Omniscient POV
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Under the sun's gaze and over Beacon's academy grounds, the Amity Colosseum stood proud almost as high in the sky as Beacon Tower itself.
The gargantuan Colosseum floated with the aid of a gravity Dust crystal the size of a meteor fixed to its undersize. On both levels, hundreds of students and fans scurried towards the entrance ways as waves of airbuses moved back and forth from its conical frame.
Inside the prized arena itself, Professors Oobleck and Port, the two acting commentators for the occasion, appeared on the four giant monitors spaced along the Colosseum's rim.
Port cleared his throat, leaned closer towards the microphone, and gulped a lungful of air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are live!" The power booming in his voice alone shot electricity into the bones of the spectators. "At the Amity Colosseum, broadcasting from the Kingdom of Vale, we welcome you to the Vytal Festival Tournament!"
The thousands of people in attendance and the millions watching at home and around the world roared to their feet.
"Yes, yes, I agree," Oobleck said. "I can't wait to get the show on the road and witness our first two teams compete. However, before that, we must introduce the ceremonial opening act for today, and my word is it a special treat."
In the rows closest to the edge of the massive, eight sided arena, Teams RTLS, RWBY, and JNPR, sat together.
"It sure is getting rowdy over here," said Cooper. He laughed and tossed a popcorn flake up high past several seats. "Sure is exciting, wouldn't you say, mate?"
Alexander grunted and watched Ruby catch the piece of popcorn in her mouth.
"Man, I wonder who's this special guest they're talking about." Several famous people crossed Roderick's mind. "They never revealed it, so they must be good."
"The ceremonial opening act usually consists of a performance from a musical celebrity, or a combat scenario involving Huntsman Academy alumni." Stiofan observed the darkened arena entrances. "Either way, nothing excites an audience more than a beloved surprise."
"Now, we got you fine folks waiting long enough," Oobleck said, "and let me tell you it doesn't get any bigger than this. Trust me, I know."
Port sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Our guest is a graduate of Beacon Academy, a personal favourite of mine during his years as my student. He now resides in the Kingdom of Mistral, not only fulfilling his duty as a Huntsman but also as a world renowned hero." A wave of his hand turned all eyes towards the western arena entrance. "Please welcome, The Architect, Reynold Hill!"
The revelation sparked through the crowd in an electrifying punch that jumped-started them to new heights.
Roderick sprayed his drink out in a fine mist.
"No way!" Yang gave Roderick an accusing look. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"Yeah, Rod!" Down the same row, past Weiss and Blake, Ruby caught another popcorn flake in her mouth. "Why didn't you tell us?!"
Roderick fumbled for an excuse.
"Roderick, look." Pyrrha stuck her arm out behind Roderick's chair and pointed ahead. "He's here!"
Emerging out of the shadows and into the limelight, the hero himself appeared.
His dress shirt shimmered and shined like a violet ocean under the morning light, a diagonal striped tie rolled down his chest, and his blue waistcoat locked rock firm to his slim physique. Across his upper back, a leather holster looped over his shoulders, dangling a pair of handguns at his sides, and a belt of pouches wrapped his waist.
The deafening cries followed Reynold as he crossed the outer quadrants of the expansive, octagonal arena, and wandered towards the central platform.
For a moment, through square rimmed glasses, his chestnut eyes met with his brother's golden gaze before he turned it towards the eight quadrants, whirring and sliding open to elevate a new factor into the mix.
Grimm.
On each quadrant were large cages, housing a variety of Grimm species. The collective gasps of the audience hushed the entire Colosseum, which left the snarling Grimm bashing the bars the sole cheer, begging to let loose.
"As you can see, folks," Oobleck said, "Reynold Hill will be performing a small demonstration of not only his skills but also the true qualities of what it means to be a pro Huntsman."
"Indeed, and might I say," Port said, "this was a special request by Reynold Hill as well. I personally went ahead and captured the Grimm yesterday. There are a total of twenty Beowolves, ten Boarbatusks, two Ursa Majors, eight Ursa Minors, six Creeps, three Griffons, and one King Taijitu."
