He stared down at his pip boy. It was cumbersome and practically useless, just a few pounds of obsolete equipment and some traces of radiation. He didn't even use it anymore for the radio. His scroll gave him everything he needed now.
Well, everything except sentimentality. That was something that Remnant could never give him.
He sighed and pulled out his scroll, then switched over to VNN, the Vale News Network, idly browsing article headlines. He huddled up closer to himself on the bench, far away from the rest of the students. They all gathered in a crowd in the courtyard just outside of Beacon, where the school's bullheads would come and pick them up, then transport them to Forever Fall.
They'd been briefed on their mission, though no one knew what Professor Peach would be doing with all that sap. After all, why would the counselor and psychology teacher need anything like that?
Eh, everyone was content to shrug and let Peach do as she pleased.
Word from the upper year students was that this was just a glorified vacation, a chance to let the first-years unwind just a few weeks before finals. The forest was supposed to be beautiful, and the mission was supposed to be a breeze. It was even less densely populated by Grimm than the Emerald Forest was, though they might get a fight with some minor Grimm.
Heh, Yang had complained about that last part, never being a pacifist, but Jaune was happy for the chance to relax. In fact, when the trip was being described to them, he could barely contain his excitement by the end. Ruby had been quick to point out the smile on his face.
It was nature. More than that, it was a particular kind of gorgeous, idiosyncratic nature that had only existed in his wildest dreams back on Earth. He'd definitely be enjoying the view, and he planned one staking out the terrain. He was no stranger to camping in dangerous areas over a long period of time, so he could even spend the few weeks break after finals in the forest, enjoying the scenery, living off the land. It'd be like things back in the wasteland, just infinitely more beautiful and enjoyable.
He smiled again as Lisa Lavender began her daily newscast. Now that was a good thought, wasn't it? The only problem would be that he may be disconnected from the CCT if he strayed out too far. That meant his news would be cut off at times, a favorite past time of his.
This world, still alien to him in so many ways, was utterly fascinating. It was just so... alive. There was so much happening, all the time, things happening. Even if the news was about something bad, it paled in comparison to the sort of things he heard about in the wasteland. It was strangely cathartic to hear what passed for a 'tragedy' over here. Like, the murder of a single family was bad and all, but it wasn't really a tragedy. What had happened to Megaton, now that was a tragedy.
Oh well, everything's relative.
Lavender's broadcast began, and he refocused as things got started. As always, she was no-nonsense and straight to the point. Quality stuff.
"Lisa Lavender reporting. The situation surrounding the escaped Atlesian criminal, Burgundy "the Butcher" Shade is still shrouded in frustration and mystery. For those unaware, Shade is a former Atlas specialist, who was caught directing an extra-governmental military campaign years ago.
"He and personal military confidantes directed strikes against faunus communities, in hopes of quelling white fang violence as well as opposition to new dust mines. However, their methods were extra judicial and brutal to an incredible degree, so much so that their actions were declared genocidal by the Vytal court.
"Shade was given three consecutive life times for his heinous crimes, and Atlesian politics were shaken to the core. A purge of military and political personnel followed, spearheaded by General Ironwood.
"Well, old wounds have been reopened. Shade was being transported across Vale, to a secure holding facility in southern Anima, while his original facility was undergoing construction. A daring attack on the transport saw the guards slaughtered and Shade released.
"Faunus rights activists are quick to blame the act on human supremacist movements, who've long sympathized with Shade and his goals. Shade's actions and comments endeared him to the violent human supremacists, and many are concerned that he will get back to work attacking the faunus and further stoking race tensions.
"Vale security forces are reported to be working with the Atlas special forces to hunt Shade down, but there is, as of yet, no leads. Should anyone see him, immediately call the authorities and do not engage. He is highly skilled and dangerous."
The screen switched over to the image of Burgundy Shade in his military garb. A middle-aged man, with muscles like iron and auburn hair streaked with white from age and stress. He was wry, with two sais, one in either hand. Knowing Remnant, they were probably each mini-missile launchers or something. His eyes seared hatefully, with the passion and fire of seething embers. Jaune had seen those kinds of eyes before, and it made his skin crawl. Those were eyes fueled with hate.
The screen switched back to Lavender, who continued with domestic news.
"A recent speech by Fantoche for the New Dawn found a larger audience than any prior showing." The screen changed from Lavender to a recording of a large auditorium, packed with hundreds of people.
A handsome man who couldn't have been out of his thirties stood at the podium. His skin was a dark olive, with piercing purple eyes and purple hair, along with an outfit of royal purple that was the same shade. Had Jaune been new to Remnant, he may have found the choice of clothing strange or flamboyant, but it was par for the course at this point. Whatever the color, they fit the man well, and he cut an impressive, attractive figure. When he started speaking, his voice was soft and charismatic, perfectly suited to him.
