Author notes: I know I got some reviews about me jumping around a lot. So in order to fix that, I did absolutely nothing about it. My bad I'm sorry This is sort of like a prologue exposition dump/ training montage if you will. Sorry for the late update too. I know I said 'a couple weeks' but finals were a lot harder than expected, so it took all of my time. Then I just got lazy and grinded games like Destiny.

Please review and point out any grammatical errors. I won't be hurt.

Edit: I forgot some small stuff and fixed some grammatical errors.


Jaune was tired. His legs were sore and his body ached. Fatigue controlled his body, clouded his mind. His clothes were damp and his skin was drenched in water. The texture of sand rubbed against his sand, the feeling being rough and uneven. Tides of water rushed over his feet and onto his body, then left as soon as they came. He could feel the warmth of his body leaving through the scalp of his shaven head. The sky was dark black, the stars gazing back at Jaune as he looked up. He rested his head back and drifted his eyes shut, hoping for a moment of rest, a moment of clarity to regain his senses.

Jaune's face was hosed with water colder than he ever experienced. "Arc!" a man in a tipped hat screamed at him, inches from his face. "Do you think this is Suzy's LaLa land you french frying fuck?!"

"No drill sergeant!" Jaune yelled with a raspy voice, his eyes flying open. Yelling. He had done so much recently. He had done so more in the past 6 months than he thought he had in the past 18 years of his life, most of it being 'Yes drill sergeant', or 'No drill sergeant'. 6 months, god had 6 months really passed? It was all a haze to him. He did his fair share of running, lifting, vomiting, and everything in between, but he could hardly remember many. The class started as a class of 200. The class was now down to 50. Many quit, not willing to stand up to the challenge. Jaune wouldn't let himself do that. He wanted to help the world, this was his straight line to do as such. Very few actually didn't meet the physical standards, hell the drill sergeants made sure as such. They were very sure to pick on Jaune. He looked scrawny coming in. 185 pounds on a 6'2 frame made the bones pop out more, and by the time Jaune had entered, they put him on a diet. God did he hate the diet. It was peanut butter based. He ate everything with peanut butter. It's not that he hated peanut butter, but rather he consumed so much in a short amount of time. However, he could not deny its effectiveness. In the 6 months, he managed to put on 70 pounds, now sitting at 255 pounds. His muscles were larger, so much so that he had trouble fitting into the clothes he had brought originally. He had also become significantly stronger and could run faster, for longer. He wondered what his family would think if they saw him.

No. He wouldn't think of them now. They didn't support his dream then and they sure as hell didn't support it now. If they found out what he was doing, it would be a fight he just doesn't want to fight again. He would tell them later, once he proved himself.

"Well Arc, then explain why you thought it would be a good idea to visit DREAMLAND" The drill sergeant yelled at him, snapping him back to reality.

"No excuses sir" Jaune replied, his facial expression neutral.

"Well since Mister Arc here thinks that what we're doing isn't physically tough enough, FLUTTER KICKS, SIX INCHES OFF THE GROUND". The drill sergeant yelled at the top of his lungs, walking down the line of trainees similar to him. The drill sergeant's boots were soaked in the beach's waters, his fatigues folded up onto his elbow. His skin had goosebumps from the near zero temperature, and the darkness of the early morning only contributed to the chill.

Jaune looked to his left.

No one groaned at Jaune's mishap. Hell, everyone was doing the same thing. It's just that the Drill Sergeants were looking for the tiniest reason to smoke them, and Jaune's head was on the chopping block.

"Come on shitbirds!" The drill sergeant yelled, pacing back and forth between the trainees. "I see you Oso! Don't think because you're big that means you can skip butterflies!"

Jaune's breathing was ragged. The tide had slightly increased and now the cold water was touching his chest while he was doing butterflies. His core burned, and he so desperately wanted to set his feet down, ring the bell, set his helmet down, and quit. But he kept on kicking.

"It seems like I made this too easy!" the drill sergeant yelled. "How about some liquid inspiration!"

On queue, another drill sergeant started hosing them down with water. The water from the hose was warmer, but it didn't help the fact that it came out at high pressure. When it hit Jaune, his face scrunched in reaction.

"Oh, what's that Arc? Don't like a little bit of water?" The drill sergeant focused the stream of water onto his face, spraying him with the lukewarm water. "If you don't like water, you sure as hell won't like the battlefield!"

The water moved away from Jaune, and onto the next person. Jaune coughed and spat out water from his mouth.

"Amigo, you good?" Jaune looked to his left.

