Good Guy Jaune

by Abel Sephaos-Retired Account

After failing to stop Cauldron from launching an unstoppable assault on his main headquarters while dealing with Echida, Prometheus decides that throwing himself into the Void is preferable to being forced to meet the Winnower face to face. It's only after he possesses the body of a version of Jaune Arc who died during Beacon's Initiation that he realizes that he was wrong.

1. Chapter 1

Good Guy Jaune

Reinfection 1.1

Disclaimer, I do not own either RWBY, Worm or Destiny. This story is simply for fun.

AN: This is just something I thought of while trying not to go crazy from isolation. This is also pretty different from my usual schtick but hey, there's nothing wrong with experimenting. This story is written from the perspective of the MC, sort of Issekai style. This is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, and I won't be offended if this story isn't popular.

Now, you do not have to read the first iteration of the 'Good Guy' series to understand what is happening here, as I intend for each one to be a purely stand alone kind of story. That said, I would recommend doing a bit of independent research into the lore and background of Destiny so as to not be confused when I make references to the Traveller, which is another name for the Gardener, the Winnower, Guardians, Ghosts, Exos, Golden Age Technology, the Light, the Darkness, ect.

Synopsis: Greg Veder, Codenamed Prometheus, failed to stop the Triumvirate from destroying his main Core in the Boat Graveyard while Contessa attacked him head on during his fight with Noelle, Codenamed Echidna. This does not end well for him. With Echidna happily munching on his Indo-Human body while Contessa proceeds to call upon an artifact left behind on Luna by the Winnower, the Luminous Being forces himself to slip through Voidspace and somehow into a new, dying body. One he is, to his dismay, very familiar with.

He honestly should have just let Cauldron kill him.

[GGJ]

You know, there were very few fates that could have awaited me as I threw the majority of my Soul into what is known by many as the Void.

This included a swift death, a long and drawn out death, or… nothing, in that I would just cease to exist due to the very nature of the environment that existed beyond the bounds of material universes.

These options, while not ideal in the least, were better than the alternative provided courtesy of Fortuna. Where on Earth, or not, that she found what I knew to be an artifact of the Winnower itself I know not, nor did I care to find out.

The First Knife was not meant for me.

Nope.

I obviously wasn't about to let Daddy Darkest get his hands on me so he can stuff me into a metal ball that he can then chase across the material planes as he did the Gardener. I do not play the Game of Flowers, I just wanted to make the twisted Earth I called Bizarro Bet a better place to live for Humanity and thus myself.

Nowhere in there did I sign up to try and take on one of the two creators of the Omniverse.

So I happily opened a massive rift with a vicious twisting of my Light, detached myself from the now rapidly dying body previously belonging to Greg Veder and yeeted myself willingly into oblivion. It was, at the time being, what I considered a loss I was willing to take.

I left behind enough technology, both weapons and armor alike, for Lisa and Dinah to rival Cauldron in terms of power projection as well as explicit instructions on how to avoid drawing the attention of Scion or Eden, so Bizarro Bet was kinda better off than it was when I found it.

If I had died then, the only thing lost in the end was, well, me.

Lisa, Bryan, Alec and Rachel should be enough to take over Brockton Bay and keep it safe from the Endbringers, Entities and Human enemies alike. Dinah would obviously help them along the right path.

I may or may not have killed Contessa with my Siva-Mites as well, thus removing the Path to Victory from play for the time being.

Everything was supposed to fall into place afterwards. I'd die, then… whatever comes after I die. Maybe I expected the Gardener to reach out and pull me into the Universe she currently occupied so I could go about killing space gods. Maybe I expected the Void to tear me down bit by bit and eventually erase me from existence. A pretty horrifying fate, to say the least, but I think I'd be cool with it seeing as I would, you know, be erased and cease to have ever been to begin with.

I did not expect, however, for the Architects to be so cruel as to abruptly shove me into what I can only assume is a strangely familiar near-corpse being pinned to a tree by an equally as familiar crimson and bronze javelin, nor was I expecting the process to be so painful.

White hot agony explodes across my entire being, from the Light that houses my mortal memories and consciousness to the newest vessel I was possessing as my own. Sparks of incandescent Light race through my veins at a rate that was nearly nauseating, forcing synaptic responses in a cascading pattern starting from the top of my cranium to the bottom of my feet.

Within seconds, I can feel my Light tightly coil itself within the chest of my newest body before relaxing and letting the paracausal energy flow as if this vessel were my own.

Then came the pain again, this time sharper than the blade pinning me to the tree that is digging into my lower back. The left side of my neck begins burning almost too hot for me to handle so suddenly without screaming, forcing me to bring one of my hands up to clutch at what I could only assume is a potentially fatal wound. I am correct in my assumptions and soon begin to feel what I know to be blood spilling over my fingers at an alarming rate.

That… wasn't ideal.

