Here we are.


Cover Art: Kegi Springfield

Chapter 36


Pyrrha and Ren approached the location, slipping from shadow to shadow as they approached.

"This is the place?" Pyrrha asked.

"According to Jaune's instructions, yes."

"Shouldn't we have been challenged by now? We haven't even seen a single sentry."

"Well, perhaps that's luck on our parts." Ren wasn't so certain but left the thought there and scanned the buildings around them. Broken and abandoned, any would have been a prime spot for an ambush or guard, and yet there were none. "Perhaps they have something else in mind. I only hope they haven't discovered Jaune and Blake."

Pyrrha's heart skipped a beat. "Surely not. We'd have heard something if-"

A loud explosion shook the ground beneath them. A plume of smoke spiralled up from ahead, pooling around cracked tarmac before it found its way out and up into the sky. The two teammates spared a look for the other, before they dashed forward.

/-/

Jaune ducked low when the explosion went off. He'd known it was coming, forewarned by Blake, but the ferocity of it still shocked him, especially when it bucked outwards and tossed the last carriage high into the air. It landed with a crash, exploding again as the dust inside ignited and bathing the area in fire. Several members of the White Fang screamed and rolled around, trying to put it out. Yet more watched in shock and horror.

"We're under attack!" Roman bellowed, appearing from a nearby building. "Move it, you stupid animals. Get the train ready – and keep your guard up."

"B-But the remaining dust," one dared to protest.

Roman rounded on him and snarled. "Forget it! We don't have time. Load the train!" he shouted. "We're moving ahead of schedule!"

Ahead, hm? Jaune leaned over the edge of the building and watched the train, which several people were now quickly rushing toward, last crates in hand. If it was going anywhere, he wanted to be on it and quickly. Wasting not a moment, he hurried to the edge of the building and hopped off it, sailing through the air toward solid ground. Ten or so metres before it he fired his grapple back, striking through brickwork to haul him aside and bring him slamming to a halt against the building, suspended five metres from the ground. He detached it with another press, falling the remaining distance and landing with a grunt.

The White Fang were in a frenzy now and weren't paying as much attention as they ought to have been. They expected an attack from outwards and so were left unaware when he half-staggered, half-ran toward the train. It wasn't moving and he made his way down the tracks, finding a carriage at least halfway down with a hatch open and crawling into it.

Rolling onto his back, he pushed a button on his mask. "Blake, you there?"

"I'm in the compound. The bomb on the train went off-"

"I have eyes. Where are you now?"

"I'm watching the building where Oobleck is kept. Ciel is assaulting the Paladin; she says she can pilot it. We're going to split Torchwick in two. If he goes to stop Ciel, she'll retreat and I can rescue Oobleck. If he stays with Oobleck, he loses the Paladin."

"Good plan," he said, knowing it was Ciel's. "Don't risk yourself against Roman if you can help it – and keep an eye out for our teammates. That explosion is going to draw Grimm, so they need to be on the train before it leaves."

"I'll call them now and explain. I've nothing better to do."

The call ended and Jaune trusted Blake to it, standing up and limping his way toward the carriage in front. The engine began to whirr and hiss as the metal beast came to life, slowly at first, and without moving. It wouldn't be long before it departed, and he wanted to find the driver before then and deal with them. It couldn't be Roman if he was already occupied.

If he could stop the train here, then Vale would be safe – or at least mostly safe. The Grimm would still have access to the tunnel, but that would be a sporadic and easily contained thing. The real problem was if the bombs below Vale went off, splitting the ground in two and spilling Grimm everywhere.

The first two carriages were empty of life; stacked boxes and crates filled them, either with dust or something else. It was the third he reached that held something more, though still no White Fang. It was instead filled with strange exoskeleton robots, almost like miniature Paladins but far smaller. Was this how the White Fang intended to survive the impact? These suits might give them the defence they needed.

He spared a thought to destroying them, before he shook his head and moved on. He had one explosive worked into his suit and that was his self-destruct. Other than that, he'd have to rely on randomly cutting wires, and while that might help a little it would be trial and error, not to mention a waste of time.

