The Entropy (Kashimo Male Reader x Rwby)

Appearing as fast as lightning (revised)

The fractured moon cast jagged silver light across Vale's docks, its glow catching on the dust motes swirling around a seemingly abandoned warehouse. Inside, the scene defied logic - crates of Dust and stacks of Lien haphazardly filled every inch of space, while men in tailored tuxedos worked with frantic efficiency to empty it.

"Clock's ticking, gentlemen," growled their leader, his polished Oxfords crunching on scattered Lien notes. "Boat at Warehouse 67 - we're going aquatic."

A lanky thief paused mid-heist, wiping sweat from his brow. "Seriously, boss, why's Torchwick need this much Dust? Even scraped the bottom of the barrel hiring Junior's washouts."

A beefy colleague slammed another crate shut. "Thinking ain't on the paycheck, John."

John opened his mouth to retort when-

"Last load!" called another thief, hefting a bulging duffel. "Drinks are on me if we make it!"

Their celebration died as police sirens shredded the night air. Too soon - way too soon. The crew scrambled for the speedboat, their expensive shoes slipping on spilled Dust crystals.

"Vale PD!" came the mechanical bark of a megaphone. "Hands where we can see them or we paint the docks red!"

A new voice cut through the tension, young but crackling with authority. "That won't be necessary."

The officers turned to see a cyan-haired teenager stepping forward, his loose white robes fluttering in the harbor wind. Two clumsy braids framed a face marked by lightning-shaped scars beneath his eyes - not tattoos, but something that seemed to pulse with his breath.

The police chief exhaled a plume of cigar smoke. "Let the kid work."

"But sir-"

"That's Y/N Kashimo. Huntsman-in-training." The chief's grin showed yellowed teeth. "And frankly? I'd rather not be standing near him when he gets excited."

Y/N cracked his neck. "Try to keep the boat intact, right?"

Then he moved.

Electricity spiderwebbed across his skin as his Aura ignited, the concrete beneath him blackening and cracking in a fractal pattern. With a thunderclap of displaced air, he launched himself across the harbor-

-and landed in a crouch on the speedboat's deck.

The thieves froze. Their leader recovered first. "They won't shoot! This is Schnee Dust Company property - too valuable to risk!"

John chuckled nervously. "Gotta admit, Roman plans ahead."

Y/N's grin showed too many teeth. "Oh, Roman and I? We're practically pen pals."

Chaos erupted. Guns barked, blades flashed, but Y/N flowed between them like water. He plucked a 9mm bullet from the air, examining it with theatrical disappointment.

"Pathetic." The bullet pinged off the railing. "You brought pop guns to a lightning storm."

His fist connected with the shooter's jaw, sending the man cartwheeling toward the water's edge. John barely had time to raise his hands before Y/N's palm crushed his nose, then flipped him headfirst into the deck. Two more rushed him - one roundhouse kick sent both crashing through the wooden railings.

The leader's sword trembled in his grip. "So it's true. You fuse Lightning Dust with your Aura."

Y/N's entire body crackled, electricity arcing between his fingers. "Nah. This is all me."

With a roar, the leader charged. Y/N sidestepped each wild swing, then drove a fist into his gut. The man folded like paper, slamming into the bulkhead hard enough to dent steel.