Content Warning: Referenced sexual assault of a prisoner, referenced attempted sexual assault of a minor, general horrific behavior, ptsd, attempted suicide, and an unprovoked attack on a puppy. Seriously, stuff gets dark in this chapter, so heads-up.

[/]

My dearest sister,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health. I am settling in comfortably at Beacon, and I fully believe that I will thrive here. Sadly, I was not selected as team leader, but fear not, as my team - Team RWBY - has a capable leader at the helm in Ruby Rose. Ruby is a prodigy, who was advanced two years ahead in her studies, and is an empathetic, charismatic leader and an unparalleled genius in the field of engineering weapons and armor. After some initial….awkwardness, due to my childish resentment of not being selected as leader, we have become simply the best of friends.

My other two teammates are similarly exceptional individuals. Blake Belladonna is the daughter of the founders of the White Fang, but fear not, for her parents are actually staunch pacifists, and their daughter, while not as strict in adherence to a doctrine of nonviolence, nevertheless possesses a sterling moral compass and is possessed of impeccable character. She also possesses just the most darling little furry kitty ears, but due to the general awkwardness of our family's history, I have yet to work up the courage to ask if I may pet them. In any event, I am deeply hopeful that forging a deeper understanding between the two of us could form an important step in bringing lasting peace - a just peace - between our two peoples.

Finally, my last teammate is Ruby's older sister, Yang. Yang is...a person! A person who will suffer and bleed if she does not stop reading my private correspondence over my shoulder!

Such, then, is Team RWBY, but there is much more that I must tell you, dearest sister.

As you know, while I was proud to have earned my right to attend the institution of my choice and depart Atlas in its entirety, I was also heartbroken due to the prospect of leaving Jaune behind. So it was the greatest, most joyful surprise of my life to learn that he had been recruited to attend Beacon, by no less a figure than Headmaster Ozpin himself. He even brought along Percival, who remains just the best boy in all the world! However, I must state my extreme displeasure at the nature of the... tasks to which General Ironwood set my Jaune to carrying out. He struggles with the guilt that he carries due to the atrocities he performed at the behest of the man who raised him, and I find that my fury at General Ironwood knows no bounds.

Know this, Winter: I will not allow him, or anyone to abuse Jaune's gifts and turn him to ignoble ends. Never again. Anyone who tries - anyone - will be met with such blood and fury as to make the gods themselves tremble, irrespective of your fealty to such figures. You have been warned.

Still, Jaune speaks of you with fondness, so I can only assume that you did not play a part in the worst actions that Jaune had been manipulated into carrying out. It is...Winter, it is nothing short of amazing to witness who Jaune is becoming. He is the last son of an old and respected noble family here in Vale - I dearly anticipate the day when Jaune, whom our father had scorned, is able to look at father and disdainfully refer to him as "new money" - and has begun the path to earning the traditional knighthood of the Kingdom of Vale. He is blooming, like a seed finally planted in the rich soil needed to grow and thrive. Jaune is bold and strong, eloquent in speech and cunning in battle. He challenges us to bring our best selves to the fore, and to refine them to a degree that none of us had thought possible to attain. Most of all he is good sister, so good and pure of heart that it takes my breath away.

I am in love, Winter. I am deeply, hopelessly in love with him, and I could not be happier. And I cannot begin to describe what joy it is to know that one such as him loves me as well. It is a warmth that not even the coldest Atlesian night could leech away.

Worry not for me, beloved sister, as I can state, with all confidence, that this is the best time of my life.

Your sister,

Weiss Schnee

P.S. I hereby reserve the name "Whisper Schnee" for my first daughter with Jaune. Should you object, I advise you to settle down with someone yourself, lest your younger sister find herself happily wed while you remain an aging spinstress.

[/]

Winter scoffed as she read her sister's postscript. Weiss had been teasing her for years about the desolate, sterile ruin that was her love life, especially as Winter began nearing thirty years of age. It wasn't that Winter was asexual or anything of the sort, it was just that her work left her little time for such personal pursuits. Still, that "aging spinstress" crack would require some form of retribution in the future. She was only twenty-seven, after all! There would be plenty of time for such pursuits later on, right?

It was good to know that Weiss was just the happiest little snowflake at Beacon, but Winter was disturbed by what her sister had had to say about Jaune and The General. She had been surprised, to say the very least, to discover that the young cadet had been summarily dismissed from the Vanguard Program. Seventeen years of training and conditioning had been undone in a moment. General Ironwood had been livid to discover that the ultimate cause of Jaune's sudden defiance had been a girl, of all things, let alone Winter's little sister. He had given her a truly dirty look, muttering something unkind about "soft women ruining soldiers" before dismissing her from his office.

If what Jaune had been telling her sister was at all true, then Winter was glad that Jaune had been taken to Beacon. She didn't know what atrocities, exactly, to which Weiss had referred, but she knew that Jaune had been involved in counterinsurgency operations against the White Fang, operations that had escalated in their...intensity, the past few years. Hell she could scarcely deal with some of the things that she'd been called upon to do, and she'd been a career soldier for years.

She frowned as she folded up Weiss's letter and stored it in her pocket. The General had asked to see her in his office later, so if nothing else, there was an opportunity for her to confront him about what had happened to the Vanguard Project's prime candidate.

An hour later, she knocked on the door to The General's office.

"Come in," he said.

General Ironwood looked rough. He had bags under his eyes, his black hair had grown unruly past the regulation cut, and he bore a thick, bushy beard. Winter, for one, thought it a bad sign for a consummate soldier to present himself in such a fashion, but it wasn't her place to criticize her superior officer.

"Specialist," he greeted with a nod. "Take a seat."

As she sat down, he stared out of a window overlooking the city of Atlas. "I understand that morale has been...flagging, due to the setback that the Vanguard Project suffered."

That was as close as he would ever give to offering her an opportunity to speak her mind. "Sir," she began. "With respect, the Vanguard Project was flawed from the beginning. Taking a child and raising him to know nothing but war...Cadet Arc was as fine a soldier as any I have ever seen, but he would have suffered severe mental and emotional issues later in life, issues that would have ultimately destroyed his combat effectiveness."

"The long-term stability of the Vanguard Candidate was never my concern, Specialist, only his capability to carry out his mission to completion."

Well. Jaune's long-term stability was very much Winter's concern. She'd grown fond of the dolt, and while her introducing him to her sister had been meant as an exercise in socialization instead of matchmaking, the growing romance that had formed between the pair as they'd matured had eased some of Winter's own guilty conscience regarding Jaune's circumstances. It had been...nice, to see something worthwhile come of such grim origins. Still, The General's lack of concern meant something…

"His mission was meant to be a short-term one?" she asked.

The General nodded. "Relatively speaking, of course. He was meant to end the war."

Winter arched an eyebrow. "The war? What war?"

"The only war that matters, Specialist. The war between Humanity and the Grimm. The Forever War."

Slowly, Winter shook her head. "Sir, as capable as Arc may have been, there's no way that he could have eliminated the Creatures of Grimm."

The General turned around to face her directly. "There is far more in play than you, or nearly anyone else, has been made aware," he said, his eyes alight with a sort of fevered passion. "Elements that have shaped the past of our world, and will, in time, shape its future. Tell me, Winter...what is your favorite fairy tale?"