The audience didn't know what was more shocking: the fact that Reynold decided to take them on his own or that Port managed to capture that many Grimm in a single day.
Cooper scooted closer to the edge of his seat. "Is that bloke seriously gonna fight all those things at once? No offense, Radek, but I think your brother has a screw loose."
"I sorta agree with Cooper," Jaune said behind them. "Isn't one man against that many Grimm kinda much?"
"Who cares." Nora cupped her hands around her mouth. "Rip their heads off!"
Weiss furrowed her brow. "Reynold Hill might be quite the seasoned Huntsman, but I have to agree. This seems dangerous. It doesn't even look like he has enough ammunition to deal with all of them."
"As if." Ruby blew her lips. "Rey's the best."
"Even if he can handle them," worry pinched Blake's face, "he's completely surrounded and there's no cover at all. I doubt he'll come out of there unscathed."
"Hey," Yang grinned, "don't go counting Rey out yet, right, Roddy?"
Roderick sank in his seat and sighed. "It won't take long. That's for sure."
The comment caused his friends to give him questioning looks.
Reynold rolled his sleeves, revealing metal bracelets with purple Dust loaded inside them.
In the commentator booth high above the stands, Oobleck and Port were given a wave from Reynold, signaling them to press a button.
A horn buzzed, and the cages popped open.
The Grimm burst free, clambering over each other for the taste of the Huntsman served up on a silver platter, and the world watched with bated breaths.
The ever approaching storm of Grimm rushed in from all sides.
A Griffon, a type of Grimm with the wings and head of a bird on the body of a lion, swooped in from the skies and went straight for him.
Reynold brandished his twin handguns bearing an over and under barrel, glistening more intensely than the finest of sapphires in the sunlight.
The names of each gun was etched on the side: Aventine and Palatine.
Reynold flicked a switch on the grip of Aventine, transforming it into a dagger, and flung Palatine past the Griffon's skull. With a snap of his fingers, he vanished, and Palatine clattered on the floor where he used to be.
The Grimm and audience blinked once, and to their confusion, the Griffon shrieked, writhing in agony as Reynold knelt beside it, dagger plunged into the nape of its neck.
A second later, the realization hit the stands.
The people clamoured in awe while the Grimm howled their hate.
Ripping Aventine free and holstering it, Reynold fished a vial of dark blue Dust from a pouch. He stuck a hand out towards Palatine. His bracelet flared; the pistol's grip flared. It gravitated towards him as he tossed the vial high in the air and snapped his fingers the moment he caught the gun.
The Grimm charged at once, impatient fangs bared and eager to sink into his flesh, but just like before, Reynold disappeared.
The Grimm skidded to a halt and whipped around.
Clink!
The Grimm snapped towards the vial rolling next to the dead Griffon as a shadow loomed above them.
All eyes went up to Reynold hanging in the air.
He loaded a magazine in the space in front of Palatine's trigger, causing it to glow yellow, and with a single shot, fired a lightning round.
The vial exploded forth a sparking geyser of water. Electrical knights surfed along their aquatic steeds, brandishing their buzzing lances, and discharged. They trampled the Grimm and skewered them like pigs over an open fire, giving them a merciless taste of Nature's Wrath.
Nothing was spared.
The Grimm were swept away, roasted and reduced to smoldering crisps.
Shock pummeled the audience.
The only Grimm to make it out uncooked was the King Taijitu, slithering outside of the hot zone, and the remaining two Griffons circling above.
Both the white and black halves of the serpent hissed and lurched, but Reynold tossed Palatine and snapped his fingers again, reappearing on top of the black half's head. He loaded Aventine, it glowed purple, and he fired a round into both of the snakes' skulls. It did nothing other than irritate them. However, when a purple light emitted from where the bullets stuck in the scales, gravity Dust pulled the heads together.
Reynold leaped off and shot the floor, and the extra gravity yanked the snakes straight down, fixing it in place.
No matter how much the King Taijitu tried to pry itself free, it was futile.
Bracelet flaring, Palatine returned to him as the two Griffons came fast approaching. He embedded a couple gravity rounds in the tiles, and the Griffons were snatched out of the air, grounded directly at his feet.
