So someone asked about Jaune's power armor. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten that ;)

Also, a THOUSAND favs! Thanks so much for all the support everybody!

And this chapter will be the beginning of a pretty big oof for Jaune, as if he hasn't had enough already.

"These men are necessary for the security of our events," the man said. "Not only that, but these men are by and large veterans and even some hunters, people who have put their lives on the line for Vale. And they continue to do that now, volunteering to protect a political movement they believe can save the heart of our country."

Amber eyes looked at the little screen of a scroll, and red lips smiled.

Cinder Fall sat on her bed, Emerald dutifully sitting on her own nearby, as she watched the interview on VNN, two people occupying different seats across from one another in a small room. On the right was the renown face of Lisa Lavender, one of VNN's well-known anchors.

Lavender crossed her legs, cleared her throat and addressed the man opposite her: "Well Mr. Fantoche, some people are claiming that any buildup of what amounts to a military force in a political context is… well, not ideal for a political forum. How would you contest that?"

The man across from her only smiled, and he smiled well. He was uncharacteristic of the usual 'politician' caricature: older, wealthier, sometimes bloated. No, he was slim and young, with years barely numbering in the thirties. Yet this was a man with a face increasingly well known, leading a movement whose name was becoming household common.

"Well Lisa, the simple fact of the matter is that this isn't a military organization, or anything nefarious. This is us providing personal security, as well as a sense of meaning and purpose to our members. Yes, we've started up some self-defense training programs, some classes, some seminars." He clasped his hands together, in a manner similar to pious man's pledge. "But this is just to keep ourselves safe. You want to talk about organized militaries? Talk about Atlas trampling on our sovereignty, or the White Fang invading us, or the criminals in our own city running rampant." He formed his hands up now into a fist, a bold promise: "And these are precisely the kind of enemies to our city and our democracy that the New Dawn plans on defeating. And for the moment, if the current Vale armed forces and police force are unable to do it, then we'll keep ourselves safe from these threats."

"And how many 'green-shirts' are there, as you call them?"

He shrugged passively. "I'm not certain of the exact number, but I think we're closing in on a hundred, and we've got our self-defense classes helping more people." He leaned over, closer and more assertive to the woman, but without losing his posture, his sense of dignity and composure. "And understand, these people are patriots. Any of the slander from a few politicians saying we're trying to intimidate people is pure lies. We're patriots. That's why we've decided the volunteers should wear green, echoing the citizen guard in the great war and the faunus war—"

Cinder pressed a button on her scroll, letting the screen go black; she'd seen enough.

"So it's going to plan?" Emerald asked, a glint of satisfaction in her eye.

"Oh yes," Cinder replied, "all on track."

Jaune Arc was stuck in the dark place.

"You know they're just sad for you," said Bishop Beauvais, speaking in that soft, charming and refined southern accent of his, the accent of those Enclave monsters.

They stood just a few feet apart from one another, and although Jaune was within striking distance, he could not move. He could not even move his lips or flex his lungs to scream, to yell, to shout as he wanted to, wanted so badly. Instead, he stared with all the hatred he could muster.

"They pity you, because they recognize how pathetic you are," Bishop continued, smiling wide as he always did. "They see something so broken, so sad, so utterly incapable… and they need to try and take care of it. They're good people, just doing their best… and eventually, they'll die for that." Bishop stepped closer, until their faces were mere inches apart, and Jaune felt that bastard's cool, sterile breath on his face, saw the flat and murderous look in his blue eyes. "They'll die, because they love you, and because you love them, too. They'll do their best for you, and you'll do your best for them. And they'll stupidly think they can rely on you to keep them safe… not knowing that your best has never been good enough." Bishop chuckled airily and his smile widened. "So—"

A fist crashed into his face.

Bishop Beauvais was hurled back by the force of a vicious punch, one which cracked the teeth in his despicable smile and shut him up. He landed hard on the floor, a tough thump reverberating through the whole dark space.

Jaune looked down at one hand, formed into a fist, which was now covered in some blood and spittle. His eyes were wide, unbelieving. All the times he'd tried to do that… he'd never succeeded before. Not here. Not against him.

