Chapter 5

Nature

"Is that the last one?"

Roman Torchwick had been called many things: gaudy, flashy, high-profile; just to name a few. To a thief, these three things were a big no-no. As inept as the Valean Police Department was, it didn't take much to catch a thief who didn't know what he's doing.

"Yes boss!"

First timers who were new to job tend to make the obvious mistake of not planning the right course of action when doing a job. Not thinking of a place to stash the loot, how to transport the loot, and – Oum forbid – whether or not the loot's sellable in the first place.

Of course, these were all rookie mistakes. And he's anything but a rookie.

"Alright, pack it up boys! We're done for the night!" Multiple voices cheered after hearing the announcement. Roman couldn't blame them. Low-life criminals they may be, his men deserve their much needed break; especially after the non-stop streak of Dust robberies they pulled over the past month.

The bowl-hat wearing master thief let out a breath he'd been keeping as he watched his men load up three lorries to the brim with Dust. His mascara lined eyelids showed signs of fading, indicative of the amount of hard work he'd pulled for the day.

"...more like the past few weeks…" the rogue Huntsman muttered as he lit himself his favorite brand of cigar. Vacuan, as usual. He breathed in that sweet, yet bitter taste of nicotine into his lungs.

At this very moment, Roman missed being a new player on the game. He recalled those early days when he was still a green, wet-behind-the-ears pickpocket. He may not be making as much as he did now back then, but he also didn't have to worry about much too. Back then, he only needed to worry about keeping himself fed and finding a safe place to sleep. It might sound extreme, but at least he didn't have to worry about a murderous boss-girl twisting his arms behind his back in order to make him fill her quotas of Dust like he was now.

He recalled what led him to this very moment, what exactly happened the led him to be the pawn of some mad woman who may or may not be a pawn herself to whoever it was that held her leash. His experience in the syndicate was enough to tell him he was slowly walking himself to the edge of a cliff, and towards a very deep chasm that not even he himself was sure he could climb out of. In other words, Roman Torchwick was very much aware that he's working himself to an early death.

Like many other people out there, criminal or not, he preferred being alive, so no, he didn't like being where he's at the moment.

Standing underneath the metal roof of a large storage unit he'd used to stash away this week's Dust that they'd stolen from shops and stores all over Vale, Roman waited while his men busied themselves with the task of moving the aforementioned Dust.

See, this place was just a temporary storage place they used to store their loot. He had many places like this one scattered all over Vale, so as not to alert local authorities. At the end of every week, his men would then load up all of the accumulated Dust into these lorries and carry them to their main storage place, where only a select few knew the location of.

When he was first strong-armed into doing non-stop Dust robberies for his current 'employer', he was already aware that he would be aiding in a very bloody and probably straight up murderous plot. After all, who needed literally every single speck of Dust on Vale? With the amount he'd been robbing, it's enough to even make the Atlesians sweat.

However, despite all the robberies that had been happening left to right, Dust still remained a commodity. It's easier for Dust shop owners to file an insurance claim when their stores had been robbed, as there's just so many Dust to go around that replacing the amount lost would be of little to no problem. In Roman's opinion, it made things all the more scary.

"What would anyone do with that much Dust...?" It's the question he'd been too afraid to ask.

Look, before anyone came at him for being a coward, even his murder-death-kill obsessed partner herself stood no chance against his current 'employer'. He'd learned not to go against her and her people the hard way.

But, as he'd said, whatever it was they're planning to use all of that Dust for, it couldn't be anything less than bloody.

The familiar buzzing emanating from within his coat killed every single ounce of respite he was feeling that night. Pulling out the cigar out of his mouth with one hand, he fished out his scroll with the other, holding it in front of his face as the camera activated to show the caller feed.

"Good evening boss-lady," he greeted the caller, allowing himself to foster his trademarked grin on his face.

"Roman," a female voice responded, dulcet and smooth. "How goes the job, is everything going smoothly?"

"As smooth as a baby's bottom," he answered humorously, if only as an attempt to lift the foulness in the mood – his mood. "It would be better if it wasn't so cold outside, but we'll manage. How are things on your end, if I may ask?"