The Griffons stretched themselves to their very limits just to get a chomp out of him. Reynold simply stared back, loading a new magazine in Aventine and Palatine.
They glowed brown.
Jamming his pistols in their mouths, they gagged and choked on the bitter Dust pills forced down their throats. They bulged and swelled. Patches of fur ripped open. Rocky spikes tore their bodies apart, and it left them laying there as nothing more than a pair of meaty boulders.
Reynold tapped the boulders with his hands before throwing his pistols at the writhing King Taijitu.
The world slowed to a crawl.
Anticipation stole the wind from the crowd.
Holding out his hand, Reynold pressed his thumb and middle finger together.
Snap!
The boulders vanished, the pistols were suddenly on the floor where the boulders were a moment ago, and they reappeared above the King Taijitu. Letting out one last spiteful hiss, the snake could do nothing other than let the future fall and watch the boulders crush it's skulls.
Reynold retrieved his pistols, holstered them, and after giving his suit a quick brush, he walked off.
The entire arena rocketed to their feet, cheers out of control, yet hidden within the hyped up masses, a single person remained in her seat.
Watching on with the faintest of smiles from the front row, Cinder slowly clapped, eyes shimmering gold.
-----
Roderick Hill
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After four matches, a truckload of calls and messages, and a marathon of searching, Roderick wanted to punch his brother.
"Why is he ignoring me?" Roderick tossed his scroll at his pillow and fell into bed. "First he comes here without telling me, does the opening act, leaves, and doesn't even bother to say hi? Man, he better have a really good excuse, or I swear. . ."
"Relax, partner." Stiofan seated himself next to him. "I'm sure a man as himself has very important business to attend to. Like I've mentioned before, perhaps, it's best to leave it be. The time will come, eventually."
"Couldn't have said it better myself, mate." On his own bed, Cooper chuckled. "As a seasoned thief, I speak from experience when it comes to picking the right moments. That brother of yours is probably doing so as we speak. Isn't that right, Leon?"
It's been a while since the camping trip, but Roderick still had trouble getting used to the name change.
Alexander sat up in bed and scoffed. "Suck it up and wait, Hill."
Cooper grinned and slapped his knee. "Three in favour of one. I like my odds."
Roderick groaned into his hands.
A knock rattled the door.
"Are any of you expecting anyone?" Stiofan said.
They shook their heads.
Roderick crossed the room. "I got it "
When he opened the door, the world flipped upside-down.
The wind left his lungs as he thumped off the carpet. He fell into a fit of coughs, and once his vision cleared, he glared at the man standing above.
"Your guard's down, Roderick." Reynold smirked and looked down on him. "I guess some things never change."
Roderick jumped to his feet. "Seriously, man?"
"What?" He shrugged. "I wanted to see how much you improved during your time here."
"By ignoring and ambushing me?" He held his hips and gave a dubious look. "Really?"
Reynold adjusted his glasses. "It was a test."
"Oh, come on." Roderick threw his arms up. "It's hardly been ten seconds and you're already testing me? Give me a break."
"For good reason and besides, it was fun." He extended his hand. "So, how are you?"
He rolled his eyes and pulled him into a one armed hug. "Better than you."
A chuckle escaped him. "And this is Team RTLS. A pleasure to meet you all."
Roderick stiffened at the fact he forgot there were other people in the room; Stiofan, Cooper, and Alexander stared like Ozpin himself came to visit.
"Right, uh, guys." He gestured to them. "This is my brother, Reynold, and Reynold, this is my partner Stiofan."
"Greetings."
"That's Cooper."
"Hiya, Ryan!"
Reynold cocked an eyebrow. "It's Reynold."
"Ignore him. He does that." Roderick turned to the last person in the room. "And that's Alexander. He doesn't talk much, though."
Alexander grunted.
"I can already see this is quite the team you have assembled here, and as much as I would like to know more about you," Reynold gripped Roderick's shoulder, "I want to spend time with my brother. Now, if you'll excuse us. . ."
Before anyone could respond, Reynold snapped his fingers.
The dorm room vanished, and they were suddenly outside in the sunny air, peeking into the arena from the rim of Amity Colosseum.