Or had he ever really been trying?

"You…" Bishop still smiled, and now Jaune saw shattered teeth in that smarmy grin, with blood seeping out through his lips. His stupid voice held an edge of pain to it. "You…"

"Shut up," Jaune commanded. He narrowed his eyes, glaring down at his old enemy, lying defeated on the floor. Jaune shook his head. "I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore."

Bishop's smile wavered for a moment, but then it widened again, lips peeling back grotesquely far, inhumanly far, revealing fully his shattered and bloody teeth. He chuckled.

"You should be," Bishop rasped.

It was then that Jaune opened his eyes, spurred awake.

He looked to the side and saw his partner was poking him in the face. Pyrrha smiled. "Sweet dreams?" she asked.

"Sorta," Jaune replied. He lightly swatted her hand away and yawned. The memory of what he'd just done in the dream was already fading from him, but he knew that it had something to do with Bishop, and he knew, in a satisfied and primal way, that he had won.

That made him grin.

"We're close to Mountain Glenn now," Pyrrha told him.

"That why you woke me up?" He poked her in the face, earning a yelp from his partner. "Rude. Shoulda let me sleep more."

Now it was Pyrrha who batted his hand away, but she giggled as she did so. "Please, you're the team leader, so you have to be awake for deliberations."

"Yeah!" Nora agreed, voice raised loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the bullhead's engine—and then some.

"Use your inside voice, brat," Qrow said. He grumbled and rubbed his head, giving Jaune the sneaking suspicion that the man may have had a bit more to drink the night before, or perhaps not enough? It was hard to tell with Qrow.

"I'm hungry," Nora replied, speaking just as loud as before. "Are we there yet?"

"No, god damn it," Qrow grumbled. "But we're not too far away now, so hang on and let's get over this."

So Qrow broke down the situation: he told them about the areas they'd scope out, gave them paper maps along with the ones they'd downloaded on their scrolls, told them to watch out not only for Grimm and the White fang, but smugglers and salvagers as well, reminded them they'd be quickly jumping out of the bullhead and finally wished them all good luck.

"Luck and I don't have the best relationship," he said. "But let's hope the old lady gives us a break this time, huh?"

"You just jinxed us, asshole," Jaune said.

Qrow opened his mouth to retort, but the pilot called back, "Alright, we're almost there."

Any air of mockery or funny-business dissipated, as the team accepted the gravity of their situation. They all felt the bullhead rattle and dip as it lowered its altitude, and when Jaune looked out the window, he saw the ruined city in the distance, and he saw it grow. He knew that he was approaching that colossal wreck of a place, but a foreboding sense came upon him that made it feel more as if the city were approaching him, as if Mountain Glenn was growing and advancing. As he looked at it, images of other places, of the Pitt and of DC, hovered in the back of his mind, all their drab shapes and slumped colors seeming to mix together in his perception and memory.

Before he knew it, the city was upon them, the door had opened and they had jumped out.

It all came back to him. It was almost nostalgic. The dead buildings were stripped of color, looking now like drab skeleton, or the forsaken husks of molting insects. They'd been dumped out in the middle of an intersection by the side of the city, near its great wall. So all around him was the ruin of civilization. The survival and tactical instincts he'd developed on earth came back to him immediately; it was like riding a bike.

The bullhead's engine exhaust buffeted him as it blasted off, sending his hair into a frenzy and forcing him to squint. Nevertheless, he wasted no time dashing to the side of the street they'd landed in, drawing his pistol as he did so. There was an abandoned shop with its windows blown out, and he hopped through the opening. Glass crunched beneath his boots and ancient dust fumed up with each step. He held the Mysterious Magnum up before him, finger ready to pull the trigger and gun down anything that moved without begging his mercy.

"Alright," Pyrrha said behind him as she and the others followed him into the shop. "Are you sure we shouldn't break up? If we broke into two groups, we could—"

"No. We already went over this." When Jaune said that, his tone of voice enforced that he didn't plan on accepting an argument contrary. "Too dangerous. So easy to be spotted, outnumbered, ambushed. No way are we breaking up."

