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DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE FATE FRANCHISE OR RWBY

Emiya Shirou stared back at him through the reflection in the puddle. The countless bodies of the shadowy creatures had started to vanish, strangely enough.

Archer chuckled. Donning the face of the one he hated the most wasn't something he had planned, nor was it something he wanted. The bronze skin and snowy white hair he had grown used to over the countless centuries as a counter guardian were now gone. His height and muscle mass had also taken a blow, he was now the spitting image of his seventeen year old self.

Despite all of this, his heroic spirit garments had remained a perfect fit, right down to the holy shroud which still clung to his arms regardless of his change. His body still felt foreign after being an adult for so long, but he could adjust to something as small as that. The real problem was that he was reminded of his mistake every painful second, just by existing in this form.

After glancing away, he had given thought to why he was here. He moved of his own accord and felt no sense of urgency, which meant that he wasn't carrying out a job for Alaya. In fact, her presence was gone entirely. Not just that, as far as he could tell, he was himself, not some copy of his actual self sent to fight in his stead.

In that moment, the feeling of freedom had enveloped Archer. Something akin to joy and excitement threatened to drive its way into his heart, stopping only when he caught it and drove it out.

There was a reason for his situation, and when he found it, all of the positive feelings he had would turn into regret alongside more resentment for his younger self.

Still, taking everything odd about this moment into account, Archer found it difficult to not entertain the thought of freedom, regardless of how ridiculous and impossible it seemed.

In this moment, his logical self battled a part of himself that was thought to have died forever ago. It was because of something he had lost after death. Spending countless ages killing those he saught to save tore him apart and killed any semblance of hope he had.

Maybe he was getting soft with age somehow.

Another chuckle broke through, his cool demeanor being overwhelmed with unexplainable feelings.

To think that Rin, someone he had already met before in his own life, had this much influence on him after the 'second' time they met.

Though, even with the newfound hope inside, he had to remember the possibility- no, 'fact' that he wasn't here without a catch. He made a contract with the collective will of humanity and the last time he checked, contracts don't just fade away, especially not one of this scale.

If Alaya wasn't messing with him, then something definitely was. In the end, he would probably just end up back at the hill of swords, waiting for his next cleaning session as humanity's own janitor. He'd go back to being a puppet for Alaya once she came back with new strings.

Yeah, there was no way he was here alive again. After all, something like that would have to be...

Magic

Archer kept walking forward, the muddy path of the dirt road causing his boots to sink slightly. He knew that if he followed the road, he'd find a settlement of some sort. If not, he'd without a doubt cross paths with another living being sometime soon, or a house of some sort beyond the trees that towered over him.

Then again, while this place was large and perfect for a settlement, Archer could think of one thing that would keep people from making a living here. He thought back to the creatures he fought earlier. The malice and hatred they contained as they tried their very best to tear him apart.

If the creatures he had killed were common around this area, or anywhere else, that would definitely drive away any civilization.

One of his concerns were whether or not they spoke any language Archer could understand. Still, he knew a wide range of different languages, so there was still a chance that he'd be able to communicate with any nearby humans.

Archer raised his head higher into the air, staring at the far off end of the sky as he took in the scent of something familiar.

Fire

Knowing that it was coming from straight ahead, Archer reinforced his body and dashed forward at full speed. Eyes widened as he realized something that should have been obvious.

Archer wasn't a heroic spirit anymore.

He didn't realize it in his previous battle against the creatures because he was in a bit of a daze. His speed was significantly lower not only because he was younger, but because he was a human again. Even so, it didn't really matter to him, but it was still rather surprising.

With this in mind, he technically couldn't call himself 'Archer' anymore. Well, not in the sense that he usually did. The fact that he was an actual bow-wielding archer, unlike many of the herioc spirits in said catagory, saved him the rights to the title.

His sprint was still faster than a vehichle, so he had more than enough capability to make it to his destination.

Seeing an orange light peeking through the trees, Archer made haste until he spotted the source.

A Village.

What used to be walls were now pikes of fire, what used to be houses were now mere kindling. From the inside, it was probably fire as far as the eye could see. The sight was very similar to one of his only remaining memories from his lifetime.

Dashing straight into the raging inferno, Archer scanned the area, taking note of what he saw.

Many of the creatures he had saw earlier had infected the area. Men dressed in rags and leather ran around, swords and daggers in hand. Neither of the two factions appeared to be good. What he assumed to be the residents of the village were either dead or being chased around by the invaders.

Tracing his favored swords, Archer maintained his sprint.

If the creatures had been watching, all they would have saw was a blur of red and black before everything started to look like the latter. One after another, wolf, bear, or whatever had fallen to the ground only a second after Archer had passed them.

Straight ahead, he caught sight of another one of the wolf-like creatures. This one appeared to be different though. For one, it could see and react to his movements. And then there was the abnormal amount of bone armor in comparison to its brethren.

Skidding to a halt, Archer jumped back into the air, throwing the married blades straight at the foul beast. Flipping back, his momentum carried over and landed his feet onto a tiled rooftop, the practiced motion feeling more forced in his younger body. Watching from his postition, he saw the blades spinning through the air before cutting into the wolf-like creature, splitting it into three.

Satisfied, Archer dispelled the married swords and called upon something else entirely. A crackling of blue light forced its way into existence before extending horizontally. Remaining thin, it took the shape of something large before disappearing. In the wake of the blue energy remained Archer's favored artillery bow.

