Ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual

Fair warning for this chapter being a little dark. It's intended as the final act of the story and leading into a descent into darkness before the climactic final stages of the fic. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I personally think warnings like this are no better than spoilers, and just ruin the surprise, but enough people complained about me having Jaune shoot Ruby without a "trigger warning" that I can't be bothered to deal with it again.


Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 31


Emerald always did as she was told, even when that meant being traded away like some collectable card to who Cinder called an ally, but who Mercury quietly referred to as a psychopath. For once, Emerald agreed with the moron. Cinder killed, but when she did it always seemed more elegant, more refined. Only those that needed to die did so, and only when they couldn't be manipulated into doing what she wanted. Despite their aims, the only people they'd really tried to kill was Amber, and she needed to die because there was no other way for Cinder to take her power.

Jaune Arc was different. He killed everyone.

Not everyone, but close enough that Emerald felt nausea well up in her throat when Cinder promised her aid away to them in exchange for Neo's. She'd wanted to ask what that girl had that she didn't, promise to follow every order and beg Cinder not to leave her here. All of what would have disappointed Cinder, though. Emerald had bit her lip instead. Now, she was regretting it.

"If Cinder's intel is good then Chivalric Arms is keeping its people in a travel hotel down by the docks, they've rented out a whole floor. We're looking at over a hundred personnel, twenty-five guards to one-twenty-five engineers and staff for Amity."

"It's pointless going for them." Jaune said brashly. He was sat in the front passenger seat of the car Roman had pulled into a layby. The windows were tinted but Emerald still felt awkward in the back seat every time a person walked by outside. "They're not going to keep their secret stuff in the same place as their public side. These probably are genuine engineers. There's nothing to gain."

"We know that. Cinder knows that. Chivalric Arms knows that. Vale doesn't, and that's the point."

Roman opened his window a crack, just enough to let the cigar smoke pool out. It was late outside, the sun set, and the city lit up by lamps and the occasional car whooshing by. The pitter-patter of rain on the roof and down the windows echoed loudly, broken by the splash of wheels on tarmac. A peaceful night, she couldn't help but think. Not a good night for wanton murder.

"Cinder wants us to cause a scene." Roman continued. "Much as I hate that, I see the point. We've both got to keep Vale worrying about us, so they give control of the city's security to Atlas and also plant the idea of where your sister is on Chivalric Arms' radar."

"I'd rather hit another lab than a hotel, Roman. There could be innocent people there."

"At this point we don't even know if they have any more secret labs in the area. Not much point them making one if all their test subjects have been freed. We could be looking for one for months without any luck."

"I guess so. If it doesn't matter what we hit or where, we might as well go for the public angle." Jaune Arc sighed quietly.

Emerald wanted to laugh. That was it? He talked like he regretted what he was doing and didn't want to go on a killing spree, but all he could muster when the idea was laid down was a sigh. Actions spoke louder than words, and his actions weren't impressing her. Why did Cinder want this guy on their side so bad? His Semblance, obviously, but there had to be more to it than that. He was a nutcase. A proper, old-fashioned serial killer.

The dangerous and unpredictable type.

"Remember," Cinder's voice played in her memory. "Whatever you do, you must not try and use your Semblance on him. Not once. If he uses his and counters it, he will kill you. I want you back from this alive, Emerald. Do whatever they say."

Not `he might be able to kill you` but `he will kill you`. She might have taken that kind of certainty as an insult at any other time, but the way Cinder said it made it clear it was a foregone conclusion. It probably was. Her Semblance was incredible, it made her special and it was the reason Cinder wanted her so, but it was a non-combat Semblance. It didn't hurt or injure the foe unless she used it specifically to make that happen. As such, if she used it on Jaune Arc and he turned it off with his, along with her aura, she'd be helpless. Dead.

Emerald shivered in the backseat, drawing her feet up onto the faux-leather.

"We don't actually need to go on a killing spree," Roman said. "I'd prefer it if you- if we, I mean we, didn't." Nice attempt, not that Emerald thought anyone missed his little slip. "We just need to go against their security and make the effort. Whether it works or not won't change the fact this'll be splashed over the papers tomorrow morning. That enough for Cinder?"

It took her a second to realise Roman was asking her the question. "Y-Yes. As long as there's some chaos that will make Vale nervous, that's fine. We want Amity airborne, too, so it might not be a good idea to kill the people who are going to make that happen."