"Then—"

"I'm not done," he said, cutting off Nora. His speech was clipped and hushed, and he didn't even look or seem to pay too much attention to the others as he spoke. Every word he said held a tinge of authority—or was it paranoia—and his voice was strained, like a taught garrote. His shoulders were hunched, and his posture was tense.

"Don't rely on your eyes too much," he said. "So easy for things to find cover and hide. Listen. Always listen. When you think you see something, get to cover. Always stay close to cover. Never go out in the open. Keep your aura ready. Try not to make much noise. Don't shoot unless you have to." He pulled out the paper map Qrow had given him, then looked out through the window, up to the sun. "East is that way," he pointed. "So lets break through these buildings and head—"

They heard gunshots in the distance.

Instantly, Jaune hopped back and pressed himself against the cement wall, and the others raised their weapons and flocked to him, with only Qrow drawing his sword and taking up a different position, crouched behind a counter.

"Jaune—"

"Shush," he said, cutting off Nora. "Only talk when you have to." He craned his neck and faced his ear out toward the sky, struggling to hear anything else after what he'd heard before.

"In the distance," Qrow said, "not aimed for us."

Jaune nodded but continued listening. He heard nothing other than some nevermore squawking, the wind and the distant howling of some Grimm, perhaps a few beowolves.

"We came here looking for trouble," he eventually said. "Let's find some. Follow me." He then darted back from his post by the wall and vaulted back out through the window, then sprinted down the side of the building, ducking into an alleyway. The others followed.

From there, he navigated through narrow alleys and briefly across open streets, running as hard as he could to limit his time in the open. Whenever he needed to dash across a street, he first listened and looked. Where he could, he even cracked through side doors and into buildings. He did all of this while still keeping a mental map of his direction, being well practiced in how to keep a sense of which way he had gone and which way was what, despite being in unfamiliar territory, despite having his vision obscured by taller buildings. He knew the work of ruins. His team followed behind him dutifully, Qrowing at the rear, looking back over his shoulder frequently.

At one point, he came upon a few canis, the first Grimm they found in Mountain Glenn. They were doglike and lanky creatures, three in total, wandering down the alley he'd chosen.

He stopped and said, "Pyrrha and Ren."

Pyrrha nodded and stepped forward, as did Ren. He'd explained this tactic to them the night before, when they'd stayed huddled in their room, examining the map of Mountain Glenn, planning their route, listening to Jaune's experience.

One of the canis looked up, and it saw them. When the beast growled, the others were alerted as well. Jaune stepped aside as Pyrrha and Ren took point position, brandishing their quick, bladed weapons. All the best to make the least noise.

The canis growled, charged and leapt. Pyrrha and Ren deftly flashed their weapons. The Grimm hit the ground, slashed apart and already dissolving into smoke.

"Good job," Jaune said, sparing some speech for a hint of praise. He crept forward, breathing steady, ear turned up and listening. His eyes were focused perfectly on what was ahead of him.

Nora looked at her team leader, then to Ren, who could only shrug. None of them had ever seen him like this, so engrossed and focused. It was surprising—a little concerning, as well.

But they made good time, and no more Grimm got in their way as they advanced in the direction of the gunshots.

Jaune had expected to find some dissolving Grimm, shot down by whatever White Fang guard or enterprising scavenger had shot them down. But that isn't what he saw when he peeked around a corner, out into a main avenue of the city.

"Gods…" Pyrrha said, looking over his shoulder.

Two bodies lay on the ground, further down the street, sprawled on the sidewalk. They were covered in blood, as was the ground on which they lay, along with a spray of broken glass and bits of brick, presumably from the busted open windowpane on the shop beside them.

Jaune pushed Pyrrha back behind him, then brought out his scroll. "Keep lookout in the other direction," he told the others. "I'm going to focus in on this." He turned on the camera and zoomed in while crouched behind the street corner, examining the corpses. As he did so, he brought his aura on guard, and also ignored the hushed whispers of Pyrrha informing the others of what she'd seen.

He observed for several minutes, before pulling back behind the corner and into the alley once more. He didn't stop to explain his findings until they were further back into the alley, all crouched by a dumpster. Even then, he told Ren to keep lookout as they spoke.

