1 The Beginning

The wind blew hard as the marble casket was lowered into the ground. Mathew could hardly look at it as the harsh sun blindingly reflected off of it. He could feel the tears roll down his face, yet he didn't care. He continued to let the tears flow.

Today he had a reason; his father's funeral. The death was a tragedy. An experiment gone wrong. Mathew swiped golden locks of hair away from his cold silver eyes as he backed away. He could slip away now, while no one was watching. Yeah. He'd come back later. He couldn't bear to see the nearly empty rows of seats around him, reminding him how isolated the Marshalls family had been since his mother's death when he was six.

And now, only a week ago, he had lost his father. He had a brother. Two, actually, but he had only ever known Braig, the middle child of the family. The eldest brother had dissapeared long before Mathew's birth. Braig left shortly after Mathew had been born. In all points of view, Mathew was alone.

He left swiftly, going unnoticed as he snuck away. He walked without a destination, letting his feet carry him wherever they wished. Minutes passed, then hours. A full moon graced a night sky that was littered with stars by the time he reached a destination. It was a large facility colored a dull black and white.

Half a mile, and around forty stories tall, the facility held an importance to Mathew. A ten foot wall surrounded it, the top buzzing from the elecricity surging throughout. He approached the security booth, and waved to the guard inside.

"Hey Steven." He greeted, gaining the attention of the burly hispanic man monitering the cameras throughout the oversized facility.

"Mathew!" The man exclaimed; "Wouldn't have expected you here at L.O.F.E. today..."

The boy in question shrugged.

"I'm sorry about what happened esé. Here, you outta have this."

Steven passed him an access card.

"Lab 84. Be careful...they haven't finished cleaning yet. It's a mess in there. And don't tell no one I letcha in amigo."

"Thanks Steve."

"No problemo kid."

< * >

Mathew pried open the metal door, peaking into the dull gray room. Police tape practically covered the room, along with the many taped outlines of bodies. Bodies, yet no blood. Not even stains. Perhaps they had done a better job cleaning than normal.

This was an important place after all.

Mathew felt a chill as he finally entered. His father had died here. One of these outlines was his. It was a rectangular room, with the entrance at the far end of the long wall. At the opppsote end of the room sat an odd machine. The boy took notice of it's backpack-esque appearance. It was black, with a glowing purple trim. The straps formed an X, and all connected in the center. It also connected like a belt at the bottom, which confused Mathew. He stepped towards it, and slowly began to reach for it when-

"I wouldn't touch that."

Mathew turned on his heels, startled at the sudden voice.

A tall, middle aged man stood at the entrance of the room, staring blankly at him, and stroking his scruffy white goatee. "That's what caused all of...." The man, who Mathew recognized only from his father's stories, was Christoph McCoy, the CEO of L.O.F.E.

Christoph began to approach him, waving his left hand towards the mess of a room, while his right hand ran through his thinning white locks of hair.

"...this."

"A...backpack...?" Mathew questioned. How had that strange little thing killed his father? Christoph picked up the machine, and turned it over again and again. "Not just a backpack, Mathew. Rather...a very important invention from an old friend of mine. He left it to me in his will, but never explained what it was..."

The man let out a great sigh.

"Had I known this would have happened, I'd have not given your father the greenlight to research it.

"So then..." Matt began, only for Christoph to continue.

"We didn't know why he had made it, so we certainly didn't know it was a weapon."

He stopped, knowing Mathew would need a second to process this. Then he began again.

"Those symbols on the side...

They mean something. I just don't know what."

The teen took a peek at the side of the pack, and sure enough symbols lined it in a glowing magenta.

☽✑☫☬ஃΞ✇☩

"Mathew...would you accompany me to my office?" Christoph requested, putting the device down. "I would like..." The man stopped for a moment, thinking. He quickly snapped back to reality, and continued.

"...to give you something."

< * >

"What is...?"

Christoph held the katana higher, and spoke in a joking tone. "It's a katana, Mathew. Have you never watched anime?"

Mathew internally groaned. He had indeed watched many of the Japanese animations in question, but why would Christoph want to give him a katana?

"Don't answer that. Your father told me how much you love...what was it called....uh...Rudy?"

"RWBY."

"Rooby, riiiiight....

He wanted you to have this.

All three of us did. Did you know that we completed this sword ten minutes before Robert got the call that your mother was giving birth?"

Mathew wasn't sure how to feel at this point. But if his father had wanted him to have the katana, there was no question whether or not. He would take it.

But a single thought loomed over the others.

"What about the backpack? How did it...? You know?"

Christoph blinked once, and took a sudden interest in the bland white wallpaper of his office.

Mathew followed his gaze, and only now noticed the circular office was devoid of any and all decoration. The mahogany desk in the back, and it's three chairs served as the only items in the room.

Finally, Christoph spoke, his voice cracking. "Robert...and the rest of his team...well...it wasn't bloody. There were no explosions. No flying limbs. No lasers, blades, or magic.

The symbols began to glow blindingly, and then they all dropped. We couldn't make sense out of any of it..."

He tapped the wood desk with his right pointer finger.

"...but we won't stop our research until we know the cause."

< * >

Raindrops splashed against the concrete, forming puddles in potholes, and mud in the grass.

But Mathew payed no heed to the rain as he ran. The katana was sheathed, and strapped to his back. He held the backpack-like device in his hands as he fled L.O.F.E.'s premise. Minutes passed before he came across a seemingly abandoned factory.

The brick building had long since caved in, and was overgrown with plant life. As he approached, the backpack began to vibrate. Swallowing his fear, he pushed forward, and entered the building. Pentagrams littered the walls and floor, and multiple candles had been stacked in the corner. The backpack began to vibrate more violently as Mathew placed it in the center of a pentagram. He took a few steps backwards, and, his breath hitched in his throat, he unsheathed the katana Christoph had given him. His grip tightened, and, quickly, he swung downwards.

Then his world shattered.