Jaune figured that he looked more like an actor than anything else.
"Whenever we try to speak our mind, we are shouted down," he began. "We are shouted down by those who wish to preserve their own power, to fuel their own corrupt machinations so that they may hoard even greater wealth and influence. We are shouted down by those who wish to take away all that we have worked for. The elites of the council steal from us, steal from you! Meanwhile, the white fang crawl across our fair city, thieving and attacking and working with faunus communities to destroy our very way of life!
"Open your eyes, so that you may see the enemies who are all around! The enemies beyond the city, such as the Atlesian moguls who exploit us with their dust monopoly, the Vacuan gangsters who bring in crime and rowdiness, the Mistral nobility who exploit us for their own finery. The enemies within, the wealthy who work to keep you poor and stupid while colluding with powers all across Remnant to keep all of humanity poor and stupid, as well as the degenerates among the faunus who try to tear everything down from the bottom up. Never trust the faunus that you see, for there is no telling where their allegiances lie. Mostly, they do not lie with the city.
"I say that it is high time we cast this aside. Don't you agree?"
The video ended with the room exploding into loud cheers.
"The New Dawn have managed to fully convert themselves from a small veteran's organization, into a legitimate political party," Lisa Lavender continued. "Polls predict that the New Dawn have passed the required 5% electoral threshold to attain political office. Experts believe that, following the elections next year, we will see Fantoche on Vale's council.
"But beyond that, the New Dawn have finished the formation of the first few paramilitary 'protection squadrons' who they say will provide security for party events, though Fantoche has stated that their role may not end there—"
Jaune turned off his scroll and pulled out his earbuds the moment he felt the wind pick up. He'd heard the bullhead approach through the newscast, but only now that it was close enough for him to feel the effects of its engines, did he make towards it.
"Heya Jaune!" Ruby called.
"Heya Jaune!" Yang mimicked.
He smiled and waved to both of them, but was content to let them branch off with the rest of their team; the four girls quickly feel into their own conversation. He would've liked to join, but only Yang Ruby tolerated him, with Weiss outright hating him.
Blake apparently possessed some sort of animosity for him. Then again, that probably wasn't anything personal on her part, since she'd always given the impression of being innately antisocial. Or... maybe he'd done something to put her off? Maybe her furtive looks were personal?
Nah.
There wasn't any evidence of that, and he was probably just being paranoid. That didn't mean he liked or trusted her, of course, just that he was willing to keep Ruby's teammate off of his list of people to hate and be on guard for. Besides, he actually liked Blake, since she'd never tried to speak to or interact with him in any way. Their mutual exclusion was fulfilling. He didn't hate her.
Speaking of hatred...
His team. The other three members of JNPR. Had they been a functioning lot, then he would've boarded the bullhead alongside them, then they would've descended into friendly chatter, just as RWBY had done, just as every other team around them did.
As it was, he quickly shuffled past them and to the back of the bullhead, earning a glare from Pyrrha, who'd always held the most enmity towards him. He understood that, considering how he was supposed to be her partner, her closest friend. The same for the other two. He was supposed to be someone they looked up to, someone they could trust unconditionally, their leader. He was supposed to be a leader.
He'd been there. He'd done that. He wouldn't do it again.
But don't you want to?
Shut up.
He shook his head and backed himself into the corner of the bullhead, as far away from everyone else as possible. He could hardly stand being around those people, those three who were supposed to be his team. His team.
Wouldn't it be nice to have a new team?
Shut up.
You liked it so much before.
Shut up.
You like being with other people.
Shut up.
He shook his head again; this time, he pressed his knuckles into his temples, as if he could somehow physically drive the thoughts from his brain.
People. He hated people. He didn't want to be around them, since they brought nothing but trouble. He wanted to be on the road, living a life of danger where fraternization was always optional. He wanted to get back to the life of never speaking and never showing his face. He wanted to once again be cut out from the world, to be away.
That's what he wanted.
Well, that's what he told himself that he wanted. That meant it had to be true. It's what he told himself now, and it's what he'd told himself when he started Beacon, and it's what he'd told himself back on earth. He'd been telling it to himself, ever since he'd told it to Lyons, in a moment that seemed to have passed an eternity ago.
From now on, you can call me the Lone Wanderer.
The Lone Wanderer scoffed. He didn't want any friends.
Jaune Arc's eyes furtively stole a look back at his team.
The three of them sat together—Nora and Pyrrha chatted idly, while Ren listened contentedly. He'd watched them a bit, and he'd found that this was the usual setup. If he was there then perhaps he'd be giving Ren some male company, or perhaps he'd be contributing to the conversation and add a third voice to whatever Pyrrha and Nora were talking about.
Perhaps.
Maybe.