"Yeah," Jaune coughed, "I'm solid. Just a little water". Jaune looked left to the voice, spotting Gonzales. He was a smaller guy, sitting at 5'5, 175 pounds. Jaune rattled his brain for more details, god it was hard for him to remember. He was sleep-deprived, hungry, and cold. Jaune paused and chuckled. He remembered Gonzales got the nickname cowboy. Dumbass showed up to basic in a cowboy hat, jeans, boots, and a flannel. Said something about it being the pride of Texas.

Jaune turned to his left, facing a man of Asian descent. "Hey Park" Jaune spoke. The Asian man turned right to face Jaune. His entire left side of his face had been full of a burn mark, his skin disfigured, yet functional. He still had perfect eyesight and hearing but lacked some hair. "You okay?"

"Yes," Parker responded promptly. Parker had always been a man of few words. He turned back to face upwards, Jaune doing the same. Jaune inhaled, screaming being heard in the background.

Jaune exhaled. His shins were sore and his feet were tired. The boots on his feet were a size too small. The sweat of fatigue forced the clothing to stick to his chest, giving his chest little room to rise and fall. Yet he trudged on. One foot after another, one breath at a time, he continued.

"Mile Ten" The drill sergeant chimed out in cadence.

"Let's do it again" everyone else huffed out.

The behemoth in front of Jaune started to slow down, his breath became more erratic. He was a good 3 inches taller than Jaune and weighed significantly more than Jaune, he guessed around 390 of pure muscle. His chest was heaving up and down. "Hey, Oso" Jaune's ragged breath got his attention. The bear ears on the top of his head twitched "You okay?".

Oso huffed "Da, I'm good. Just need to catch my breath". Oso kept his pace and inhaled as much air as he could to get his breathing back on track. Jaune smirked. A faunus of his size usually would struggle to run as far as they usually did, but Oso kept up. Oso was a tough son of a bitch coming straight from Siberia, just outside of Atlas. According to him, he lived in a small village that primarily hunted. He'd have to run miles to chase down a deer that made the unfortunate decision of living near the village. Jaune thought that they would've seen little success, but judging by the mass of Oso and how he kept up, he assumed otherwise. Jaune chuckled again. It was funny to him how Oso got that name. Was his name really Oso? Hell no. It was something like Dimitri Petrov, but on the first day, one of the recruits got spooked by his size and screamed "oso", and it just stuck. Jaune couldn't remember a time when he actually heard Oso's real name be said, even the drill sergeants called him Oso.

"Alright big fella" Jaune huffed out "We made it 10 miles, only a few more". Jaune had no idea if that statement had any validity to that statement. The DS's were weird like that. After the first few weeks, the majority of the candidates either quit or didn't qualify. This was another attempt at that. Some days they would run 3 miles, others they'd run upwards of 30. Why? Fuck you that's why. God, he was becoming jaded. Jaune's muscles below his ribs hurt. The DS's were keeping a fast pace. If Jaune had to guess, he'd say maybe a 6:30 pr 7-minute mile. Jaune turned around, seeing that most of the remaining candidates were behind him. The group had shortened massively to maybe around 20 or so candidates. Running was a hell of a way to get people to quiet, especially those who didn't really want to be there. They had been training for running since they entered. It started easy, with a slow pace and short runs, but had quickly progressed into longer runs at a faster pace and even longer. After 8 months of training, those who weren't able to keep up either had no willpower or didn't train enough to keep up. Jaune did both, and so did everyone else in that group. "I can't have you quitting on me now" Jaune huffed. "I need a fat guy to run slower than me so I can feel more confident" Jaune huffed out between breaths

"пошел на хуй" Oso exhaled, his breath back on pace with his run. "I can run perfectly fine. Faster than most"

"Not faster than me" Jaune chuckled, picking up his pace. "And don't go speaking that Russian around me mon ami (my friend). You know I don't understand".

Oso smirked "Don't speak your french around me". Oso picked up the pace in order to keep up with Jaune. Everyone behind them had noticed their change in pace, most groaning in response. The pace of the group increased, just short of a sprint. Most of the group blew past the drill sergeants, leaving them to eat dust and trail dirt. The DS tried to increase their pace but couldn't keep up for long, being outrun by the remaining class of 20.

Jaune was leading the group, shouting encouragement and banter at the rest of his candidates while running. Close behind him were Oso and Parker, with Oso towering over Parker. Right behind them was Gonzales, who was sucking wind. He looked a little bit yellow, close to vomiting. Every step he took was wobbly, and the cowboy held it in much to his credit. It wasn't easy running far and fast. The rest of the candidates were lumped into a group behind them, and behind them, the drill sergeants. Were they going to be smoked for disorderly conduct and outpacing them? Yeah, probably. Did they care at the moment? No. Okay maybe a little, but they did revel in their athletic accomplishment. The group kept on running at a fast pace, eventually lumping together. Jaune turned around, failing to spot the drill sergeants, and started to sing.

