntsmen to serve as their Guardians, Defenders of the Light—
"And coolest people in the whole world!" Ruby shouted, jumping up and down on her bed. Summer pursed her lips.
"Ruby. No jumping."
The toddler groaned, and grudgingly shifted back under the covers. "Fine, mom."
"Good," her mother said with a pleased nod. "Now, where was I?"
"Defenders of the Light," Ruby squeaked.
"Ah, yes," said Summer, clearing her throat. "Guardians, Defenders of the Light, Protectors of Remna—"
Ruby's hand shot into the air, and Summer paused, staring at the child with an amused smirk.
"Yes, Ruby?"
"Did the Huntsmen use Dust to fight off the Grimm?"
"No, I don't believe so," Summer stated. "Dust was only discovered and refined a few hundred years ago. They did not have it back when this story takes place. The Huntsmen used the powers of their Souls."
"The power of their Souls?"
"Yes. The Soul is a very powerful source of energy that rests inside every Human being, and with proper training, you can learn to use your Soul in a whole bunch of different ways. You can use it to generate Aura, which is a bit like a shield, or use it to give you more strength, or use it as a Semblance."
"Coooooool," Ruby moaned with delight. "And how does all that work?"
"That's a bit more complicated," Summer explained. "Maybe we'll talk about that when you're older."
"If you're a Huntress, does that mean you can do all that stuff?"
"Yes, it does."
"And can dad do all that stuff, too?"
Yes, he can."
"And does that mean—"
By this point, Yang, who was trying her best to shove her head into a pillow and sleep, had grown completely tired of the current conversation, and decided to voice her opinion on the matter.
"Ruby, you ask the same questions every night," shouted the six-year-old. "I'm trying to go to sleep."
"Oh, Yang, you don't like my bedtime story?" asked Summer.
"I like the story," said Yang, "but Ruby has made you tell it for the past two weeks. I'm really tired, and I have school in the morning, so I want to go to bed now so I wake up early."
"Sweetie, we both know you aren't waking up early tomorrow," Summer said slyly. Ruby crossed her arms, and pouted.
"I bet Yang's just scared that a Grimm is going to come in the middle of the night and gobble her up!"
"Grimm aren't real, Ruby," Yang groaned. "Everyone knows that. It's just a fairy tale. And Huntsmen weren't even formed like that—Dad told me they were made by the Kingdoms to fight other Kingdoms, not monsters. Stop acting like a kid."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
"Hey, both of you, watch it," Summer commanded with sudden force, and the room became still. The children whimpered in their beds, and their mother relaxed her tone, though her smile did not return.
"Well, it seems like your father and I are going to have a very long talk tomorrow about stifling your imagination," Summer scoffed. She leaned in close to Ruby's ear, and whispered, "Don't you listen to her, Ruby. Huntsmen and Huntresses can be whatever you want them to be. People are always going to try to bring you down, but that's because their Souls aren't bright enough. One day, you're going to outshine them all. You got that?"
"Yep," Ruby nodded enthusiastically. "When I grow up, I'm going to become the greatest Huntress in the whole wide world, and I'm going to be the biggest hero, just like you."
Summer smirked. "That's my girl. Now, how about we do your sister a favor, and let her get some rest. I think she's feeling a little grumpy."
Ruby giggled. "Fine. Can we finish the story tomorrow?"
"Of course," Summer said with a smile. She leaned in and gave Ruby a big kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, Ruby. Yang, do you want a kiss, too? Or is that too kiddy for you?"
Yang grumbled. "I want a kiss…"
Summer, ever the angel, obliged, moving swiftly to Yang's bedside and giving her a kiss in equal measure. With a final goodnight, she moved to the doorway, shut off the light, and moved quietly down the hall. Yang mumbled some more, and proceeded to shove her face further into the pillow, but Ruby stayed wide awake, staring blankly at the ceiling. Huntress Ruby Rose. She liked the sound of that. She could not wait to grow up and become the hero from her story books, and she especially could not wait for her mother to finish the fairy tale, so she could continue her wondrous fantasy.
Unfortunately, Summer Rose was never able to finish the story, and Ruby never spoke to her mother again. The very next morning, before the children woke, Summer would leave for a routine assignment, during which she would be arrested on the foreign continent of Solitus for committing acts of terror against the Kingdom of Atlas. Two weeks later, she would be publicly executed by the Atlas military for her crimes, an event which would be witnessed on state-sponsored television.
Ruby would accidentally watch. The color of her mother's blood would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life.
Eleven Years Later
In hindsight, walking down a dark alleyway in the middle of the night was not the best idea Ruby Rose ever had. Granted, she had come up with many worse ideas before, but as the dim light of the shattered moon guided her through the city, she began to list off in her head the many reasons why she believed she made a terrible decision.
Reason One: Cities were dangerous. That fact was becoming abundantly clear by the distant screams echoing off the skyscrapers, the discarded trash littering the floor, and the crude yet passionate graffiti art by her side of a Faunus hanging by its neck, with the ever so polite phrase, "Death to Beastlovers," written underneath it. One would think that the City of Vale—named after the Kingdom itself—would be one of the safer places to go to, but apparently, prestige did not come with hospitality. It was particularly worrisome for Ruby, who understood the precarity of her situation. If she was to see a pretty little redhead walking down a dark alleyway dressed in a black skirt, a long red cloak, and a pair of oval-shaped spectacles, carrying a black briefcase by her side that was half her size, she would probably think that person would be a very easy target for robbery, or murder, or perhaps even a murder-robbery.
Reason Two: She was a long way from home. Patch seemed like a million miles away, and if Ruby was being truthful with herself, she had no idea where she was going. She had a destination in mind—the only Dust shop in Vale that was open past ten o'clock. Yet, no matter how many times she checked her Scroll, she was never sure if she was going in the right direction. Scrolls were very stupid. On top of that, she was worried if she was ever going to make it back to Patch when all was said and done. She already had to bribe a ship captain to even get off the island, and she wasn't entirely sure when he was coming back, if he came back at all. It was very possible she would be trapped in City of Vale forever, until someone came to rescue her, which brought her to Reason Three of why she made a terrible decision.
Reason Three: Nobody knew where she was. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Yang knew where she wasn't. Ruby had told her that she was sneaking out of her window, and that if their father asked where she was, Yang was supposed to cover for her. Still, Yang had no idea that she was miles away, sneaking through the city when she should have been studying for the physics exam she had the next day. Not that she needed to study, of course. She knew the material like the back of her hand. But if her father found out that she wasn't studying, or that she was lying to him, or that she was in the city, or what she had inside the briefcase, he would probably kill her.
Reason Four: Her father was going to kill her.
Ruby had many more reasons to think that coming to the city was a terrible idea, and her analytical mind was sure to list them all out in neat, alphabetical order to mull over for the remainder of her increasingly likely short lifespan. However, reality quickly saved her from her subconscious, as she cleared the alleyway and noticed her destination directly in front of her. From Dust Till Dawn. Cute name. Desperate to get out of the openness, she scurried across the road and into the brightly lit shop, throwing back her hood once she shut the door behind her.
The old man behind the counter noticed her enter, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he stopped his cleaning. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi," Ruby said nervously. "You are still open for business, right?"
"Yes, for the next hour."
"Okay."
The two stood in silence for a long moment.
"Is there… something you need help with?"
"Oh, right," Ruby said, startled. She nervously adjusted her glasses, and walked to the countertop. With a grunt, she heaved the massive briefcase onto the countertop, and spun it around so the shopkeeper could see, opening up the three latches on its side. "So, I was sort of wondering if you could tell me which types of Dust would go best with this…"
She opened the case, and at once, the shopkeeper's eyes popped.
"My, my… this is quite the model," he commented. "Where did you purchase this?"
"I built it. In my basement," Ruby sheepishly explained.
"Well, the craftsmanship is marvelous," he stated, amazed. "I've only seen one or two models similar to this, but never with such proper conditioning. You should be quite proud of yourself. How old are you, child?"
"Fifteen."
"Really? And where are you from"
"Um, Patch."
"Ah, that explains it. You must be a student at Signal Academy."
"Actually, no," Ruby said casually. "I mean, my Dad teaches there, and my sister just graduated from there, but I go to Southtown High."
"Southtown High?" the shopkeeper questioned. "I've never heard of that Huntsmen Academy."
"Well, they don't teach Huntsmen stuff there," Ruby sighed. "They teach… you know… math, and science, and stuff."
"Hmm," the shopkeeper moaned. He looked back-and-forth between the brilliant technology on the table, and the strange little girl who had walked into his shop just moments before, and after passing his glance between the two of them, he eventually nodded, and gestured to the wide variety of crystals beneath the counter. "Well, normally I would refuse to sell Dust to a minor, but if you really built this like you said you did, I think you'd be able to handle it. As long as you have the money to pay, I'd be willing to part with whatever you want. And I do mean your money, and not your father's."
"Don't worry, I'm covered," Ruby beamed, rummaging through her pockets for the money she kept stowed away. "I took out a loan from the Bank of Patch the other day. They gave me a discount, too: twenty-three percent interest."
"I see. Why don't you take this case, and I'll see what I can find for you?"
"Thank you very much," Ruby said gleefully, hurriedly snapping shut her case. As the shopkeeper went into the back room, Ruby's eyes drifted around the room. It was a very nice store. She assumed as such, given that she had never set foot in a Dust shop before, but that did not dampen its beauty. She was most impressed by the variety of Dust available. She did not even know that the ancient material came in so many variants, shapes, and sizes. There were dazzling fire crystals lined beneath the countertop in glass casings, and row after row of Dust powder, each ready to be dispensed like delicious, extremely volatile candies. And, best of all, in the far back corner of the shop, buried behind shelves of Dust so that almost nobody could spot them, were loads of instructional magazines.
Instinctually drawn to the need to learn, Ruby lugged her case over to the back corner, placed it gently on the ground, and took a seat on top of it while she perused the available reading material. She eventually settled on a small pamphlet helpfully titled, "Guns and Dust: How to Make Your Weapons Spark!" Encouraged by the snappy headline, Ruby opened the pamphlet, and was immediately disappointed by an assortment of facts she was already very familiar with.
Dust is an extremely dangerous material, and should only be used by trained professionals… Dust can be mined in twelve separate pure crystal forms... For use in ranged weaponry, two types of ammunition can be chosen: bullets and blasters… Bullets are small pieces of metal that are placed inside cartridges, which are special containers lined with explosive Dust to propel the metal forward when triggered… Blasters use the full force of the Dust's raw power… Most weaponry can fire guns, but only specially designed weapons can sustain the energy of firing a blaster… Blah blah blah… Blah blah blah-blah-blah.
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check again.
Ruby, with a bored sigh, shoved the pamphlet back into place, and searched for something else to read. Something new, preferably. She didn't skip study night so she could learn nothing, after all. It was as she was rummaging through the many other attention-grabbing pamphlets—of which her favorite was titled, "How Not to Kill Yourself"—that she heard the sound of the door to the shop opening wide, and the hard tide of numerous turned towards the entrance, and studied the five men who had suddenly entered the store in the dead of night. It didn't take long for her to notice that something was off about them. It was the way they dressed, four of them in tight, black suits and dark sunglasses, despite the fact there was clearly no sun. If that wasn't suspicious enough, there was the manner in which their leader dressed—clad in white, with a bowler's hat, chomping on a thick cigar, letting the smoke rise through his crooked smile and bright orange hair. His face almost looked familiar, but Ruby couldn't quite put her finger on where she had seen him. Was it on a television? Was he an actor? No, that didn't seem right. Maybe she saw him on a poster? A wanted poster? A mugshot?
Oh, Ruby realized. That was Roman Torchwick. Shit.
Before Ruby even had a chance to panic, Roman lifted up his cane, and brought it down hard against the countertop, destroying it with a damning crack. Ruby recoiled, but the infamous outlaw merely smiled, taking another puff on his cigar.
"Helloooooo?" he called out in a sing-song voice. "Anybody back there? We'd like to make a purchase." When a few seconds passed, and no response came, Roman turned to one of his henchmen, and gestured with his head. "Go get him."
The henchman nodded, jumping over the broken counter and storming into the back room. Ruby, mostly out of sight in the far corner, heard a battered cry, and a moment later the man returned, dragging the shopkeeper behind him and throwing him at the feet of his boss. Roman, still smirking, tossed the cigar into the shopkeeper's face with a disinterested flick of the wrist. They hadn't noticed her.
"Well, hello there, sir," Roman said mockingly. "I was wondering if you would like to sell me some of your fine product today?"
"Please… don't kill me," begged the shopkeeper.
He wasn't going to kill the shopkeeper. Ruby knew that for certain. As she scoured the depths of her mind for details on Torchwick, a few select crimes immediately bubbled to the surface. Robbery. Fraud. Arson. Destruction of property. Occasional battery. But murder? It wasn't in his repertoire. He liked to keep those he attacked alive, so they could tell stories about his charm, and his cruelty. He had an ego that constantly needed to be satisfied, and though he would steal and destroy as much as possible to project his own strength, he would never do something to ruin his classy image. He was there for a robbery, nothing more. Ruby tucked that information away for later, just in case things got ugly.
Roman continued to chit-chat with the shopkeeper, but Ruby had stopped paying any attention to their dialogue, as her focus shifted to what was in his hands. She picked up what information she could from behind her cover. The cane: metallic, thick on the bottom, finely crafted. Too finely crafted to be a standard model. It had to be specially made just for him. He clearly didn't need it to help him walk, so two options: he used it to complete his fashion ensemble, or it was a weapon. But what kind of weapon? The thickened end would be perfect for bludgeoning and the handle could be used as a hook for defense, but it granted him a short reach and was ineffective. Perhaps there was a blade hidden between the handle and the base? No clear separation though, at least not that she could see. And a blade would be too risky if he wasn't looking to kill.
Her eyes focused in on his fingers. There was a small breaking point in the paint just beneath his grip. A trigger. Her eyes traced down the cane to its end. A latch on the bottom. It was a gun. No, not a gun; a cannon. The shape of the cane didn't leave much room for mechanics, so it must have been a simple cannon. He would pour Dust in through the opening, where it would rest safely in the metal shielding until he pulled the trigger, striking the primer buried beneath the bend of the hook and launching the exploding Dust out the other end. It would be a last-ditch effort to escape capture; the Dust couldn't be launched with enough force to cause any lethal damage, and it would be nearly impossible to reload. If he missed his shot, he would be nearly defenseless.
Ruby's eyes darted to the other men, and she studied their attire and their weaknesses. Sunglasses: somewhat useful in the bright shop, but made things more infinitely difficult to see in the dark outside light. Black button-down shirts with red ties. Choking hazard. Difficult to move the shoulders. Black dress pants: again, no flexibility in the legs. Dress shoes. Slippery soles. Didn't add any height advantage. Probably wouldn't get hurt too badly if she was kicked by them. The outfit was for intimidation purposes only; nothing they wore would prepare them for an actual fight. The only weapons in sight were visible hanging from their belts. Pistols, specifically Vale 22-Commondor Pistols. Fired bullets. Eight shots. No visible extra cartridges on any of their bodies. If they were planning on getting into a firefight, they weren't planning on getting out. More likely, they were part of the gimmick, meant purely for show. There was roughly a two-thirds chance they weren't even loaded.
Ruby quickly glanced at the door. She had no idea if the noise from the break-in had attracted any attention, or if the police had been called. For all she knew, no help was coming for her. It was her and the shopkeeper against an army of five. An army of five drastically underprepared for an actual fight. She looked down at her briefcase, and quickly ran the numbers in her head. Ten percent chance she escaped and contacted the police in time. Fifteen percent chance the police arrived at the scene too late to stop Roman. Twenty-five percent chance the police showed up anyway and arrested them both for disrupting the neighborhood. Ten percent chance she died because she vastly overestimated her abilities. Another ten percent chance that Roman just kicked her ass. And about a twenty percent chance she actually managed to be a hero and stop the bad guy.
One out of five odds. One untrained girl vs five dangerous criminals. She liked those odds.
"Hey! Store's closed, you big jerks!"
Instantly, she got the attention she was looking for. Roman, who was gripping he shopkeeper by the throat, dropped his victim and spun on his heels to face Ruby as she slowly emerged from the back, carrying her briefcase by her side.
"Well, what do we have here?" Roman cooed. "Are you lost, little girl? This city's no place for someone like you."
"You five are going to leave, right now," Ruby demanded, unfazed, "or you're going to get hurt."
"Wow," Roman said, feigning enthusiasm. "Little Red is going to hurt us, boys. Do you, by any chance, have the slightest clue I am?"
"Yeah, an idiot with a terrible fashion sense," Ruby replied casually. Roman's smirk vanished.
"Oh, you think you're smart, don't you?"
"If you want, I could also insult your terrible haircut."
Roman shifted his posture, and tightened his grip on his cane. He was getting annoyed. Good.
"Look, kid," Roman muttered, "You really do not want to do this."
"I don't. You can leave now, and this will all be over."
"Right. Dom, take care of her," Roman grunted dismissively. One of the henchmen nodded, and without hesitation, approached the young girl in far over her head. As he moved closer, he drew a gun, and as she stood in defiance, trying her hardest to keep all of her insecurities from showing. She couldn't afford to show how much she was starting to regret her decision, which was only made harder when the henchman pulled out the pistol, and pressed the barrel directly against her forehead.
"You know, my mother taught me never to hit three things: a woman, a child, and someone wearing glasses. So, out of courtesy, I'm going to give you one chance to walk out of here. You got to the count of three. One…"
Ruby held her ground. Despite her instincts telling her to strike, she did not move a muscle. Maybe it was the sudden shock of having a gun placed to her head, but she didn't feel like she was actually about to die. If she was really in danger, she would have felt it, but instead, she was perfectly calm.
"Two…"
Or maybe that meant nothing. Maybe she was absolutely about to die, and the fear had overtaken her so that she couldn't react anymore. Maybe she was in shock. She would be killed right then and there and no one would ever know about it. She could already picture her gravestone: "RIP Ruby Rose: Died because she was too stubborn to move when held at gunpoint."
"Three…"
The henchman placed his finger on the trigger. He was shaking. She blinked. That gun was loaded.
"I'm not messing around here!"
Nope, that gun was totally empty.
Without a moment's delay, Ruby swung her leg back, and delivered a furious kick between the henchman's legs. He let out a pained cry, and fell to his knees, clutching his wounded parts. He gaped up at her in shock, only for Ruby to grab her briefcase with both hands and swing it as hard as she could, striking him in the head and knocking him out cold. Roman watched him fall with shock, before locking his eyes on the pretty little redhead who just took out one of his best enforcers.
He sneered. "Okay. So that's the way you want to play it."
With a tilt of his cap, his henchmen charged. Ruby hurriedly unlocked the latches on her briefcase, just as the first of the men took a wild swing at her head. Maintaining her cool, she weaved back to avoid the blow, while letting the goon get in close. Then, before he could recover, she swung the briefcase up into his jaw, sending him flying backward as the momentum of the swing forced the case open. From its leathery interior dropped a metallic red mass, its electrical components condensed into a solid block. Letting the heavy case carry her around, she gathered her energy, and just before it touched the ground, she struck. With a furious yell, she released her case and delivered a forceful wheel kick to the solid metal, sending them both flying. They connected with their targets, knocking both men off their feet. The case soared through the air, but the metal bounced back to Ruby, who snatched it effortlessly out of the air.
Four down. One to go. Roman growled, and took aim with his cane, but Ruby was one step ahead. She channeled her energy into a single point, remembering all the times she practiced in the woods behind her house. All of the successes, all of the failures. She concentrated, and with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she burst through the front window with a massive red flash, leaving nothing but rose petals behind.
She recovered out on the street as Roman hurried after her. He already lost his range advantage, and all that was left to do was make sure he lost his only shot as well. He followed her through the broken window, and she made sure that she wouldn't be there to take the hit. She dashed to the opposite side of the street, and then back again, crisscrossing the road as many times as she could muster. Roman tried to take aim with the end of his cane, but couldn't risk the shot.
"Dammit, stop moving!" he shouted. "This isn't how this is supposed to go!"
He was right. It wasn't how his night was planned out. He was probably going to make off with the Dust, and continue his crime spree around the entire Kingdom. The authorities would chase him to no avail, and he would sell his Dust to whatever nefarious creatures were willing to pay for it. If he wasn't stopped, there was a good chance a lot of pieces would get set in motion, and people would get hurt. But Ruby refused to let that happen. She was going to be a hero. Just for once.
With another burst of energy, Ruby sprang into the air. Her shadow consumed the sky as she remained suspended in the air, just for an instant before plummeting towards Roman. She threw her arm back, and with a lick, the metal in her hand transformed and took shape. Mechanics clanked and sprung outwards, twisting themselves until they bent and reached a fine point, sharper than any sword. Steam ruptured from its gears as it fixed itself in place, and Ruby grinned as she felt the weapon's weight shift in her hand. Her hood fell in front of her face, but her eyes remained locked on her target as she readied her blade to strike. Roman looked up at her and in a panic, he fired out his only shot: a single fireball aimed directly towards her.
Ruby was waiting. With another burst, she shot herself straight downwards, cutting off her forward momentum. The fireball sailed over her head as she crashed into the pavement, cracking the earth beneath her feet. With a determined scream, she charged forward at blistering speed, and with a bloody flash of rose petals, swiped her blade clean through Roman's arm.
The cane fell first, followed by the flesh itself, and then came the blood. Roman collapsed in shock, falling to his knees, grasping at the piece of him that was no longer there. Ruby took a deep breath, collecting herself after what she had just done. It was the first time she had ever used Crescent Rose against another person before. It felt like such.
"You… you bitch," Roman stuttered through gritted teeth. "You'll pay for this… I have friends… powerful friends who will hunt you down…"
"I don't think so," Ruby said calmly. "I think you're finished hurting people." Her eyes were drawn to his wound, but she forced herself to look away. She didn't do too well with blood. She was fine with violence and weaponry, but seeing the blood up close, smelling it, made it feel a little bit too real for her.
She tried to focus on the good things. She looked back into the shop through the shattered window. The shopkeeper slowly rose to his feet, checking the damage to his store. He would be okay. The store would be okay. The Dust would be okay. Those were the positives; those were what made it worth it. It wasn't something she would ever experience again. Her path in life made sure of that. But for a single night, for a single store, she made a difference. She got to be a hero. Just like the fairy tales. Ruby supposed that would be good enough, because even though the moment was brief, it would forever be her moment, and nothing could take it away from her.
"Freeze! Put the scythe down and put your hands in the air!"
And it was at that moment that Ruby realized three police cars had pulled up to the shop, and several freaked out cops were standing behind open car doors, pointing their weapons at her—the woman who just cut a man's arm off in front of buildings with a whole lot of witnesses. Ruby, expressionless, dropped the weapon, where it hit the floor with a loud clang, and she threw her hands into the air as fast as she could.
Okay. Moment ruined. Her dad was definitely going to kill her.