"Damn it," Blake cursed, her voice flickering to life inside his mask. "Torchwick chose to stick with Oobleck. He's dragging him toward the train. What should I do?"

"Is Oobleck okay?"

"Alive, but roughed up and heavily restrained. I doubt he can fight."

"Follow but don't interfere." He couldn't afford to lose Blake here too. "If Ciel gets the Paladin, she'll be fine even if she has to stay in Mountain Glenn. Focus on finding Pyrrha and Ren."

"They're already here," Blake reported. "They're heading for the train. I told them we were already on board."

Jaune nodded, and then realised she couldn't see it. "Right. You might want to get on board yourself. Ditch the outfit and meet up with them. Explain the situation, and see if you can't diffuse the bombs that have been set."

"We won't be able to communicate if I lose the helmet."

"It'll be fine. Trust me on this."

There was a moment of silence before she responded. "I trust you. Okay. We'll catch up with you soon."

Good girl, Blake. Jaune smiled and pushed ahead. The outfits could be removed fairly quickly, it being in their design, and Blake could slip back in with Pyrrha and Ren without any difficulty. It would also make sense from Ciel's point of view, since she assumed he'd laid the bomb on the train. He could just say he'd come back once Roman focused on the Director.

The door ahead of him opened before he reached it. He was presented with three white masks, behind which eyes widened comically.

Jaune was moving before they had a chance to respond. He caught the first woman under the sternum and drove a fist upwards. She gasped and buckled, and Jaune moved on, catching the wrist of the second man who tried to stab him. Pulling back and along, he drove the man's sword into the third's stomach. While they were distracted, he lashed out with the hilt of a dagger, slamming it into the back of the man's neck. He fell poleaxed while the third slumped back against the wall, grasping his friend's sword that had killed him.

The woman whirled on him and snarled, drawing her weapon. The small horns on her head prominently displayed. "Damn human, I'll kill you!"

"No," Jaune said, stepping past the first shot. The handgun bucked in the enclosed space, splashing bright light across his black mask and creating a demonic visage. His hand settled on hers, crushing bone and twisting the gun out of her hand, even as she squeezed off a second shot.

She gasped and fell back once he took it from her. In a panic, she rushed for an alarm on the wall of the train and reached out for it.

A gunshot echoed. Her body slammed against the wall. She tried her hardest to press it, but her weak fingers couldn't smash through the glass case. She slid down the metal, leaving a trail of blood behind.

"I'm afraid you won't," he finished, tossing the gun atop her body. He moved on quickly, leaving two dead and one unconscious. Even if he wished it could be three of the latter, he didn't have the time or skill for it.

Gunshots echoed behind and in the distance. It must have been the fight between the White Fang and his team, which he could only trust they were winning. Either way, it masked his own gunshots but he didn't have the time to wait. Roman was on the train, and almost certainly making his way to the front, prisoner in tow.

He couldn't let the thief beat him there.

/-/

"Blake!" Pyrrha called happily the moment she leapt out of a second-floor window. She landed easily, training kicking in where catlike faunus instinct didn't. Dashing across the open ground, she pressed her back to Ren's and flashed a smile to Pyrrha.

"Good to see you."

"Yourself as well," Ren replied, firing off shots where he could. "Where's Jaune?"

"On the train. It's loaded with explosives and destined for Vale." She paused for their gasps, deflecting an attack from a White Fang terrorist at the same moment. "Torchwick took Doctor Oobleck onto the train as well. We need to get on there."

Ren nodded. "And Ciel?"

A second explosion provided the answer, as a large, white robotic monstrosity burst from the remains of a ruined building, one hand pointed toward the sky. Like a vampire from a cheap horror flick, it pulled itself from the building and onto its feet. Pyrrha and Ren started, turning their weapons towards it, but they were left shocked when its gaze roamed over them and it instead opened fire on a building filled with terrorists.

"I think Ciel's fine," Blake quipped.

"That's her!? How the hell does she know how to pilot that thing?"