"When I go home" Jaune sang in a voice that was almost angelic. Everyone was astounded. This was the first time they heard Jaune's singing, and by god were they pleased. His voice was of a similar vein to those heard in a church choir. Hell, this man could be a one-man choir.

"When I go home" Everyone else ran out. The pace had slowed down, slow enough to where everyone could sing cadence to get their breath back on track.

"My buddys they will say," Jaune sang out. His breathing had slowed down along with his pace. The group's pace had also slowed down, reaching around a 10 minute pace. Were the drill sergeants going to catch up? Eventually, Jaune had willingly slowed down the pace for the larger, more muscular men in the group who had problems running, mainly Ekon. Ekon had been running at the back of the group, but he stood out. For one, his breathing was wild and erratic. He could keep pace but his breathing needed work. His size was something to be mentioned. He was a hair shorter than Oso at maybe 6'4, and only slightly smaller at 340lbs. The skin on Ekon was dark, darker than most, and his accent was thick. He lived in the Sahara near Vacou, in a small hunting village called the Congo. Similar to Oso, the village was primarily a hunting village, however the weather was polar opposites. The sun of Congo made it feel as if hell was on earth, whereas Siberia was frozen tundra that could make Atlas winters feel like cool breezes. Two extremes, probably not the best idea to live there. Ekon was in charge of moving heavy loads of crops and machines, such as tractors and wheelbarrows. He never really did talk about his family or what they did though. Thus, the need for him to run was never present, and by god did he feel it in the first few months. He constantly threw up mid run and was always given extra mandatory PT, much to his dismay. This didn't get to him though. He was always a hardworking guy with a hardy laugh. Jaune smirked at the thought of him. When he questioned Ekon on how he felt about running and extra PT, he simply laughed and responded "Ay mon, I feel like hippo learning to run. Is good for me!". Jaune didn't really understand what a hippo was, and the way Ekon described it was local wildlife that looks like a oversized dog. What Ekon said a lot never really made sense, but he made everyone laugh with his bright personality nonetheless. Jaune looked back at the group and saw Ekon. He was breathing erratically, but to his credit, did keep up with the group so far. Jaune chuckled and looked back forward, continuing the cadence song. Were they going to get smoked when they got back to base? Hell yeah they would, but that didn't stop Jaune and everyone else from running.


Jaune laid face first onto the ground, blood spewing out of his mouth and nose. He coughed and wheezed, his lungs begging for air. He rolled to his back and looked straight up, his vision blurry. Someone was yelling something at him, but he didn't hear. His ears were ringing and his head was spinning in circles. His body was cold and wet, mud sticking to it.

"Ja–" he heard a voice call out. "Jaune get up".

Jaune's eyes went wide, scrambling to his feet, narrowly dodging a kick to where his face was. Jaune's eyes quickly focused on his adversary. His opponent's face was covered in blood, bruises all over his face and arms, and a broken nose. Mud covered most of his skin, some of it covering his eyes. Jaune didn't feel too well himself. Jaune was bleeding out of his nose, and his vision was impaired out of his left eye. His leg felt shaky with his muscles being red and blue from being kicked. The mud clung onto his legs, making him feel heavy. Jaune focused on his opponent's shoulder line, watching for any movement. They both wore dark green skin-tight shirts and camo pants, black boots tightly laced. They circled each other, both in a haze. Jaune's ears ringed, his head hurt, his vision was blurry. His opponent wasn't any better. He staggered around, hobbling, barely holding his guard up. Both of their breathing was heavy and irregular. Jaune took a step in and threw a cross. His opponent slipped cross and threw a hook. Jaune blocked the hook, wrapped his arm around it and trapped the elbow. Jaune threw a low punch to his opponent's solar plexus, his opponent sucking wind. Jaune followed with a haymaker to his jaw, sending him flopping to the ground with mud flying everywhere. Jaune huffed, walking forward to finish the fight. Jaune got close ready to finish the fight, then he felt a pair of legs wrapping around his own. Jaune looked down and saw that his opponent had tangled their legs in his, one foot at Jaune's heel, the other at his hip. The opponent pushed and pulled, taking Jaune down, his back now further drenched in mud. He quickly mounted Jaune, throwing punches at his face. Jaune held his guard to protect his face, each blow making his face scrunched more and more from the pain. The opponent grabbed one of Jaune's hands and moved it out of the way, followed by a strong punch to the jaw. Jaune's head reared back, his head hitting violently against the ground. Jaune used his foot and trapped his opponents. With all of his force, Jaune pushed him, his opponent now having his back against the ground. His opponent grabbed his arm and wrapped their legs around Jaune's neck, attempting a triangle choke. The grip was tight, and Jaune started to feel his airway start to close off. Jaune reach behind, and in a feat of strength, started to pry his legs apart. Once they weren't as tight, Jaune shifted his head and managed to squeeze out. Jaune grabbed his opponent's leg, then tucked it into his armpit, putting him into a leg lock. His opponent starts rolling them, Jaune holding onto the leg, pulling it harder. Jaune could feel the grip on the ankle start to waine.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! The sound of a whistle made Jaune flinch "TIME!". Jaune let go of his opponent's leg, his body flopping onto the ground. His chest was heaving, and by the sound of it, his opponents were too. Jaune rested for a bit longer, then rolled over and stood up. Jaune walked over to his opponent and offered his arm. The opponent looked up, then slumped back down. He accepted Jaune's arm and stood up. He grunted on his way up "благодарю вас".