Of course, Archer wouldn't be able to draw it back all the way in this body, but he didn't need to. He wasn't going to fire noble phantasms, so he modified the draw weight with alteration, making it lighter as he traced an arrow in his free hand.

Taking sight of nearly a dozen the invading soldiers scattered around a clearing, some of the men were trying to break into a few of the standing houses, which no doubt sheltered several villagers inside. Archer turned the bow upright and nocked the arrow. Lining up the shot with the man furthest from the group, he pulled the bowstring back before releasing it.

The arrow soared throughout the air silently before it pierced through his skull, blood splattering out of the point of entry and exit alike. His body fell to the ground, his equipment clattering over the concrete in the process. The noise, however slight it was, didn't go unnoticed by a few of the men closer to the scene.

Even though many of them were now alerted, it was too late. Archer traced another arrow, repeating the same process with a new target and so on. His firing speed was beyond anything humanly possible, each of the men falling within less than seconds of each other.

If he had to guess, Archer would say that it took five seconds to eliminate all of his targets.

After confirming that there were no remaining enemies, Archer looked to the tallest building in the area and jumped onto it with reinforced strength. After which, he stood at the edge of the flattened rooftop to eliminate any remaining threats with his arrows.

It was only after there were none left that an interesting thought passed his mind.

This was very similar to his Counter Guardian work, he was dropped off next to a disaster after all.

But Alaya would only summon him to clean up a mess that threatened humanity. Unless... was this place special in some way? Was there perhaps something or someone inside of it that was vital to the survival of humanity?

No, that couldn't be it. Alaya wouldn't give him the reigns, and he wouldn't be human, let alone his younger-self. Which meant that this was most likely not the work of Alaya.

But then what was it that brought him here?

Archer sighed, scanning the village for survivors before jumping down from the building.

Ozpin closed his eyes, feeling the relief of rest wash over them instantly. Raising the rim of his coffee mug to his lips, he raised it and let the warm liquid flow into his mouth.

Right on time, his assistant came walking over, carrying a small stack of papers along with a professional demeanor.

"I take it those are the reports from yesterday's situation?"

Glynda set the stack down neatly over the desk in front of the headmaster. "Yes, as strange as they may be."

Ozpin nodded, setting the mug down on the other side of the wooden surface. "I take that to mean something peculiar has happened?" He asked, raising one of the sheets to his face.

"Yes." Glynda nodded, lifting two of her fingers up to her glasses to make adjustments. "As it turns out, a huntsman had arrived and managed reduced the number of casualties."

"'A huntsman?'" Ozpin questioned.

Glynda nodded once more. "It was worrysome to hear about initial reports sent from our hunter squad, especially since the situation was urgent. However, according to their latest word, the villagers had already been rescued by a huntsman."

Ozpin took another sip from the mug, placing it down as he spared a glance at his assistant. "Did they perhaps ask the residents anything else about their mysterious savior?"

Glynda met his eyes, holding out another paper, this one appearing a little different. "According to some of the survivors who were conscious during the attack, he used a bow."

Ozpin took the bottom of the paper between his thumb and index finger, bringing it closer to look at the image.

It was a child's drawing. A young girl in a blue dress stood with her mother who wore a white dress. Together over a bed of flowers, they were happily cheering for something on the far left of the picture. A man dressed in green, wielding a bow and arrow, a caption over his head reading 'Daddy'. However, it wasn't any of this that caught Ozpin's attention, it was what stood next to the girl's apparent father in the drawing.

A man dressed in black and red, a larger black bow in his hand. He stood next to the girl's father, slaying what looked to be creatures of grimm. Over his head was another caption, one carrying a rather simplistic title.

'Archer'

"Would I be right to assume the one in red is the Huntsman?" Ozpin asked.

Glynda nodded a third time today. "You would. They say he stayed behind and safe guarded everyone until the Hunters we sent appeared. Apparently, he left just as they arrived."

Was he trying to stay hidden? "How convenient." Ozpin lowered the paper, looking to Glynda. "There must be something else, otherwise this would be a normal case."

Glynda walked around to the other side of the desk. Now being capable of making eye contact with the headmaster, she did so. "He was young." Seeing Ozpin quirk a brow, she continued. "Too young, actually. Some of the villagers stated that he couldn't be any older than eighteen."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed, the image of Glynda shrinking behind the inside of his mug as he drank from it. Finding the mug to be empty after a few sips, he placed it down on the desk yet again. "This is indeed interesting. I look forward to hearing the story behind this one."

Reaching for the empty mug, he grasped it and stood from his chair. "Let me know if you hear anything else about this mysterious huntsman, Glynda."

Turning around, he faced the window, staring out into the vast world for a mere moment. Somewhere out there was a mystery, a potential ally or enemy. Without a doubt, Ozpin knew they'd cross paths.

AN:

Hey there! You made it! All the way through and all! Well... it was only 2,000 or so words. You aren't cavemen, right?

Ah! If only Dal were here, I'd like to see what kind of glare I'd get for leaking a story early. Well, not like it matters. After all, Dal is far too lazy to do anything about it.

Though, you must be confused about something... Who am I?- What? You don't care? Then- GET OUT.

I'm new here, a permanent addition! Now if only I could get my hands on that BOLD letter button, I look so bland! Oh well, it doesn't matter... Because...

We're going to have SO! MUCH! FUN!