"There you have it. We go in hard, do what we have to and get out. That alright?"

"It's fine." Jaune Arc sounded impatient. Emerald tried to tell herself it wasn't impatience to kill. "You don't need to explain this to me, Roman."

"See. I feel like I do, otherwise you're going to go off the deep end. This isn't like the last times where we had someone to look for. This isn't going to feel like a win when we leave empty handed, but it will be."

"I get it. As long as Cinder helps me attack Beacon to get to Amber, I don't care."

Roman drew a deep breath. "Even if that means killing people?"

"I've already killed people." Jaune Arc said. "What's a few more at this point?"

/-/

Jaune was angry.

It probably wouldn't have come as a surprise to Roman, and it probably didn't cause any revelations in the green-haired girl travelling reluctantly with them. He wasn't blind to how little she liked him, which was fine. He didn't expect Neo would like Cinder and Mercury much either, and they weren't here to make friends. It wasn't her or Cinder which had his blood boiling, however. It was everything – and possibly everyone – else.

Don't cross any lines you can't come back from. He'd tried his level best to follow that advice from his dad, and all he'd got from it was a fat load of nothing. He made sure to only kill those working for Chivalric Arms, he tried to spare those he could and he'd even done his best to protect civilians where possible, all in the hope the world might take some small amount of notice, that someone might care enough to notice that what Atlas and CA were saying about him didn't add up.

It never did. Not once.

Then, the one time he'd fucked up and made a mistake, the world jumped on him. Shooting that girl was a mistake. It wasn't one he regretted. Even now, as much as he wished he did, he still felt a rush of satisfaction at the memory of the look on that blonde bitch's face. The horror on Blake's, too. In an ideal world he'd have rather planted those bullets in her instead, but it had been worth it in a disgusting and horrible way he wished he didn't feel.

That didn't change the fact it was a mistake, though. He admitted it. The girl hadn't deserved to be shot and he'd crossed a line. One line, and not even in a tenth the way that Chivalric Arms had, and he was instantly the worst villain in history. He had a death sentence on him. Hilarious. Ridiculous. Unfair. Fucking typical.

They kill my father, kidnap my family and conduct inhumane experiments on us, and no one cares. I hurt one huntress, even after she and her friends kill my mother, and suddenly I'm the worst scum on Remnant.

It was a comedy – it had to be! He'd never understood the idea that comedy could be tragedy, or what they said about being the same, but now he did. The people of Atlas didn't care that their Kingdom was conducting illegal human experimentation. It was easier to not know and live without the guilt. Easier to call him a liar and a terrorist and let him be tortured and killed in the name of justice and honour.

Vale didn't care that its huntresses had killed his mother along with a whole bunch of faunus. Those faunus had sided with the enemy, so they all got to die. That was it. Did it matter that Vale's laws said even hardened criminals had to be tried in court? Nope. Not when the alternative was admitting their Kingdom was anything less than perfect. White Fang dead, Jaune Arc bad and those innocent hostages killed by the wreckage? Yeah, they were all probably executed by Jaune Arc anyway. He's a psychopath after all. Let's blame everything on him.

He hadn't grown up doubting people like that. He'd been called sweet, compassionate and even naïve, always seeing the best in people even when they didn't deserve it. Then again, didn't most people? You never questioned the big, bad things going on behind the scenes because you didn't believe they existed and, if they were revealed, you accepted the Government's claims that they were necessary, not so bad or for the greater good. Or you labelled them conspiracy theories and forgot all about them. Easy enough to do.

Fuck people. They were selfish, heartless and stupid fucks. He was, too, of course. Selfish enough to want to save his family no matter what, but at least he recognised that what he did was terrible, which he liked to think made him better than the fuckwits decrying him as pure, unadulterated evil for snapping and hurting a girl who wasn't half as innocent as Vale liked to think.

And his reward? Blame. He was the monster, they went free as poor victims of his cruelty, and now to top it off, Beacon even had his sister. Therefore, Beacon knew his claims were true. Beacon – or at least its headmaster – knew that he was the victim of human experimentation and false accusations. He could have revealed her, challenged Atlas and brought Chivalric Arms to justice. Had he? Of course not. He'd sided with Atlas in wanting him dead. Out the way.

He looked up at the glass front doors of the hotel, his hood up and covering his face as his boots splashed down on the sidewalk, taking him up the steps to the automatic doors that swished open. Warm air hit his face, drying the moisture as the warm light highlighted his furious snarl.