"ATEEENNTIOON" a drill sergeant yells. Both Jaune and his opponent turn face and have their arms at their sides, well at least to the best of their current ability. "Both of you are AWFUL." He yelled. "Vityaz, where the hell is your guard?".

"I don't-"

"Did I give you permission to speak?'

"нет-".

"Shut the FUCK up" the drill sergeant got in his face, his forehead making connection to the side of Vityaz's head. "You are AWFUL at hand to hand. You took one small hit to the arm and your guard gave! Awww that's so sad. Do you want mommy babushka whatever to kiss it for you?". Jaune stood silently. That statement was somewhat false. During the spar, Vityaz almost caught a nasty sidekick to the ribs but managed to block it at the last second. However Jaune stood silent. He knew it was a facade to break them down. "You're lucky that your wrestling saved you!". That part was the hidden complement. Vityaz was a damn good wrestler. In the middle of the fight, he managed to take Jaune down and start doing some real damage to him. Jaune almost got his arm broken if he didn't escape an arm bar. When Jaune tried to stand back up, Vityaz scooped up his legs and slammed him back onto the ground. Vityaz was a few inches shorter than Jaune and 60 pounds lighter, but still managed to throw Jaune around like a hacky sack. According to him, he lived in a village not too far from Oso. It was also just outside of Atlas called Georgia. All they did was train and run. It was a farming country that was self sustainable so it wasn't something they were concerned about. His day was eat, sleep, and train. It showed. He would smoke Jaune in any running activity and hand to hand was a near nightmare. If Jaune wasn't bigger and taller, he didn't think he would have a chance.

And yes. Size does matter.

"AAAANNNNNDD YOU ARC" Jaune stood straighter, his eyes focused forward, trying to not look at the drill sergeant intruding on his personal space. "You were a SHIT SHOW today!". Jaune tried his best not to flinch. "Do you like rolling in the mud, Arc? Are you a mud baby, a pig even?".

"No sir!" Jaune yelled hoarsely.

"Then why the HELL are you spending so much time in the mud?" He yelled, inching closer to Jaune's face.

"I got taken down sir" Jaune replied curtly.

"Do I look blind Arc?" The drill sergeant purposely got into Jaune's line of sight. "Don't I have the most beautiful baby blue eyes you've ever seen?"

"Yes sir you have the most beautiful baby blue eyes I've ever seen". Jaune replied, trying to look past the drill sergeant .

"Then how the HELL did you think I didn't see you eating dirt?". The drill sergeant sent a knife hand at his chest.

"I don't know sir," Jaune replied.

"Well I did!" the DS yelled. "You're damn lucky your striking is mediocre at best! If you worked hard, you could've been the best ametur boxer no one had ever heard of. Otherwise Vityaz would've made you the class pretzel. Now get the hell out of my mudpit before I make this little spar look like a children's theater show! Ekon! Morris! Out here now!"

Jaune and Vityaz hobbled out of the mud pit, Jaune almost slipping as he climbed out. Gonzales gave a hand to Vityaz, pulling him up out of the pit, with Oso doing the same for Jaune. They heard whispers such as "good spar ya'll" and "hell of a fight mate". Jaune put his hand on Vityaz's shoulder, turning him around.
"Damn good spar buddy" He huffed out. "You're a fine fighter"

"Да" Vityaz's face tried to form a smile, or whatever beat of version he could "You, big man, have strong right hand"

Jaune chuckled. "You're a damn good wrestler. Didn't think a man of your size can take down a man of my stature"

Vityaz chuckled and shook his head. "It's all technique. You big muscle just make it harder".