"Their blood was still pooled up around them. Liquid. Fresh. Whatever killed them is probably close.

"Two bodies," he whispered to them. "They wore the uniforms and masks of the White Fang."

"Suspicions confirmed," Qrow said.

"Yes," Jaune replied. "But I don't like how they died."

"Grimm?"

"I don't like it," he repeated. "All seems fishy. There was glass and bricks all around them and the busted window, so something big must have been hiding in there and attacked, ambush predator."

"Plenty of Grimm hunt like that," Qrow said.

"But this is more complicated," Jaune said. "Grimm are vicious and crazy from everything I've seen in Port's class. That sound right Qrow?"

"Yeah, they're a wild bunch."

"Well, this was pretty clean."

"Didn't look clean…" Pyrrha said. She bit her lip, distraught and thinking back to what were probably the first dead bodies she'd ever seen.

"Well it was," Jaune continued. "At least compared to a lot of other shit I've seen. Whatever killed them went right for the kill. Their chests were cut through, gouged right in the hearts. Each seemed to have been stabbed by something big, like a large spear—or a claw."

Jaune's eyes narrowed.

"I remember seeing attacks like that back in the wasteland. It came from… a specific kind of Grimm."

"What kind?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "Tricky beowolves," he lied. It was the closest to the truth he was comfortably getting. "Fast executions, straight for the central mass, plunge claws right through. If they're feeling hungry, they'll start eating. If they're just in a bad mood, then they'll tear a few limbs off."

Nora swallowed. Her grip about Magnhild tightened.

"So whatever killed them did it fast and did it smart; it's good at killing. It hid, then knew exactly where to strike at the right time. I saw some gunshots up around the shop it had come out of… they were barely able to desperately pull the trigger before it got them down. Tore right into their hearts in a second."

"So there are Grimm around here that are good hunters," Pyrrha said.

"There's one other thing that throw this all off." Jaune shook his head. "I didn't see their guns."

"What?"

"They didn't have their guns on them," Jaune repeated. "I saw the bullet holes and heard the gunshots, so they must have fired. But those corpses don't have any guns on them. They were taken away."

The others adopted pensive looks, not knowing what to think of what he just told them.

"So either they hurled their guns into the distance as they were being mauled to death," Jaune said, "or their guns were taken off their bodies. Not only that, but I saw that their pants pockets were ripped open.

"Something looted their corpses after they were killed."

"So some scavengers who wanted to pick up after a Grimm?"

"Probably," Jaune said. "So keep in mind that we definitely have some sentient enemies here—"

Jaune was cut off by growling.

He looked above him, at the source of the noise.

A beowolf peered back down at him, sticking its head out of a window further up the building. A second beowolf peaked out of another window. A warning from Ren let him know that more canis had come around the bend of the alley.

"Well, looks like we weren't the only ones who decided to check out the gunshots," Qrow grumbled.

Jaune aimed his pistol and fired, blowing the head off of one beowolf. His friends leveled their funs as well, all firing. Nora blew apart a whole suite in a building above them with a well-aimed grenade through a window.

Breath deep. Hold. Release.

His chest rose and fell rhythmically as he pulled the trigger and tore apart an approaching pack of canis. There were, however, more than six, and the magnum quickly ran out. He holstered it and drew Crocea Mors.

Pulling back on the chainsword's trigger, it began its metallic scream, cruel little metal whirring excitedly, ready to maim and tear.

So the Lone Wanderer got to work, not noticing something even further above him. Near the very top of the building, two beady golden eyes stared down into the alley, taking in the sudden scene of growing carnage as the huntsman tore through the oncoming Grimm, mindless monsters that charged in even though the slaughter was wholly one-sided.

But this creature sat back and watched, observing the young man, with his blonde hair, scarred eye and chainsword. Quite distinctive.

"Hya!"

Ruby threw herself through the air and swept Crescent Rose's great blade before her, aiming straight for her partner's head.

Weiss quickly ducked and dashed to the side, letting Ruby miss and hurtle past her.