An ominous womanly chuckle came from the other end of the line.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same." Despite the message, the tone carried no real anguish. "Our mutual 'friends' have proven to be more bullheaded than we thought. I'm having my subordinates try and convince them as we speak."

Roman held no love for terrorists, especially ones with the habit of shedding blood everywhere they go, but even he felt pity for those poor animals at that moment.

"I see," in fact, he could imagine it. No, he's pretty sure he could hear the screaming coming from the other end of the line, followed by the sound of increasing gunfire and fighting. "Well, if it's just sitrep you're looking to hear, I'm afraid that is all I have to say at the moment. Unless… you're making a social call?"

This time, a more normal-sounding but no less ominous laughter could be heard coming from the woman at the other end of the line. Roman shivered, and he's sure it wasn't the crisp cold air doing that to him.

"Oh Roman…" the voice trailed off in a chiding manner. "It never ceases to amuse me how many times you try to sound braver than you really are. We've worked together for about a month now and you still think you have hold over what it is you're doing; you're starting to look as stubborn as our 'animal' friends over here."

The cigar he'd been holding snapped into two from the result of his own grip. Whatever look he had displayed earlier had been dropped in favor of a stone-faced one, much to the woman's further amusement.

"Make no mistakes, Roman," the woman's voice dropped, losing whatever friendly undertone it had previously. "As far as I am concerned, you work for me. You may have influence and sway with the criminal syndicates in Vale, but mere thugs alone will not be enough to stop me from getting to you should you ever screw up."

Although they're not talking face to face, Roman could somehow feel the familiar scorching heat of her flames all the way from here.

"So remember, Roman, when you eventually screw up, I will personally deliver hell and agony to you myself. Know your place."

And just like that, the call ended. Roman, still holding on to half a cigar, let out a very long sigh as he pocketed the Scroll back to where it belonged.

"Everything's packed and loaded, boss!" A henchman shouted, grabbing Roman's attention.

"Alright," he responded in the same volume, "tell the drivers to go immediately! And take the new guys out to town for a few rounds at The Bar. The tab's on me tonight."

Cheers erupted within the ranks, no doubt from excited men who looked forward to getting wasted at their favorite drinking establishment.

Roman, meanwhile, didn't share the enthusiasm his men had. "At least she's not here to see this…"

Another thing he didn't like about his current arrangement: it prohibited him from actually making money. While the boss-lady was more than okay with him pocketing any bit of loot he came across, robbing Dust stores wasn't the most profitable job in this line of work. He'd be better off doing wire fraud or insurance scam if he's looking to make a quick but sizable paycheck.

That left him with no other choice but to let his partner do all the bread-making for them. It's nothing she couldn't handle; the mob could always use someone to throw out the trash piling in their backyard. And, knowing his partner, she's more than willing to do exactly that. He did warn her not to overdo it when it came to doing jobs for the mob. For the mob's sake.

Tonight, he just had to be content with the score he had pulled. He could always plan things out in the future.

He just hoped that it wouldn't be too late for him by then.

"Many historians, like myself, agree that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. How many times have we seen stories of events that happened many years ago, only to see it mirrored years later in the future? Take the Great War for example. During the Mistrali Golden Age, when multiple dynasties of Emperors expanded their reign westward into Sanus, multiple skirmishes were already being waged between the Mistrali and the local nomadic tribes people."

Beacon may be a Huntsman Academy.

"The early Mistrali settlers actually developed a rather amicable relationship with the local native Sanusians, but over the course of time that relationship soured. The Mistrali settlers began imposing their more modern way of life upon the native Sanusians, who they deemed as primitive. They, by doing so, repressed many years of tradition, arts, and culture that had been passed down mainly via word of mouth within the native populace. The parallels of these events could be seen at a much later point in history during the Great War."

But it was still a place of learning.

A rather prestigious one, actually. Not only were the staffs professional Huntsmen and Huntresses with plenty of combat experience, they were also certified teaching professionals in their respective fields. Take Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, Beacon's resident historian.