Jaune was going to respond until the ground underneath him shook. It nearly caused Jaune to fall if he didn't brace against Vityaz. Jaune looked around to see the cause of the disturbance, then found the source; the mud pit. Oso had thrown Morris into the wall the Vityaz and Jaune were standing on. Morris coughed out blood and huffed. "Alright lassie" he sneered in a heavy Scottish accent "You want to play rough, I'll play rough". Morris pushed himself off the wall, full on sprinting at Oso. Morris wasn't small by any means. He was a solid 240lbs and a good 6'0. But compared to Oso? He looked liked a child. Jaune grinned. He loved Morris for that. His aggression was something not to be tempered with. Jaune took a step back as he watched the spar continue on, both fighters taking a beating.


Jaune walked and pressed the buttstock of his M4 against his shoulder, the barrel pointing down in a low ready position. The body armor holding his mags felt light in comparison to the nerves and knots in his chest. He walked forward, a foot away from the wooden wall. He stopped at a wooden door and braced against the wall nearby. He reached to his left shoulder and pressed against his radio "Alpha-1 entering hostage building". Jaune raised his right hand and knocked on his helmet twice, followed by flashing his hand. Jaune lowered his rifle and grabbed a flashbang that was hanging on his rig. He heard footsteps behind him, approaching the door. Morris braced against the opposite side of the door, a sledgehammer hanging on the back of his chest rig. He heard more shuffling behind him and stopped in front of the door. Gonzales was pulling security, his M4 pointed at the door. Morris lowered his M4 and grabbed the sledgehammer off his back. Morris looked at him and nodded, Jaune nodding back. Morris swung the hammer back, slamming it into the door. Jaune threw the flashbang into the room, the sound of an explosion following soon after. Jaune was first to enter, flowing in left. He spotted a target of a man wearing a ski mask and holding a handgun. Jaune three shots into the chest, pushing further into the room. Behind him, he heard more gunshots. As he pivoted his foot and looked towards the front of the room, spotting another target behind a couch. Jaune fired 2 shots into the target, with many more bullets hitting the target from other rifles.

"Clear left!" Jaune yelled.

"Clear right!" He heard another say after him. "Stack up on this door!"

Jaune turned to see Ekon as the first in the stack, gripping his M249 SAW tightly against his chest. Jaune fell in and placed third in the stack. "I need a hard breach!" Ekon called out "Metal door!". He saw Gonzales jog past him. He reached behind and placed a plastic explosive on the door, then placed himself on the other side of the door. Gonzales inhaled "Crash! Crash! Crash!". The plastic explosive went off, the explosion shaking the room. Jaune's ears rang, being protected by his Keltec ear protection. The stack started to move forward. Morris was in front of him and moved left into the room. Jaune moved in to the right. Upon entering, he spotted a target posted up against the wall and fired into it. He looked around and saw Parker flow after him, being the last in the stack. "Door here!" Parker yelled. "Stack on me!". Jaune was the second in the stack, behind Parker. "Prep a flash!". Jaune walked over to the opposite side of the door and pulled out a flash bang. Parker exhaled, moved in front of the door, and front kicked the door at its handle. The door came flying open, a flashbang following soon after. Parker flew in left, Jaune went in right. Jaune shot at a target that was hiding in the corner he flew into. He heard other shots ring out behind him. After a few moments, Jaune looked at the center of the room and spotted a human shaped dummy with a sack over its head.

"Clear left!" Jaune yelled.

"Clear right" he heard Gonzales yell.

Jaune approached the dummy in the middle of the room and inspected it. He pressed against his radio and called out "Hostage is secure. Alpha-1 is heading to primary extract." Jaune let go of the radio and looked around to assess the situation. "Morris, carry the hostage. Ekon you're on rear security. Diamond formation around Morris". The group started to head back through the rooms that were previously cleared, making their way out of the building. Once the group left the building, whistler blew.

"Two minutes and thirteen seconds" a drill sergeant said. "You're getting better, fellas. You're not perfect however. I counted two occasions when someone in the stack didn't flow in fast enough. You're close, but close ain't gonna save your buddy from being mag dumped. Run it again". Jaune nodded. "You heard him. Morris, give the dummy to the DS. Everyone else, take 2 and meet here".