The Light within me is quick to act on my behest, sparking along the surface of the wound temporarily to properly saturate the area with paracausal energy before starting to convert the rapidly fleeing life force into muscle and skin alike. As soon as the wound was sealed from the inside, I allowed my hand to relax as the blood flow became far less worrisome. I was left panting from the pain and expenditure alike, yet it was easily manageable when compared to the feeling of having your Immortal Soul shredded bit by bit by the Void.

By this point, the sound of crunching leaves below caught my attention, causing me to look downwards and towards what I now see is a forest floor just in time to catch pale blue eyes locking onto my own in what seemed to be shock, horror or perhaps a mixture of both. I couldn't help but return her horrified stare, as I recognized the figure looking up at me instantly.

Why in the good Gardener's name was I looking down at Weiss fucking Schnee, of all people?

How did that make any sense?

"N-nope." The white haired heiress seemed to stutter before abruptly turning on her heel to march in the same direction I can only assume she came from, causing me to chortle in disbelief.

Seriously?

If that really was Weiss, which I'm fucking positive it was, and I'm pinned to a tree by a spear that looked precisely like Pyrrha Nikos's weapon now that I'm actually studying it, then… did that mean…

Looking down at what I can now safely call my body oh so slowly, I see a white metal chest plate and pauldrons resting over what is unmistakably a black hoodie and goofy fingerless gloves with a crimson sleeve of sorts protecting my arms. Further down are a pair of simple bluejeans and further yet a pair of black and white chucks. The clincher that sets off the second major existential crisis to occur in my head in just as many weeks was the sheathed sword resting on a pair of crossed belts synched over my hips.

Crocea Mors.

Jaune Arc's sword and board combo weapon.

I've somehow stolen Jaune Arc's, likely dead at the time, body.

Please, no.

What was I supposed to do now?!

Pretend to be Jaune?!

Clearly pretending to be my Host doesn't work considering Greg's dad found me out on day freaking one!

Even if, and I mean IF, I somehow manage to pull off the Arc Charm, which I highly doubt, what then? Was I just supposed to, I don't know, be a Huntsman or something now?

There are about a million different ways how pretending to be Jaune can come back to bite me in the ass!

Then there's the issue with the whole Brother Gods, Salem, Ozpin, the Grimm, the White Fang, the melodrama of teenagers and wannabe Villains...

...

Well, none of these sound nearly as bad as dealing with even a single Entity, on second thought.

I'd take facing an army of Grimm over facing Zion and Eden any day of the week. Hell, I'd take facing Salem herself, naked, alone and with only a spoon to defend myself, over facing anyone even remotely close to being on par with an Entity.

Interdimensional omnicidal space whales are pretty up there on the power scaling charts compared to a moody immortal witch who can only, at best, destroy a single planet's worth of Humans.

Still though...

How the hell does this even work?!

I ignore the equally as horrified looking as I felt redhead who steps into my immediate vicinity, even as she uses her stupid magnetic 'Semblance' to rip her weapon from the tree while simultaneously reopening the wound that likely killed my Host in the first place.

I continue to ignore her for a good few minutes, too, letting my Light heal the severed artery in my neck passively in favor of trying to think of a logical reason behind my hijacking of Jaune Arc's dead body.

No matter how I spun it in my head, though, this just didn't make any sense to me.

I was a simple person once upon a time, who worked hard and wrote shitty fanfiction while trying to slowly piece my life back together when I died the first time.

Then I woke up as some blond haired, blue eyed nerd on some sick, twisted version of Earth where having Superpowers, yes,Superpowers, was pretty much the norm if you had a shitty enough day and 'Triggered'. I proceeded to 'Help' that world as best I could while dealing with a conflicting set of memories, an existential crisis the size of Mars due to my connection with a previously thought fictional creator of the Omniverse and the results of a desperate plan gone horribly, horribly wrong.

All I can say is, fuck the Worm-verse, zero out of ten, would not recommend going there.

Then I died again, this time on purpose, and wouldn't you know it, I once more end up taking over the body of a dying or dead blond haired, blue eyed nerd on some sick, twisted planet that's existence made about as much sense as my life story.

See, here's the problem. Just about everyone on Remnant has a gun that is also something else somehow and if I actually go about pretending to be Jaune, there is an extremely high chance I'm going to get shot and or stabbed at least once, perhaps even by some of Jaune's classmates and potential allies.

Beyond the very real threat of being fatally shot, stabbed or Dusted to death by nearly everyone and everything around me until I can craft a set of armor worth of a Titan, considering I don't and probably can't have an Aura due to the nature of my existence as a being made purely of the Light, there are then the schemes being executed by Salem and her little group of psychopaths and societal rejects that have a very high chance of negatively impacting my new life should I decide to not just dip out now while I still can.

While these are not exactly immediate threats to me, I won't in good conscience let said schemes unravel beneath my nose should I go through with pretending to be a Beacon student for however long Beacon stands. I'm not really a nice person, but I try to be one of the good guys whenever possible.

This means helping others who can't help themselves, or helping those who can, but won't, even at the expense of myself.

It's going to take me, at the least, two or three weeks to get back up to snuff as far as my inner Light reserves go. If I'm remembering correctly, Beacon is relatively tame compared to the threat of Omnocidal space whales or a secretive group of Humans with the power to bring the world to its knees in fifteen easy steps, so it couldn't hurt to use this chance to recuperate while I have the opportunity.

After the stress of participating in an apocalyptic race against time for well over a month, some downtime would be nice. It doesn't hurt that I know just enough about Remnant to eventually blend right in with the rest of the natives, if I play my cards right.

Overall, while not ideal, my situation could be far worse. I guess I'll just wait it out and in a few weeks, I can yeet myself back into the Void and hope for a better reroll, or death, should I feel the need to do so.

Now, to finally address the Goliath in the room.

"Alright, I think I'm good now. Sorry about that, I had to evaluate a few life choices there for a moment." I hedge out slowly while rolling my left shoulder to remove a bit of stiffness caused by the scar tissue in my neck tugging at the sinew and musculature beneath thin layers of freshly grown flesh. "You wouldn't happen to be interested in… joining Team Jaune, would you?"

The look Pyrrha gave me was a very odd mixture of relief and disbelief. I ignore the strange look and give her my best winning smile, which seems to cause her to flinch back for some reason.

"No worries, I've had worse."

Pyrrha continued to stare at me with that odd combination of conflicting emotions before she eventually decided to play along with my attempt to brush off the fact that she nearly murdered me while simultaneously saving me from falling to my death.

"I see… are you sure you… well," The redhead clad in bronze and leathers seemed to hesitate with uncertainty, "I wouldn't blame you if…"

Ah, she must think I'm going to honestly hold Jaune's death against her.

I mean, I kinda should, but at the same time, it's his loss and my gain, so…

"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger, Pyrrha, and you'll have to try much harder than that to kill me. Good attempt, I'd give it a four out of ten for effort."

I'm not lying when I say that, either. If I make the same effort in this life to reinforce my new body as I did in my previous life, Pyrrha honestly would be required to try harder than just stabbing me in the throat to kill me.

Climbing to my feet slowly as to make sure I wasn't going to black out from blood loss, I stretch languidly to get better used to my new proportions before deciding that the two of us have lingered long enough.

"Well then, how about we go grab ourselves a relic?" I once more attempt to lighten the mood, "I don't know about you, but I'm already pretty eager to get out of this forest and take a long, warm shower."

Pyrrha really didn't seem to share my enthusiasm but neither did she seem altogether unwilling to follow my lead, thus allowing the two of us to begin forging our way north after a quick check of the sun overhead to better orient myself.

Hopefully the sun rises in the east and sets in the west here on Remnant, because otherwise I was leading the two of us into some random direction. I have a feeling Pyrrha would have at least corrected me should I have been wrong.

Once more, Hopefully.

I'm pretty sure navigation is something she would have learned at… Sanctum? I can't really remember the name of her previous school off the top of my head, but a faint memory likely belonging to Jaune tells me that I'm correct.

Isn't that something Weiss would have said this morning or something? For some reason, Jaune's memories are much fainter than Greg's had been, but not so much so that I couldn't call upon them if I tried extra hard.

Ignoring the ever present yet strangely faint sensation of the Traveller trying to provide me random things such as blueprints for exotic pieces of technology through my Light as best I could, I instead tried to wrack Jaune's memories of his knowledge pertaining to Crocea Mors.

If I was going to be stuck with a sword and board until I could forge better weapons, I at least wanted to know how to deploy the shield that acted as the sheath of said two-part weapon. When Jaune's foggy memories proved to be ineffective, I decided to instead just saturate the weapon with my Light in an attempt to glisten the functions of the mechanisms likely hidden within. A few moments later and I knew what I needed to know, as well as things I didn't.

Surprise factoid, Crocea Mors has seen a lot of combat. This is pretty obvious considering it was supposed to have been wielded by a few of Jaune's ancestors, but holy shit did my Light paint a vivid picture.

I was actually startled when the scenes of carnage began playing in the back of my head courtesy of what I assume is the work of my Light from the perspective of previous wielders of Crocea Mors, but I soon decided to learn what I can from such an experience as Pyrrha and I continued to trek north.

This included, of course, how to properly grip both the sword and the shield as well as a rough idea on how to wield them effectively enough to get me through the Emerald Forest mostly whole.

It wasn't a perfect source of an education in the arts of swordplay, but I gleaned enough to be more confident in my current ability to defend myself without actually having Aura like Pyrrha and the rest. In all honesty, the process sort of reminded me of the visions most Guardians received when awakening a new Sub-Class, yet different enough to be only vaguely similar.

After another five minutes of subtly studying the weapon resting on my hip, I finally decided that the steadily mounting tension between Pyrrha and I needed to be dealt with before it caused a problem.

The issue with this, however, is that I have no idea how to even go about diffusing said tension. With no other options available, I decide to start with small talk and maybe show her a glimpse of what the Light can do if need be. If I'm lucky, maybe I can pass it off as a 'Semblance' early enough that she doesn't question me too much about it later.

This obviously won't work for people like Ozpin and his group, but then again, not much would get past a man who has reincarnated far more than I likely ever will.

Welp, there's no time like the present, I guess.

"So, Pyrrha, tell me about yourself." I finally speak up just loud enough to get Pyrrha's attention, "Got any hobbies?"

"Oh, well... yes. I enjoy studying metallurgy in my spare time and working in the forge. What about you?" Pyrrha seemed to stumble over her words at first but eventually began to speak more confidently towards the end. "Beyond eating unhealthy cereal, of course."

Wait...

I cast her a slightly confused look over my shoulder before promptly remembering that Jaune had apparently acquired the hoodie I was currently wearing by sending in around fifty or so box tops to the company that Pyrrha had a sponsorship with.

It was… Marshmallow Pete's or something, I think? My mind is still far more clouded than I'd like to admit and my thoughts are about as sluggish as cold molasses. Going from having the mental faculty of a Golden Age Warmind back to a thought process more along the lines of a baseline Human is far more jarring than I ever imagined possible.

I crack a small grin, more for her benefit than mine, before shrugging my shoulders dispassionately while knocking a long branch away from my face as we stepped through another thicket of underbrush. "I like learning and creating new things, I suppose. I'm well versed in a few different fields of applicable science and my… Semblance only reinforces my specialties."

"Really? How so?" Pyrrha seemed far more amicable now that I've successfully broken the ice, her eyes lighting up far more than the morose green they had been for the past twenty minutes or so.

"Well, take my Scroll, for instance." I eventually decide upon how to successfully sell my Light as both my Aura and Semblance alike, "Currently broken in two. But, with a bit of Aura…"

I hold out my hand to show the two shattered pieces of Jaune's Scroll after retrieving it from my pocket before channeling my Light and allowing it to synchronize with the many internal components. Soon, the two pieces are lit up like a christmas tree with geodesic fractals of pure white Light, allowing me to not only map out but understand what the many components that made the Scroll work did, how they did it, why they did it and even how to improve upon them with my understanding of Golden Age science and technology from a far distant universe.

Holy shit did I love being a humanoid Ghost sometimes.

The two shattered pieces of Jaune's Scroll became one with another nudge of my Light and with that, I now had access to everything that Jaune Arc had ever done, deleted, sent or saved with said device.

Including his search history, which was promptly wiped completely. Holy jeez dude, I know you were going through major hormonal changes, but seriously?

And what's with all the dick pics?!

"Voila, good as new." I pull the two slides of the Scroll apart to reveal a fully functioning hard-light screen, which is far more impressive than any other type of cellular device I've owned in any of my three lives.

"How does that even work?" Pyrrha questioned with what sounded like wonder in her voice, "Was that pure Aura manipulation or your Semblance?"

I shrug lightly and pocket the Scroll before answering. "A bit of both. My Semblance allows me to get a better understanding of anything my Aura can suffuse, ranging from dirt to weapons to things like Scrolls and vehicles. It's… very difficult to explain in a way that is both accurate and understandable to those who aren't intimately familiar with higher science."

"Higher science?" Pyrrha parrots in confusion, likely having never heard the term before. "You mean like particle physics?"

"Sure, that's a good place to start I suppose." I make a so-so gesture with my hand out of habit before catching myself, "Do you know anything about atomic or subatomic particles?"

"Sure. Protons, neutrons, electrons and so on, yes?" Pyrrha doesn't really seem to understand where I'm going with my explanation, so I decide that another demonstration is in order.

"Correct. If you are familiar enough with the materials you are working with down to the nanoscopic level, all it takes is a very precise nudge with your Aura to… transmogrify it, if I have to use such a term. Like so." I pick up a quarter sized pebble from the forest floor and present it to the tall redhead, who seems to be willing to humor me as I explain my 'Semblance'.

I force my Light to suffuse the iron-rich pebble and convert it into Glimmer, which is essentially programmable matter that can be converted into other types of matter, with a simple mental twist and a flick. From the small cube of Glimmer, I then create an equally sized chunk of Spinmetal, which is highly exclusive to all but those who lived in the shadow of the Traveller herself.

This time, I do actually hear wonder in my "partners" voice. This is good, because that means she is eating my bullshittery up.

"Jaune, that… what type of metal IS that?" Pyrrha tries to reach towards the hunk of Spinmetal, only to stop herself and withdraw her hand as if burned.

Jeez loueez, this girl is about as insecure as they come! How someone who could honestly eat my lunch and dinner in a straight up fight acts this way I'll never know.

I decide to meet her halfway and toss the small chunk of Spinmetal to her to inspect closer, which she does happily while giving me a strange look every few seconds until she is satisfied with what she sees.

"It's called Spinmetal, which is a simple word to describe what is officially classified as Catenated-virtual-particle long-range spin-coupled nucleon material."

Pyrrha blinks in confusion in response as if the words mean nothing to her.

"You lost me on catenated. Would you be willing to make more later? I'd be willing to pay for it!" Pyrrha asks hopefully, to which I respond with a nod in the affirmative, "Thank you! This is… amazing! I never knew alloys like this even existed! Do you know what I can do with this? Oh, so many things!"

I mean, it technically only existed on a far flung version of my home planet Earth, but I doubt it occurs naturally or even artificially here on Remnant. Instead of saying as much, however, I instead gesture for her to follow along once more before the two of us resume our march north while leaving her to fawn over the chunk of metal as we walk.

Pyrrha continued to list the many things she could possibly do with the Spinmetal as we walked like a blacksmith Bubba Gump, which ranged from armors to weapons to extremely light ammunition jacketing to even cooking utensils, surprisingly.

I pretended to listen and nodded along like the good guy I was while at the same time completely tuning the now chipper redhead out. In one ear and out the other, much like everyone else I was forced to communicate with beyond ten or so minutes.

She is as bad as I imagine Ruby is about weapons, but with different types of metals instead. Go figure that a girl with a Semblance revolving around magnetism was into highly complex minerals and alloys.

At some point I was snapped from my reverie by the sound of bushes shaking and low, menacing growling noises that could have only been produced by a Grimm from somewhere to my right.

And holy shit what a sight your first Grimm was to behold.

Baleful crimson eyes stared out from the darkness of the underbrush and soon I was face to face with a midnight black, bipedal werewolf covered in crimson markings and white bone plating. The smell of rancid, rotting meat filled the air and just as soon as the beast opened its mouth in preparation to lunge for my throat, my partner proceeded to shoot it in the face, killing it instantly.

"Now, where was I? Oh yeah, imagine a fifty foot long chain made of this beautiful metal! It would be nigh unbreakable, perfect for restraining Grimm and criminals alike!"

[GGJ]

After another twenty minutes of listening to Pyrrha ramble about the many things metal can possibly be used for, which is quite the list to recite so passionately off the top of her head, I'd finally had enough and raised a hand in the universal gesture for 'please stop'.

Thankfully, we've stumbled upon a landmark that I recognized.

The Deathstalker cave.

"Is everything alright, Jaune? You seem… concerned." Pyrrha asks after watching me walk towards the cave and return moments later with a hand cupping my jaw, "Do you wish to check inside? Perhaps these are the ruins the Headmaster spoke about."

"Nah, I'm thinking of how to collapse the tunnel, actually. You up for a bit of exercise?" I ask after another moment of consideration while turning to look back at the cave, "Because there is a really big, really angry Deathstalker in that cave and I'd like to prevent it from ever seeing the light of day again."

"Okay, I'm game. What do you have in mind?" Pyrrha didn't even blink at the prospect of being forced to potentially deal with said pissed off elder Deathstalker should I fail to completely collapse the tunnel and disturb its slumber.

Good girl.

"Well first, I'm going to create some high yield explosives and perhaps something you can shoot to set it all off. Then, we run." My plan was as simple as I could make it to prevent any extra chances for failure. "Can you hit a fist sized target at five hundred feet?"

"Yes." Pyrrha didn't bother mincing words, instead affirming that her aim was true with but one.

This will do.

[GGJ]

It didn't do!

It didn't even come close to doing!

The plan, while simple, didn't account for the fact that the massive Deathstalker was physically strong enough to shrug off massive boulders like they were merely pebbles.

Any ability I might have once had to make up plans on the fly continued to elude me as I am forced to jump to the left to dodge yet another angry swipe of one of the volkswagen sized pincers courtesy of the giant bone plated scorpion that was right on my ass and gaining.

I'll admit that I've never been one with a short temper, but this scorpion was really pushing all of my anger buttons with gusto and finesse.

Ducking underneath a low hanging branch while using my shield to guard my rear as Pyrrha and I continued to run, I'd finally had enough after narrowly dodging a triple stab from the Deathstalker's massive stinger that had enough force behind it to topple a rather thick tree.

The stinger, miraculously, became stuck in a boulder resting against said destroyed tree just long enough for me to think of a way to remove it from the equation completely.

"Pyrrha, occupy the claws!" I call out while spinning on my heel to face the beast and fully channeling my dwindling Light to the surface. Once I had enough of the paracausal energy swirling through my veins, I began bending it in a way that Warlocks and Hunters alike call 'Blinking'.

With my chosen destination being mentally visualized, I allowed my Light to reach out and fold the space between my current position and my desired position before riding the resulting gravitational wave up and over the massive Grimm in the 'Blink' of an eye.

With the blade of Crocea Mors positively teeming with my Light, I swing the sword in a wide arc at the small joint where the stinger attaches to the rest of the Deathstalker's tail and am met with surprisingly very little resistance.

So little, in fact, that I overextend and end up nearly flipping head over heels to land face first near its mandibles.

I glanced down, and six ugly bug eyes filled with absolute hate looked up.

Thinking quickly, I twist the still glowing blade downwards after recovering from my overextension with a corrective burst of Light just in time to sink it into the head of the Deathstalker as my body collides with its large carapace. I bounce twice and end up rolling away from my weapon, leaving it embedded in the skull of the Grimm and just out of my reach.

I very nearly holler out in pain as I feel one of the many bones in my leg protest against such rough treatment but ignore it in favor of getting my hands back on my weapon. Pyrrha saves my life by jumping atop the head of the beast with a skilled tree-running backflip and neatly blocks a blow meant for me with her shield while parrying the other with her xiphos, causing me to make a mental note to repay her generosity tenfold at a later time in appreciation.

Ol' chick has earned her weight in Spinmetal if I do say so myself.

The Deathstalker continues to thrash about as I lunge forward and brace my full weight on the blade still embedded in its cranium, but a sharp twist of my wrist and another overcharged surge of my Light downwards through my weapon and into the Grimm sees the massive scorpion finally permanently expire.

I make a mental note of how potent the Light is when wielded against the creatures of Grimm in its raw form and then attempt, and fail, to remove my sword from deep in the bone plating and chitin of the dead beast. It takes far more effort than I'd like to admit to retrieve Crocea Mors but I eventually succeed, only to nearly fall out from exhaustion.

I cannot help but once more appreciate the kind redhead for her willingness to help me out in my time of need as she proceeds to pick me up, throw me over her shoulder and jump down from the head of the Deathstalker when she notices me sway a second time in just a few seconds.

"Thanks, Pyrrha, used too much… Aura, at once." I try to offer an excuse for my lack of combat prowess, yet she doesn't seem to mind one way or another.

If anything, she seems incredibly pleased for some reason.

On a completely unrelated note, Pyrrha has a bad case of the wandering hands. Had I been anyone else, I would have missed the way she 'accidently' cupped my whole left asscheek before correcting her grip. Instead, I choose to ignore it for the time being.

When did Pyrrha originally start digging on Jaune, and what do I need to do to avoid this most pressing issue, anyway?

Pyrrha somehow struggles to maintain her grip on my rather noodly body and thus requires three more instances of said 'corrections', despite being strong enough to parry an elder Deathstalker with a short sword.

Yeah, I'm going to have to call bullshit if she does it again. Just putting that out there.

By the time I was able to convince Pyrrha that she really didn't need to continue carrying me and that my 'Aura' levels were good enough for the time being, we happened to finally stumble into the clearing housing the 'Ruins', which in turn housed the 'Relic' Pyrrha and I would need to be done with all of this nonsense for at least the rest of the day.

A quick scan of the area reveals five people loitering about and a rapidly dissolving Ursa minor, which means that Weiss must be still hanging onto the Nevermore and is soon to drop in.

It isn't exactly hard to recognize the figures of Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna, Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie, it was just hard to comprehend. I do my best to not stop and stare at the people who were very much technically fictional aliens to me, instead focusing on doing my best to pretend as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

That is, to be carried around and manhandled by tall, bronze and beautiful behind me. To the untrained eye, she seems protective of me. To the trained eye, she seems possessive of me.

Ignoring the catcall that rings out, likely from Yang, Pyrrha and I make our way towards the Ruins proper and proceed to snatch up the remaining Rook piece. "Hey, Pyr, you cool with this?"

"Whatever you decide is fine with me." Pyrrha says simply, which does little to set my already suspicious mind at ease around the taller than average redhead.

Does she seriously have to stand so close?

Placing the Rook piece into one of the two leather pouches on my hip now housing my new Scroll, I am greeted with the inelegant sound of Weiss Schnee falling from the heavens while the other Initiates made idle comments on her descent.

"That is going to hurt." I comment lightly while trying to judge the white haired heiresses descent, "Should I help? I don't think her Aura can take it."

"Why wouldn't you?" Pyrrha questions in confusion while stepping forward to get a better look at the falling teenager and the Nevermore she rode in on, "Shouldn't we always strive to help our comrades?"

"Yeah, I mean, I would, if she didn't find me before you and leave me to bleed out." I subtly scratch at the still fresh scar tissue stretched across half of my throat, "I mean, who leaves someone pinned to a tree with a gaping neck wound without at least inquiring as to whether or not they'll live? She just said nope and walked away, so..."

Pyrrha looked torn between being worried for my well being and being angry at Weiss, even struggling between the two before finally deciding to ignore the falling heiress.

Hot damn, Pyrrha actually has a mean bone in her body! Who'd of thought?

"Are you sure you're…?" Pyrrha doesn't seem very eloquent when concerned, "Okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm good. A gaping neck wound is child's play for me, but that doesn't excuse her behavior." I point out as calmly as I can before turning to the rest of the gathered students, "Any of you guys valiant enough to save the princess? She's going to be landing in three… two…"

Land, ho!

At the last possible second, I decide to be the better person and saturate the ground below Weiss's projected point of impact with my Light before converting the first two feet of soil in a three foot radius into a loose aerogel a split second before she crashes down.

"Ow!"

With a thunderous splat, the heiress of the SDC is reintroduced to the earth and sends the aerogel splashing out in a near perfect circle. Apparently, a few feet of aerogel is not enough to completely absorb the inertia behind a hundred-pounds-when-wet teenager falling at near terminal velocity.

At least I tried, which is all that counts.

"Ew, Weiss-cream, did that Nevermore shit on you or something?" Yang pretends to gag when she notices the thick, white substance that is coating the petite teenager as she rolls over and tries to climb to her feet.

Oh, did I mention that I made the aerogel look like fresh spunk? Because I did.

I'm petty, I'm not gonna lie. The best part is that no one else seems to have caught the conversion process, so it pretty much did look like the Nevermore nailed Weiss on her way down.

"Oh my." Blake intones just moments after Yang finishes her gagging noises, causing me to snort lightly at her dry quip.

"What on Remnant is this stuff?!"

"Don't worry, Weiss, there's a stream nearby you can wash that off in!" Ruby seems to completely ignore the fact that Weiss is literally dripping with what looks like and has the consistency of spooge, or perhaps she just doesn't understand what type of imagery such a scene provokes.

Everyone else, however, does. I'm not the only one who is thoroughly amused. I see both Blake and Nora snap a discreet picture with their Scrolls before stowing them away and looking around conspiratorially.

"Get off of me, you dolt! I can't believe you just left me like that!" Weiss struggles to shake the concerned Ruby off of her still dripping arm and eventually succeeds with the help of Yang, who clearly doesn't want her little sister playing with what she assumes is Nevermore materia. "How could you?!"

"Oh no, how could she?" I quip sarcastically, paired with a roll of my eyes for good measure, "So, now that the gang's all here and relic'd up, how about we run? No sense in wasting any more time in the open with that pissed off Nevermore still skulking the skies."

As if to agree with me, the Nevermore that Ruby and Weiss rode in on turned around and motioned as if it were about to start peppering us with pinions.

"I agree." Ren actually speaks up in agreement, which automatically wins Nora's vote in my favor as well. "We have what we came for."

"I don't see a reason to loiter." Of course my partner agrees with me, "You lead, I've got your back."

I'm sure you do, you damn deviant in disguise. How no one ever saw through your charade of innocence before Cinder murdered you I'll never know.

"Right, let's go." I motion south with an arm before turning to address Ruby and Weiss, "The stream should intersect our path if you four are going to follow."

Blake looked at Yang, who looked at Ruby, who looked at Weiss, who still looked pissed off. Or shit on. Whatever, not my problem.

Pyrrha follows closely behind once we finally begin to make our way back towards the cliffs while Nora and Ren take up either side of me as we run, preventing the Nevermore from being able to hit all of us at once should it begin another feather powered fly-by. Team RWBY seems to be following a similar train of thought and is spread out horizontally rather than assuming a diamond formation.

It's not even minutes into our run back to the cliffs before we are suddenly beset upon by a pack of Beowulves, but the four of us assuming the vanguard position of our mad dash to safety make short work of them.

Well, Nora makes short work of them with a few well placed grenades, but that is neither here nor there. This actually continues for quite a while until Ren makes a comment about Nora stealing all of the kills for herself. I still don't get to practice, however, as Pyrrha takes over for Nora and proceeds to be a try-hard while Ren and I do our best to prove our masculinity in the face of such a glory hog.

Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty emasculated right now and from the slight downturn of his lips, Ren is probably feeling the same way.

Don't worry, Brother, you aren't the only one partnered with an over-the-top redhead who obviously wears the pants in their relationships.

Finally, after what feels like another hour of not-quite-sprinting, the eight of us who decided to stick together finally reach the massive stone structures that acted as our bridge across the chasm. Unfortunately, so did the Nevermore who had stalked and terrorized usl the entire way here.

I mean seriously, weren't there other, juicier students out there in the forest still? Why in the Gardener's good name was this bird so persistent? Ignoring my mounting frustration as best I can, I decide now would be as good as any to share my fool-proof plan with my teammates.