Roderick knew better than anyone that Reynold got them up there with his Semblance: Swap.
"Halftime's almost over." Reynold sat down and hung his legs over the edge of the rim. "Want to watch the second half of the matches with me?"
"Alright." Roderick joined him. "I'm game. Got any favourites? Well, you know, other than me."
The side of his mouth twitched. "You know it'll have to be Yang, Ruby, and Pyrrha's teams. Do you know when they'll compete?"
"My team has the fifth slot tomorrow, right after Team RWBY and JNPR." His brow furrowed. "It's actually kinda weird how that works out."
"First years are given extra time in order to help them prepare better, considering they're novices compared to the older students."
"You should know." Roderick jabbed his arm. "You've been in two Vytal Festival Tournaments."
"And so will you." Reynold took off his glasses and rubbed them clean on his waistcoat. "All that training will be put to work in front of the whole world, and even if you don't win the tournament, your talents will be recognized."
Roderick's heart did a nose dive into his stomach.
That was the plan. Fight, win, and look good doing it. The idea itself jittered his nerves but to actually hear someone say it sent those jitters right to his bones.
"Roderick," Reynold glanced at his chest, "is something wrong?"
"What makes you say that? Nothing's wrong."
"You're fiddling with your pendant."
Roderick looked down and sighed at the laurel wreath sliding between his fingers.
"Look," he said and wiped his face. "As much as I want to win the tournament, I'm actually more afraid of messing up and letting my team down. If that happens, I. . . I don't know what I'd do."
Exasperated, Reynold put his glasses back on. "I accepted Ozpin's invitation and had Laurence take me to another continent to see my brother succeed—not listen to him whine about possible failures."
Roderick blinked at the sound of Reynold's teammate. "Larry's here?"
"Forget Laurence, and tell me how's Tyrannus? Still in good shape, I hope."
"It's fine." He tilted his head. "Why?"
"I let you have it for a reason, you know." Reynold examined his guns, Aventine and Palatine. "Whether you know it or not, we put our life and soul into these weapons we craft. They're our partners, the embodiment of ourselves in its purest form."
"Reynold, what're you try—"
"I've told you before that Tyrannus will be there to support you when I'm not by your side." He holstered his guns and gazed at the horizon. "But you have your own team now. I'm not the only one supporting you anymore. Through the good and bad, easy and tough, I know for certain they will stick by you no matter the outcome."
Roderick let those words soothe him. "You really think so?"
Reynold raised a finger. " 'Life will always get in your way, but what matters is how you face it. Either lay there and cry or stand tall and be a king.' Although, I have to ask," his finger turned towards Roderick, "what's a king without his companions? Nothing, but an empty crown." He made a fist and bumped his pendant. "Trust in yourself and believe in your team."
"My team, huh." The thought of Stiofan, Cooper, and Alexander standing by his side pumped a dose of reassurance into him. "Yeah, I can do that."
"However, to be honest, you always did have a bad habit of messing up." Reynold ruffled Roderick's head. "But that's what makes you who you are, I suppose."
"Whatever." Roderick lurched away and fixed his hair. "Get out of here."
A buzzer sounded, and the next match began.
Roderick wrinkled his nose at the team who was up next, specifically at the one person that left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Looks like Team CMSN (crimson) is up," he said.
"You know them?"
"Sorta. The leader, Cinder, mostly. She's a little weird, and she's a big fan of mine, apparently." Roderick motioned to the Aura monitors. "I ran into Mercury and Emerald a few times. They're cool, I guess. No clue who Nero is. Don't think I've ever seen her around."
Reynold stayed silent, focused entirely on the match.
"Uh, Reynold," Roderick waved a hand in front of him, "you still there."
"Just scouting the competition." He smirked. "And from what I can see, she's trouble. Best hope you don't meet her in the finals."
He frowned. "You saying she's better than me?"
"At your current level, everyone's better than you."
Roderick shoved him, Reynold shoved back, and they shared a laugh.
Soon after, for the rest of the afternoon, they passed the time telling stories of their fun adventures while enjoying the tournament together.