Although he's considered a Professor by his peers, he'd much rather be called by his preferred title of Doctor. Like some of his colleagues, he put a lot of effort to achieving that title and it would be remiss if he wasn't addressed as such.

"Also," the historian began, "I am aware that all of you here are new as you are in your first year of education, but I implore you to not hesitate and learn from your seniors both academically and in the field. Remember, this is a Huntsman Academy. Any mistakes made here are certainly more dangerous than the ones made in a normal learning institution as not only do you have to worry about the Grimm you will be facing in your careers, but also yourself as an individual."

The educator paused, letting his words sink into his students' mind. Behind a pair of round glasses, a pair of sapphire eyes darted across the room analyzing the faces of each and every student present.

"Now, are there any questions?"

As expected, silence greeted him.

"If that is all, then, you are dismissed." As if on cue, the bell went off.

Still sitting on her seat was one Pyrrha Nikos who looked visibly distressed. Although it had lessened over time, it was still clear that something was bugging the Mistrali champion fighter. With her head hanged low and her eyes absently staring at nothing, it was only the nudge of a hammer wielding girl that managed to shake her out of her funk.

"Hey," Nora said with a voice that was noticeably less chipper than her usual self. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Pyrrha turned her head to look at her fellow girl, managing a small smile despite feeling down. "I'm fine. I'm just…" she trailed off.

"You're worried," said Ren who was standing beside his childhood friend. Out of the three of them, he's the only one who didn't look different outwardly. On the inside, however, he too shared his friends' worry. "We're worried too, Pyrrha."

"I still can't believe they won't let us see Jauney," Nora murmured, her gaze downcast. "At least tell us what happened with him… it's been three days already!"

Ren placed a comforting hand on the ginger girl's shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing manner the girl was used to. Sighing, Pyrrha finally made the decision to stand up. She was the first one to notice Jaune missing from their room as she was also the first to wake up. She thought he'd woken up early and went to class first, but the fact that his uniform was still folded and bed practically untouched quickly shut down that notion.

Since Jaune was their leader, she had his Scroll ID on her own Scroll but after several unanswered calls later, she knew something was wrong. Quickly, she dialed the staff members and informed them of their leader's absence thus prompting a swift reaction from the faculty. At this point, she was still not too worried as she thought Jaune could've been busy or misplaced his Scroll.

But when miss Goodwitch herself informed them that they'd found Jaune unconscious in the Emerald Forest alone, her worry shot through the roof.

The remaining members of team JNPR exited the lecture hall to the hallway outside. Not long after, they were approached by a quartet of girls whom they were acquainted with.

"Yo," Yang greeted them. Although that hint of 'Yang-ness' was still very much presence, it was mostly subdued out of respect for the other team's predicament. "How are you guys faring?"

"We're doing okay," Ren answered evenly, "but we're worried about Jaune."

"They're still not telling you anything?" Surprisingly, it was Blake who asked. The frown on the monochromatic girl's face deepened when the remaining members of team JNPR shook their heads at the same time. "That's suspicious…"

"Tell me about it," Nora griped, crossing her arms.

"H-Hey," Ruby began, drawing everyone's attention to her. "But Jaune's fine, right? He's okay, isn't he?" she asked, while her hands were gripping the hem of her skirt.

Outside of team JNPR themselves, Ruby was probably the only one who shared the same amount of worry for the blonde leader. Not only did he save her back during Initiation, he was also the very first friend she made at Beacon, so it made sense that she would worry.

"I'm sure Arc is fine, Ruby." The Atlesian team leader said in an attempt to placate her partner's worry. "Although Blake's right; the lack of news from the faculty is concerning."

Pyrrha pursed her lips. "I'm going to go to the infirmary, make them tell me what's wrong with my partner." She decided, saying her words with a tone of certainty.

"I-I don't think that's a wise idea, Pyrrha…" Weiss tried telling the other girl. "As concerning as it is, I'm sure they have a valid reason why-"

"'Valid' was two days ago," the edge that was present in Pyrrha's tone surprised everyone else present, but no more than Weiss herself. "Now they're just being unreasonable. Jaune's our leader and we have every right to know how is he doing after a potentially dangerous accident that needed him to be locked away inside a medical ward for three days straight."

