Jaune woke to a soft pressure on his lips, too dazed to react as Pyrrha forced him back into the locker and slammed it shut, he cried out wordlessly as he was sent flying far, far away. He begged Weiss to save her, to save his partner, but knew, deep down, that she was dead already.
After all, he'd already seen this happen. It was his least favorite nightmare.
Jaune awoke to a soft pressure on his lips.
His eyes snapped open in horror. This time, as Pyrrha shoved him into the locker and sent him flying away, he cried out for a very different reason.
He begged Weiss, told her to be faster, told her to push, to run, but it was no good.
Jaune awoke to a soft pressure on his lips.
This time, having almost expected it, he acted. Grabbing a hold of Pyrrha's shoulders, he whirled around and threw her into the locker, whispering a near silent "I'm sorry," as she screamed out for him to stop, the metal groaning and creaking as she tried to force her way out. Thankfully for him, the lockers were made to be sturdy enough to survive extreme impacts. He punched in coordinates, and sent her flying away.
He waited with baited breath.
10 seconds.
20 seconds.
40 seconds.
A minute.
He had not reset
The breath he didn't know he was holding eased out of his lungs, whispering through his teeth as he turned to face the dark tower before him. He looked up towards the top, and saw her, the woman who had killed his partner, just in time for her arrow to embed itself in his forehead.
Jaune woke to a soft pressure on his lips.
Preview of my newest project. More to come.