His life was filled with the words 'perhaps' and 'maybe'.
He let his face fall into his hands as the bullhead shuddered and took off. He focused on the strange rumbling sensation, which was so very much like a vertibird's. Soon enough, however, the vehicle leveled off, and they were gone, with just a hum and a light, ever-present vibration warning him of that the fact that he was suspended in a metal cage high in the sky.
What was the matter with him?
Ever since he'd come to Beacon... things had gotten strange. He'd never felt it before, but he felt it now. He felt it every day at this point, every time he woke up, every time he saw his team, every time he thought about leaving.
He felt a sensation where his heart was supposed to be.
It wasn't an altogether unfamiliar feeling, though it was one that he'd assumed dead. It had appeared following the battle at Adams Air Force Base, when not a minute could pass without the terrible, ugly, heavy presence in his chest making itself uncomfortably known. It had gotten even worse, when he tried to go back to Vault 101, only to make a terrible mess of things.
Then it had faded. He'd left the capital wasteland and made for the Pitt, and while surviving the network of harsh tunnels just to get there, the sensation had died down. It had been snuffed out completely as he fully applied himself to the lonesome toil of working in the Pitt and gathering steel and fight in the hole. His soul had been hardened by the brutality he'd seen there, and it had been solidified when he chose to side with warlord Asher, then depart with the promise of destruction should the slaves not be uplifted in due time. He'd been consumed by the incredible danger and pain of that lifestyle, that lifestyle he continued to live, which continued to distract him.
Then when he'd come back to the wasteland, he was a different person. Given solitude and time, he'd fully retreated within himself. It was in the Pitt, where the Lone Wanderer had been refined into what he was today, where the confused spirit of hatred and shame compacted and transformed. It was there, where he'd found his armor, where he'd decided to hide behind his filtration helmet and gamma shield and never let those of his old life know him anew. He was dead, then reborn.
Thus it was in Beacon, where that all seemed to unravel.
His chest felt heavy, that one spot where his heart was supposed to be once more flared up with dull pain. Sometimes, he felt a pit in his stomach. Sometimes, he felt a knot in his throat. He felt an urge to speak, to fraternize, the likes of which he hadn't felt in months. Or perhaps it was just that he'd done such an excellent job of shunning those natural human impulses, of distracting himself with danger and pain, that he simply hadn't noticed them. Whatever the case, what was it that had revived his dormant desire to socialize?
For a moment, his eyes slipped to Ruby. Just for a moment.
No, the people here were stupid. They were stupid and naïve and he had no place here, nor anywhere. His was the life of the road, the life of the wasteland. He'd long since realized that his place was out amidst the danger of the wild and untamed lands beyond whatever meager excuses for civilization could be found. It was his place out there, so that he could wreak havoc on the world and gain brutal revenge against it all, against the unfair universe that had taken everything from him. He belonged in the savage places, where he could let his own savagery shine as he dispensed cathartic justice and got revenge for the mistakes he could never take back.
Then, one day, he would die. He would collapse in a fight, or succumb to something less immediate, like hunger, thirst, blood-loss or radiation. He would fall and be forgotten, just as everyone is eventually forgotten. He would join the billions of people who'd perished all those centuries ago, claimed by the brutal fire which made the wasteland. The wasteland, a consuming void of evil and death which broke down the human spirit and annihilated a person's soul, should they give themselves to it. He'd long since given himself completely.
But he was not in the wasteland anymore. He did not have to be at war, not if he didn't want to be. But didn't he want to?
He glanced over to his team.
No, he was just projecting. The key word here is 'team'. It's the word that he cared about, the concept. Not the people. He didn't know Pyrrha Nikos or Lie Ren or Nora Valkyrie. He was simply projecting his feelings for his old team onto them. Nothing more.
Nothing more?
Nothing at all.
Aren't you desperate?
Desperate for what?
Haven't you been desperate this whole time?
For what?
For people.
People?
Yeah.
What about them?
Everything.
No, nothing.
Pyrrha and Ren and Nora. They're not your old team, but the thought of getting that kind of companionship again is so intoxicating, isn't it? The thought of regaining what was lost...
Shut up!
Haven't you ever wished that someone wouldn't be intimidated by your façade of the 'Lone Wanderer'? Haven't you ever wished that someone would press in and make friends with you and free you from the prison you cloistered yourself into?
Never!
Well, it's already happened. Maybe you should thank her.
He let his head fall further down, dug his knuckles deeper into his temples. This. This is what had been bothering him. Insidious thoughts that came from places unknown. They were his own thoughts... yet they also were not, in some strange sense. There was no denying, however, that these thoughts were emissaries of a part of himself that he'd thought long dead. These thoughts.
They scared him.
His foul mood evaporated the moment he saw Forever Fall.