It wasn't until she finished her speech that Pyrrha realized how heated she'd gotten. Not only had she surprised Weiss, but even her own teammates were looking at her weirdly, as if she'd sprouted a second head.

"S-Sorry," the champion fighter was quick to apologize, "I didn't mean to…"

"N-No, it's fine…" Weiss shook her head, sucking in a deep intake of air as she recomposed herself. "It's… understandable."

'Despite only having known each other for less than a week, Pyrrha's already getting mad over her leader…' Meanwhile, her first few days as a Beacon student started with her fighting with her very own partner over the nature of their team's leadership.

She had a verbal spat with Ruby two days ago, as she had been released during the same time they announced Jaune's foreseeable stay in the medical ward. It stemmed from a very small disagreement over something trivial, but it quickly escalated into name calling and even bigger arguments. But after a little bit of counseling by their Grimm Studies professor and Headmaster, they managed to see past their differences.

But even so, she wasn't too sure if her own team members would display the same amount of worry if she was the one cooped up instead.

"Look," Yang said, stepping in before the mood could turn even more south, "whatever happened to Jaune, I'm sure they have it under control. I mean, they patched up my sister good. See?" She then began ruffling her sister's hair, as if to prove her point.

"Yaaaang!"

Sighing, the tenseness present on Pyrrha's shoulders lessened. "I'm sure you're right, but I'm going to ask the Headmaster anyway. Thank you, Yang. And I'm sorry for snapping at you, Weiss."

After a few more brief exchange of words, the two teams went their separate ways. While team JNPR made their way towards Beacon Tower, team RWBY headed towards the mess hall. Along the way, with the memory of The Invincible Girl's rare display of heat still fresh on her mind, the blond bombshell of the team opened up conversation once again.

"Say, do you think Pyrrha has the hots for Jaune or something?" Yang suddenly asked.

"What makes you say that?" Blake asked her partner with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh I don't know, the fact that she looked like she was about to throw hands with our leader when she talked smack about Jaune back there?" Just for saying that, Ruby elbowed her on the ribs. "Ooof!"

"First of all, I wasn't talking 'smack' about anyone." Weiss gave the taller girl an icy look. "Secondly, I highly doubt that is the case."

"Oh yeah, then what do you think?" Yang asked, while nursing the spot where her sister had jabbed her at.

"When Jaune first met Pyrrha, I was there. Unlike everyone else, he seemed to not recognize who Pyrrha was." She began, recounting the event clearly in her head. "I guess Pyrrha, who was so used to being treated like a celebrity, found it refreshing – perhaps even relieving that she was finally able to find someone who treated her like any other person and not a… celebrity."

"...gee, sounds like you knew a thing or two about that." Yang commented. "Experience?"

Weiss Schnee sighed. "…you can say that."

Being a millennia old immortal wizard had bestowed Ozpin with insights that no mere person could ever achieve in a life time. He'd experienced it all, from joyous victories to bloody betrayals, he'd bloodied his hands enough times to the point where it's useless to try and wash them, and he'd seen his fair share of strange happenings. Although... his nature was something more along the lines of instantaneous reincarnation rather than true immortality. Every time he'd die, his soul would be transported to the body of a new host and he got to see everything happen again.

This never-ending cycle of life and death had instilled a sense of preparation in him. He would always prepare for things, especially when it came to dealing with her. He knew that, unlike him, she had no problem when it came to sheer numbers alone.

So with that in mind…

Was the boy currently being held in the infirmary one of her people?

"Sir," the voice of his Deputy Headmistress came from the intercom speaker on his desk, "team JNPR is requesting news about their leader… again. Miss Nikos is very insistent they get to see him. Should I turn them away?"

Ozpin took a moment to respond. "No. Tell them that I'll be waiting for them in my office, Glynda. I think it's about time for mister Arc's friend to get the answers they want."

"...very well, sir."

Reclining further into the backrest of his chair, the Headmaster of Beacon Academy sat in silence as he waited for team JNPR – sans Jaune – to arrive.