Jaune Arc was angry.

And if it didn't matter what lines he crossed, if Vale, Atlas and the public of Remnant were going to intentionally ignore every drop of mercy, compassion and honour he showed, and only highlight every mistake, then what was the point of trying? What was the point of breaking his back to be the good person when he couldn't so much as exist without being blamed for murder? Tonight, he would be a psychopath whether he killed one person, one thousand people, or no one. It literally didn't matter what he did.

Atlas, Vale, Beacon and even Blake wanted him labelled a monster.

So be it.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Hotel guests and staff screamed and hit the ground as three shots discharged up into the air. Glasses shattered on the marble floor and people began to cry and beg and wail, a cacophony of voices that grated on his ears.

"SILENCE!" he roared, shooting one more time upward. Apart from the occasional whimper and sob, no one dared make a sound. Women clung to their children, wrapping hands over their mouths, while hotel staff crouched by the doors and elevators, shaking like leaves. "The first person to move dies. I won't warn you twice."

"Fuck, kid!" he heard Roman whisper.

Emerald, hood up and a bandanna wrapped around the lower half of her face, stuck close to the thief, all but hiding behind his white coat. What did they want? Really? He'd been told to cause a scene and that didn't mean playing fucking snooker on the hotel's table, did it? Cinder needed Vale in shambles. He needed Vale in shambles.

Jaune ignored it and stomped over to the main desk. There was a woman behind it, down on her knees and desperately trying to hide under the counter. Her hair was a dark brown and tied up in a bun. He'd have felt bad for the tear tracks down her face if it wasn't for the fact his sisters had spent the night crying at how their mother was ripped away from them, impregnated against her will and then fucking murdered by Vale. His patience was too thin to care.

"Up!" He gripped an arm and wrenched the woman to her feet, then pushed her to the counter. She fell and slapped her arms over it, whimpering and crying fitfully. For fuck's sake. "Tell me what floor Chivalric Arms have rented out!"

"I-I'm sorry. P-Please don't kill me. I don't want to-"

He pushed the barrel of his gun into the back of her head and shouted, "Tell me what floor Chivalric Arms are on! NOW!"

The woman jerkily started to go through her computer. It was slow thanks to how badly she was shaking, fingers hitting the wrong keys and making everything take twice as long as it should. Her loud crying didn't help.

Did she think she had reason to cry? She got to come out of this alive and would go back to her safe life where she didn't have to worry about being experimented on for something that wasn't their fault. She didn't need to worry about armed military coming after her, huntsmen killing her family or having her sister abducted and kept drugged in someone's basement. Pain may have been relative, but he couldn't respect hers.

"Floor three!" she gasped wetly. "T-They're on floor free. Please, I did what you said-"

He walked away before she could finish. Maybe she cried in relief, maybe she fainted or maybe she ducked under the desk to curl into a ball and pee herself. He didn't know or care. "Floor three," he said to Roman and Emerald as he passed them by. "Take the stairs. I'll use the elevator."

"You sure that's wise? They might turn it off."

Jaune fixed the hotelier by the elevator with a stare and watched the boy sweat. "I'll kill him if he does," he said, loud enough for the boy to hear. He stood by him, watching as the boy – more a man, really, but looking younger with how scared he was – opened the door and waved him inside. "Floor three." Jaune said politely, holding his gun downward against his thighs.

"Y-Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

The bellboy stepped in and pushed the button, closing the doors and leaving Emerald and Roman to take the safer route. Jaune breathed out through his nose as the elevator music played, sparing a quick look to the hotelier stood hunched against the buttons, shoulders stiff and eyes fixed on the wall, acting for all the world like if he pretended Jaune wasn't there, he wouldn't have to die. Would saying he didn't plan to kill him even matter?

"Oi."

The man flinched. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"Go back down to the lobby when I reach floor three. You can leave when you do. Go home."

The bellboy started to weep quietly, frame shaking. Jaune sighed and closed his eyes, giving up the attempt. He obviously thought it cruel mockery before he was to be executed, like a spider toying with its prey by pulling its wings off one by one.

No one would believe him, whether he said they wouldn't die or whether he went out his way not to hurt anyone who wasn't involved. It literally didn't matter. Mom always used to say actions spoke louder than words, but apparently some people had louder voices. When Atlas said you were guilty, it didn't matter if you proved them wrong. They decided what was real and what was not.