"Atlas training, I guess. Or dumb luck. We don't have the time; we need to get on that train before it leaves or we'll be stuck here." And the train had already begun to move, slowly for now, but it would pick up speed as it accelerated. "Ciel will be fine out here in that thing. I doubt there's a single Grimm that can challenge her. But if we're stuck here ourselves…"

"We understand," Ren said. "Also, Jaune will need us if he's on there alone with Torchwick."

Blake cursed. She hadn't even considered that. The train wouldn't leave much room for him to hide, and once Jaune reached the first car, he'd have nowhere to go. Another blast rent the air as the Paladin's shoulders opened up, revealing rows of propelled grenades that rained down on the path between them and the train.

"Ciel's clearing the way," Blake realised. "Hurry, while she's buying us time!"

The three of them dashed across the open space, holding their auras tight to ward off any stray bullets which rained down on them from nearby buildings. Those soon stopped as miniguns raked across the windows. The train had started to pick up speed and those left behind, barring the one with a military mech, would be doomed. It horrified her to know how willing Torchwick, and the other White Fang on the train, were willing to go.

But there was no time for grief. Blake pushed her legs harder, reaching the tracks as the train pulled away. With a grunt, she hurled Gambol Shroud forward, catching it onto the railing on the back. Leaving Pyrrha and Ren behind, she hurled herself forward and onto it, before she tied the ribbon tighter and tossed her weapon back.

Ren and Pyrrha caught on quickly, literally in fact, as they pulled themselves up the ribbon and toward the train, which had finally started to pick up speed and pull away.

"Thanks," Pyrrha gasped, accepting Blake's help to get over the railing. "That was close."

"Too close," Ren echoed, panting for breath. He looked back towards the tunnel entrance disappearing behind; not just to Ciel, but also the White Fang doomed to die – for some Grimm had already started to enter. "Do you think Ciel will be okay?"

"Right now, she's safer than us."

Ciel Soleil was also a professional. She knew what she was doing, and what she'd gotten into. Considering the size of the tunnel, she'd probably never expected to fit the thing through anyway. It was supposed to be loaded onto the train in a compact manner first.

"We need to move on," she said, pushing the carriage door open and stepping inside. Crates and containers faced them. "These are all filled with dust stolen from Vale and there's an explosive on the roof. It'll go off in Vale, cracking the ground and creating huge holes for the Grimm to come through."

"Can we diffuse the bombs?" Ren asked.

Blake sighed. "I don't know, but it's worth a shot."

Pyrrha provided them a way onto the ceiling, stabbing her spear through several points to weaken the frame above, and then using her Semblance to peel it down, creating a large hole and something of a stairway up. Ren crawled up first but ducked his head at the top as a bullet pinged off the metal.

"White Fang," he said casually, standing back up and firing back. "They're on the roof heading towards us."

"That's persistent of them," Pyrrha noted.

"Suicidal, more like. Blake, can you get up here and keep them busy?"

Blake nodded and scurried up Ren's back, leaping over his head when he fired a few more shots to give her cover. She landed on the thin roof, hair whipping back as the wind took her. There was enough room between the train and the ceiling above to stand, though the force of their speed made it precarious.

Drawing Gambol Shroud and wishing she still had the VSS uniform, Blake opened fire, pinning their opponents so that Pyrrha and Ren could get up. She advanced as she did, closing the distance.

"Blake, duck!"

She did so, trusting Pyrrha instantly and being rewarded as a huge chunk of metal sailed above. It fell among the White Fang with a horrendous clang, startling them for a moment and knocking some back. It was soon whipped off the side of the train and away, bouncing off the walls like the most dangerous bouncy-ball alive.

Still, it distracted the White Fang long enough for her to close the distance. They only had a chance to cry out a warning before she was on them, driving an elbow into the face of one and ducking low, sweeping the legs from another. Too close to open fire without risking injuring an ally, they tried to close on her. In doing so, they vastly overestimated how far `fanaticism` could get one against cold, hard training. She tore through half of them before Pyrrha and Ren caught up, and the moment they did the remaining ones were dispatched.