Needless to say, it's quite the situation they've found themselves in. Mr Arc was not really a known factor to begin with; he never accounted for an Arc – especially the family's heir himself – to enroll in Beacon in the first place! Having an Arc among Beacon's ranks could definitely be a boon to their efforts in fighting off the Grimm threat, but after recent events… even he's not too sure himself.

The sound of a familiar electronic chime took Ozpin off his thoughts. The elevator doors opened and three people stepped out, they're none other than the rest of Team JNPR.

"JNPR," Ozpin regarded them as he stood up from his chair, "let us cut to the chase, shall we? Mr Arc is fine. He is not hurt, ill, nor has anything bad happened to him." The Headmaster observed the teenagers' reaction, noticing their countenance visibly lifting.

"If he's fine, then why can't we see him?" Nora asked. She sounded firmer; less clueless.

Ozpin nodded. "It's because Mr Arc requested it himself," he didn't miss the look of surprise on each of their faces.

"But… why?" There was hollowness in Pyrrha's voice. Her mind seemingly unable to comprehend their leader's decision. "Why would Jaune not want us to see him?"

"As much as I do not want to say this… it is not my secret to share." Ozpin's words only caused even more confusion to pile on top of the already existing one. "If you want to get any answers, you will have to ask Mr Arc yourself."

"Can we talk to him, then?" Ren asked, noticeably calmer than his peers. "If Jaune doesn't want us to see him, then that means we can at least talk to him." Their eyes might just be playing tricks with them, but they swore that they saw the corner of Ozpin's lips tugging upwards.

"Well said, Mr Lie."

Bringing up his monitor, Ozpin tapped a few buttons on his Scroll. The monitor's screen lit up, showing nothing but an 'Audio Only' sign. Realizing what's happening, Pyrrha was the first one out of three to open her mouth first.

"Jaune! Jaune can you hear me?"

"...Pyrrha?"

Their leader's voice came out small, but it had more to do with the volume in which he's speaking instead of the speakers. Although the camera was not showing anything, JNPR could sense the fatigue and uncertainty coming from their leader's voice.

"Are… are you okay, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.

"I'm… I'm fine. I'm not hurt… but I don't want to-to see you…"

There's a reason why Ozpin was letting them do this was because he wanted to get answers of his own from Jaune. Despite having secluded himself, Jaune had yet to say a single thing to them. Ozpin and his staffs tried questioning him, and although Jaune had been cooperative in answering questions, he had a feeling that the boy wasn't exactly forthcoming when it came to several things.

Until now, Ozpin and his team only knew two things about Jaune's condition: it began with a dream and that he's potentially a danger to those around him.

He hoped that by allowing Jaune's team talk to him he'd get to open up and shed a little bit more light about his situation.

"But why, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked her leader. "Why-what is wrong with you to not want us to see you?"

"...heh," it was a chuckle, but there was no amusement in it. Nothing but a hollow ring. "What isn't wrong with me."

Silence descended into the office, even Ozpin himself felt the rising tension. He looked to Pyrrha, hoping that the girl would say more just to get the flow of conversation going.

"You... want to see me? Fine." There was no anger, but rather the resigned voice of a tired boy. "Let them see me, Headmaster."

"...are you sure, Mr Arc?" He asked the boy austerely.

"Yes. I know I can't keep hiding from them… it's bound to happen sooner or later."

"Very well, Mr Arc." The monitor turned off, possibly from Jaune's end. The Headmaster picked up his staff as he walked away from his desk towards the teenagers still standing there in visible confusion.

"What," Nora asked, "what did Jauney mean by that?"

"I think... Mr Arc has realized that some secrets are not worth keeping," Ozpin told them while hailing the elevator simultaneously, "especially when it could jeopardize the relationship he's going to eventually form with his fellow students."

The man then ushered the students to enter the elevator. Pyrrha saw him push several combinations of buttons rather than just one. "What's going on? Where are we headed?"

"We're going to see Mr Arc."

"But isn't he in the infirmary?" Ren questioned.

"No," Ozpin said with a shake of his head. "He's been relocated somewhere else; a place where he 'can't harm anyone'. That is what he said himself."

After hearing that, Pyrrha could only wonder. 'Jaune… what's going on…'

She knew that something was wrong; she knew it. From the moment Beacon didn't allow them to visit Jaune in the infirmary, she knew that something more was going on behind the scene, but she'd never thought it would be from Jaune's own behest. She had so many questions about her partner and she's afraid that she's going to push him away in the process of getting them.

The elevator descended far deeper underneath Beacon. When the doors slide open, they were greeted by a long narrow hallway with candles as the only light source. Despite having only candles illuminating their path, it was well lit enough that all of them could navigate their way comfortably. Ozpin, naturally, took the lead, walking several steps ahead of his students.

"Where are we?" Nora asked with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

"We are directly underneath Beacon in an unlisted underground section of the school." Somehow, Ozpin managed to say this with a smile on his face. "This part of the school is well kept secret, so please, do kindly refrain from telling the other students about it."

"What happens if word does get out?" Nora asked again.

"Let's just say that detention will be the least of your worries…"

Ozpin led them to a high-tech security door with a side panel attached to the wall, presumably for access. Just as they thought, the Headmaster began interfacing with the panels, pushing several combinations of numbers and completing a series of bio-metric scans.

A whirring noise was heard from the door as it collapsed open, allowing them entry to a dark chamber.

"Mister Arc," Ozpin called out to the boy who had voluntarily shut himself away, "your team is here to see you."

It was dark. With no light on, one might as well be blind. When Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren stepped into the room they were only able to see with what little light that managed to bleed through the hallway. Yet despite it being dark, the room was properly ventilated. It was not suffocating and it was quite spacious. But they're not here for a dark room; they're here for the boy who had locked himself in here.

From the corner of the room, two glowing red orbs appeared, sending shivers down the students' spine. The mere sight of those orbs triggered their fight or flight instinct and then shutting it down at the same time. It occurred to them that they're looking at a pair of eyes; Jaune's eyes.

"...Jaune?" Pyrrha called out, her voice filled with uncertainty and apprehension.

Stepping out of the shadow and into what little light they had, was Jaune Arc. Immediately, the three of them could tell that something was wrong.

Remnant was home to people with very unique physical characteristics; take Ren for example. Magenta eyes weren't common as far as he knew it to be, but did it mean anything? Probably, probably not. Another example would be the Schnee's. A family with leucism – not albinism – in their genes. Although having white hair may not be as unique as, let's say, having magenta eyes, it's still very curious that a whole lineage of people would produce offspring with the same white hair and blue eyes trait consistently throughout so many generations.

Again, did it mean anything? Probably, probably not.

But Jaune's case wasn't just a matter of having white hair or weirdly colored eyes. Oh no. At a glance, it was very obvious that he was a one of a kind; an outlier. If the Schnee's were blessed with white hair, then his was ivory. It was borderline eerie, which was further emphasized by his other features. Skin so pale that blood vessels were visible in some areas and those eyes… those haunting red eyes that looked like they shouldn't belong on a person…

In their minds, it was clear. The three of them thought of the same thing.

"...a Grimm."

But it was Ren who verbally voiced their thoughts.

"No." The answer came quick, like a reflex. "I am not a Grimm. I'm not one of them."

Pyrrha audibly gulped. "T-Then… how… why…?" She wanted to say so many things, but she found herself unable to voice out even the simplest of questions.

"It's… complicated," Jaune's face contorted in mental anguish, almost as if he was reliving a very bad memory. "But I am willing to explain everything… you deserve that much."

Ozpin perked up. This was what he was looking for. But he couldn't be too quick to react; he needed Jaune's teammates to do the first move. Like the experienced strategist he was, Ozpin waited.

"What," Ren, who had found his voice, began, "are you?"

"...I'm a human boy like you are, Ren."

This time, Pyrrha found it in herself to muster her voice. "What happened…? What happened to you, Jaune?"

"When I was ten years old I began having horrible dreams – nightmares, essentially – they're so real I often mistook them for memories." The self-proclaimed aberration closed his eyes shut. "Then one day, I… I… snapped."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed.

