A small girl in a red riding hood walked briskly down the cobbled street, music pulsing through her earphones. Her red cloak fluttered behind her like a flag in the wind as she moved to the beat, steps purposeful.
With a destination in mind, she pressed forward, humming softly to herself. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she reached the front of a shop with a flickering sign that read: From Dust till Dawn.
The bell above the door gave a cheerful ding as she stepped inside, the scent of metal and gun oil greeting her like an old friend.
She gave the shopkeeper a small wave before making her way to the back.
"Still got time to kill," she thought, slipping between shelves. "Might as well check out the new weapon magazines."
It wasn't every day she got to visit Vale. The trip wasn't short, and her schedule wasn't exactly light. So when she did make it out here? She made it count. And nothing beat flipping through glossy pages of the latest tech—new blade designs, scythe mods, Dust combos…
So distracted by the shiny new issue in her hands, she didn't hear the bell ring again. She didn't notice the shop slowly empty. She didn't feel the tension growing in the air.
Until someone tapped her shoulder.
She pulled one earphone out and turned.
"Oh hey—" she smiled. "You into weapon magazines too?"
The man in black tactical gear said nothing. Instead, he raised a baton-like weapon and pointed it at her chest.
"Hands up. You won't get hurt. That's your only warning."
She blinked. Then smiled wider.
"Oooh, classic batons? That's kinda vintage. Me? I'm more of a scythe girl."
The thug scowled. "I warned you, kid."
He swung. Fast.
She moved faster.
With a sharp thud, the man's body flew across the store, slamming into a shelf with a crash of glass and wood.
She dusted off her cloak, pouting. "Honestly. Doesn't anyone teach bad guys to be gentle with delicate flowers anymore?"
Two more men rounded the corner, weapons drawn.
"Don't move! Surrender now!"
"Whoa, whoa—okay, arms up!" she said, raising her hands and crouching down. "See? Nice and slow. No need to freak out."
But instead of surrendering, she dropped into a sprinter's pose.
Before either man could react, she exploded into a burst of swirling rose petals.
In a blink, she was between them.
Two palms to two faces.
Crash!
All three flew through the shop window, landing hard outside on the sidewalk. She twirled once, twice, and her compact weapon unfolded with a mechanical shhk-shhk-CHNK, revealing a massive, intricately designed scythe.
She planted it into the pavement. The concrete cracked under its weight as she leaned against it casually.
"Okay, now you're in serious trouble."
The remaining thugs stared, completely bewildered.
A slow clap broke the silence.
Roman Torchwick strolled out from the back, twirling his cane like it was a prop in a stage play.
"Well, well, well. That escalated quickly."
Ruby looked up, recognizing him instantly.
"You're… Roman Torchwick! The Dust thief! You're wanted in, like, three kingdoms!"
He gave a smug little bow. "Guilty as charged. Though I prefer visionary entrepreneur of alternative Dust acquisition. Much fancier."
"You're robbing this shop!" she said, tightening her grip on her scythe.
"Please," Roman scoffed, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "I'm repurposing underutilized energy sources for the betterment of my clients. It's called innovation."
"You're not getting away with any of it," Ruby warned.
Roman's gaze sharpened.
"You talk real big for someone who's not even a huntress," he said. "What are you—some student out past curfew?"
She didn't answer. She didn't have to.
Roman just chuckled and stepped back toward the shelves.
"Well, boys," he said, spinning on his heel, "I'd love to stay and tango, but I've got somewhere very important to be. Handle our little rosebud here, won't you?"
He snapped his fingers.
More masked goons emerged from the shadows, weapons trained on her.
He tipped his hat and disappeared behind a display.
Three thugs rushed Ruby at once.
She didn't flinch.
The first swung a crowbar. Ruby ducked and swept his legs in one smooth motion. The second followed fast, blade ready. She spun, caught his attack with her scythe's shaft, and kicked him in the chest—hard.