Nothing I do matters. It never has. It didn't matter to Atlas, it didn't matter to Blake and it doesn't matter to this man here, or anyone in Vale. Kill a hundred people and I'm a psychopath. Dedicate my life to rescuing abused children and I'm a psychopath.

It. Did. Not. Matter.

Only Amber did. Only Amber.

The elevator pinged as it reached the third floor, and the bellboy reached open to push the button and open the door.

The hotelier died.

Blood splashed over Jaune's chest and face, blown back out the man's body as gunfire ripped into and through him. What bullets pierced through ricocheted off Jaune's aura, some down, some up and some back into the corpse of the man sent staggering back into him. Jaune stared over the dying or dead man's shoulder, eyes narrowing on two men in full black armour wielding submachineguns.

It didn't matter what he did, who he tried to spare or what he tried to prove, because at the end of the day he was one person and Chivalric Arms were a wealthy company. Their word matter more than his did.

Something snapped.

Dully, Jaune was aware that it was probably his mind.

/-/

Roman puffed and panted as he hurried up the marble staircase, one hand on the banister and swinging himself around the corners. Emerald was on his heel and doing a little better than he was, showing either how old he was or how unfit. He had Melodic Cudgel tucked under one arm and was using his hand on the railing to spin himself round another corner and pass the sign boldly marking the third floor ahead.

"Why did he go on his own?" Emerald asked, wishing Roman would speed up. "Is he an idiot?"

"His Semblance," Roman yelled back. "It's as useful as getting us killed as his enemies. If there's fighting, don't fight near him," he warned. "You'll only open yourself up to getting shot. Stick back or go for people shooting at us."

His Semblance again. Emerald hissed under her breath. If only her Semblance was that useful, Cinder would never need anyone else. "If he dies Cinder will have our heads!"

The third floor landing came up quickly and Roman paused to catch his breath, hands on his knees. The fire doors were shut but would open with a push. Emerald placed her hand on one and then froze as a gunshot cracked down the hall.

"Ah, fuck me," Roman whined. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"He might need our help!" Emerald said.

"He won't," Roman said miserably.

It was like Roman didn't even care about the person who got him out of a cell. Emerald scowled his way and pushed through the door, foot splashing down on the carpet. Splashing? Her head tilted, left foot rising to check her sole for dog foul, only to realise the puddle she was in was bright red and spilling across the hall. Emerald didn't scream, but only because the sound got trapped in her throat.

The dead body lay on its side, curled toward her with arms limply laying on either side of her legs. It was a man, she thought – hard to tell with the gasmask – and that signalled strong enough that it wasn't some random civilian. The guy had a submachinegun at his side, a belt with a pistol holstered and several grenades attached. All of that paled in comparison to the three holes in his back from which his lifeblood had already stopped running. The red trails down his uniform told her it had been.

CRACK!

Emerald flinched, but the noise was distant. Stepping over the dead body, hearing Roman cursing a bloody storm behind her, she picked her way past two closed doors to the corner of the corridor. The first thing she saw was the open elevator and the dead bellboy inside. The walls and floor of it were smeared with blood like someone had stuck a person in a blender and set it to max. It was honestly like a scene from one of those cheap horror flicks Mercury liked so much. Emerald silently promised to never insult him over those again and wasn't sure she could watch them without flinching now.

Reaching the intersection where the corridors split off from the elevator, she looked around in time to see Jaune Arc stood with his foot on a person's chest. They were alive, she noted. Wounded and bleeding, but clutching one hand to their stomach, their own weapon discarded and laying by their side. Jaune wasn't wounded.

Thank fuck for that. Cinder would be furious if he died. He got a prisoner, too. That's good. I can use my Semblance to-

Jaune Arc's finger drew back on the trigger.

CRACK!

The soldier's body bucked once and lay still, the hand he'd been holding to his stomach flopping off and to the side. Emerald stared, mouth dry and brain for a moment empty. Even at her worst, she didn't think she'd ever seen Cinder coldly execute someone. The sound of her swallowing echoed in her ears.

"W-What was that for!?" she demanded, wishing her words didn't stutter. "I can't use my Semblance on a dead body. Isn't the whole point of this to make them aware your sister is trapped in Beacon, you stupid psychopat-"

Jaune Arc turned around.

Emerald's words turned to ice on her lips. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and cold and for a moment looking like they didn't see her but just someone else he could kill. There was blood splashed up his chest, face and arms, but it obviously didn't bother him. He was breathing lightly. Enough to show he was warmed up and had been running, but not enough to even suggest panic or even excitement.