"I snapped, I turned… feral, there's no other way to put it. My dad, he… he had to subdue me himself… tied me to a chair and all… there was blood, my blood and his… he… he was hurt as a result."

That sent legitimate chills down Ozpin's spine. The current head of the Arc family was a very skilled Huntsman with decades of experience under his belt. To be able to hurt a Huntsman seriously despite only being a child at that time was just… unthinkable; and horrifying.

"...so I trained, I trained by myself. I trained to fight, to suppress this… bloody urge, and I've been trying…" As he spoke, his voice grew even shakier. This was no longer a boy speaking; this was a boy on the verge of breaking down. He was hunched over, his knees on the floor.

He opened his Grimm-like eyes, tears flowing from the corners.

"...I'm not a monster." He whispered, "please..."

Nora was shocked. She was probably the quietest she'd been ever since she stepped foot in Beacon. When she first saw Jaune, she thought that he was just trying to be mysterious or look cool by wearing that stuffy thing over his head. She'd read enough comic books to know the tropes that followed such a character; she even found it charming herself.

During Initiation, she – like everyone else who was watching – was very impressed at the skills the questionably edgy edgelord displayed. Not only did he look the part, but he could also do the things those type of characters do, which was very cool of him. But now… she didn't know what to feel. Like Ren, she'd encountered a variety of people in the wilderness. From good folks to not-so-good folks.

And she could confidently say that Jaune was not the latter.

Without saying a single word, Nora Valkyrie rushed towards the boy hurting at the other end of the room. Her action caught everyone by surprise, but not herself. No. Her arms, although shorter in length, managed to wrap around the boy's figure in a full embrace. She buried her face into his chest and she smiled when she heard something beating underneath it.

"Nora?!" Ren exclaimed in surprise, seeing his childhood friend at the position she's in.

Pyrrha, too, was surprised. But, unlike Ren, she wasn't able to react as verbally.

Living the life she lived, Nora recognized the look on Jaune's face. She'd seen the same expression reflected on the mirror countless times every night she spent alone living in the streets as an abandoned orphan. She saw the same look of hurt, of fear, of wanting to be accepted… just on a different face.

She never thought that seeing them on another person's face would make her feel so… terrible.

"...it's alright, Jaune," gently, she said his name as she moved her mouth to speak, "you're not a monster."

Jaune's eyes slowly widened as the words registered into his mind.

...so many names, they call me...

Devil, Demon, Evil Spirit…

...Monster.

So many names… but similar meanings…

"After all, monsters don't cry."

Jaune was too shocked to even move. He knelt there, motionless, as a girl hugged him and assured him he was not a monster. How many nights of fighting Grimm? How many literal sleepless nights went by of him thinking that he was something much, much worse? He remembered the way his sisters looked at him, the way they'd start leaving the room whenever he's present, the way they'd flinch when they notice him…

He'd spent the better half of his life convincing himself that he's going to Beacon to find answers when he knew that it wasn't the complete truth.

He didn't come to Beacon just because he's afraid he might lose control and kill everyone around him. He came to Beacon because he didn't want to feel like a monster.

Now that his features were permanent, there's no way he could hide it anymore. People were bound to ask questions; some might even feel compelled to act in the way they saw fit.

Although he's confident that the school wouldn't allow anything serious to happen since he's technically a student of Beacon, there's no denying the fact that his four years in Beacon was going to be difficult.

But he couldn't care less about the words of strangers, it's only painful when his family began looking at him as if he's ticking bomb. And since his team was essentially going to be his family in Beacon… he couldn't bare the thought of them looking at him the same way his real family did back at home.

So when Nora said he wasn't a monster, he felt relieved. Very relieved. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, as if the reassurance itself was enough to… absolve him of every sins he'd unknowingly committed.

Pyrrha chose that moment to walk towards them, the champion fighter then took a knee, and joined in on the embrace. She hugged Jaune, and by extension Nora, tightly. She went as far as to bury her face into his hair, smothering herself in it.

The Mistrali champion could feel the same type of warmth radiating from Jaune that she'd associate when she'd, let's say, hug one of her parents. She'd wrestled with Grimm before. They're cold and unfeeling to the touch. There was no warmth to be held, barely any substance.

But that familiar human touch was there when she went to hug Jaune.

'This boy couldn't be a monster,' she thought. 'A monster wouldn't be able to tell between friend or foe. A monster would've ended the lives of everyone in that forest.' She reasoned with herself.

Ren, seeing the scene, could no longer just stand and do nothing. How could he? When his own childhood friend had taken the first step to embrace the other boy, how could he just stand still, akin to an emotionless and unfeeling statue, and still think that what he's thinking of was right?

It's hard to ignore the similarities between his leader and the creatures of darkness he's learning to kill. When he first laid eyes on Jaune's new features, he was sure that he's what a Grimm looked like if they were more human.

But maybe he was wrong? Maybe he was a boy like him, after all? Jaune said it himself earlier: 'I'm a boy like you are, Ren'.

When it came to Grimm, he knew his Grimm. After all, one specific type was responsible for the death of his people and the destruction of his home. But Ren reminded himself that there were still things he did not know about, he'd yet to explore the entirety of Remnant and see everything the world had to offer.

So what if there's a boy who look exactly like what a Grimm should be if it was human?

If that boy could cry and feel – even without using his Semblance – anguish, why did it matter if that boy look or act a little bit different?

With a single step, Lie Ren began to walk towards his team. He knelt down, and although he may not join in on the embrace, he placed a comforting hand on his leader's back.

That was enough to break the dam.

For the first time in seven years, Jaune Arc cried what he considered as real human tears; not those ones born out of frustration or pain at not being able to fully suppress his nature. He cried like any other boy his age would when they're overwhelmed with emotion. Feelings he thought he'd suppressed were gushing out of him in the form of tears and his cries.

Ozpin watched it all happen with a soft smile on his face. For now, he'd learned enough. Mister Arc was not the threat he thought him to be, he's just like any other students he'd let into his school. Just a boy with his unique set of circumstances and issues.

But Ozpin knew there was no time to get complacent. His nemesis had eyes and ears everywhere, so there's a very high chance that she and company had already begun making their move.

Steadying himself, Ozpin tapped his cane on the floor.

It's about time to induct the newest generation of pieces into the board. A little bit too early than usual, but there's no other choice.

"I hate to interrupt this tearful moment," he began grimly, "but I have to ask the four of you a very important question."

Team JNPR looked to the Headmaster as one.

"What is your favorite fairy tale?"

"...how long has it been since It last showed Itself?"

"A very long time…"

"Indeed. Yet this time, It has taken a different approach. Rather than taking the form of a terrible natural disaster or a deadly plague… It has chosen to manifest in the form of a human person… how… interesting."

"...Remnant is not prepared for this development. Even with the war currently being waged behind the scenes, It's presence – when made into flesh – in the world can potentially be far more catastrophic than the previous ones."

"Indeed. Humanity has survived through even the toughest disasters, they have developed immunity to diseases that were once considered deadly… even I shudder to think what It could do in the form of a man."

"...if Humanity survive through all of this, surely, they are worthy."

"… if they survive."

"...truly, you are the darker one, Brother…"

Did I fucking lie again?

I guess I did.

Well, here's a chapter, sooner than expected. Don't get me wrong, I'm still busting my ass studying for exams, but I'm comfortable enough to put in some time to write during my rest period.

I don't go out often in the first place with the lock down and all, and I burned through friends during high school.

God I'm lonely.

So, here we are, Jaune's teammates got to see and learn a few things about him. I hate to be broken record, but REMEMBER: do not trust Jaune when it comes to what his power really is.

I'm fully aware I'm bad at writing drama, but I think I did a decent job with the way I portrayed a couple of teenagers trying to be there for their new friend, a friend that they're going to eventually develop a very strong bond with due to the nature of their career as Huntsmen/Huntresses. Sometimes we forget that these kids are still, well, kids. They might have Dragon Ball-style power ups and military grade weapons, but a kid's a kid no matter how you slice it.

...okay, bad mental image.

With that said, I shall be returning to my studies. Expect the next update to be in the Year of Our Lord 2022. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it and may you have a happy New Year.