Hello everyone! RedImperium here. Thanks to all of your input, I've decided to undertake the re-write. A few heads-up; this will still be a Male Reader insert story, however without the POV changes. It will remain in the third-person, and as for dialogue, I'll be changing my formatting.
Now here's the new description:
"(Y/N) (L/N), a Japanese-Canadian 38-year old 1st Lieutenant in Canada's JTF2, has survived countless encounters over his long 8-year career. From fighting a small army of terrorists alone when in the Canadian Army, to parachuting into a crossfire between two American spec-ops units, one rogue, the other allied while in JTF2.
Having planned to retire from the special forces in 2019, he and his squad were called in to investigate a supposed 'uprising' in an allied African nation. At first glance, it would seem as if they were going to enter combat with armed insurgents.
They couldn't be more wrong.
Upon arrival, they found detachments of different special forces as well as highly skilled mercenaries firing into a horde of civilians, whom were infected by an unknown virus.
By 2021, the virus had taken the world, leaving very few survivors, (Y/N) being one of them.
It is now 2026.
Venture forth as you survive in the apocalyptic world along with mysterious powers obtained from an accident... and eventually find yourself in a very different place..."
Anyways, now that that's been dealt with, I hope you'll enjoy this 'new' beginning to your adventures.
*Please note that any pictures I may use aren't owned by me, unless I state otherwise, and since this is an alternate RWBY universe, I may change things in accordance to your sudden appearance in their world (example: White Fang may be featured more often as (Y/N) goes out on a one man rampage, etc.)
Enjoy!
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On a highway, in the Canadian countryside, a repurposed black Ford Mustang was roaring down the asphalt, weaving in and out of the numerous abandoned, totalled cars. This car had seen better days as it was riddled with holes... rather its armour plating, which was salvaged from old shipping containers. On the front, a medium sized ram resembling a steam train's plow was riveted, and welded on for extra reinforcement. The windows were also covered with armour plating, already enhancing the protective capacity the bulletproof windows provided. Said windows were salvaged from an old armoured car belonging to a stereotypical rich prick. The tires were also ripped straight off of an old Jeep which was filled with the torn up, bloody remains of fleeing US civilians, including one soldier whose weapons were all weapons empty.
Inside the Mustang, dubbed 'Road Warrior' due to the occupant's interest in the Mad Max franchise, a lone soldier sat, a grim expression stamped all over his scarred face. His silver eyes shone brightly as the sun looked down on him, his graying (H/C) hair held a recently cut look to it.
The man gripped the steering wheel tightly as he looked over to his right, looking over the empty space that once held seats but now contained his survival gear which included his primary weapon, a heavily modified custom C8A3, his sidearm, a Sig Sauer P226. Combined with the two, the former JTF2 Lieutenant had a tactical combat knife, two remaining flashbang grenades as well as two frag grenades. Other gear included a large jerrycan, a sleeping bag, a tent, and a winter coat, all of which was stuffed into a big bag, minus the jerrycan.
The soldier then looked ahead once more, noticing a small group of humanoid figures shuffling in the middle of the road. Squinting his eyes slightly, the man identified them to be just another group of undead stragglers left behind the main horde. Placing more pressure on the gas pedal, the soldier accelerated his car and slammed into the undead creatures, causing them to have their skulls smashed open against the armoured hood of the Mustang.
The man smiled slightly to himself as he continued driving along the highway towards Exit 66; the town of Casselman.
Though it just wouldn't be... at any point in time everything breaks, even people. Though this time, it wasn't the soldier whom had stayed alone for five years. It was his iron steed.
With clacking and coughing as well as smoke originating from the car, the soldier exited it with annoyance present on his face. The car had finally keeled over and died. Sighing heavily, the soldier extracted his gear from his car. Slipping on the big survival pack first, the man then reached for his signature gear piece; a steel helmet merged with a tactical gasmask. On the interior, the name "(Y/N) (L/N)" was written. On the mask part, a skull was painted on for extra intimidating effect.
Reaching in once more, (Y/N) procured his P226 'Old Reliable' pistol his C8A3 'Hellfire' assault rifle, and his knife; 'Midnight'. Suddenly noticing that he had forgotten to load his weapons, (Y/N) unloaded the empty magazine from the C8A3 and spun it around in his hand. Once he peered back inside, the maximum amount of bullets had appeared. Satisfied, the soldier proceeded to do the same with his pistol, as well as the extra magazines he had. Those extra magazines, however were referred to as 'Quick Load Mags' due to the possibility of having a relatively high rate of fire instead of having to slow down in order to spin the empty magazine and reload that way.
Once fully prepared, (Y/N) poured the remaining gas from the jerrycan onto, inside and around the car. Then with a miniature flame that appeared in (Y/N)'s hand, the car would meet its end. As (Y/N) walked away, the car detonated soon after, sending fragments of steel and other pieces hurtling towards the sky.
An hour later, (Y/N) finally reached the town with little problem. He walked up the ramp and went to his right where an old motel as well as a gas station were located. Seeing the roof of the motel as a prime location to set up camp for the night, (Y/N) made his way there.
He spotted a group of scavengers in the distance, however they weren't bothering him. Not wanting to kill anyone yet, (Y/N) snuck to the motel. Once there, he saw a few undead shuffling around the place. A few he could handle with just a knife. (Y/N) walked casually, dropped his bag hard onto the ground, attracting the undead towards him. Then with swift precision, (Y/N) slashed at their heads. The result was a bloody knife and six highly rotted corpses.
Entering the building, (Y/N) found a few undead which were dispatched quickly. The motel was quite creepy when shrouded in darkness, though the blood, guts and other remains were not helping to brighten the atmosphere. A few minutes in, (Y/N) found himself staring at a doll that closely resembled the one he gave his sister.
(S/N) was a bright and bubbly girl. She loved chatting and playing around with people. She was very friendly, though quite shy around those she was unfamiliar with. Being just one year older than (Y/N), she was the eldest of the (L/N) family after their parents perished due to a terror attack.
Both siblings had been there. Both witnessed their parents fall to the ground as bullets riddled their bodies. Both survived. One recovered, the other, sought vengeance.
(Y/N) at first was very much like his sister: chatty, friendly and overall pleasant to be around. The day his parents died, he knew immediately what he'd do. He joined the cadets at age 14 and from there, he went onwards to the army while balancing his academic performance with his job. Thanks to his tougher-than-steel discipline, (Y/N) graduated at the top of both his highschool and college.
When he eventually learned of JTF2, (Y/N) went to university in order to get the necessary skills for the job. Again, he graduated top of his class. This caught the attention of the higher-ups in charge of the Canadian Armed Forces. They noticed (Y/N)'s determination, his fierceness, and his willingness to risk everything (including family life). In the end, (Y/N) got a place in the elite force in his nation.
Just like his academic performance, (Y/N) knew successes whenever he went on missions; the hostages were rescued unscathed, a terrorist sect was dismantled and destroyed, a drug/human trafficking ring was wiped out completely and an attack on Parliament Hill was prevented. On the second to last year of his career, (Y/N) embarked on a mission that would change his life completely.
He and his squad was to intervene in another standard terrorist/hostage situation. It went completely normal until a suicide bomber took out (Y/N) and a bunch of the hostages. The then sergeant had luckily escaped death, but at a price. The bomb blast was strong enough to bring down a lot of debris, much of it was either heavy or jagged.
Whether it was either one or a mix of both, (Y/N) lost his right arm.
Determined to not let that end his career, the young man demanded he get the strongest and most advanced prosthetic arm available. Once he obtained it, he wasted no time in rehabilitating himself. Eight months later, (Y/N) was combat ready once more.
Near the end of 2019, (Y/N) had planned to retire, however he was sent to Africa along with his squad to investigate a large-scale conflict. To their surprise, they found a mix of American, British, German and mercenary forces firing upon civilians. Once told on what was happening, the Canadians gave their help.
In a last ditch effort, a nuclear weapon was used on the 'undead' as they were being called. (Y/N) unfortunately was caught in the blast, though miraculously, he survived. As a result of the exposure to intense heat and radiation, (Y/N) developed the abilities to control fire, regenerate wounds (also even come back from his own ashes once killed, though (Y/N) doesn't know it yet ) and generate his own ammunition. The one thing that surprised him the most was that he no longer had (E/C) eyes, instead they were now silver. Having fully recovered, no wounds remaining (much to the doctor's surprise), (Y/N) walked out of the hospital within a week.
By 2020, things started to go downhill. The undead began appearing in Asia, Europe and the Americas. Everything was thrown into chaos; families torn apart figuratively and literally, armies and police forces crumbled, arsonists worsened things by raising the death toll, and the numbers of the undead kept growing unrelentingly.
Finally breaking his line of thought, (Y/N) proceeded to climb to the roof of the motel. Once situated up on the roof, (Y/N) pulled out his small tent and put it up. He then placed his sleeping bag inside, and ate a salvaged MRE before falling asleep.
So, what did you think? Please let me know, alright? Anyways, the next chapter will be out soon, I can guarantee it!
Have a great rest of your day!
-RedImperium