Then she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, a piercingly shrill sound that immediately made Ruby cringe, as well as Blake and Yang, sitting on the benches beside the training room arena.

"That's it," Weiss said. "Let's take a break and talk about that."

"About what?" Ruby asked. She scowled, disappointed at the spar ending early. She'd barely broken a sweat, but now it was being called off?

"Remember Miss Goodwitch's last lesson?" Weiss asked. "When she lectured about keeping control of your power and direction?"

"Well yeah, I always pay attention in Goodwitch's lectures," Ruby said, "unlike others, heh."

"Well," Weiss continued, "I think you should have payed closer attention, because you really ought to be more careful with big swings like that. They count too much on hitting, and if you miss—"

"Then I'm going too fast to be hit anyway," Ruby said with a shrug. "I'm not dumb. Yeah, I know that if I miss, then I'm open, but there's no way anybody has the reaction time or speed to hit me when I dash like that." Ruby swung Crescent Rose up onto one shoulder, proudly smiling and brandishing her 'baby'. "My semblance is too much for any Grimm, or person either. You'd have to be crazy fast to hit me when I really go in like that. And strong enough to get enough force in time. And really accurate so it doesn't just get deflected by my aura; if it's not at the perfect angle, then the worst that will happen to me is being thrown off course."

"Yeah," Yang said from the sidelines. "Same thing with my semblance. Rubes and I go too fast or too hard for people to cope with some attacks, other than to just get out of the way."

"And Miss Goodwitch has warned us against relying too much on our semblances," Weiss said. "And that's why she pointed out Jaune as an example." Weiss's nose crinkled as if the need to recognize anything positive about Jaune Arc felt to her like smelling something vile. "She actually somewhat likes the fact that he doesn't even know what his semblance is. He's trained in a way that doesn't make him dangerously reliant. Winter told me the same thing, and I've tried my best to have a style which synergizes with my semblance, rather than rely on it completely."

"Well what's even the point of that?" Yang and Ruby said at once.

"Yeah," Ruby continued. "We have semblances for a reason—to use them. Why not use them a lot?"

"Because then they can replace skill," Blake spoke up.

"Precisely," Weiss said, sticking her chin in the air, prouder now that her argument's been corroborated. "Reliance breeds recklessness. Just imagine you get in a situation where your semblance doesn't help? Or if there's someone out there who is fast, strong and accurate enough to hit you when you dash like that?"

"Well whatever," Ruby said. She sighed and collapsed Crescent Rose, then placed it on her hip. "I'm not stupid, okay?"

"I'm not calling you stupid," Weiss said. "I'm just trying to be as detailed as I can, especially after Goodwitch's last lesson."

"Hmm…" Yang hummed, mulling over the advice. "Dad did like to tell us not to rely on our semblances too much, to be careful."

"Eh," Ruby said. She only shrugged and moved off the arena, pulling out her scroll and sitting down on the nearest bench. "What do you think I should change up?"

"Just try not to fling yourself around as much," Weiss said. "You follow through to keep momentum, and that's fine, but just make sure that openings aren't too major."

"Yeah yeah," Ruby said, turning on her scroll. "I'll try to be more careful."

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, I am, it's just a little hard for me to think how I can change up my whole style…"

"Well, I'm not saying to change it completely," Weiss said. She finally sheathed her sword and stepped off the stage herself, sitting next to Ruby. "Just put a bit more thought into it, since right now it feels like you really just go with the flow…"

"Well fights are pretty flowy," Ruby said, pulling up apps on her phone.

Blake and Yang took this as a cue to step onto the stage themselves and fit some training in.

"What are you even looking at now?" Weiss asked.

"Just looking up more of that town we're supposed to help defend for the mission," Ruby said. She sighed deeply, face becoming downcast. She scrolled through photos of sleepy-looking village stuck in the middle of a forest. "This is going to suck. I mean, it's not even that far from Vale, and there's only been a few Grimm sightings…"

"Well, it is an introductory mission," Weiss said.

Ruby scowled. "Still, it makes me mad considering what JNPR is doing…"

Their small fire crackled quietly, yet it was the only real thing they heard in the night of Mountain Glenn. Jaune stood apart from it, beside the only window in the small apartment they'd settled in the for the night. He peered outside, idly wishing they could have taken Blake for her ability to see through the night.

