Remnant Of A Dream (Closers Online/RWBY)

[Stimpak Medic]

Prologue

Salem: Legends, stories scattered through time.

Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts, of a forgotten past.

Man, born from dust, was strong, wise, and resourceful, but he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness, creatures of destruction. The creatures of Grim set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void.

*However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds.

This power was appropriately named, "Dust".

Nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness and, in the shadow's absence, came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life.

Even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone… darkness will return.

So, you may prepare your guardians… Build your monuments to a so-called free world, but take heed… There will be no victory in strength.

Ozpin: But perhaps victory is in the simpler things that you've long forgotten. Things that require a small, more honest soul

Unknown Shadowed Man: Or perhaps, If I may intervene, victory can be found within all of us, working together to banish the darkness. For that is the brilliant light of Humanity that the darkness will never extinguish. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Even long after the curtains to this absurdist play close, the light will shine through. Don't be so quick to discount the strength of Humanity, their dreams, and myself.

---

It was late in the eve of the ever-moving city of Vale. Men and women walked the streets with their children, and cars drove back and forth. The occasional entertainer could be seen with their performances on the sidewalk, and everything seemed to be good and well. The light posts were well maintained and did not flicker, and the streets were clean, as clean as a city could be with the occasional littering, but that was rarely seen.

A man, seeming to be about reaching the beginning of his mid-thirties, whistled a soft tune as he walked with his large black briefcase. He had long white hair, a black top hat, a black suit with an elegant white necktie that would not look out of place in a theatre, and white leather gloves. And on his feet were spotless black shoes with silver clasps,

He was on his way to a dust shop that was not too far away; in fact, it was nearby. He needed some fire dust for a contraption he was working on, and he had recently run out.

"Goodness, what shall I do? My lady is going to kill me, but I just can't get it right no matter what I do." He stopped whistling and mumbled to himself, his shoulders dropping with dejection.

He stopped, looked to his left, let out an exclamation of dismay, then turned around. It seemed that he had passed the store and walked a further two blocks whilst deep in thought.

"What a mess I am." He said, then walked back to the dust store.

'From Dust Till Dawn' was the name of the establishment, printed in a dull red above the front door, run by a withered old man who barely kept his eyes open as he greeted the man who entered the store.

"Good Evening." The man in the top hat bowed politely, flourishing his hat as he entered the building.

"Oh, Mr. D. Welcome back!" The thin-eyed store owner greeted him with a smile.

"The pleasure is all mine, good Sir. Has a new shipment of fire dust come in yet?"

"Yes, it's on the far wall in the back. It arrived this morning." The shopkeeper said, and Mr. D smiled and opened his briefcase, revealing glass containers to hold the dust.

"Thank you. I'll be out of your hair now." Mr. D said, walking past several bookshelves that were filled with books and magazines. At the far end, he heard the sound of a lively song blaring through headphones and stopped to see what was going on, as his curiosity got the best of him.

Sitting against a shelf, with red and black headphones, was a young girl in a red and black outfit, a scythe leaning against the wall next to her. She had pale skin, silvery eyes, and black hair that had ever so slight reddish tints at the end.

However, in this world, a young woman with a weapon wasn't so out of place as you might think. What really interested him was something he couldn't fully explain. It felt like the world was twisting around her, as if her very presence was deemed important by the world. As a man who enjoyed stories, plays, and movies, he was certain, through his admittedly shoddy reasoning, that this girl was important to a story. Whoever's story that may be was up for question, but he could feel it in the world around him.

So entrapped by the movements of the world and the story, he did not realize he had been staring at the young girl, who had just noticed his presence.

She paused her music, looked over to him with confusion, and asked with some trepidation.

"Can I help you?" Her light voice was carried to his ears, and it took him a moment to snap out of his trance; then the man gave a deep bow.

"My apologies, young lady. I was shocked by how the world bent around you. You must be very important. Please, excuse me. I meant no offense." He said, finishing his bow, only to get a confused look from the young girl.

"What?" She only asked, incredibly confused.

"It's best I leave before I run my mouth too much. Best of luck." He said, turning away and quickly walking to the back of the store.

"Huh?" The young girl shrugged, about to put her headphones on, when there was a loud bang, and the front door was blasted off it's hinges by something or someone.

The girl stood up, scythe now in hand. If this was a robbery, she wouldn't go without a fight.

"Get the dust." The sound of a man's command was heard, and a man quickly approached her bookshelf. He wore a black suit and had red glasses. A long machete blade was in his hand.

The young girl stood in between him and the dust in the back.

"Hey kid, if you want to live, get out of my way." He said, walking towards her.

The girl took a deep breath, then shot forward, kicking the man in the chest with a soft crack, shattering the armor plate inside his plate carrier. He let out a muffled cry as he slammed through the glass window and out onto the street.

The girl saw the man lay unmoving, turned towards the front, seeing the shopkeeper being held at gunpoint by an orange haired man with a peculiar cane and white suit.

She approached, dispatching two more men who rushed her, machetes raised high with her scythe, sending them flying unconscious with a smash to the head.

"Useless," the orange-haired man groaned, his green eyes looking her over with disapproval.

"Couldn't even take care of a little girl with a scythe," he continued, turning and pointing his cane tip at the girl.

"I really do have to do everything myself in this city, huh?" He mused to himself, and then with a rumbling boom, he fired from his cane at the girl.

In the back, two men approached the top-hatted man who was filling his cases with fire dust, whistling softly.

"Drop the dust!" One of the men shouted, pointing his machete at Mr. D.

Mr. D looked at the man, the machete, then back at the man.

"Not right now. I'm busy." He said, and continued to place dust into his container.

"You asked for it." The goon said, and the two slashed at Mr. D.

"Perish."

With that word said, there was no explosion or violent light. No blast. No loud rumble. They were just gone. There were no more goons attacking him, just the empty area where Mr. D continued to fill his container, whistling a soft tune.

"That girl should be able to deal with the rest." He said, and finished filling his dust containers. Closing the containers, he placed them in his briefcase and walked slowly back to the front.

When he reached the front, he saw the girl and the man fighting out front, and she was clearly winning. Then the man made a daring escape involving a brilliantly placed fire dust explosion.

"You don't mind if I go after him?" The girl asked the shopkeeper, who nodded in affirmation.

Mr. D walked over to the front door that lay on the ground. Its hinges were destroyed, but Mr. D had his own way of doing things.

"Mind if I fix this?" He asked the shopkeeper, who looked at him for a moment.

"If you could, I'd appreciate it."

"Then I'll be quick." Mr. D replied, picking it up by the side and placing it where it should be. Then, as if in a dream, everything just melded into how it should be. Fixed to the tiniest detail.

"Done and dusted. You don't mind if I follow the two? I'll leave the dust here till I return." Mr. D said, motioning with his right hand towards the nearby rooftop where a fight was taking place.

"Go ahead. And thank you. I'm getting a bit old to do the repairs myself." The shopkeeper said, and Mr. D walked out of the store.

On the rooftop, the young girl had been joined in battle with a blonde-haired lady, who wielded a riding crop, and a white blouse, black laced boots, and a black buttoned skirt. She wore thin glasses and had a thin mouth. Her blue eyes were cold and determined.

Boom!

An explosion of fire burst from the roof, sending the blonde-haired lady several steps back as the young girl dived to the side. The lady, sensing something incongruent, like she was being watched, turned her head to the nearest rooftop to her left. There stood a man in a very old-timey black suit and a black top hat. On his face was an intricate gold theatre audience mask, hiding his features. He shook his head once, then pointed to the bullhead as if to say, 'Don't focus on me, focus on your fight'.

"Distracted by something?" The sound of a woman came from the bullhead above.

Boom!

A massive explosion that covered the entire roof burst like a sun flare, sending the young girl and the blonde lady to the charred roof.

"We need to get out of here! She's not going to survive much more!" The sound of the orange-haired man's loud shout could be heard over the roaring engines.

Then, the bullhead took off, flying quickly away.

Getting up, the two dusted themselves off from the charred ash that had gotten on them.

The blonde lady, thinking it wasn't over, looked to the rooftop where the well-dressed man was, only to see he had disappeared.

Things were getting strange, and she didn't like it one bit.

 

[ArsMagna1337]

Closers... Online fic!? In the year 2026!? Watched! I miss the game. Its servers in my country got shut down years ago. I love using the shielder of the game, Luna Aegis.

 

[Stimpak Medic]

Closers... Online fic!? In the year 2026!? Watched! I miss the game. Its servers in my country got shut down years ago. I love using the shielder of the game, Luna Aegis.

Click to shrink...

There's a new global version coming out on the 25th of this month. Maybe you'll be able to play it?