The third tried to grab her from behind.
She vaulted up and over him, landing gracefully. Then jabbed him in the back with her weapon's blunt end, sending him into a shelf.
More came, now five surrounding her, trying to coordinate.
"Classic flanking maneuver," Ruby muttered. "Cute."
One fired a Dust round. She flash-stepped in a whirl of petals, closing the distance and knocking him out with a flying heel to the head.
The rest fell in messy, scrambling order—each one overwhelmed by Ruby's precise movements and advanced skill. She wasn't just fighting—she was dancing through them, reading their moves, outpacing them at every turn.
Meanwhile, Roman Torchwick moved through the back of the shop, whistling to himself. He pressed a remote detonator, and a soft pop echoed above.
The rooftop access hatch blew open.
He didn't even glance back at the crates of stolen Dust. Half of it was still there—but that wasn't his problem anymore.
"Shame about the product," he muttered, climbing the ladder. "But at least I still look fabulous."
He stepped onto the roof, the lights of Vale glittering around him.
With a smirk and a running start, he leapt across to the next building, disappearing into the night.
Back at the shop, the last of the thugs hit the floor with a thud.
Ruby stood alone in the wreckage, breathing steady, her scythe resting at her side.
She looked toward the back room.
"He ran."
Of course he did.
She retracted her weapon with a metallic snap and turned toward the door as the wail of distant sirens drew closer.
"Coward."
~~Intermission Brought to you by Chibi Ruby surrounded by beaten up thugs~~
Red and blue lights flashed against the broken windows of From Dust till Dawn. The chaos had quieted, but the damage was clear—glass everywhere, shelves overturned, Dust canisters scattered like confetti from a very illegal parade.
Ruby stood outside the store, arms crossed, her cloak fluttering in the breeze. Her scythe was retracted and slung across her back, but the tension in her posture hadn't gone anywhere.
Two Vale police officers approached, one holding a notepad, the other giving her a once-over.
"You the one who stopped this mess?" one of them asked.
"Uh… yeah. I mean… I guess." Ruby scratched the back of her head. "They were robbing the place. I just sort of… reacted."
The older officer narrowed his eyes. "You got ID? Huntress license?"
Ruby froze for a second.
"Technically… no," she admitted. "But I am in training!"
The officers exchanged glances. "We're gonna need you to come with us for questioning. Can't have civilians jumping into—"
A sudden gust of wind swept past them.
A swirl of light particles shimmered in the air as a woman descended from a hovering transport, landing with the poise of someone who did not tolerate nonsense.
She wore a long black cloak over a green outfit, heels clicking as she approached. Her blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, and her eyes radiated calm authority behind narrow glasses.
Ruby's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped.
"Glynda Goodwitch…" she whispered, starstruck.
Glynda gave her a sharp look. "Miss Rose."
The officers straightened immediately. "Vice Principal Goodwitch, ma'am."
"I'll be taking it from here," Glynda said crisply. "The girl is a Beacon candidate. I'll personally ensure she is questioned and that her actions are reviewed thoroughly."
The officers didn't argue.
Ruby, meanwhile, was still recovering from the shock.
"You're her. You're actually you. You did that mission in Mountain Glenn, and that Dust storm interception in—ohmygosh you're taller in person and—" she cut herself off when Glynda raised a single eyebrow.
"Miss Rose," Glynda said sternly, "walk with me."
Ruby followed.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The buzz of the overhead lights filled the silence. The small, windowless room felt colder than it needed to be—just a table, two chairs, and the hum of security cameras overhead.
Ruby Rose sat with her hands in her lap, legs swinging just slightly off the floor. Her cloak was scuffed and torn near the bottom, a bit of soot on her cheek. Despite the fight being over, a nervous energy still clung to her like static.
The door creaked open.
Vice Principal Glynda Goodwitch stepped inside, composed as always. Her heels tapped sharply against the tile floor. She didn't speak right away—didn't need to. Her presence alone commanded enough weight.
Ruby straightened up instinctively. "Hi…"
Glynda didn't respond immediately. She closed the door behind her and approached the table, setting a tablet and folder down before sitting across from the girl.
"Miss Rose."
"Yes, ma'am."
A long pause stretched between them as Glynda observed Ruby closely. Then, in a tone calm but pointed:
"Do you understand how dangerous tonight's situation was?"
"I do," Ruby answered quickly, "and I'm sorry. I know I should've waited or called someone or—"
"But you didn't."
Ruby glanced down. "No. I didn't."
Glynda's expression didn't soften. If anything, it sharpened.
"You engaged a group of armed criminals, alone, in a public venue. You used advanced combat techniques in a densely populated area, and you did so without a Huntress license."
"I know," Ruby said quietly. "But people were in danger. I couldn't just stand there."
"You acted on impulse," Glynda replied, folding her arms, "not training. That's the kind of decision that gets people killed."
Ruby flinched but didn't argue.
"And while you might possess the skill of a licensed Huntress," Glynda continued, "you are not one yet. That distinction matters."
A moment passed.
Glynda exhaled through her nose and leaned back slightly.
"You were accepted into Beacon Academy early because of your performance in the entrance trials… and because of your lineage."
Ruby's eyes flicked up.
"Your father set a high bar. A legacy like his does not go unnoticed. But you are not him. And you are not above the rules."
"I'm not trying to be," Ruby said softly. "I just… wanted to do the right thing."
There was a flicker of something in Glynda's eyes—approval, maybe, but wrapped tightly beneath layers of restraint.
"You will return home for now," she said. "Your scheduled start at Beacon remains unchanged. Three months from today, you will report as a first-year student. No sooner."
Ruby nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Glynda stood, smoothing down the front of her coat.
"Headmaster Ozpin has been informed of tonight's events. He expects great things from you, Miss Rose."
Ruby blinked, surprised. "He does?"
"Don't give him a reason to reconsider," Glynda said simply.
She walked to the door, then paused, hand on the handle.
"Just because you can fight like a Huntress doesn't mean you're ready to face the world like one."
Ruby looked down again.
"But you will be," Glynda added, before exiting the room and leaving Ruby with a lot more than just silence.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Shrouded in shadows, a long-forgotten storage hall beneath Vale's industrial sector—one where whispers echoed louder than footsteps and secrets could hang in the air like smoke. Thick curtains blocked out all trace of the outside world, and a single hanging light buzzed dimly above the center of the room, casting more gloom than illumination.
In that haze, four chairs sat arranged around a round table, each occupied by a figure who commanded a piece of Vale's criminal empire.
Three of them were already there.
Don Galdoro reclined in his seat, puffing on not one but two cigars clenched between his thick fingers. His rotund frame was packed into a finely tailored pinstripe suit, and a well-worn fedora shadowed his sharp, calculating eyes. The dark beard across his chin was neatly trimmed, his fingers heavy with rings that clicked quietly when he tapped them against his drink.
"My dear dust distributor, Torchwick," he said, his voice rolling like syrup over gravel. "Sit~sit. It's always a pleasure to have you around."
Roman Torchwick stepped into the light with the sort of casual arrogance that only someone truly dangerous—or dangerously lucky—could wear like a coat.
"Of course, Don Galdoro. How could I refuse the boss of the Salvanni Family?" Roman said with a tip of his hat. His trademark cane clicked rhythmically with each step as he moved to the empty chair.
From across the table, a soft voice spoke with edge beneath its calm.
"So the thief is here. Isn't it about time for us to meet the person who gathered all of us?"
She was known only as Lady Shia—a Faunus with nightshade-blue hair and matching fox ears. Her face remained veiled, but her presence radiated elegance, precision, and silent threat. Her robes were sleek and ceremonial, worn by the leader of a Faunus syndicate that spanned from the ports of Vale to the darker corners of Mistral.
Roman placed a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. "You wound me, my lady. I'm punctual! Mostly."
Before another word passed between them, the fourth voice entered the fray.
A metallic thrum accompanied the low, mechanical growl of Vex Stahl.
"Now that Torchwick is here," he said, his voice like a rusted saw dragged across metal, "it's only a matter of time before they arrive."
Vex's frame was more machine than man, his limbs forged from dark chrome, his face hidden behind a helmet with glowing blue optics. The leader of Vale's underground tech-trafficking ring, Vex was known for ruthless efficiency and terrifying upgrades—both for himself and his soldiers.
The four waited.
The room grew heavier by the second.
Then, footsteps.
Precise. Deliberate. Feminine.
From behind the curtain, a woman stepped into the light.
She moved with the grace of a serpent and the certainty of a queen. Her golden eyes cut through the dim like daggers. A black and crimson outfit hugged her form like battle armor and formal wear in equal parts.
Cinder Fall.
"I thank you all for coming," she said, each word wrapped in velvet and steel.
Even Galdoro stopped puffing his cigars.
Lady Shia tilted her head slightly in curiosity.
Vex's optics whirred and focused.
Torchwick simply grinned and leaned back.
"Well now," he murmured, "the plot thickens."
She said no names. No affiliations. Only what was necessary.
"There is a shift coming to this city. A storm that will reshape everything from the gutters to the palaces. You are here because you will be part of that change. Each of you has power. But power alone does not guarantee survival. Or success."
"And what does?" Galdoro asked, squinting through the smoke.
"Vision," Cinder replied, a flame licking the edge of her voice. "And obedience."
No one spoke after that.
Not because they were afraid.
But because deep down, each of them sensed it—
Something much bigger had just begun.
Far above the chaos to come, among the lofty towers of Beacon Academy, the air was still.
Professor Ozpin stood at the window of his office, cradling a mug of steaming coffee between both hands. His gaze drifted over the horizon where Vale glittered beneath the setting sun, the last rays of light touching glass towers and casting long shadows across the streets below.
He felt it.
A pressure.
An unease that had no form but whispered nonetheless.
The elevator behind him chimed.
The doors opened, and Glynda Goodwitch entered, clipboard in hand, heels clicking smartly on the polished stone floor. She approached with practiced poise, eyes studying the man at the window.
"You've been up here for quite some time," she noted. "Is something wrong?"
Ozpin didn't turn. His voice came quiet, pensive.
"…Nothing concrete."
"But?"
He finally looked toward her, the light reflecting off his glasses. His expression remained calm, but behind it was a depth of thought few ever saw.
"I fear the winds are shifting. Something is coming, Glynda."
Glynda frowned. "You believe it's tied to the recent thefts?"
Ozpin's fingers tightened around his mug slightly.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps something greater. A change… not so favored for us."
She stood silently beside him, both of them watching as the last light of day dipped below the horizon.
"Should I alert the others?"
Ozpin shook his head gently. "Not yet. We don't act on shadows. Not until we know what shape they take."
"As you wish." Glynda turned back toward the elevator. "Still, I'll have the teams on standby."
"Thank you."
The doors closed behind her.
Ozpin stood alone again, the twilight deepening outside.
He took a sip of his coffee.
Still warm. Still familiar.
But something in the world had turned.
And it had only just begun to show its face.
A/N: Hello and welcome to my story this is the end of chapter 1. Hope you enjoyed the building up of the setting, and atmosphere. As you've probobly noticed this is a retelling of the rwby story using different elements to build up the world and the story. For all those who have found this story I hope you are able to enjoy this as much as possible. I will continue to try my best to build up these new characters and continue developing the OG guys from the RWBY series. Thank you for picking this up! <3
A/N 2: I haev combined chapter 1 and 2 to give the story a better flow of things for those who have been here and seen that this is why but if you're new don't worry about this. <3