He looked bored. No, not bored, that implied he wanted to stop and do something else. Resigned implied he'd given up on not, and that didn't fit either. He looked… He looked natural. He looked like this was his default position, like when Cinder frowned without realising it, a natural state of being that didn't mean anything other than that it was her relaxed stance when she let her guard down.

All of a sudden, she realised why Roman didn't bother worrying about him. More than that, she understood why Roman sounded so resigned, so tired, and honestly, though he tried to hide it, why it sounded like Roman subtly hoped Jaune Arc would die. In that moment, she found herself wishing he'd died as well.

This man, this monster, would drag them all down with him.

"Chivalric Arms were expecting us."

It took her a moment to realise he was talking to her, mostly because his voice was so out of place. People should sound a little more involved when they were stepping off the body of someone they'd killed. Even a nutjob like Mercury at least had the heart to sound pleased when he murdered someone. In the most morbid sense possible, she'd rather her killer enjoy the act of ending her life than give as few shits as Jaune Arc did.

"W-What?" she stammered, flinching out his way when he came near. Her back pressed into the wall of the corridor to let him pass.

"This was meant to be staff and security. It's their special forces, and they were waiting for me."

"We had no hand in that! Cinder wasn't aware!"

"I know." He looked to her with his brows drawn down, more curious as to why she sounded defensive than upset. It was so baffling she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "This was clearly a trap laid by them for me. They knew I'd come looking for them, so they rented out a floor and set a trap here. Where's Roman?"

"B-Behind. He's catching his breath…"

"Hm. I guess we don't really need him for this."

He reached down and tried a door handle. It rattled but held still. Without a word, he brought his gun up and fired three times around the handle. One echoed with a more metallic impact through the thick wooden door, and when he tried the handle again, the door swung inward. He stepped in with his gun held out, and Emerald followed, more because Cinder needed her to plant the knowledge of Amber being in Beacon in someone's head than because she wanted to watch how Jaune Arc hurt someone.

Luckily for both her and said metaphorical people, there was no one inside the room.

"They must have moved their staff out." Emerald said. "Even if they're pure evil, it's just inefficient to get your people killed when they don't need to be." A sickening thought ripped through her stomach. "Wait, what if this place is rigged to blow!?"

"It isn't."

Excuse her if the words of a serial killer with absolutely no reason to know that didn't convince her. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm too valuable to burn to a crisp or crush under rubble," he explained quietly, leading her out the door and shooting his way through the one opposite. Like the first, it was empty. "Chivalric Arms would rather have me alive so they can pick me apart, clone or force me to inseminate other people. Use my body for their own ends. Even if they did want me dead, they'd do it in a way that didn't damage my body like explosives would."

"H-How are you so blasé about that?"

"It is what it is," he said. "We're not going to find anyone to use your Semblance on."

Crap. Well, she couldn't say this was entirely his fault if it was a trap. The CA soldiers wouldn't have stopped unless they were killed, and she wasn't sure what else he could have done. Hopefully, Cinder would understand and give them a second chance.

Bright white light suddenly shone in through the third floor window, streaking down the corridor and blinding them all. Jaune grunted and held an arm up before his eyes, while Emerald swore and checked her bandanna, pulling it tight over her jaw and nose. Outside, the spotlight of a Bullhead was beaming through the window. Several more came on, loud clacking sounds from outside as beams of light rose up and into the air before being levelled on their windows from down below.

"Jaune Arc." a loud and powerful voice boomed, amplified through a megaphone or speaker system. Roman had just caught up with them and swore viciously. "You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up and surrender, or we shall send teams inside to dislodge you." The voice paused before continuing. "There is still time to end this peacefully."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Roman bent his cane over his knee. "This is it. We're done. I never should have shacked up with you."

Emerald didn't feel much better, but she wasn't ready to give up either. If she could find her way to a higher floor, she could use her Semblance to convince a family to see her as one of theirs or sneak out with the evacuees and trick an Atlas soldier into seeing her as wounded. There were ways out yet, though she couldn't say the same for them.

Jaune Arc approached the window and looked out. She did behind him, wincing at the sight of what looked to be six military vehicles stood before at least forty police cars. Bright lines were shining up, while four Bullheads hovered nearby and General James Ironwood himself stood at the bottom of the steps, lit by a spotlight from one of the Bullheads, with a megaphone in hand. She'd hazard a guess the sodding Vanguard itself was floating above the hotel with a whole flipping battalion stationed and ready to go.

"Would that do…?"

Emerald felt she could be forgiven for the stupid "Bwuh?" sound she made toward Jaune.

"For a scene," he explained. "Cinder wanted us to make a scene. Will this do?"

For the life of her, she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Y-Yeah. I think it'll do… b-but what about convincing CA to look into Beacon? That's Atlas out there. They're not the same."

"No, but they'll be watching, won't they? Watching to see what happens to their precious Subject 000 and if they need to steal me away from Atlas." Jaune turned away from the window, eyes narrowing on the closest body on the floor.

"Are you kidding? The whole world will be watching this…"

Jaune Arc smiled. There was no warmth in it.

"Good."

/-/

"This is General James Ironwood speaking. Come out and surrender. I will personally assure you a fair trial, legal representation and a chance to plead your case. Come out peacefully. There is still time to make this right."

James lowered the megaphone and sighed angrily. His eyes roamed over the nearby civilians stacked by open-backed ambulances, paramedics checking them over for any injuries. So far there were none, and while he liked to think that spoke well of their chances today, his gut instinct suggested otherwise.

Winter stepped up to his side. "Sir."

"Report."

"We can't reach the upper floors for fear of causing a confrontation," Winter reported. "Our men are stationed on the first floor staircases, more ready to enter through the roof. I've instructed both teams to hold lest we spark gunfire. Upper teams are ordered to secure and extract civilians to the roof for airlift and prioritise holding the stairs over any engagement. Vine Zeki has liaised with the hotel management and has accessed a way to call phones on upper floors. We have a team of people going through each phone to instruct families to stay in their rooms and not come out unless they receive a given password verbally through the door."

"Good work, Specialist."

The panic couldn't be stopped in its entirety and some people on floors fifth and up were waving their hands out the window pleading for rescue. He wished he could shout up to them, but it would only place them in worse danger. None had jumped, which was a welcome relief. That kind of drop wouldn't be halted by netting. Still, it was hard to ignore their pleas, even though they seemed to think rescue was as simple as a Bullhead hovering next to their window.

"Keep the police back," he ordered her. "This is to be a military operation. They'll be massacred if they go in. If they cause problems, push them toward extraction and let them busy themselves protecting the civilians."

"Sir." Winter saluted. "Do you think he will surrender, sir? He is surrounded…"

A window shattered outward and something hurled into the open air to be immediately cast in shadow by the bright spotlights angled upward. It hurtled down, tumbling and turning before striking the marble steps at the front of the hotel and exploding in a gory shower of blood and bone with a meaty splat.

Onlookers screamed. Those fools who were clamouring by the tape to watch the siege of the hotel like it was some kind of soap drama suddenly realised just how real it was and began to scatter. Police swore and aimed their guns upwards, and soldiers had to hold paramedics back from rushing forward and risking their lives to check on what was quite clearly a very dead person.

No scream, James told himself. The man hadn't died from the impact.

"No, Winter," he said conversationally, "I don't think he will…"


Memories of Hellsing Abridged, I guess. I'd say Hellsing Ultimate, but honestly my experience in a lot of anime nowadays really is their abridged series. They just do it better, especially SAO Abridged. What an amazing character study that was despite it's ridiculous comedy. I genuinely started to feel for Kirito as a real, messed up person.

Anyway, speaking of messed up people. Jaune. I've heard it said and learned in my psychology A-level (not sure what equivalent grade that would be in the US) that sorrow and anger aren't where a person is most likely to break, but hope. People break either when they are forced to place all their hope in one thing, or when they run out of hope. Jaune is fast running out of people he feels he can have any hope in. Atlas let him down, Blake let him down, basic concepts such as justice have let him down and now even Beacon has let him down. He knows he can't trust Roman or Cinder either, so there's no hope in him there. The only thing he has left is the prospect of saving Amber and then, through means he doesn't himself know, everything just sort of working out. A very literal step 1) save Amber, step 2) ? and step 3) profit scenario.

Jaune is breaking. Null is ascending.

This is probably the point in a kinder series where he would find solace in the warm grasp of Pyrrha Nikos, be supported by his friends and healed. Who are his friends in this story again? Oh yeah, Adam and Blake...

No wonder he's messed up...


Next Chapter: 21st September

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur