He failed. He failed to protect her. He failed to keep the only people who had every truly believed in him safe.
The blonde looked upwards to the shattered moon, it illuminating the growing pool of crimson beneath his hunched form. He sputtered, trying to form a semblance of would likely be his final words.
"Pitiful, how did they even let you in? Ozpin was far more of a fool then I gave him credit." The black haired bitch stepped forward, the flame in her hand warming the crisp air around the remnants of Beacon's Tower. Jaune bore his eyes into her amber, a look of defiance and spite.
Blood split from his mouth as he tried to muster the strength to speak, difficult considering the mangled sheet of metal protruding through his chest. He felt the drying path of tears grow wet as he stared back at the woman who had taken his first friend and the woman who loved him.
With the last bit of air left in the young student Jaune Arc spoke for the last time.
"F-fuck you"
Death felt off to the blonde. There was nothing but darkness and yet, he could swear he felt a sort of tugging sensation in his chest. There was nothing no sound, no smell, just the feeling of being pulled by almost a rope.
Jaune felt the grip around him tighten, as if he were being squeezed like a grape in a vice. The tugging grew to a drag and without warning Jaune felt himself flung like a ragdoll into the abyss. Then he impacted what he could assume was the limit of his confinement.
Birds. That was the first thing he had heard. Jaune shot up looking about his surroundings. He was greeted to a view of a massive bridge, spanning across what could be a channel, frantically searching Jaune couldn't find much that fit within his memory of Vale, the only thing that looked similar was the concrete entrenchment behind him. He scrambled to his feet unsure of what to do.
Then his memories came to him. Pyrrah's last words to struck him like a brick, "I'm sorry".
The boy felt as if the world began to compress around him, his head flooding with images of a shattered scythe and piles of ash. They were gone, he let them die. He let them go up to fight that amber eyed murder. He couldn't stop them.
"Uh you alright there?" Jaune looked up to the voice, a man with hair longer then his shoulder and a beard to rival Port's stared back. "You blitzed man?" The man asked again. "I'm, I'm fine. Who are you? Where the hell am I?" Jaune couldn't make sense of the situation, but the laugh from the man brought him back to the present. "You are way gone. This is bay area, I'm just another dove trying to stick it to the man" Jaune stared at the man for a few more seconds before nodding his head slightly and turning to leave.
"What's your bag man? You some kind of hawk?" The man shouted at Jaune as he left the small beachhead, set on figuring out just where the hell he was.
AN: After much deliberation I've decided to revive my then prompt and try and turn it into a full blown story, I'd also first like to say that yes JC of the Corn's "A Screaming Eagle at Beacon" inspired me to write this, including the prompt I wrote in the first place. I also understand that this is a super short ass chapter, but I did decide to write this out at midnight. I'm planning on doing a minor time skip to push Jaune into understanding Earth, and for my next chapters to be at least 1000+ words each. Thank you for stopping by and any criticism, constructive or not is welcome.