He'd seen the pictures, of course. They'd all done a bit of research in their own time to learn a bit more about the area, but the photos proved diminutive. They were small and pitiful in comparison to what the forest looked like to the naked eye.
A gorgeous scarlet flourished everywhere, a rich and heady color that radiated strength and vitality, just like fresh blood; however, it managed to eschew the darker side of that simile, being nothing short of vibrant and strong and beautiful. Life.
Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Jaune thanked whatever higher power there was, if there even was one, for taking him from Earth to Remnant. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, he hoped that this wasn't a dream. He hoped with everything he had that his initial guess at being stuck in a dream really was untrue, that this was real and that he was alive and experiencing it, that he wouldn't have to wake up and return to the squalid existence he'd always been forced to live.
They were off. Miss Goodwitch had given them all their jars for sap, and Jaune wanted to do get about his work as quickly as he could, so that then he would have enough time afterwards to lounge around, relax and enjoy the scenery.
The teams all split off to get to their tasks, while he went on his own. He was keen to keep an eye on others, as always, and he was keen to notice when people were acting suspicious. He noticed team CRDL was unusually subversive in their movements, stiffly and quickly getting away into the forest. He disliked CRDL, reminding him of the many pathetic people who oppressed those weaker than them back in the wasteland, for no reason other than the power they felt. Not only that, but they had a history with Ren, who'd stopped them from bullying Velvet. They openly disliked his teammate, so he disliked them.
Ultimately, he simply shrugged and went on his way. Chances were, they'd do something stupid amongst themselves. He'd realized in his time here that people assigned undue suspicion to things. They were quick to tag all sorts of activities that really weren't that bad with their own mistrust. Like, plenty of people probably thought his sneaking off to buy cigarettes was egregious. The same went to other black-market behavior in Beacon, including smuggling alcohol and recreational drugs.
Anything short of theft, assault or murder didn't much phase the Wanderer.
So he went about his business, quickly tapping into tree after tree and gathering as much of the sap as possible. No Grimm bothered him, though the occasional gunshot and roar announced a few small spats here and there between other students and a monster or two. Nothing major. He simply enjoyed the scenery and set about the simple task assigned. He followed the actions of some of the other students and even drank some of it, quickly finding it to be delightfully sweet.
Oh yeah, he'd definitely be camping out here.
Time passed, he filled his jars and returned them to Miss Goodwitch, who nodded and allowed him to go about his business. He meandered through the trees, thoughts free and head clear as the beautiful imagery laid itself upon him. It was serene and pleasant. This was the sort of moment that made his life worthwhile.
Then he stumbled upon his team, and a frown quickly graced his face, while it was scowls around for them. Wait... for two. Nora looked at him quizzically. It made him uncomfortable, the way she tilted her head and scrutinized him. It put a strange feeling in his stomach, that she appeared not to be angry at him.
He turned away quickly, and the rest of JNPR did the same. He circled around them, but eventually came back, retracing his steps for a reason that he couldn't quite pin down. Well, after a second's thought, he managed to figure it out. He wanted to see them again. Why? Well, he wanted to see them... to see Nora look at him in that way which wasn't hateful, in a way that made the terrible, heavy feeling in his chest recede somewhat, made him feel lighter. Maybe the other two would look at him like that, too. In fact, he remembered Ren giving him that eye a few times, a few weeks ago. It proved that their hatred for him wasn't all-encompassing. Perhaps there was something else... something that afforded opportunity.
Opportunity for what?
Well, nothing, since he'd be doing nothing, since he'd be leaving shortly.
What was wrong with him? These thoughts and feelings about others, about his team, hadn't been there before. But maybe they had. Maybe it was something latent, something that had only recently been reawakened, slowly, over time, until it was now reaching a head. Something that influenced him with Ruby, then Yang, now them.
He scowled and loitered in the trees around them. He leaned back against one of the trees, bristling. He tried refocusing on the environment around him, take in the trees and the air, distract himself from the invading sensations.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
It was in that moment, a meditative and focused state that resulted from all his training with V.A.T.S., that he noticed something. He heard a rustling in the bushes, and his eyes snapped to observe. He saw Carding crouching in the brush. He saw something fly through the air, sparkling in the light as it sailed. Instantly, his heightened senses in that second saw what it was and where it would go, and instantly, he acted.
He caught the jar of sap in his hand, before it could fly further up in its arc and crash back down towards Lie Ren.
His teammate had stepped away from Nora and Pyrrha, such that he was on his own, and there was no other possible target that the jar could've been headed for. He landed back to the ground with a crunch of leaves underfoot, having jumped to snatch it out of the air.
A few heads turned his way, but no one paid any attention to just another student holding a jar of sap. The rest of JNPR turned his way, though Ren was quick to dismiss him. Nora looked out of the corner of her eye, seeming strangely mixed with her emotions, usually so bubbly. Pyrrha kept her attention on him too, but he turned away before he saw her forsake him, as she surely would.
Something boiled up within him. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Not at all. It was anger. It was anger and it was hate, the sort of intensity of emotion that instantly inspired a lust for violence, that made his teeth clench and his eyes narrow.
Team.
He'd had a team; he'd failed them.
He had a new team; he'd failed them too.
He'd failed them by turning his back on them, by abandoning them from the start. He was supposed to provide them leadership. He denied them anything other than scorn. He'd been despicable towards them, towards good people, people who should've been in his friends.
But now someone had tried to hurt them? Hurt his team?
Again?
AGAIN!?
His skin crawled. His hands shook. His vision blurred.
He marched into the woods. He tore through bushes and branches with angry abandon, and the jar in his hands cracked and shuddered ominously. He smashed through the forest and came upon an open field.
His initial suspicion had been correct, and anger towards himself flared up. Team CRDL. He should've followed them. He should've caught them in the act and found them and stopped them, before they ever made their move. At least he'd managed to stop them just in time. As it was, they huddled around a box, from which an ominous buzzing emanated.
Cardin looked back at him with a sneer, not a second away from unleashing a furious spout of words, before his eyes opened wide. The box he was holding fractured and exploded as the Wanderer whipped out the magnum and fired without a warning. He wasn't the type to give out warnings.
The wasps flooded out immediately and CRDL shouted and fled in different directions as the harsh insects swarmed them and flew around. They yelped and screamed and waved their arms frantically, but the swarm quickly dispersed into the forest, enjoying the fresh and open air outside of the crates. CRDL's aura flashed like twinkling stars as the wasps tried to sting them all over, but their small stingers weren't enough to pierce through. However, it was enough to make a distraction for the Wanderer to close in.
These bastards were going to drench Ren in sap and sick the wasps on him. That much was obvious. Why not return the favor? He rushed up to Cardin, who was too busy swatting at the few remaining wasps to notice his approach until it was too late. His eyes widened as the Wanderer smashed the jar of sap over his head.
Then he drew Crocea Mors, and things kicked off.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
Cardin stumbled back and collapsed to the floor after a flurry of blows from the screaming ripper. The other three members of CDL recovered from the initial surprise of the wasps, which had now dispersed or flew for Cardin, then drew their weapons.
The Lone Wanderer hadn't been pitted against an entire team before. He'd been set against a pair of partners once in Miss Goodwitch's class, when it became apparent that his skills were more advanced than most, but that was a fight barely won. He'd been left with hardly a sliver left above the red. Now, he was fighting an entire team.
However, there was a big difference between fighting in sparring class and fighting a true battle.
There were no rules here.
He drove Crocea Mors into the ground, where the teeth tore up copious amounts of dirt, which he then wrenched up and out of the ground in an upwards slash that flung all the earth into Dove's face, stalling his advance.
Then he fell upon Russel, driving him back with a few swift slashes that he swung in short arcs. He was driven back, giving the Wanderer much-needed space.
Sky came at him from the side, but he crashed forward into him with his shoulder, sending him off-balance before clashing against his guard. Then he spat in his face, a disgusting and unexpected act that let him shift and raise Sky's guard, enough that he could shove his knee into his groin.
That was how the fight continued: as Cardin fought off the wasps that went after him and his sap, the Wanderer took on his other three teammates, and he did that with all the savagery that the wasteland had ground into him. He spat and clawed and feigned back to shoot from the hip before ducking back in. He tore Crocea Mors through the ground, kicking up showers of dirt to blind his opponents. He was without honor or civility.
It was a brutal, nasty way of fighting, and he got the upper hand, crashing through the three weak fighters with his skilled ferocity. Then Cardin recovered, swatting away the rest of the wasps and roaring before getting back into the fray. His addition made things trickier.
It was a close fight, but one that was steadily, decidedly, turning against him. He thrashed all of them, and drove their auras down with the ferocious teeth of his ripper sword. However, they all got in their own strikes. He'd dodge and evade and swipe back in with quick, dexterous strength, delivering fast and hearty attacks. But they got in their fair of hits too, and he was barely able to keep his head above water and keep from being overwhelmed. He was on an active defense, unable to seize the initiative.
CRDL was average at best in terms of fighting ability, but four versus one was unfair to an extreme degree. He staggered and panted and bore several blows, even getting clipped by a gigantic swing of Cardin's mace, which nearly sent him sprawling and opened him up to a fresh wave of attack by the others.
It was a vicious affair, and he snarled angrily as he fought for supremacy, as he fought on behalf of the teammate he'd failed time and time again. It was with hatred born from shame and regret that he fought, and it empowered every swing.
He would turn things around, for he had to. He was skilled and experienced, more so than any of them. He'd fought countless life and death duels in the wasteland, and this was nothing compared to many of those.
He retreated several steps back, giving him enough distance and enough time to analyze the situation.
Breathe deep. Hold. Release.
He snarled and launched himself forward. He evaded the first few strikes, then ducked under Cardin's mace sprung up into the air, angling himself towards Russel. With the jump's momentum, he ferociously struck down at the boy's head, sending him careening to the ground.
One down.
The tables had turned once more, as he began to eke out an advantage, adjusting his fighting to compensate for being outnumbered. He found the opportunity to press close against Sky, whereupon he ground Crocea Mors against his skin and tore through his aura, even scratched into the boy's armor, before he screamed and retreated, as was common practice for many who had to face the terrifying, howling ripper sword and all the damage it could cause.
Then Dove thrust in and forced down his guard. Crocea Mors screeched angrily against his weapon, locked into position. He was like that for just a second, but a second was long enough for Cardin to smash his mace straight into his chest.
He flew back through the air and smashed straight into a tree. The bark splintered behind him, and he saw stars from where his head had cracked back into the trunk. He collapsed forward onto the ground, but forced himself to shakily rise up onto his feet. He ignored the burning pain that settled into his sternum and seeped into his entire ribcage. He could hardly breath, and his vision was blurry as he hauled Crocea Mors up in front of him, trying to ready himself against the attack that would inevitably follow.
No such attack came, for another combatant entered the fray.
With a mighty roar, an ursa major smashed through the tree line. The unsubtle beast had thus far been unnoticed, as the boys were too busy fighting amongst themselves. But now it was the center of attention, and it had its target.
It barreled towards Cardin, who was barely able to deflect some of its crushing blows, which would have been hard enough to contend with, had he not been reduced and exhausted from the vicious fight against the Lone Wanderer, who had been as ferocious, as quick, as strong and as cunning as a deathclaw.
Cardin's defense quickly collapsed before the Grimm's unrelenting strength. Two more ursa spilled out of the forest, consuming the attention of the rest of CRDL. More figures roared and rustled far out in the trees, sounding like they were coming this way.
I should leave.
That was the chief thought in his mind. He should leave and escape. CRDL could suffer injury or worse, which would be a fitting fate for them, after trying to attack Ren like that, trying to gain some sort of petty revenge after he humiliated them.
He could leave them behind, and they, with their frantic shouting and thrashing, could garner all the Grimm's attention. Eventually, maybe Miss Goodwitch would come and help them... or maybe a worse fate would be theirs.
He took one step and turned away.
An intrusive thought pierced his skull and stopped him from taking the next step. Ruby would've been horrified if she knew what he was planning. Sure, he detested CRDL, but they weren't deserving of such a brutal fate. Ruby would never forgive him if she knew, and if he ever had to tell her what happened here at the forest, he'd need to lie. He didn't want to lie to Ruby.
Memories attacked him, and he thought back to Maxwell Noble, a boy who had been very similar to Ruby indeed. What would he have done? Well, obviously, he would've turned right back around and struck down the Grimm, tried to save Cardin. He would have tried to save his enemy from death. He would've done the right thing. But Maxwell Noble was dead, wasn't he?
The Lone Wanderer took another step away.
Jaune Arc grit his teeth and turned around.
Gunfire and roars sounded in the forest beside them, denoting the presence of some other students who had intervened on their behalf against the rest of the ursa. That was good, since they'd already have their hands full.
The ursa major was huge. Spikes bristled all over its body, and its hateful eyes burned menacingly. It growled lividly, displaying its soul of pure rage.
Cardin sprawled out on the ground after trying to block a devastating strike by the ursa. He was helpless, and it was at that moment that Jaune intervened. He'd had no time to reload the magnum, so he dashed straight, slicing at the immense beast with all the power he could muster.
He tore open a large gash in its arm. The Grimm roared, but Crocea Mors screeched in defiance. He pulled back and yelled, drawing all of the ursa's attention onto him and him alone, leaving the depleted Cardin safe, for now.
He still needed to beat this thing. This thing, which packed enough muscle and strength to rip a super mutant in half without a problem. Then again, the same could be said for him, now that he had his aura. He matched the beast blow for blow, though it forced him several steps back. It was a savage fight, a fight that was less like a human hunter going after its prey, and more like two predatory animals attacking each other. Every time the ursa snarled and struck, he snarled and struck back with commensurate ferocity. He sneered and snarled and spat out pejoratives at the beast while he kept it at bay. Consumed totally by the fight, they'd each devolved into wild, vicious things.
He was strong enough to block and deflect its blows, while also being fast enough to get around its bulky strikes and cut in. The screaming ripper sprayed black blood all over them as he scored its flesh, but the thick hide and ferocious jaw kept him from getting the opening that he needed to deliver the ending blow. Not only that, but his bout with CRDL had weakened him enough that the ursa actually had a chance at overwhelming him. Fresh and ready, he was certain he could defeat the monster, but now...?