Winter felt her apprehension grow as The General began to speak madness. Of ancient gods who brought the Creatures of Grimm into this world, of wizards and maidens, and of relics of untold power. The General spoke of magic.

"Sir," Winter finally began, very carefully keeping her face and voice as calm and neutral as she could. "Even if what you say is true, how could we even begin to make an impact against such forces? Ours is a battle of conventional strength at arms, not...not magic."

"We begin by placing as much of that power under proper control as quickly as possible. We have one of the four Maidens, the Winter Maiden, here at Atlas. Only a woman can serve as the vessel for her power, and I mean for that woman to be you. Beginning with the Winter Maiden, we will systematically infuse you with their power, producing a second soldier that is capable of standing with the Vanguard."

She stared out him. "Infuse me? How do you mean to do that?"

"Let me show you."

He led her down and down and down, to a hidden laboratory that even she never knew existed. The room was dominated by a large machine of brushed steel, which looked as if it held two coffins upright within it. Captain Clover Ebi saluted as they approached.

"At ease, Captain," The General said. "Is he ready?"

"Yes sir," Clover nodded. "We're having him escorted here now."

"Excellent."

Winter wanted to ask who was coming, and why, but held her tongue in order to find out what was happening. Better they think her to still be the obedient soldier. After a few moments, a pair of common soldiers escorted Lieutenant Marrow Amin, a promising young Faunus officer, into the room before saluting and withdrawing.

Marrow stood at attention before The General, who nodded. "Thank you for coming, Lieutenant. As you know, we have been reviewing your records and capabilities for potential recruitment into the ranks of the Specialists. As you are no doubt aware, you would be the first Faunus to attain such a rank within the Atlas Armed Forces. Your capabilities are impressive, and your mission record impeccable. As such, I am inclined to grant such a promotion, but before I do so, I would like to see your unique Semblance in action for myself."

The dog Faunus tried to keep his face a professional mask, but he couldn't quite keep his furry tail from lifting and wagging happily at The General's assessment. "Of course, sir," he said.

The General nodded. "Captain Ebi will serve as your target. Captain?"

Clover stepped towards Marrow, when the Faunus gestured towards him. "Stay," the Lieutenant commanded. Captain Ebi froze in midstep.

"Can he hear me?" The General asked. Marrow nodded, keeping his gaze locked on the Captain. "Captain Ebi, if you can, continue stepping towards the Lieutenant." He watched as the Captain remained frozen in place. "Impressive," he congratulated Marrow. "How extensively can you use it?"

"The Aura drain on keeping a target locked is negligible, sir," Marrow answered. "However, switching between targets, or keeping a greater number of targets locked down will drain my Aura rapidly."

The General nodded again in acknowledgement. "You may release him now, Lieutenant." As Clover slumped and stumbled forward, taken off-balance by suddenly being able to move under his own power once more, The General offered his hand to Marrow. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Amin. I am approving your promotion to the ranks of the Specialists."

Marrow couldn't stop himself from smiling widely, his tail wagging freely and happily as he became the first Faunus Specialist in the Atlas Armed Forces. Ironwood clapped Amin on the shoulder. "Clover," he said.

As soon as The General uttered his name, Captain Ebi fired a gravity Dust bola at the dog Faunus, restricting the young officer's arms and legs and causing him to crash to the ground.

"Sir? What is this?" he asked, genuinely confused.

The General sighed sadly, signalling for a pair of technicians to haul Amin to his feet and drag him towards the machine. "For what it's worth, you really are a fine soldier," The General told the dog Faunus as he attempted to struggle out of his bonds. "This is no punishment for anything that you have done. However, the life of a soldier is sacrifice for the greater good, as is his death."

"Sir! Sir, why?!" For the life of him, Lieutenant Marrow Amin couldn't understand why his General had turned on him.

"I'm sorry, Specialist," The General said, his voice soft and somber as the containment chamber sealed with an airtight hiss. "Take heart that your sacrifice will be remembered."

With that, The General entered the second chamber built into the machine. As Winter watched, the machine fired up. Marrow began to scream, while The General grit his teeth. To her horror, Marrow seemed to wilt before her eyes. As Marrow's Aura levels read total depletion, The General's Aura surged beyond its total capacity, before the bar representing his total pool of available Aura grew longer, to represent his increased base-level Aura reserves.

It took a long, long time for Marrow Amin, the first Faunus Specialist, to die.

When the containment chambers opened, The General stepped out, as the husk of Marrow Amin fell limply to the ground. The Faunus looked as if he'd been dead and mummified for ages, his flesh shrink-wrapped to his bones and his jaw locked open in a silent rictus scream. Clover stepped forward and hefted the corpse in his arms, turning to pull it from the room.

"Hold a moment," The General ordered. He approached the body and then reached into his pocket. He pinned the gilded insignia of the Specialists onto Marrow's jacket. "Thank you for your service," he said, his tone solemn and grave. "Captain Ebi."

"Sir."

"After you've disposed of the body, prepare a statement. The White Fang took poorly to Lieutenant Amin's elevation, and ambushed the first Faunus Specialist, denouncing him as a race traitor. Though he fought bravely, Specialist Amin was unfortunately slain, a tragic end to a promising young officer."

"As you say, sir," Captain Ebi nodded, and continued to drag Marrow's corpse away.

"Winter," The General called to her.

"Sir."

He held out a hand to her, in the same gesture that Marrow had used. "Stay."

Winter fought to keep her panic under control as she realized that she couldn't move, or breathe, or so much as blink. After a moment, The General dropped the gesture, releasing her from his control.

"Good," he said. "The procedure was a complete success." He straightened his collar.

"Sir…" Winter began.

"Speak freely," The General ordered, gesturing for her to follow as he began to leave the facility.

"Sir, this is...this is Project Vanguard?"

"Allow me to enlighten you to a terrible secret, Specialist. The gods have never been on our side. Gods, Maidens, the immortal Queen of the Grimm, all of them seek our destruction. Humanity needs a champion of its own, a Vanguard, one ready and able to contend with the gods themselves if need be. A thousand, thousand souls in one, acting under one, indomitable will." He glanced over at her. "Do you think me power-hungry, Specialist? It was meant to be Arc, but he, like so many others, proved incapable of using such power appropriately, with decisive will. And so the burden falls to me. A part of me always knew it would."

"...What about the other candidates?"

"Soldiers die, Specialist, whether in battle itself or in the taking of the steps necessary to procure victory. Their sacrifice will also be remembered."

"How many?"

He hesitated. "Not enough. Still not enough. I had asked Ozpin to transfer some of his forces with uniquely powerful Semblances to Project Vanguard, but he...took umbrage to the lengths to which I was prepared to go. Our alliance is strained at the moment."

Well, she couldn't exactly blame the man. It was taking all of her soldier's discipline to refrain from screaming in mortal fucking terror and fleeing from the monster before her with all speed.

"Understand, there's no sacrifice that I won't make to keep humanity safe," Ironwood told her. "I was the only one willing to make the hard choices, to perform the ruthless calculus needed to bring the Forever War to a favorable end. Now you have that same choice, Winter."

He stopped before an observation window, where an old woman, wrinkled with age, rested on a hospital cot. "The Winter Maiden," he said. "Soon, you will have the opportunity to prove to me that you have the mettle to serve as a champion of humanity."

[/]

Where do I even begin to describe Nora Valkyrie?

For her friends, we all use her name as a shorthand for the force of nature that she is, as well as the impact that she has on our lives. "What happened?" "Nora." "Fair enough."

But to simply consider her a destructive force is to do the girl a disservice. I once underestimated her mental and emotional resilience, and that is not a mistake that I intend to ever repeat. Nora is neither stupid nor insane. Rather, life has taken so much from her from such a young age that she takes what joy she can find, wherever she can find it, and enjoys it to its fullest possible extent, knowing that there is no guarantee that she will ever find such joy again.

Nora is wise.

While the others have taught me much, it is Nora who has taught me how to find joy in things other than my Weiss and Percival. Simple pleasures, such as relaxing in the grass on a pleasant autumn afternoon, splashing our bare feet in a creek, or pranking Yang by adding dye to her shampoo.

Yes, Yang, that was us. It serves you right for reading my journal. And no, you still may not read my poetry notebook, so you can sit there and be angry, with your half-lavender hair.

As I said: the simple pleasures.

Nora possesses unseen depths. She's the best mathematician of the lot of us, barring the specialized calculations pertaining to engineering arms and armor that Ruby mastered. Oftentimes, people will espy Nora and Ren studying together, and assume that it is he who is patiently tutoring her. If the subject is of math and the sciences, it is almost certainly the other way around. Ren is much more of an abstract and holistic thinker, though that is a subject for his own entry.

The two of them are inseparable, to such an extent that it's easy to fall into the habit of addressing them as a single individual, affectionately nicknamed "Renora." Though they do have their differences, theirs is a relationship born of bearing hardship together from a young age, even younger than when Weiss and I met. I once asked Pyrrha if she thought I should be concerned about their romantic attraction affecting team cohesion, to which she plopped her forehead onto her desk with a groan and lamented that "if even Jaune can see it, why can't they?"

I feel as though I should take offense to the wording of that question, though I know not, precisely, why.

Shut up, Yang. And stop reading my journal.

I have no doubt that they are meant to be together. Some souls were simply forged to fit just so with one another.

I don't know why Nora, who has never shied away from seizing her joy with both hands, and who has never faced a challenge without a happy grin on her face, is so hesitant to make her feelings known to the object of her affections. It is not my place to pry, though if either of them were to come to me with advice, I would freely offer it. I merely hope that I can guide our team through the challenges that their relationship could pose.

That does not mean that I would not find joy in their union.

"From the Journals of Sir Jaune d'Arc the Preserver, Champion of Vale," Arc Family Archives, Château d'Arc.

[/]

It was a beautiful day for an outing at Forever Fall. The weather was just at the right balance between warm and crisp, comfortable and soothing with a light breeze. As they had been assigned, Team JNPR was hard at work filling jars of the famous sap of Forever Fall, the sweet liquid congealing in the containers set by Jaune's feet.

Upon Ren's advice, Team JNPR's leader had handed a smaller bottle to Nora, and told her that she was only to drink sap from that bottle, and to return it to Jaune when she wanted a refill. She had agreed, and so by pacing her, they found her a pleasant balance to where she had a lovely sugar buzz going, but was still in control and tummy ache-free.

As a result, Nora was happily frolicking - and there was no other word for it, the girl was outright frolicking - amongst the falling leaves, spinning cheerfully and tossing handfuls of the dry, dark red leaves up into the air, to watch them dance upon the breeze. Percival yipped and chased around behind her, occasionally getting lost in the piles of leaves before popping his snout back out and continuing the chase. Pyrrha had taken to filming them on her Scroll, as part of a video that she was making to show her mother her life as part of Team JNPR.

Nora was always such a force that it was easy to forget how lovely she could be. Ren had one of his rare smiles on his face as he watched her spin, then looked over to where Jaune was sealing up a bottle of sap. The aspiring knight had what could only be described as a smug look on his face as he looked at Ren.

"I know what you're thinking," Ren said.

"Then you'd know what advice I'd offer."

"Then you'd know my concerns."

"Then you'd know that I'd take whatever steps were necessary to ensure that my friends are both safe and happy."

"Then you'd know how grateful I am that we found such a leader as you."

"Then you'd know how grateful I am to have such friends and companions as you."

They shared a chuckle at their implied conversation.

"You boys are deeply weird," Pyrrha said, shaking her head fondly.

Jaune was about to offer a retort, when Pyrrha gasped. He turned around just in time to witness a bottle of sap crash directly onto Nora's head, shattering and spilling Forever Fall sap all over both the girl and the puppy.

"What the -"

Nora was cut off as a swarm of rapier wasps descended upon her and Percival, attracted to the sap. The swarm set upon them with painful stings, causing Nora to screech and flail in an attempt to ward them off.

The other three members of JNPR quickly had their weapons drawn, and tried to defend the others as best they could, but the wasps were small and agile, and none of their weapons were suited to fighting the insectoid Grimm. Percival spun in place attempting to bite the wasps, but they hovered just out of reach, retaliating with their stingers. The poor dog was ultimately forced to seek cover under a pile of leaves.

In the chaos, Jaune noticed a very familiar face watching from a nearby ridge. His expression turned from one of baffled concern to one of cold fury.

Nora collapsed, her face turning blue as she clutched at her throat, wheezing and struggling to breathe.

"She's allergic!" Ren cried out.

"Pyrrha, take her and go!" Jaune barked. "Get to the transport, move!"

The Mistrali champion gathered up Nora in her arms. She crouched, building up her Semblance, before taking off in a black-hued surge of magnetic power, hurling herself through the air towards the clearing where their transport had arrived. The greater part of the swarm followed her, and what few remained nearby was ultimately dispatched with carefully-aimed strikes.

A frightened whine directed Jaune to where Percival had hidden. The dog had several painful-looking swelling lumps on his snout where the wasps had stung him, and he tried to cover his face with his paws.

"Easy," Jaune soothed as he gently picked up his dog. He turned and placed Percival in Ren's arms. "Get him to Weiss, then go to Nora," he ordered the other boy.

"Where are you going?"

Jaune scowled at the ridge where he'd seen Cardin fucking Winchester. "I'm going to end a threat."

[/]

The first indication that things were about to go very wrong for Cardin Winchester was when Russel went flying past him at something approaching terminal velocity.

The second indication was when Dove Bronzewing smashed into the forest floor, his body digging a furrow into the soil from the force of his impact.

The third indication was when an absolutely murderous looking Jaune Arc stalked towards Sky Lark, whose hands trembled as he struggled to keep his halberd leveled at the man. "Start. Running." Arc growled. Sky did as ordered, taking off and leaving Cardin behind without a second thought.

The final indication that things were about to go very wrong for Cardin Winchester was when Jaune Arc surged towards him, a white-gold blur that culminated in a thunderous punch that sent Cardin rocketing through the air. Cardin smashed through a small rock outcropping, hitting the forest floor and rolling rapidly until his back smashed against the trunk of a heavy tree.

Before he could recover, Jaune casually kicked The Executioner away from his grip, then stood Cardin up against the tree.

Jaune went for the throat.

With his left hand, he used the heel of his palm to force Cardin's jaw up, raising his head back and stretching his neck. With his right, he formed a leopard-paw fist, and slammed it, as hard as he could, directly into Cardin's throat. Winchester's Aura flared as it struggled to prevent the horrendous damage that the strike would have caused to the delicate structures of the throat.

Jaune hit him again, a thunderous impact that again caused Cardin's Aura to flare.

Jaune hit him again.

And again.

And again.

He said not a word as he swiftly drained Cardin's Aura in its entirety, stopping when he saw the Aura flicker and shatter. Jaune slammed Cardin against the tree trunk, causing stars to burst behind his vision as the back of his head bounced off the bark. Arc pressed his forearm against Cardin's bruised throat, further straining his ability to breathe.

"I could kill you," Jaune said, his voice oddly calm and monotone. "For what you did to Nora and to Percival. I could kill you and there would be no way for you to stop it."

Cardin's lips worked as he struggled to force air past his bruised trachea. "Please…" he wheezed.

Please, please don't kill me.

Knighthood wasn't all gleaming plate armor and elaborate trash-talking. There were real standards of conduct that knights were expected to hold themselves to, even when it was difficult. Even when there was nothing else in all the world that they would like more than to forget that they had ever believed in those values at all.

Jaune's eyes hardened. "There used to be a soldier, you know. A soldier of Atlas, raised from birth to be a pitiless killer, who never accepted surrender. He was raised to never offer mercy, and he would not have hesitated to ensure that you would die slowly, gasping for air that would never come."

"Please stop," Cardin managed to get out.

"That soldier is gone," Jaune said, releasing Cardin to slump to the ground, gasping at his throat. The true knight granted mercy to those who asked of it. Even if they were unworthy of it. "I'm not that man any longer. Right now, I wish that I was. But I'm not."

Jaune turned around as he heard footsteps rustling through the foliage. Lie Ren emerged from the undergrowth, looking furious beyond reason. He stalked over to Cardin, and without saying a word, pulled out Stormflower, holding the pistol directly to Winchester's head.

"Nora?" Jaune asked.

Ren's gaze was as hard as stone. "Med-evaced. They wouldn't allow me on the transport."

"Percival?"

"Weiss has him. She's livid."

Jaune nodded. "I won't stop you," he said. "If you decide that you must kill this man, then I won't stop you. I won't blame you, either. If Weiss had been attacked, I don't know that I could stop myself either. But if you do kill him, then I won't hide it."

Ren looked to him, confused. Even Cardin seemed puzzled.

"We are men of action." Jaune explained. "Lies do not become us. If you must kill him, then I will stand with you. As your leader, your actions are my responsibility as well. But we will face the consequences of those actions head-on, as men. We will not cower behind deceit."

Ren stared, first at Jaune, then at his gun, and then finally, at Cardin. With a deep sigh, he holstered his weapon. Jaune pulled him into a tight embrace. "I know," he murmured, as Ren struggled to release his tension. "I know."

"Gentlemen."

The three Huntsmen-in-training looked across the way to see Glynda Goodwitch standing across from them, her arms crossed and riding crop in hand. "You must all come with me. We must get to the bottom of what has happened here."

"They!" Cardin gulped, forcing himself to speak. "They attacked me! They're trying to kill me, for no reason! They're insane! Out of their minds!"

"Mister Winchester. You are all men of action. Lies do not become you," she echoed, drawing startled looks from all three men, as they realized that she must have watched the entire encounter. "Come with me."

[/]

The disciplinary hearing was a short one, especially once Pyrrha provided video evidence of the jar having been thrown from the same direction as where Team CRDL had been. While Cardin wanted charges pressed against Jaune for attacking his team, Ozpin ruled that, given the provocation, and Nora Valkyrie's uncertain status, Jaune would not be disciplined for his actions. When Cardin tried to press the issue, Ozpin indicated that, having faced a formal duel, in which he was destroyed, and an informal brawl, in which he was destroyed even worse, a third provocation on Cardin's part towards Team JNPR might have more lethal results, which the faculty could hardly predict...or prevent.

Jaune could scarcely wait to be released, to see his injured teammate. Pyrrha greeted him quietly at the door, indicating that their injured teammate was asleep.

It felt...strange, to see Nora laying so still, so quiet. Even when she slept, she normally tossed and rolled about, spreading out to claim all of the space on her bed - and usually a good chunk of Ren's as well - and snored loudly. She was always so very alive. In the hospital bed, her chest rose and fell steadily with deep breaths, and the heart monitor beeped in steady rhythm.

He smiled down at the sleeping girl. The swelling in her face had mostly gone down. Jaune was about to step back and wait by the door, when those turquoise blue eyes of her opened.

"Ren?" she asked, her voice weak.

Jaune felt his heart clench. "Sorry, Nora. He'll be here as soon as they let him go. I guess I'll just have to be a substitute."

Nora reached out to take his hand. "Is he okay?"

"Ren wasn't hurt at all, he -"

"Jaune." Her voice, though still soft, held an inarguable authority to it. "Is he...okay?"

"He...he almost wasn't. But I stayed with him, and in the end, he decided to do the right thing."

Nora smiled beatifically. "I knew he would. I...I wouldn't have blamed him, you know. Just like I never blamed you. The others, they don't know what it's really like out there, not really. But we do."

Jaune reached over and smoothed Nora's hair, the girl relaxing at the touch.

"We'll keep each other safe," she said. "That's the promise we made the first time we met. The night Ren's town died. Since then, it's always been the two of us. We were in danger a lot when we were little. Easy pickings. There was one time, a nice man got me to follow him by offering me cake. He wanted to do things to me, to...to hurt me. It was when I found out what some people want to do to little girls. He started ripping at my clothes. I hit him with my hammer, but I was small, and starving, and it didn't do much to him. But Ren...Ren found out where I had gone. Soon enough, he was there with his knife, and he stuck him, and stuck him, and stuck him...there was blood everywhere. But in the end, there was just him and me."

Nora smiled at Jaune, tears in her eyes. "Ren is my hero. He'll always be my hero."

Jaune leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Well, maybe I'm not the one who needs to hear you say that." He stood up and looked over to the doorway, where Lie Ren had just arrived. Pyrrha pulled him into an embrace.

"Your hero arrives," Jaune said. "I'll give you two some space."

As he made to leave, Nora called out to him. "Jaune. You were there for him, when he needed someone the most. That makes you my hero too."

[/]

That night, a conspiracy hatched in Beacon, one born of the realization that Team CRDL would face no official sanction for the attack on Nora Valkyrie.

"So, we're agreed?"

Coco Adele, leader of Team CFVY, held court among a group of like-minded students gathered together in the upperclassmen's dorm room after curfew. While the team leaders gathered in a circle in the center, the members of their teams lined the walls.

"That Nora girl could have been killed." Sinmin Megistus, leader of Team SLVR, shook his head. "Arc tried kicking his ass by the rules. Then he kicked his ass on his own. Winchester just doesn't get the memo. If the faculty isn't going to do something to fix Team CRDL, then we will."

"We have to do something!" cried Ruby Rose. "Nora is our friend! And poor Percival! Who attacks a puppy?"

Said puppy whined sadly from where Weiss was holding him in the back of the room. "It's okay, baby, mommy's here," she cooed to the poor canine, hugging him close.

"Right." Coco nodded at the other two team leaders. "We need to send Winchester - and the rest of his team, while we're at it - a message. One that says that if he keeps this shit up, it won't just be Arc and his team that they'll have to deal with."

"I got an idea." Lycan Arcadia of Team SLVR grinned viciously, the wolf Faunus's prominent canines glistening in the dim light. He produced a brick and dropped it into a pillowcase. "We break into their room and bash them in their stupid faces until they can't eat solid foods anymore."

Yang met his feral grin with one of her own. "I like the way you think. Have I mentioned that?"

"Why don't we just let Arc actually straight-up kill him if it's that big a problem?" asked Fox.

Weiss shook her head. "Jaune, he's...he's been through a lot. We need to help him cope with what he's already done, not add more to his burden."

"You've seen his Aura, Fox," Yatsuhashi chided his teammate. "Jaune needs healing, not more violence."

"What's wrong with his Aura?" Weiss asked, concerned.

Fox hesitated. "That's...that's something you should ask the Headmaster," he finally said. "Anyway, we're getting off-track."

"Honestly, I think Plan Brick may actually be our best bet," Coco said, thoughtfully. "If nothing else, it'll get the fucking message across."

Lycan clenched a fist in victory. "All right! Let's do this! Been wanting to beat Winchester's stupid face in since I friggin' got here!"

"We'll need someone skilled in sabotage to sleaze our way past their locks," Ruby pointed out.

"Oh, I got that covered." Blake volunteered.

The archer girl from Team SLVR piped up. "I can help too!"

"All right. Looks like we're resolved. Operation: Brick House is underway."

As Weiss was handed a pillowcase with a brick inside, it occurred to her that, though it may not be genteel, revenge was cathartic as all get-out.

[/]

Winter stole her way through the base. If she were caught, she'd be killed. Or worse. Carefully, she made her way to the room where the Winter Maiden lay resting.

"Hey," she whispered, gently pushing the old woman's shoulder. "Hey. Come with me if you want to live."

"Oh?" the old woman sat up. "What's this now? I thought you were meant to suck me dry like a prune?"

Winter winced. "Well, it turns out that there are some lines that I just can't cross. We need to get you out of here."

"And where to, hmm? I doubt you can drop me off at the local retirement home and call it a day, missy."

Winter bit back the urge to snap at the old woman. She was right, after all. "There's only one man on Remnant who can give The General pause. We must seek his protection." She helped the woman dress, wrapping her in warm furs.

As she escorted the Winter Maiden through the hallways, Winter paused as they neared another chamber. While she was abandoning her post and committing high treason, she might as well add theft of Atlas military property to the list of charges.

After all, she thought wryly. In for a Penny…

Penny hadn't been activated since the disappearance of her creator, Doctor Polendina. Disappearance...While The General had suggested that he had been assassinated to deprive Atlas of his genius, Ironwood had demonstrated a willingness to lie to cover up the death of Atlas personnel on his orders...or by his own hand. Whatever that machine was that made the Vanguard Project possible, Winter knew that it must have had a role in bringing Penny to life. It was possible that Polendina, upon becoming aware of Ironwood's intention for his technology, had objected to such a use, or even threatened to make knowledge of it public.

That would have been the good doctor's final mistake.

Winter wanted to laugh. Or cry. Even if she could carry out such a plan herself and take that knowledge public, to whom could she turn to stop The General? No one in Atlas, that was for damn sure. After all, he had spent considerable time and effort into extending control over the Council - on which he held two seats, glorified military recruitment center that Atlas Academy had become notwithstanding - while removing other councilmembers, digging up leverage on judges and magistrates… Winter's blood ran cold as she realized how much of the work to which she had devoted her life effectively amounted to tightening the noose around her own neck, with a salute and a smile. "Weeding out corruption," The General had called it. No, the only prominent man in Atlas who could even begin to take on The General was her own father, and Winter would sooner drink a powdered glass smoothie than go crawling to him for help. Besides, there was no way that he didn't have something in store for what to do if Jacques proved an obstacle.

James Ironwood might as well have been King of Atlas for all he ruled it. Worse, even, as kings had always been expecting to comport themselves according to tradition. There were no lines, none, that The General would not cross in his crusade, and that notion was terrifying.

Or perhaps Polendina had known better what he was doing after all. On the occasion of his death, some sort of...surge, for lack of a better term, had struck Penny, causing cascade system failures. It may have been some kind of failsafe that Polendina had installed in Penny, in case he believed that her capabilities would have been misused...or it could have been a mechanical manifestation of a teenage girl's grief over losing her father.

Either way, no one else had cared about the android girl herself, only about her capabilities. Ironwood had ordered her to be shut down and stored away until such time as she could be restored to capacity. Winter stole into the room, stalking over to the pod that contained the robotic girl. The similarity of her pod to the containment units built into that infernal machine reinforced her suspicions as to the connection between the two technologies. Swiftly, Winter entered the lines of command into the console mounted next to the pod, codes that would awaken Penny from her stasis.

With a soft whirring sound, Penny's bright green eyes blinked to life. As they focused on her face, the android girl gave a bright, happy smile. "Salutations, Specialist Schnee!"

Okay, so maybe Winter really was a "soft woman" after all. But someone needed to care about Penny for Penny's own sake, and that someone may as well be her. Besides, Winter liked Penny as though she were another younger sister. The girl was enthusiastic and kind, and adorably lacking in guile.

If Winter could see her safe, she would see her safe.

"Hello, Penny," she greeted the android. "You and I are going on a trip."

"A trip? How wonderfully exciting!" Penny's bright smile then dimmed as she recalled something important. "I'm afraid that I have experienced several malfunctions. Primary overdrive protocols are hardlocked and Aura capacity is capped at thirty percent. I'm afraid that I am no longer combat ready," she finished glumly.

"It will be alright, Penny. I'll keep you safe. I promise."

[/]

Lie Ren would make for a fine knight, and that, I believe, says a great deal as to the man's character.

Those who don't know him often believe him to be cold and uncaring, when nothing could be further from the truth. Lie Ren is, by nature, cautious and reserved, measured and controlled, because, if anything, he cares too much. However, he is also very much aware of what could happen were he to lose control, even for a moment, and how much Nora relies on him, just as he relies upon her.

He is tremendous willpower.

The man has also cultivated talents in a great many things. He is a skilled chef, for one, even though his most frequent dish are the simple pancakes which Nora adores. Whenever Team JNPR decides to make use of the common room's kitchen over the cafeteria, it is always because Ren feels the need to exercise his skill in cooking, and we all eagerly await the chance to sample his creations. He paints beautifully, each brushstroke a carefully-considered addition that, on its own, accounts for little, but as one watches the cumulation of his efforts, their interplay reveals each one to be a component of a masterfully composed whole that he had visualized long before ever setting brush to canvas. He also plays the violin, though such occasions have been sadly rare.

The point is, ultimately, that while Lie Ren and I are similar in temperament and disposition, he is a far more well-rounded individual than I. It was on his suggestion to "find a hobby" that I took up composing poetry, the results of which you still may not read, Yang.

I know that you just asked why not - most likely in the specific phrasing of "what gives?" - and the fact that you are asking that question to a private journal that you are not given permission to read should be all the answer that you require.

But of all of the talents that Ren has cultivated, there is none that I admire so much as his in-depth study of Aura. I had been trained to view it as nothing more than another tool in my arsenal, but Ren has come to understand it on a level that few can match. While I have mastered many ways to tear people apart, Ren has learned how to apply his skill to piece people back together on a spiritual level. I stand in awe of such ability.

That is why I freely acknowledge Lie Ren to be the better man.

"From the Journals of Sir Jaune d'Arc the Preserver, Champion of Vale," Arc Family Archives, Château d'Arc.

[/]

"So, what is this about?" Jaune asked the Headmaster, his expression wary.

The white-haired man raised his hands in supplication. "You are not in trouble, if that's what you're thinking. This has nothing to do with the incident a few days ago in Forever Fall."

Indeed, there hadn't been a peep out of Team CRDL since they had limped into class, in crutches and casts, the morning after Forever Fall. Ozpin had quietly taken Cardin aside and pointed out that, in a school populated exclusively by talented warriors, there could be much worse that his peers could have brought to bear than bricks. Perhaps he should reconsider his conduct? Between the demonstration that Ozpin knew about the attack on Team CRDL, and did nothing, and his own team growing mutinous over suffering due to the actions they took at his insistence, Cardin had finally, mercifully, fallen in line and shut his face.

Everyone involved, student and faculty alike, was quietly grateful for that development.

The classroom that Ozpin had led Jaune towards was already occupied. Nora, having recovered from the wasp attack, sat happily next to Pyrrha, who waved hello at him. Weiss held Percival in her arms, fussing over his fur, a sight that made Jaune smile. When Weiss truly loved something, she tended to fuss over them, something she demonstrated as he took a seat next to her, causing her to start fussing over his hair.

The rest of Team RWBY sat nearby, while Lie Ren, Fox Alistair, and Yatsuhashi Daiichi consulted some sort of series of charts or something spread out across a table. Ren was speaking as animatedly as Jaune had ever seen him, apparently in the midst of some kind of disagreement with Fox. Their debate came to a close as Ozpin cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for being here. Now, Mister Arc, as to the purpose of this impromptu gathering. This is a combination counseling session and teaching demonstration, as it pertains to your particular Aura condition. The rest of your team, as well as Team RWBY, are here both to lend moral support as well as to learn about a more in-depth complication of Aura than would typically arise within the ranks of first years. Mister Ren, as I'm sure you are aware, has made a particular study of Aura. Mister Alistair has the unique ability to perceive people via their Aura, and has special insight that the rest of us do not. Finally, Mister Daiichi, while not as sensitive to Aura as the other two, is uniquely qualified, through his Semblance, to detect and possibly even treat the aftereffects of trauma. Now," the Headmaster gestured towards the three students at the front of the room, "would you care to begin with an overview of the deeper Aura theory at play in the case of Mister Arc?"

The three shared a look, and then Ren picked up a chart and pinned it onto the blackboard. The chart looked like a map of the body's circulatory system, but with specific points enlarging as circular nodes. "As you all know, Aura is a force that is manifested by the spiritual phenomenon inherent within humans, Faunus, and natural animals. Upon being unlocked, Aura can be summoned by a conscious force of will. What you may not know, depending on the depth to which you have studied the subject, is that Aura circulates throughout the body, much like blood or breath. The pathways along which Aura circulates, called "meridians," can be traced." He took up a pointer, and used it to trace some of the meridians charted out on the board. "Each meridian has several...confluences, or perhaps "vertices" would be the more accurate translation, which pertain to elements of the spirit that combine to generate Aura."

"There is something deeply wrong with Jaune's Aura," Fox picked up from there. "It's as if it is...churning in on itself, imploding and exploding in sequence, somehow finding some sort of equilibrium in the chaos." He shook his head. "It won't last. It isn't stable, and we need to fix it."

Ren nodded. "From what I can perceive, it's as though he has...closed off some of the meridians of the spirit, collapsing them like the tunnels of Mountain Glenn. To me, it looks like a man suffering the spiritual equivalent of a cardiac arrest, all the time, every day. To be frank, I am astonished that you are able to generate Aura at all, let alone in such quantities."

"Don't worry, it's not the size that counts!" Yang interjected, trying to ease some of the tension. It didn't work, and as her peers shot her a dirty look, she meekly sank back into her seat. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Anyway," Yatsuhashi continued where Ren left off. "I believe that, on the subconscious level, Jaune has effectively strangled part of his own spirit. It's possible that, depending on the nature of his unknown Semblance, he did so in order to protect himself, to protect others, or even to protect the Semblance itself. This could only have come about from a deep, deep trauma. And that's where we need to work together to make a proper diagnosis and attempt treatment."

Ozpin clapped. "Excellent work, all of you. Now, Mister Arc, other assorted students, are there any questions as to the theory at work here?"

Pyrrha politely raised her hand. "Is it possible that someone else closed off these meridians from the outside, to destabilize Jaune's Aura?"

"Not permanently, no," Ozpin answered. "For that to have happened, it would have left Mister Arc totally unable to generate Aura at all...and would have likely been fatal in the process."

"Well, how do we fix it?" Yang asked.

Ren looked to the other two boys who nodded at him. "We work together," he said. "Using his Semblance, Yatsuhashi can trace the trauma back to its source. Using my Semblance, I can keep Jaune in a calm, rational state, and with his Semblance, Fox can communicate telepathically with him, to try to persuade him that it will be safe to reopen those meridians now that he's in a safe place. However, we can do none of this without Jaune's consent. Jaune?"

Jaune took a deep breath. "There are a lot of...bad things up there," he said. "Will you be okay if you go sifting through them?"

Yatsuhashi nodded. "This isn't my first time performing such a task. It would take a great deal to shock me."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Jaune's face. "Afterwards, I suspect you will be saying differently. Headmaster, is this truly necessary to unlock my Semblance?"

"I'm afraid that it is," he confirmed. "Of course, we could try finding other individuals with similar skills to make the attempt, but that would take some considerable time and expense to collect such a team."

"Jaune...please?" Weiss asked him, her crystal blue eyes pleading. "I don't want you to hurt any longer."

Jaune sighed deeply. "Just...whatever you see in there...I'm sorry."

Ren placed a chair in front of the desk. "Please come have a seat, Jaune." As his leader nervously settled into the chair, Ren placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, Jaune. All I want is to help you."

"Okay, Jaune," said Yatsuhashi. "We're going to begin now. Please close your eyes…"

[/]

Content warning: No seriously, if you're squeamish, this is the part where you look away.

Then

Jaune Arc, fourteen years of age, tried not to wince at the screams.

He waited alongside The General at one of the Atlas military's black sites, a foreboding warehouse in Mantle where certain Fang prisoners were taken for enhanced interrogation. The General had taken him to participate in an exercise in breaking a captured insurgent, one who had refused to yield information pertaining to a failed attempt at bombing the Atlas Council chamber. He tried to distract himself by reading the information packet that The General had provided to him, but...well, that was hardly better than the screaming.

He heard a wail, a group of men cheering, and some commotion as the door to the cell swung open. Three soldiers, led by a sergeant, exited the cell, the sergeant pulling up his zipper. "So anyway, that's four out of - General!" The sergeant almost fell over in his haste to stand at attention and salute.

"At ease, sergeant," The General said. "Any word from the prisoner?"

"No, sir," the sergeant shook his head. "She still hasn't said a thing."

"I see. You and your men are dismissed." As the soldiers moved to leave, The General called out. "Oh, and sergeant?"

"Yes, sir."

"The prisoner's treatments are to fulfil a purpose, not for your enjoyment. Remember to ask more questions next time."

"Yes, sir, as you say, sir!"

With that, the soldiers were gone. "Now, Cadet Arc," The General looked down at the boy. "Never forget that. What we do is not to be cruel for the sake of being cruel. There must always be a point to the cruelty."

The General ushered Jaune into the cell. A woman, a young Faunus woman with a leopard tail, lay spread-eagled on the bare steel frame of a boxspring, her hands bound over her head and legs tied to the corners of the frame at her ankles. A portable generator with jumper cables lay nearby, and from the fluids dripping to the floor from between her legs, it was apparent what methods the soldiers who had just been present had utilized on her.

"Cadet Arc," The General said. "If you would please summarize the prisoner's file."

The prisoner looked at them for the first time. "The fuck, is that a kid?"

"Carry on, Cadet."

Jaune began to read the file. "Prisoner Number eight-eight-oh-five-two. Designated Laurel Spott. Female, Faunus, subgenus leopard, age nineteen. Captured attempting to infiltrate Faunus kitchen staff working in the Council building and attempted to smuggle high-yield explosives into the building. Has refused to divulge any information about her cell or the White Fang in general, despite being subjected to stress positions, sleep deprivation, frequent beatings, application of electric shocks, and most recently s-sexual violence." Jaune finished his summation, hoping that The General wouldn't notice his stumble.

"How old is that kid anyway?"

"Don't give me that," The General rolled his eyes. "You yourself are not so much older than he is. Are you saying that the White Fang never began training their recruits in the field?"

The woman coughed. "Is that it? Getting the next generation of human filth ready to put their boots on our throats?"

"Given that you could very well be carrying the next generation of human filth as we speak, it's never too early to get into practice," The General said blandly, causing the Faunus woman to wince. "Now, since you're feeling so talkative today, why don't we get to discussing your cell?"

"There was no cell," she said, the response dull and automatic. "I operated on my own."

"There are far worse things that I could have done to you," The General said softly. "This is your last chance."

"I am an independent hero of the Faunus people," she spat.

The General nodded slowly. "Cadet Arc."

"Sir."

"Why do you think it is that eight-eight-oh-five-two has been so resilient?"

Cadet Arc thought it over. "Neither simple physical violence nor attacks to her mental or emotional states have sufficed thus far. This suggests that she's drawing upon an internal conception to fortify her resolve. Given her statement, it seems likely that she draws strength from her self-image as a hero of the Faunus."

The General nodded. "Good." He strode over to a small table in a corner of the room, where a black toolbox rested. He opened it, then pulled out a large hunting knife. "Take that pride from her," he ordered. The General placed the knife in Jaune's hand. "Sever her tail."

The cadet looked at the knife, then at the woman.

"You can't!" she cried, panicking.

The General put his hand on the cadet's shoulder. "I know that it's difficult. But you and I, we are called upon to shoulder these burdens, so that others will never have to. It's difficult to see from here, but ultimately, this is one of many small steps needed to keep everyone else safe. Trust me."

The cadet steeled his resolve and slowly approached the woman.

Prisoner 88052, designated Laurel Spott, Faunus, subgenus leopard, age nineteen, began to scream as Cadet Jaune Arc, fourteen years old, started sawing through her tail.

When it was done, Cadet Arc stared at his hands. In one, the severed tail of the woman, who alternated between screaming and sobbing. In the other, the bloodied knife with which he'd done the deed.

The General took the tail from Jaune's grip and then wrapped the tail around the prisoner's neck, in a gruesome parody of a scarf.

"Well now," The General addressed the woman. "I suppose those Faunus you champion will hardly recognize you as one of their own now, will they?"

Nothing came from the woman but a soft, keening wail.

"I did warn you," he told her. "Cadet, on me." He led Jaune out of the cell. "The next step is time. Time for the sense of horror and loss to truly set in."

The next time Jaune saw Prisoner 88052, a week later, she was still tied to the boxspring, a pile of waste and filth congealing on the floor underneath her. The severed tail around her neck had begun to rot, with the thick fur falling out from the decaying flesh. Her eyes bulged as she teetered on the brink of madness.

"Hello, eight-eight-oh-five-two," The General said. "Have you reconsidered your stance on silence yet?"

The prisoner set her gaze on him, her eyes wide and feral. "Die."

"Hmm." The General nodded. "You know, I'm actually impressed. Will the Faunus even recognize you for such courage, without the tail? Oh, that's right, the night vision." He returned to the table and pressed the hunting knife, crusted with dried blood on the blade, back into Jaune's hand. "Take her eyes."

Jaune looked at the knife, then at the woman. He took a step towards her.

"Wait!" she cried out, panicked beyond reason. "Wait! I'll talk! I'll talk! Please!"

The General held up a hand, signalling Jaune to halt. "Very good, eight-eight-oh-five-two," he said. "Now, tell me about your cell."

"...White Fang, Beta Cell, Atlas Unit," she said, clenching her eyes closed as tears streaked down her cheeks. "There were eight of us. Our members were…"

As she spoke, The General crossed his arms, nodding at each name listed. Finally, after she wound down to a wracking, sobbing finish, he checked his Scroll. "Well, that certainly matches up with what Captain Ebi had to say after his men finished wiping up Beta Cell."

"What?!"

"Sir?"

Both prisoner and cadet were taken aback at The General's statement. "Hmm? Oh, right, we knew eight-eight-oh-five-two was sent by Beta Cell before we even captured her. Any actionable intelligence that she may have had went obsolete weeks ago, and torture is a poor method of gathering intel in any event."

"Then why?!" the prisoner demanded. "Why all of this? Why?!"

The General just quirked an eyebrow at her. "All that your grand crusade ever amounted to was to serve as an educational demonstration to the cadet here." He gathered Jaune and stood with him by the door as the prisoner begin to howl and scream curses and threats. "Do you see that look on her face?" he asked the Cadet. "That is despair. Despair is the reason for these acts, the reason for the cruelty. Despair is the enemy's weapon, but that weapon can be turned to my purpose as well. To most who knew her, Laurel Spott will have simply disappeared one day, vanished as if she never were. For most, that will be sufficient to keep them in line. They will never know what happened to her, her ultimate fate, and their imagination will fill that void with such horrors as even we could never create. This sends a message to the common Faunus: stay in line, or your friends and family will never know what happened to you. But for the few driven enough to search, what they will find will send a message to the White Fang itself. To resist is to die, and to die hideously. Our willingness to do whatever necessary will deter would-be Fang recruits, cutting off our enemy's recruitment at the source."

If that's true, Jaune had thought, though he would never have dared to contradict The General out loud, then why are we fighting more and more every year?

"At any event, it's time to put an end to this exercise," The General said. He drew his heavy pistol, Due Process, and put it in Jaune's hand. "You may execute the prisoner now."

The prisoner fell quiet as she saw Jaune approach with a gun in his hand.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, please don't kill me."

Despite everything, there was some part of Laurel Spott that had wanted to survive, to see another day. Every breath she drew was an act of defiance, a flicker of hope against the oppressive horror that had subsumed her life.

Jaune raised Due Process and pulled the trigger.

Laurel Spott died. And a part of Jaune Arc died with her.

Please, please don't kill me…

The General placed his hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Good work, cadet." He frowned on the look on Arc's face. "At this point, executing her quickly was merciful. Her sanity would have crumbled the longer it went on. Every time you kill an enemy, remember that you are releasing them from the people that they have become. That's the only mercy you are ever authorized to offer."

[/]

Now

All hell broke loose in the classroom. Lie Ren's nose had begun bleeding from the strain of trying to contain the shock, horror, revulsion, grief, and regret. As he broke the connection, Yatsuhashi staggered away, barely making it to a garbage can in time to vomit out his lunch. Fox Alistair stared, his white eyes wide and unseeing as he raised a shaky finger towards Jaune.

"What the fuck?!" he blurted. "What the fucking fuck?!"

This caused the rest of the students to burst into commotion, trying to figure out what had gone so catastrophically wrong. Jaune tuned it out.

Nothing had gone wrong. At least, nothing as far as the objective of the procedure was concerned. The three Aura specialists were just having difficulty coping with the aftereffects.

Everything that he had repressed that day came roaring back in full force, as fresh as when he had been fourteen years old.

While Crocea Mors was stored away in his locker, due to the small size of its collapsed form, Jaune carried Ascalon everywhere he went. He extended the blade and, before the horrified eyes of his friends and mentor, he turned it on himself.

The tip had just begun to bite into the flesh of his torso when the spear was engulfed in a black-hued Aura, holding it in place with an unbreakable magnetic grip.

"Pyrrha! Pyrrha, no!"

"No!" She stood, arm outstretched, tears falling freely. "You're a fighter, you've always been a fighter, so I refuse to let you give up!"

"Let me go!"

"Never!"

"Jaune!" Weiss crashed into him, giving Pyrrha the opportunity to yank the weapon into her hand. She held him tightly, sobbing. "If you want to hurt yourself, you'll have to go through me to do it! You'd be cutting out my heart anyway…" she broke down crying against his chest.

Yang looked around at the chaos. "What happened?"

"I am a monster," Jaune said. "I deserve to die."

"I'll be the judge of that," Ozpin spoke up, sharply. "Jaune Arc, you are under standing orders to never attempt suicide again!" The part of Ozma that had been Charles d'Arc le Magne had gone into a panic at seeing his grandson attempt to take his own life. "Are my orders clear?"

"...yes, sir," Jaune said, subdued.

"Give me your word," Ozpin pressed.

"I swear, as an Arc, that I will not attempt suicide again," he said.

"Now," Ozpin continued, "explain to us exactly what happened. What did you see?"

Jaune looked down at Weiss, who refused to let him go. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

He told them all the truth, the entire, horrible, bloody truth, and waited for them to condemn him. Yatsuhashi then testified as to what he saw, confirming Jaune's story. "Jaune was raised by an evil, evil man," he concluded. "I don't know who this General is, but he needs to be stopped."

Weiss had looked like she'd wanted to be sick, but still clung to him as if he would fade away. Ruby was shocked to her core by the calculated savagery of it, while Yang didn't know what to think.

Blake stood up and made to leave.

"...Blake?" Ruby asked. "Where are you going?"

"I can't believe it," she said. "How are you all still standing with him?"

"Blake?"

"He's a murderer!" she shouted. "A monster! He admits it! He deserves to be punished for his crimes against the Faunus, and you're all prepared to just let him walk free?"

"...How can you call this walking free?" Ruby asked, her voice soft and small. "He tried to kill himself."

Blake's eyes narrowed into amber slits. "Maybe we should have let him."

With that, she stole from the room, as silent as shadow.

[/]

Chapter Endnotes: "Holy shit!" Holy shit is correct. Where do I begin with this one…

Everyone is the hero in their own mind. The best villains believe that they are justified in their actions. Explaining this in terms of Mass Effect, as all right-thinking people should, while Jaune is becoming Paragon, Ironwood is ultra Renegade, with Salem representing the Reapers.

"We are men of action. Lies do not become us." comes, of course, from The Princess Bride. While toxic masculinity is a thing, the important part of that phrase is the first word, not the second. I do think that there is a space for men to build a positive masculinity, and such sentiments as that are, in my opinion, an excellent place for men to begin.

In general, if something in the story doesn't quite match up with canon RWBY, just roll with it. Does the Aura Transfer Machine work like that in canon? Probably not, but it makes for an awesome plot device. (Damn it, Yang!)

So now you know why I made Jaune so strong, and no, it isn't to have him stomp on Cardin Winchester. Well, not entirely anyway. Jaune's that strong because the enemies that he'll be fighting later on require him to be that strong.

I can practically see the reviews now. "Ironwood wouldn't do that…" Wouldn't he? If you take the General Ironwood of the end of Volume 7, give him almost twenty years to plot, and plan, and scheme, and stew over the situation, you don't think he'd start taking some seriously messed-up steps in his struggle?

I think part of the problem is that some readers were seeing Ironwood in the context of an American general, one restrained by the American Uniform Code of Military Justice and the long American legal tradition of civilian control over the military. Nope. Ironwood is more akin to a Latin American Generalissimo. And really, how much different is that from canon? Two seats on the ruling council is bullshit, and while Jacques was a traitor and Robyn Hill was an idiot, that doesn't change the fact that, in Volume 7, there was an election, and at the end of the season, both candidates had been imprisoned.

Was the torture too outlandish? Well, no. Barring the Aura Transfer Machine stuff, everything that Ironwood does in this chapter - disappearing people, electroshock torture, the use of rape as a weapon of war, mutilation, all of it - is based off of Chile's Augusto Pinochet. He maimed the musicians, decimated an entire generation of young Chilean students, and sent over two-hundred thousand of his people fleeing his regime in terror. The difference is that, while Ironwood really is facing the literal personification of absolute evil, Pinochet was motivated by *checks notes* President Salvador Allende moving to...nationalize Chile's copper industry. Not sure how one makes the ethical leap from disagreeing over economic policy regarding metal futures to tossing poets out of helicopters, but there we go.

Yeah. Dark.

Okay, miscellaneous wrap-up. Was hoping I wouldn't have to break out the soapbox for this story, but here we are!

-IcePyre, I'm afraid your criticism isn't based on an accurate reading of the text. Not only is there a scene in Chapter 3 where Yang purrs at a boy, saying "Mama like," but she checks out Jaune before checking out Blake. Between that and the other instances, I'm pretty sure there's more evidence of Yang's bisexuality in this fic so far than in actual canon, especially since only one couple is officially together this early in the story. Please read carefully before throwing around accusations of bisexual erasure. Unless you're objecting to my use of the phrase "useless lesbian antics," in which case, all that I can say is that I refuse to choke the life out of my prose for the sake of arbitrary hyper-specificity. "Useless currently-femme attracted bisexual antics" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

-Random anon who made a mean little parting shot about transgender people: if you really did read and enjoy "Falling Snow" and can't see how what you said was messed-up, then I despair at having ever reached my readership at all. Color me shocked that the bigot didn't like the chapter where Cardin got his ass kicked.

-WearyCurmudgeon: I actually literally forgot about "Across Worlds," until you mentioned it. In my defense, I kinda went a little mental for a while on new medication. I think I will get back to updating that, thank you for reminding me.

As always, thank you all for reading!

Love,

Mahina