The group that had made it past selection was small, consisting of maybe at most 12 people. Most of those who dropped aren't metnally or physically prepared for the selection process. However, now that the selection was over and basic training was occurring, the DS stopped trying to weed out the weak. Instead, they became mentors, teaching and correcting small errors that the group made during training. They also spent more time in the classroom. Right now they were in Urban Raiding and Fighting school. Everyone took part in this school. Some of it was in the classroom, but most of it was in a makeshift town, made of mostly plywood. They were training at a particular part of town called the 'Kill House'. It was a small and confined building reflecting a modern day house, thus the aforementioned nickname. They were separated into different teams, consisting of a random number of squad members. Jaune liked the training. Firing the M4 was fun to him. It was louder than any dust weapon he's ever seen and doesn't transform into anything else, but the doctrine that the RDF was teaching him was heavily gun based. He still learned CQC and hand to hand, but not at the level he was trained to handle a gun. For several days straight, he and the rest of the candidates were trained on these weapons. Jaune looked down at his M4 again. It was apparently 'Standard issue' and the group wouldn't need to keep using it if they could get custom weapons. Jaune considered it. Hey did know a couple of gunsmiths within the military base they were training at. They were cool guys, had lots of funny stories that they told the candidates during their time off. Jaune smiled.

"Alright it's all set up" The drill sergeant declared. "Get your group together Arc".

Jaune nodded and circled the group. They all stacked on the first door that had been replaced, ready to go at it again.


Jaune walked into the classroom full of candidates he trained with and smiled. The classroom was bustling with activity, people were talking and laughing. one another. He could see Vityaz and Oso chatting with each other. Parker, surprisingly, was talking to Shane Vu, one of the candidates from a village around where Parker grew up. He was a smaller guy, sitting at 5'8 and 170lbs, but he was damn good with a blade. He was from some small village called 'Vietnam', and it was nothing but a few hours drive from spotted an empty seat at the front of the class next to Gonzales and Ekon. He walked over, said his greetings to both, and sat down with a huff.

"Ahhh, my favorite Angel. Mister Archangel, how are things big mon?" Ekon booned.

"Merde. I fucking hate that name" Jaune groaned. "And fuck you guys for spreading it around".

"Ahhh but that singing you did at basic? Like an angel's. Could put a baby to sleep" Gonzales snickered as he faked falling asleep.

"Next time I'll sing the cadence wrong if you keep calling me that" Jaune chuckled.

"Aww come on mon" Ekon stretched back, extending his legs from under the desk. "It suits you. You can cook, sing, and dance. All of the ladies back in Congo would be fighting over you".

Jaune chuckled at the thought. "Ah I wish. I haven't had a single lady approach me for all of my 20 years of existence"

"Que?" Gonzales nearly fell out of his chair. "How? You're like perfect house husband material/ Shit if none of those ladies are gonna snatch ya, I'll put a ring on it" Gonzales chuckled.

"Beats me man," Jaune shrugged. "I guess my seven sisters scared them away before they could take to me"

Behind him he could hear an audible gasp. Jaune turned around to see Morris absolutely flabbergasted. "Christ laddie. I can see where you got those house skills of yours. Speaking of, are any of them looking for a hot Scottish man?".

"You know what? I'll ask around. If you do date any of my sisters just know you're gonna have to fight me and my six other sisters. You know, family obligations".

"I can do that. If she's a fine lassie I'll go to the ends of the earth for her" Morris smiled.

"Poetic" Jaune smirked.

The door of the classroom flew open and a new man entered the room. He was clean cut and wore a camo uniform that was similar to the one all of the candidates were wearing. "Alright, cut the chatter. You lot can make out in the shower once this is over". The room fell into silence, except for a few chuckles at the remark. "My name is Major Witt. I'm in the 404 intel division. I'm here to teach 'Basics of RDF Combat and Doctrine'. For those who didn't catch that or are in the back, I'm teaching you the what's and whys to the RDF. Any questions so far?".

The room was silent, all eyes were focused on Major Witt.

"Good. I would've made fun of any of you blokes that did ask. So let's get the biggest part of the doctrine first, the weapons. As you may have noticed during your training, we don't use dust rounds or weapons. We use black powder ammunition. It's a hell of a lot different than your usual dust round. As I'm sure all of you lot know, dust rounds have 'magical' properties, such as ice, fire, gravity, whatever the hell the use loads into their weapon. Black powder does not have that luxury. You shoot it, it hits the target, then boom, done. That's it. Nothing more to it. However there are a hell of a lot more benefits to black powder ammunition than you think. Our black powder ammunition is, and I cannot stress this enough, SIGNIFICANTLY more powerful and has more stopping power than dust rounds. It takes an average of around 6-8 dust rounds to break aura. With black powder? Maybe 1-2, three for the blokes that have an unusually high amount of aura. It also travels much faster, making landing accurate shots significantly easier."

A hand raised from the classroom. "Yes sir, the gentleman in the back".

Vityaz spoke up "If black powder ammunition is significantly more powerful than dust rounds, why do huntsmen not use them?"