He grit his teeth and stabbed out with Crocea Mors, driving into the ursa's mask and grinding out one of its eyes. It roared in rage and agony. Perhaps he was outmatched, but he wasn't going down without a fight.
He heard something swoosh behind him, then Cardin's mace flew out from over his shoulder and smashed directly into the ursa's face with such incredible force that its head partly caved in, blood and shards of bone splattering everywhere as its mask completely shattered. The beast could hardly even manage a weak, pained roar through its shattered jaws. Its teeth fell broken and splintered to the ground, along with a viscous mixture of saliva and blood. It wobbled on its feet, dazed and confused by the brutal strike, giving chance for Jaune to tear its neck wide open with an upwards slash.
The massive beast collapsed to the ground, dead.
He took an entire minute just to breathe. Things had become eerily quiet. The two smaller ursa had been taken down by the rest of CRDL, who nursed their own wounds to the side. Fighting had died down in the forest, indicating that the other ursa had been killed as well, though those who had fought them weren't showing themselves. He didn't care. He just panted and listened, resting even as he expected another fight.
Another minute passed, then another. Finally, he was satisfied that no more Grimm would be coming. In the clearing, there was only him and CRDL. He saw Cardin, who still stood around where he'd formerly fallen, having shakily gotten to his feet.
Wait, how had he thrown his mace from way over there? He must've moved around, for whatever reason.
Question aside, Jaune stared at him. He stared at the person who'd attacked his teammate, who he'd attacked in turn, whose life he'd saved. He approached him, and Cardin eyed him warily, but stood his ground. He stopped mere feet away from the other student.
If Jaune were a better person, than perhaps this would be the moment where he shook hands with Cardin and the two of them left the past in the past, tacitly agreeing not to bother one another. Perhaps he would simply leave Cardin off with a warning to let his team be.
As it was, Jaune was Jaune, and he punched Cardin in the face.
He punched him in the face, then took the opportunity to kick him in the groin. Cardin whimpered and wilted, falling to his knees, whereupon Jaune rammed his knee into his chin. Cardin snapped back and fell onto the floor. Jaune kicked him in the side, then kicked him again and again. Cardin writhed and grunted, but he was now too weak to fight back, after the beating from Jaune and the ursa. His aura flashed weakly, hardly holding back the blows which were guaranteed to leave him covered in bruises. This was how it was done. This is how the world works.
Might makes right.
Solve your problems with violence.
Pain is the universal language.
He stopped kicking him, only to give him the ability to answer. "You're going to leave my team alone," Jaune said in a low, hateful voice, which he quickly channeled into a shout as anger overcame him. "You hear that!? Do you hear that!? You'll leave my team alone!"
"Y-yes..." Cardin weakly replied.
"When people ask why you're so hurt, you're gonna tell them that it was all because of the ursa, got it?"
Cardin nodded.
"Mess with my team again, and I'll break your fucking legs!"
Jaune gave him a final, sharp kick to ribs, then left. He passed by the rest of CRDL, who cowered before him and shuffled away, only approaching their beaten and beleaguered leader when he was well out of sight.
He made his way back to the bullhead, content to relax in the safety of Miss Goodwitch's gaze and enjoy the view of forever fall. The aforementioned professor arched a single brow when she saw him, battered and covered in some Grimm blood that was still slowly disintegrating. He loved hos convenient that was, not needing to wash his outfit clean of any gore. Although, he had a bit crimson on his coat from when he'd punched Cardin. Humans would always bleed like that.
Miss Goodwitch asked if he was alright, but didn't enquire any further. He took a seat at the base of a nearby tree and sighed. For some reason, he felt... lighter. He felt accomplished, fulfilled. This feeling combined with the beautiful view quickly settled him into a calm.
Other people might still be a little shaken so shortly after that ordeal, a vicious fight with both monsters and humans. The latter was what would stick with many. Such a brutal display against your fellow man could stick around people in the form of regret or guilt. That wasn't the case here. He was far too used to that at this point.
Some things never change.
Pyrrha Nikos was distracted.
Nora and Ren had each noticed this, and both had commented, but neither had received answers. They chose to respect her wishes for privacy, even though she hadn't explicitly asked for it. She'd told them that nothing was wrong, and they all knew that that was a lie. They'd merely respected the non-direct request and let her be.
As it was, she sat alone in the Beacon armory, polishing her sword. Across the room, sat Jaune and Ruby. She'd be lying if she said that she wasn't envious of the girl. Where Pyrrha had been rebuffed, Ruby had been accepted.
She'd wondered for a while, what was wrong with her. There had to be something wrong with her, something that was immediately perceivable and absolutely awful, something that made him hate her from the start. Only after she'd confided these thoughts to Nora and Ren, had she managed to get over them... sort of.
She still sometimes looked at Ruby and scowled. Was it because she hadn't been nice enough? Not cute enough? Was it just because he liked the color silver more than green when he looked them in the eye?
Whenever she caught herself hating Ruby Rose, she immediately regretted it. The girl was incredibly sweet and kind, from little she'd seen of her. She didn't deserve any of her ire. Pyrrha wasn't a hateful person, but she definitely hated Jaune Arc. She hated him because he hated her, because he didn't care for the team.
Or so she'd thought.
Now she wasn't sure what to think. She'd seen the jar of sap hurtling through the air out of the corner of her eye, and she was on the verge of shouting out a warning to Ren when it had been caught. Caught by the last person she'd expected.
She'd seen him catch it, and she'd seen him boil up into rage immediately after. She'd seen him take off after Cardin, and she'd followed. She saw him attack Cardin right away, and she'd stayed out of the encounter. She'd been tempted. Oh, how she'd been tempted to leap in and fight alongside her partner for what would have been the first time, fight against a bully who'd dared try and hurt one of her best friends. But she'd restrained herself. There was no telling how Jaune would've reacted to her entrance. Not only that, but she had been paralyzed by the fight, the way someone is paralyzed while watching a car crash. A grim fascination overcame her, as she watched him fight with a kind of skilled ferocity that was as startling as it was amazing and terrifying.
When the Grimm came, she'd been taken out of her stupor and got to work. She struck down those that remained in the forest, then she'd seen him save Cardin. She'd watched his fight with the ursa, which again displayed an incredible, scary violence like she'd never known. All her life, all her fights had been civilized and sporty, the exact opposite of what she'd seen from him. His fighting style in sparring class already seemed abrupt and harsh, but this brought it to another level of unmitigated violence. She didn't want to think about how he'd come to develop that kind of fighting.
When it seemed that the ursa major was gaining again him, she used her semblance to smash Cardin's discarded mace into it, affording him the chance to kill it. Then she'd stayed in the woods, amazed and a little afraid and a little disgusted by the brutality with which he dealt with Cardin, though she'd be lying if she said that it didn't feel at least a little good to watch the bully finally get crushed.
And how crushed he'd been. Crushed, and forced to swear off ever acting against her team again.
Jaune had gone out of his way to help Ren, and then he'd gone well beyond that. He'd fought on his behalf. He'd even showed a heroic side of himself that she wasn't aware of, saving Cardin. He'd protected them.
She watched him as he worked with Ruby, bent over some strange-looking technology that seemed like some sort of odd rifle, only half-built. They were both engrossed in the work. At times, one or the other would mention something and they'd converse, but they always kept focused. She'd seen them working in here like this, and she'd seen them have lunch together and laugh together and talk together.
Seeing him with Ruby, she'd long-since dispelled the theory that he was some sort of sociopath. However, she'd long given up on him ever directing any compassion like that towards them. It seemed like she may have to dispel that as well.
She was just... confused. Did he care for them? Obviously, he did, otherwise he wouldn't have taken such actions. She just... she just didn't know what to think. And why? Why would he care for them in the slightest, since he didn't even know, since he'd rebuffed them for so long.
Pyrrha hurriedly packed up her weapons and left the armory behind, pointedly avoiding looking in the direction of her partner and his closest friend. She should tell them, Nora and Ren. But... would they accept it? He'd fought on their behalf, but having not seen an act of kindness with their own eyes, would they even believe he was capable of it? They certainly hadn't seen this side of him, or at least she didn't think they had. She doubted it.
She'd just think it over for now.
I'm gonna clarify that the voice Jaune is always sparring with, the voice that sounds like his own but sorta isn't, isn't someone invading his mind or an alternate personality or whatever, so much as a dramatized representation of his feelings. I think that everyone does stuff like that, just not in neat sentences, which is how I have to format it.
Now I hope this explain more of why Jaune gives a damn for JNPR. It's a mix of both the past and the future. His memories of his old team kick in, such that he projects upon them, especially when thinking in terms of the abstract, like just 'team'. He needs to protects his 'team' and not repeat the mistakes of the past. He's also enticed by the potential for the future that they give him, possibly being able to make him happy again, though he'll never admit that to himself, at least not now. Just like canon, he's protective and loyal to a fault.
Anyhow, next chapter will be slow, probably short, but it's necessary to transition to Blake's disappearance arc, which will begin in chapter 17. Things have taken quite a while to get here, longer than expected, but with the relationships established, I think that we can get moving more with the plot. This was always supposed to be a character and drama driven fic, more than anything, so I've taken the time to flesh out everything in detail.