Some fell from the train, Blake being unable to stop them as they were knocked back, tripped or just slipped off when she knocked their feet from under them. She did her best to ignore their screams, even as she knew their deaths would be painful ones. Anyone who fell from the train now would be lucky to die on impact. Those that survived awaited a far worse fate, as the sounds of Grimm behind indicated they were in hot pursuit.

"I've found it," Ren called from ahead. He was knelt by a small compartment he'd opened, inside of which lay an odd tube-shaped device with wires, dust containers and a blinking red light. "There's no timer, of if there is I can't see it. Blake, do you have any idea how to disarm it?"

"Not unless there's an off button…"

They could cut the wires or try to remove the dust – which was surely the fuel for the explosion – but there was no telling how successful that would be. If they made a single mistake, they'd be in trouble. "We should decouple the car," she said. "If we let it fall behind then it won't catch us."

"Or we can do this," Pyrrha interrupted. She pointed both hands down at the device and growled. There was a popping and grating noise as it pulled free of the carriage almost of its own volition. The beeping device hovered in the air for a second, before she tossed her arms back and sent it spiralling down the tunnel.

When the bomb impacted the concrete, it exploded. The flames licked the walls and darkened them, but the damage was fairly light. Some Grimm were slain, but that was all.

"Huh, that was surprisingly easy," Ren said.

"Almost too east," Blake said. "We should-" A loud clunk echoed around them. It was followed by a bump as their carriage shook, and then slowly began to pull away from the one in front. "They've cut the cars!" she realised. "Run!"

They were close to the next already and able to reach it with a huge leap, rolling on the metal and coming to a stop. Blake pushed herself up in time to watch the car behind roll over and tip, grating on the floor and spinning to a stop.

And then, nothing…

It just sat there.

"The bomb was meant to ignite that carriage!" Ren said, eyes wide. "The dust inside was to make the explosion bigger, probably enough to tear the tunnels apart from the inside."

Of course! The carriages were the payload, the bomb itself nothing more than the ignition. That meant if they were able to get the bombs off each car and set them off early by throwing them off the train that the dust itself wouldn't be set off!

"We need to remove all the bombs," she hissed. "Hurry!"

"And Jaune…?"

"He'll be fine – at least finer than he will be if the whole tunnel collapses on us." And he'd asked her to trust him, which she would. He was a better man than Adam. "Come on, move!"

/-/

"Torchwick, it's about—Wait, you're not Torchwick!"

"Sorry to disappoint," Jaune said. He realised they couldn't hear him the moment he closed the distance, but at that point it was too late to go back and re-do his dramatic entrance. The White Fang opened fire on him at close range, but the bullets pinged off his coat as he swept it before him, throwing it at them. A canister caught in the centre of it erupted a second later, belching out thick smoke that obscured vision and clogged their throats, leaving many of them to cough and splutter.

His mask protected him, filtering out the bad air as he dove among them. One gloved hand caught the barrel of a rifle, tugging it aside and toward an ally as the one wielding it kept the stream of bullets firing. His other clutched a knife, which he buried into an indistinct shape in the mist.

"Thermal," he whispered, watching his vision wash over red. Crimson shapes, brightly lit, appeared before him, many struggling to push away the smoke. Kicking up the rifle of the downed man before him, Jaune caught it and opened fire.

Some of them didn't even have aura. He hadn't realised at first, and in the end it wouldn't have made much difference. Instant death or slow death, perhaps those who fell early were the real winners. Spent, he tossed the gun aside, stepping past a survivor groaning on the floor. The door ahead was sealed and shut, far thicker than the ones before.

The front of the train; he'd finally reached it. This car was armoured, probably intended to be the final thing which survived the explosions when the Grimm hit, giving Torchwick a chance to escape safely. He tested the door and cursed. It wouldn't open.

He also heard someone inside and judging from the heavy breathing they'd heard the gunfire outside. Convincing them to open the door wasn't going to happen.

But there's more than one way through this. He knelt by the control panel and considered it. The thing was simple, with both a code lock with digits and also a slot for an ID card. The writing on it suggested it was one or the other, but both weren't needed. Bringing out his scroll, the VSS one that Oobleck had given him, he held it against the device and tapped a button. The back magnetised, sticking it to the thing as another app opened and began to whirl through numbers.

Reaching to his hip, Jaune drew Crocea Mors and prepared himself. He readied his shield before him, wondering what his father would say if he could see him now, not only armed, but dressed in full black with a full-face mask.

Well, he'd probably demand to know what had happened to his son and where this bastard had taken him. It wasn't like he could be recognised, even by someone who knew him so well. He'd changed, and not just recently.

The scroll beeped once, and the door opened with a click. The moment it shifted, a gun went off. The bullet pinged off his shield, followed by four more as the driver unloaded wildly on him. Jaune held his ground, blocking each until the faunus' weapon ran dry with an audible click. The terrorist whimpered and reached for another clip. His body was shaking. It stopped when it slumped to the ground, dead.

Jaune flicked the blood free from his weapon, shifted his shield back into a sheathe, and stored them away once more. He moved to the control panel, looking at it hesitantly. He had no idea how to control this thing and no number of gadgets would teach him.

"If I stop the train, this Grimm will catch us in the tunnels. If I let it keep going, we'll hit Vale…" A set of screens caught his eye and he moved over, realising they were cameras set back through the vehicle. Some showed the rooms he'd been through, proving that the driver had watched his death coming. Another showed Torchwick dragging Oobleck through a carriage, the Director's hands secured behind his back.

But another showed a view of the top of the train – right as Pyrrha used her Semblance to cast an explosive back into the tunnel.

"Perfect," he breathed. "Good work, Blake."

If the train was bereft of explosives, then the impact in Vale would be minor – and if they stopped the train there, whether by his own control or force meeting immovable object, then they'd only have to retreat a few hundred metres to reach safety. The Grimm might still follow, but so long as there wasn't a gaping hole cut into the city, they could be held off.

Pulling out his personal scroll, he called Blake.

"Jaune?" she answered.

"I'm at the control panel for the train," he said. "I can see you guys through the cameras. Good job on the explosives but there are loads more down the train."

"I know; we're working our way down."

"No, you don't understand. Some of the later ones are inside the train cars themselves. Pyrrha isn't going to be able to throw those out, not unless she's strong enough to lift the whole thing." He wouldn't have put it past her, but there just wasn't the time. "I can detach some of the cars though and let them drift back – if you can all get further ahead."

"What good will that do?"

"If we stagger it, we can make it so only the one car at a time goes up rather than a chain reaction." He checked the cameras again and cursed. "Look, I don't have time to explain. Torchwick is on his way here and I kind of need some support."

Blake, on the screen, nodded. "We'll be there soon. Just hold on."

The call ended, and he went back to the controls, checking Roman once more before he flicked through the car couplings, which were luckily somewhat self-explanatory. Using the security feeds to identify which cars were filled with dust, he noted them down and prepared himself.

A sudden ringing echoed in his mask.

A call? He answered it.

"Who is-"

"Rat, it's Magician!"

"Ma-"

"You're close enough to Vale for me to reach you," she interrupted. "Very close and moving closer at speed! What's going on?"

"I'm on a train set up by Torchwick," he summarised. "It's filled with explosives and designed to go off under Vale, spilling Grimm into the streets." He ignored Magician's gas and pushed on. "We're getting rid of the explosives back down the tunnel to make the blast smaller, but there's still a chance there will be a little one. We need support in Vale."

"I'll get on that now. Is there anything-" Magician's voice wavered and blurred, replaced with static for a moment as she was twisted away.

"Magician? Magician!?"

"Agent Rat," a new voice spoke.

"Who is this?"

"Agent Rat, Director Oobleck is indisposed as per your report, correct?"

"It is," he said, realising that this had to be someone pretty high up in the VSS to have reached him like this, and to have been told by Magician what he'd earlier reported. "Look, I was just telling Magician that we need teams on hand in case this thing impacts."

"We have listened to your message, Agent. Crisis teams will be dispatched."

Jaune breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"That said, with the Director indisposed it falls now on us to conduct and orchestrate this mission. Mountain Glenn was a disaster that threatened to destabilise and destroy Vale once. This cannot be allowed to happen a second time."

"You think I don't know that? What do you think I'm doing here?"

"Your actions do you honour, and your anger is forgiven," the person said. "You are in control of the vehicle, correct?"

"I'm in the lead car, yes."

"Tell me what you see – and what you have done thus far."

Recognising that the person wanted to give him instructions, Jaune filled him in as best he could, explaining that his team were dispatching of the explosives while being careful to make it clear they were doing that under the impression he was a huntsman, not an Agent of the VSS. He kept Blake's name out of it entirely.

"We're hoping if we get rid of enough explosives, we can make the final impact smaller," he finished. "We'll still hit Vale, but we'll make it there safely and the crisis teams can seal the breach, if there is one."

"Any breach signifies a risk to the city, Agent. The Grimm that follow you could overwhelm the teams."

"The Grimm that are following us will be lessened by the explosions we're throwing back."

"I see." The man was silent for a while. "Agent, do you see a central lever toward the base of the car, close to where the driver might sit?"

Jaune looked around and quickly spotted it. "Yeah, it's black with a red handle and a lever on the side. There are two others near it, smaller and pushed forward."

"Ignore those two for now. Sit in the seat and grasp the tallest lever, the one which should at this point be angled upwards, toward the ceiling."

"It is," he replied, sitting down.

"Good. Grasp it with one hand. You will need to pull it backwards, toward your body. There is a release catch on the lever, meaning that you will also need to grip the two levers together before you do, otherwise it will not move. It is a safety mechanism to make sure it is not activated by accident. You should feel some resistance as you do this, but not too much."

Gripping the lever and being sure to reach out with his fingers to pull the catch against it, he drew back as instructed. The train lurched suddenly, and an ear-piercing screech reached his ears. The sudden change in momentum tossed him forwards – making him release the lever. The sound stopped, and the train started moving once more.

"What the hell was that?" he snapped.

"You are picking up speed, Agent. I did not instruct you to stop."

"You tried to make me pull the brakes!" he realised. "Are you insane? This thing is covered in bombs and dust! My team is on this!"

"If the payload reaches Vale, the damage would be catastrophic. However, if the train cars were bunched up and ignited at once, the force would collapse and seal the tunnels," the man explained, like he hadn't just tried to kill Jaune. "This would protect the city and ensure no Grimm can approach."

"It would also kill me!"

"You are an Agent of the VSS, Rat. You should know well the sacrifices that might be demanded of you."

"But the Director is here-"

"He knows them better than any."

"My team!"

"Huntsmen die for the Kingdoms. Their loss would be an unfortunate one, but necessary."

Anger coursed through him. Jaune threw himself away from the lever with a snarl and gripped Crocea Mors, not that it did him any good. This man, this bastard, had just tried to make him kill his team. And for what?

For Vale…?

Would he be willing to die for Vale? He didn't know. Most of Vale was an unknown he was willing to risk his life for, but not throw it away over. When it came to protecting, it was his friends that came to mind. Ruby, Blake, Pyrrha, Ren and everyone else. He wanted to stop Cinder so that they would be safe.

"I'm not sacrificing my team for this," he hissed.

"Consider your situation, Rat. We cannot prepare the city in time for this disaster and the results could well kill hundreds, even thousands. Our Crisis Teams will not be able to contain the damage, as they were unable to when Mountain Glenn first fell. No one here wishes to make this call, myself least of all, but it must be done. The tunnels must be sealed as they were so long ago."

"Back when Oobleck first did it, you mean."

The man hesitated, though only for a moment. "Yes."

"And who was it that ordered that?" he asked.

"Not I, if that is what you believe. It was a time before mine. Director Oobleck, a mere Agent at that point, was in position to shoulder the horrible task. He did what was needed; he did what was right. He was willing to make this sacrifice – as should you be. Those who don the mask must be prepared to die."

Prepared to die? Vanguard had been. Oobleck certainly was. Even Ciel seemed prepared.

This would save the city…

And all he had to do was pull a lever. No one would really know what he'd done down here, nor how many people had been saved, but they would still be alive to carry on their days in bliss, ignorant of the sacrifices made beneath their feet.

"This must have been what Oobleck felt…"

"Agent?"

"Oobleck made the choice to sacrifice his team for the safety of Vale," he said. "Roman couldn't accept it when he found out the truth and rebelled. He exposed the Council's actions, dragged their name through the mud and then dedicated his life to causing them trouble. He did all of it in an attempt for revenge."

"It was impossible to predict all of that, and it does not change that Director Oobleck made the correct decision in the circumstances. Civilians, huntsmen, soldiers, all were protected by his hand. He became a hero."

He had.

Funny, hadn't he wanted to be a hero once, as well? Wasn't that the reason – deep inside – that he'd wanted to join Beacon? Oobleck had called it selfish wish fulfilment, and it really had been. He'd been weak, unskilled and unprepared. All he'd have really found would be a quick and pointless death, followed by a letter to his parents which would leave them all in grief. Gods, he'd been such an idiot.

"Rat, you are approaching Vale. We need to stop that train!"

"I'm not Oobleck."

"What?"

"I'm not Oobleck," he repeated, leaning back in the seat. A weight lifted from his shoulders. "I can't do it. I won't do it."

"You… have you gone mad?"

Jaune laughed. "Maybe. I'm sorry, but I won't stop the train. Have the crisis teams ready for us."

"I would have them ready for you with words like that! Do you realise what you suggest right now? You are considering treason, Rat. You are a part of the VSS. You cannot reject this order."

"Then I guess this is my resignation."

"One does not leave us so easily… I am encouraging you now to reconsider."

The threat was clear, and really there was nothing he could do to stop it. If the VSS wanted him dead, then they had ample opportunity for it. They knew where he lived, after all. They knew everything there was to know about him.

But still, he couldn't do it.

He couldn't kill his teammates.

Would you hate me for this, Vanguard? Or would you understand?

Cardin didn't answer, but for some reason he couldn't imagine the gruff man trying to kill him. Not when he'd been willing to give his own life to protect him against Mercury. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "But my decision is final. I'll do what I can to lessen the explosion, but we're going to hit Vale. As for the VSS, I guess I quit."

"I will give you one final chance to reconsider, Agent. We have other means of stopping that train, and you on board of it. Stop the train. Die as a hero, not a traitor."

"I'd rather not die at all."

"I'm afraid that is not an option." The man sighed, and then spoke again in a clear voice. "Designation 1641. Codename: Rat. Initiate Arc Protocols. Time; ten seconds."

The words echoed in his mind. Cardin's face flashed before his. Ha, Oobleck had never taught him how to use this, but he couldn't remember Cardin's final words even if he'd tried. Leaning back in the seat, Jaune closed his eyes.

"The explosion will destroy the control panel and stop the train," the man said. "I apologise, Agent Arc, but your sacrifice is necessary. For the people of Vale." the man shouted, ending the call.

"For the people of Vale," Jaune toasted.

Many miles away in Beacon – a rocket locker exploded in a gout of flame.

Closer, in the control room of a train hurtling toward Vale, Jaune Arc stood and removed his mask. He stamped down on it, shattering it into pieces. It wasn't his, after all, but one of a dead Agent picked up in Mountain Glenn. Looking back to the control panel, and the brake lever, he snarled and swung his sword, shearing it off at the base and locking the train onto its forward course.


Welp. That happened! I'm sure this won't have consequences upon consequences, but what can our boy do? Giving your life to save people you don't know is so easy to say, but so hard to do in practice. Many of those in the VSS, as shown with Cardin, are trained and indoctrinated at a young age, so they're more likely to agree to it.

Jaune, though? Well, he's a teenager. He's flawed.

Now it's time for Oobleck and Roman.

Next time, anyway.


Next Chapter: 22nd April

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur