AX-50 (Male reader x Girls' Frontline x RWBY)

AX-50

Legends. Myths 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 Grimm - 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.

But 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.

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


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The darkness of night encircled the streets of Vale. Under the mere flickering light of the streetlamps, a lone hooded figure could be seen walking down the streets, having a kick at occasional rocks as he walked by, murmuring to himself.

"I can't believe they sent me! ME! Of all the people they could've chosen, they chose the one guy who couldn't defend himself and sent him off to get groceries.  And at this time of night!" The hooded figure shouts indignantly, brushing his hood off his head to prevent overheating. Under the hood was a male, looking around 16-17ish with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes, still sporting that indignant look on his face. This character is you. "Geez, why couldn't SOP ll have gone instead? It's way less risky having her go on these shopping trips... then again she doesn't like shopping and goes all feral whenever we try to tell her to go."

(Y/N) monologues in his head, thinking about the AR Team who were probably resting back at the apartment, well at least M4 probably was... She's the only sensible one on the AR Team. Sensible, albeit a little shy, but sensible nonetheless.

Then you have someone like SOP ll, energetic, hyperactive, and a complete and total sadist. Honestly, that girl scares you sometimes, but you still think of her highly nonetheless. Next comes AR-15. Calm and collected, AR-15 likes to do things her own way, unfortunately, that is. She's conscious about being a civilian weapon.

And last but not least, M4's big sister, M16. Now, M16 is probably the best and most experienced member of the AR team, always there as a backbone for everyone. And then there's (Y/N) himself, or rather, AX-50. (Y/N) was just a name he picked up that he liked the sound of it. He was the glass cannon of the team, being able to dish out huge amounts of chaos and destruction with only a few shots of his Sniper. In close quarters, he was good, but not nearly good enough to fight on multiple attackers.

But little did he know, as he was reminiscing about his whole team, there was a dust robbery going on in the store just up the road and unfortunately (Y/N) only noticed it when a man came flying through the window, followed by... A girl with a scythe almost 2 times taller than her. Now it wasn't uncommon to see massive weapons at this day and age, but it was the little Red Riding Hood appearance that had thrown (Y/N) off.

A Ginger holding a cane and wearing a bowler hat, who (Y/N) could immediately identify as Roman Torchwick, a nefarious criminal.

 "Okayyy... get her!" The ginger gestures towards the girl, as a heap of goons rush out from the store and towards the girl, who begins fighting them off with her massive scythe. Watching from a distance, (Y/N) starts fumbling around his waist, having seemingly forgotten something.