"The moment that bird swoops in close enough, I'm going to jump on it's back and clip one of its wings. Pyrrha, if you see an opportunity, give it a Jaune Arc Special, otherwise just shoot it in the face. Nora, pester it with grenades. Ren, help Nora do her thing." I gesture angrily towards the giant black bird clad with a bone mask with my sword before running towards the stone stairs that would put me around the same height as the Nevermore.

No one seems to object to the plan, which is to say that if they did, I didn't hear them as I'd long since run ahead and up the first flight of stairs. Team RWBY seems content with following Pyrrha, Nora and Ren's example by just unloading on the big bird with unrelenting suppressive fire.

The Nevermore is somehow able to almost completely ignore the countless number of bullets, explosions and blasts of fire and ice currently bombarding it effortlessly, instead turning its beady red eyes towards me with an intense focus that I swear a mindless beast wouldn't and shouldn't have. The more I flaired my Light, the antsier the Nevermore seemed to become until finally, it turned towards me completely and made a low enough pass near my position on the stairs that I was able to 'Blink' onto it's back after dodging a swipe of it's claws with a poorly executed forward handspring.

While I do not have the acrobatic agility that Blake does, I am sure-footed enough to climb up the Nevermore's back just far enough for Crocea Mors to reach the base of its left wing.

Once more surging the majority of my Light into Crocea Mors until the silver of the blade glows white, I send a wayward prayer to the Traveller and swing with all of my might.

"Hah! Eat THAT, you stupid fucking bird!" I can't help but shout victoriously as the glowing blade cleaves cleanly through the wing entirely, severing the massive appendage and sending it careening into the chasm below.

It doesn't take long for the Nevermore to take notice of its lack of an appendage after attempting to flap its wings once more and destabilizing its flight, the gargantuan sized Grimm screeching in either anger or agony as it begins to rapidly plummet in a tailspin as a result.

Without many options being presented to me after noticing just how far from the stone bridge the Nevermore flew in such a short timespan, I let go of the handful of black feathers that I used to keep my stable on it's back and pushed off towards my final destination with all of my might.

I'm forced to execute three consecutive Blinks just to make it close enough to the cliff edge that I can grab onto it with my left hand while stabbing Crocea Mors deep into the ledge for better grip, just barely making it by the skin of my teeth. The loose soil my blade is digging into threatens to give way, but a quick conversion with my Light changes the loose soil to limestone perfectly molded around a third of the sword.

Leaving the blade stabbed into the cliff temporarily while hoisting myself up and turning to sit on the ledge, I notice the other seven making their way up the cliff face by taking an alternate route, seeing as the Nevermore destroyed the main bridge and stairs simultaneously during one of its attempts to snuff out my life by ramming me into the chasm below.

The sound of light clapping coming from somewhere behind me draws my attention away from the seven other students attempting to make their way up the old fashioned way. Turning my head slightly to glance over my shoulder through my peripheral vision, I'm graced with the sight of an entirely too smug Headmaster.

"You know, I tried explaining to Glynda that there was no way that your transcripts were fake. She didn't believe me, but now I'm a thousand Lien richer and paperwork free for the next month thanks to you." Ozpin mentions calmly after taking a long, annoyingly loud sip of hot cocoa from his mug, "The Arc's have always had a way with producing prodigies at least once every decade, haven't they?"

I humor the man with a wry smile while inside my head I'm screaming profanities. "Of course, since the Great War and probably before that, as well."

Didn't Jaune have a famous ancestor who fought in the Great War? It was called the Great War in canon, right?

Ozpin continues to smile at me in a way that is both unnerving and innocuous at once, as if he knows something I don't and doesn't want to tip me off that he knows. This actually bothers the shit out of me, because I know that if I act even the slightest bit savvy about him knowing about me not really being Jaune, he'll know the jig is up and call me out, which wouldn't be ideal at the moment.

"Relax and rest easy for now, Mister Arc, you've earned it. When the other seven join you, the eight of you can make your way back to the Auditorium to await team placements. Once more, congratulations, and welcome to Beacon." With his piece said, the Headmaster gives me an almost conspiratorial wink and turns to make his way back to where Glynda Goodwitch seemed to be waiting for the rest of the students to file in.

Why is Miss Goodwitch giving such a nasty case of the stink eye? Shouldn't she be glad that I'm slightly more than competent?

Just how much paperwork does Ozpin have to deal with that it makes her look like she wants to murder me?

With a sigh of what feels like relief and dread all wrapped up as one, I turn my attention back to the other seven students whom I would be spending most of my time for the near future interacting with.

Honestly, learning to be a Huntsman doesn't really seem so bad after all, especially with so many good people watching my back.

It beat the hell out of trying to be a Cape, that's for sure.