"Excellent question," Major Witt smiled. "I'll get to that. Of course this power does come with a few drawbacks. First of, as I'm very sure you lot have figured out, they are fucking LOUD. Significantly louder than dust rounds. While we do have subsonic rounds, their range is limited. Not only that but they kick significantly more. It makes fully automatic fire nearly impossible. Granted, full auto with dust ammunition isn't exactly accurate either, but way easier than black powder. Black powder is also not compatible with huntsman weapons. I'm sure you've all seen those really cool mecha shift weapons. Am I correct lads?" the Major asked.

Everyone in the room nodded.

"Well here the kicker, you can't have any gaps or folds in the barrel for black powder weapons. We've tested. The weapon explodes upon firing due to the higher pressure from the gas released in the bullet. That gas gets released from the folds of the barrel, and expands on it, then boom. Trust me lads, it's not pretty. Not only that but black powder isn't exactly popular. Not as flashy for those huntsmen. No cool side effects like freezing your adversaries' balls off or setting them on fire. Now this does take me to my next point, our fighting doctrine. We've all seen those cool huntsman videos of them doing cool flips and beating up a bunch of people, right?".

Again, everyone in the room nodded.

"Well, that not only takes an unnecessary amount of training to do, but is physically taxing on the body. It is much easier to shoot and kill your target with your rifle than it is beating the snot out of them. It only takes a few pounds of pressure to pull the trigger of your rifles, but it takes your entire body to fight someone hand to hand like these blokes do. So we don't. With our rifles, you should be able to take out any enemies in a few bullets. It saves you the energy and uses the money to train you for all that mess. And I'll tell you this right now, while we may train you for hand to hand, if you ever do get in that situation, you're fucked. Always go for your gun. Always. Knife fights may be cool, but you will have a higher chance of living if you go for your sidearm or file and hose them down. Now lets get to the next point; Grimm. I'm sure you blokes are acquainted with our furry friends made of sludge and shit, willing to kill whatever moves. You lot heard of the idea that Grimm are attracted to negative feelings and dead bodies?".

Everyone in the room nodded

"Well, that's a bunch of horse shit" Major Witt revealed. "The human body produces a pheromone called 'oxytillin*'. Whenever you feel like shit or in a bad mood, your body excretes this in order to try and level your hormones in your body that are causing that negative emotion. Grimm can smell that shit. Seeing as dead bodies release all their bowels and gasses within them, there is a massive uptick in oxytillin. Also, seeing as aura increases the human body a lot, it also increases the amount of hormones going around the body, meaning that there is more oxytillin in those who have aura. So, how do you stop or decrease the oxytillin in the air? Simple, you burn the bodies. The oxytillin is destroyed and covered by the smell of burning flesh, a smell that grimm aren't as attracted to. As for those with aura producing it, we have nothing. You're just going to have to be charming and calm them down. One of you, or maybe more, will be carrying a flamethrower on you at all times. You will be designated as a pyromancer. This brings me to my next point, your purpose. I'm sure you lot have figured it out by now, but none of you have aura. You may be asking why you have been given a task force. Well, I'll put it simple. The world is based around aura. Semblances affect the aura of a person and use that to contort their physical being. For example, an allusion aura fucks with the aura enhanced eyes and makes them see something that's not there. Or maybe there is a mind control semblance that takes over the aura enhancing the brain. Or maybe there is a semblance that causes people to fucking explode. You lot aren't affected by this. Same thing with technology. Almost all technology is now aura based due to it being more accurate. Most targeting technology isn't motion sense, its aura sense. The satellites that Atlas uses track people based on their unique aura reading. To put it simply, you lot are untraceable. Grimm has a hard time tracking you too due to your low production of oxytillin. Whenever you lot are activated, either we believe that someone has a dangerous semblance, the compound or area we are operating in has technology that would put us on the map when the RDF doesn't want to, or we believe grimm would collapse on the position quickly. Congrats blokes. You're special forces. Shortly after end of this class, you lot will go to your individual schools to become specialized. That should take around 6-8 months depending on how unfortunate you are. After that, you will take a language class. Russian to be precise. All of our Tier One units communicate in Russian. It's not a popular language and vastly different from the main language. That way, enemies won't be able to understand your battle chatter or, god forbid, they infiltrate our comms networks and listen in. I know a few of you lot already speak it, so lucky you. That class will be over the course of 2 years. Am I understood?" Major Witt asked.

"Yes Sir" Everyone rang out.


RDF Phantom Task Force files

Access: [redacted]

Commander: [redacted]

Base of Operations: [redacted]

Notes: Any ranks below officer ranks are mostly arbitrary. Meant to follow best fit to lead if all officers are KIA or MIA.


Name: Jaune 'Archangel' Arc

Weight: 255lbs

Height: 6'2

Race: Human

Rank: Lieutenant

Place of Birth: France

Age: 20

Weapons/equipment used:

HK416

P226

Combat Knife

Advanced First Aid Kit

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Advanced Medical School

Paramedic School

Leadership and Experience School

Notes: During basic training, Jaune demonstrated leadership skill at a high level under stressful and demanding situations, earning him an officer rank. He was able to unite the candidates on multiple occasions and organized a small mutiny during a long run. He demonstrated a large desire to both be a leader and one of the team's medic due to 'His parents wanting him to be a doctor'.


Name: Alejandro 'Cowboy' Gonzales

Weight: 175lbs

Height: 5'5

Race: Human

Rank: Sergeant

Place of Birth: Texas

Age: 19

Weapons/equipment used:

M1014

M4A1

M17

Basic Hard Breach Kit

Demolition Kit

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Hard Breach and Entering School

Notes: Gonzales has demonstrated a high efficiency in high explosive ordinance. He was highly proficient in recoilless rifles but finds more enjoyment in 'blowing shit up'. He attributed his success to 'being kickass at propane properties'. Is trained in breaching harder surfaces such as metal or reinforced doors.


Name: Clyde 'Scott' Morris

Weight: 240lbs

Height: 6'0

Race: Human

Rank: Corporal

Place of Birth: Scotland

Age: 23

Weapons/equipment used:

L85A2

P226

Sledgehammer

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Basic Breach and Entering School

Notes: Morris has demonstrated a high level of aggression on multiple occasions. While it has not gotten out of control or clouded his judgment, he has been characterized as 'aggressive' by his peers.


Name: Parker 'Vigil' Chung

Weight: 160lbs

Height: 5'7

Race: Human

Rank: Staff Sergeant

Place of Birth: Korea

Age: 22

Weapons/equipment used:

K14 Bolt Action Rifle

K2

P226

Karambit

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Scout Sniper School

Notes: Chung has excelled in sniper school, scoring above his peers while remaining quiet. During training, he wore a ballistic mask to cover his scarred face, making him unknown to his peers. He has demonstrated team working skill, but remains quiet unless necessary.


Name: Dimitri 'Oso' Petrov

Weight: 390lbs

Height: 6'5

Race: Bear Faunus

Rank: Staff Sergeant

Place of Birth: Siberia

Age: 25

Weapons/equipment used:

PKP Pecheneg

Markarov

Combat Machete

M134 Modified Minigun

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Juggernaut School

Squad Gunner School

Notes: Petrov has demonstrated a high level of strength, higher than most of our other troops. He passed our most physically demanding school yet, Juggernaut school, with ease. It is most likely due to his genetics as a bear Faunus. He strength is nearly unmatched.


Name: Ekon 'Tiger' Abebe

Weight: 340lbs

Height: 6'4

Rank: Sergeant

Race: Human

Place of Birth: Congo

Age: 23

Weapons/equipment used:

M240B

M9

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Juggernaut School

Squad Gunner School

Notes: During Juggernaut School, Abebe passed. However, he did struggle to keep up at times, his will and spirit proven to be unwavering. He had proven to be stronger than any normal human. Tests could not prove why.


Name: Shane 'Wolfeater' Vu

Weight: 200

Height: 5'10

Rank: Sergeant

Race: Dog Faunus

Place of Birth:

Age: 24

Weapons/equipment used:

M110 Marksman Rifle

M9

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Scout Sniper Training

Spotter School

Notes: During Sniper school, Vu had proven to be able to do quick calculations of advanced math in his head. While training in the field he was able to quickly measure the wind and calculate accordingly, and align his scope. He was recommended to Spotter school and passed with flying colors. He was able to run far distances due to his heritage.


Name: Vityaz 'Rat' Volkov

Weight: 190lbs

Height: 5'11

Rank: Staff Sergeant

Race: Human

Place of Birth: Georgia

Age: 22

Weapons/equipment used:

Dragunov SVD

PP19 SMG

Markarov

Schools attended:

Basic Training

SERE School

Urban Raiding and Fighting school

Pathfinder School

Air Assault School

Airborne School

Scout Sniper Training

Notes: Volkov had proven to be an excellent scout. His endurance was remarkable and he was able to remember pictures and places. He called it his 'Photographic Memory'. He excelled in hand to hand combat, sending him above his peers.

Click here to view next page of Operators -

*I made this up

Uhhh expect the next chapter to actually contain Operations and whatnot. Just needed to get the exposition out of the way. When is it going to be updated? Beats me. Probably last this month or early August. No promises.