Behind him, in the cramped living room, was the rest of his team. The fire burned dimly, just as he'd insisted; it was just strong enough to provide a little warmth and heat up their MRE's. Also according to Jaune's orders, they'd stacked their backpacks between it and the window, limiting the amount of light that went outside. Jaune had originally not wanted a fire at all, for it wasn't too cold and light is dangerous at night. The others had insisted, however, so he compromised and let them have one for a few hours.

Now he just stood by the window, looking out. Their room was on the second floor, chosen because fewer animals or Grimm would wander in and they could all easily jump out to escape in an emergency.

At least the moon was full, so he saw out into the street before them fairly easily. He watched the occasional canis stalk by, but that was all. They'd done a lot of killing already during the daytime.

Jaune sighed and glanced back to his friends and his mentor, all sat around the fire. He was regretting volunteering for the first watch, since he really just wanted to sit down and get some rest after the long day of fighting. He just shook his head and looked back out the window, not wanting to keep his gaze away too long.

This was a strange situation for him. He tried not to let his mind wander, to focus on the watch. He really did. However, it was too boring, uneventful, and he had too much to think about. He was out here in a brand new world, but somehow he'd wound up right back where he'd come from. He was leading his team through a ruined city. He'd failed in doing that once.

I won't fail again.

He clenched his fists and scowled, glaring with a new intensity out into the night, angry at nothing in particular, so much as the situation as a whole; the entire city offended him with its familiarity and its danger.

And on top of that, he'd founder a mentor of sorts. He called him his mentor… even though they really hadn't done much at all together. But Qrow had given him everything he now cared for… there must be some special title for that.

His silent guard was broken with the sound of footsteps nearing him.

He turned and saw Pyrrha approach. He gave her a courteous nod before turning his attention back out the window.

"Hey," she said as she leaned against the wall beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Same." She waited a moment for him to continue the talk, but then sighed when she realized he wouldn't. It was a frustrated sigh. "How else are you feeling? You've been on edge all day."

"I think that's reasonable," Jaune replied, "given how dangerous our situation is. Stuck in a Grimm-infested city with some dangerous people probably hanging around too."

"It's not ideal, that's for sure," Pyrrha said, chuckling dryly, humorlessly. "But I saw it in you since we were assigned to this mission, a kind of nervousness. And ever since we landed here, it's been much more intense.

"You're so on edge, so focused and serious now."

"Hm." He kept looking out of the window, trying to pay attention even as he thought of a reply. "I just don't like being back in a place like this."

"It reminds you of home," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah." Jaune sighed, and his hand naturally fell to rest on the pistol at his waist as the general impression of his past experiences fell upon him. "My home was just like this, ruined old cities filled with monsters and murderers. A lot of people die in places like that. I just want to make sure we're all safe."

He gulped.

He thought back to time on Earth. He remembered the hellish trenches outside the Washington monument, where he'd had to fight supermutants. He remembered a terrifying experience of hiding from a deathclaw in a factory he unluckily decided to shelter in one night. He remembered that horrifying first experience at the grocery store Moira sent him too. Of course, there was the nightmarish steel-runs at the Pitt, as well.

"Everywhere I look, I think of all the possible monsters and crazy shit that could be hiding there," he said. Supermutants, centaurs, raiders… Enclave. "It scares me, and I don't want to be caught off-guard, and I don't want to fail all of you."

"We appreciate it," Pyrrha said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Being so wound up, he flinched at the moment of contact, but knowing who it was, he immediately calmed down, even leaned back a bit so her hand pressed against him with a bit more pressure, so he knew for sure that she was close and comforting.

"How about you go sit down," Pyrrha said. She lightly squeezed his shoulder. "I can take first watch. You've worked hard today."

A part of him wanted to contest that, but a larger part of him knew by now that his mom friend wouldn't stand seeing him under duress like this any longer. He smiled.

"Thanks," he said. "I'd like that."

Breath deep. Hold. Release.

He stepped away from the window and let Pyrrha take his place. As he did, his shoulders finally seemed to relax. He hadn't even realized that they'd been so tense for so long. He sighed as it felt like a whole host of muscles in his body at once seemed to comfortably melt a little.

"Oh hey," he told her, a little smile on his face. "I forgot to show you something."

Pyrrha turned from the window for a second to look as Jaune brought up his scroll. She gasped and smiled when she saw what it was.

"Ruby sent me a ton of photos of Zwei," Jaune said excitedly. "Some go all the way back to when he was a puppy!"

"Awwww," Pyrrha cooed, taking the scroll from him to swipe through the photo album. Indeed, there was a tiny Zwei cupped in the hands of a much younger Ruby, then one of him being hoisted by a younger Yang. He was barely more than a little ball of fur back then, but he still had those nice big watery eyes and that cute little tongue sticking out—

They heard gunshots.

Instantly, Jaune swiped his scroll from Pyrrha's hands and stashed it into his pocket as he ducked toward the window, pressed himself against the wall beside it. He drew the Mysterious Magnum and peered outside.

Breathe deep. Hold. Release.

As his lungs flexed, his eyes strained to tear through the darkness. Deeper in the room, his other teammates and Qrow also sprung to their feet. Nora quickly stamped out the fire, just as he'd ordered them to, should any suspicious sound arise. This was a bit more than suspicious.

They heard a loud, guttural roar, one which echoed in itself and carried far through the night. Jaune's eyes widened and his measured breathing caught for a moment. That exact roar… it was just like a certain sound he'd learned in the wasteland, a dreaded hint that you were in big trouble.

He shook his head and quietly whispered to himself, "No way." None of those things were on Remnant. Just another odd Grimm.

"Someone help me!" He heard the desperate scream, followed by more gunfire. This time, he saw the muzzle flashes just down the street, and when he squinted, he made out a figure in the dark. It ran closer towards them, before turning a street just down the block.

Then he saw a large shape rush across the street after it. The movement of the shape, even in the dark… its specific swift gait gave Jaune an uncomfortable sense of dim familiarity. He'd seen something run in the dark like that before.

But no, there are certainly plenty of Grimm out there who behave like that as well. Probably still just tripped up by that uncanny roar.

Still, he felt goosebumps all along his skin.

"Come on," Jaune said. "That guy's fucked if we don't help"–he place both hands on the blown-out windowsill, ready to vault–"and he might know something useful!"

Jaune jumped out, focusing his aura to have a painless landing on the sidewalk below. He moved forward, quickly running across the street, followed immediately by Pyrrha and then the others. He hugged the wall of the first building he came across, then kept running down the street.

"Help me!" he heard again, following by more gunshots. Although he couldn't see the muzzle flashes now, the shots were near. The screaming was followed up by another chilling roar, close indeed. The predator and its prey were near.

He looked up at a building just ahead of him, what looked like an abandoned warehouse. It was dead ahead in the direction of the screaming. Must be it. An open loading bay door lead inside. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Pyrrha and the others were rights behind him. They were barely a few feet away. Reassured, he didn't stop to hop up into the entrance—

Instantly, the sound of rusty metal grinding against itself screeched through the night, and the giant loading bay door shuttered down behind him wickedly fast, a ton of metal cutting through the air like a guillotine. Surprised, Pyrrha yelped and stepped back so as not be crushed. This let the door crash against the ground between she and her team leader.

Jaune was trapped.

"Fuck!" He brought up the Mysterious Magnum before him, ready to fire. He frantically glanced left and right, seeing only the debris of a bare and empty warehouse, all dark and obscure, barely any light coming through big broken windows. However, he glimpsed some slight movement to the side, and he looked just in time to see a humanoid figure ducking down behind a bulky machine, what could have been the controls for the bay doors.

"You!" He pointed his gun at the hiding man. "What the fuck—"

That same terrible roar, chilling and loud and reverberating, tore through the empty space. And to Jaune's horror, it came from just above him.

He barely looked up in time to see a large, dark figure descending from an overhung railing. He desperately hurled himself out of the way, managing to dodge the creature's great claws as they swiped for him. It landed with a loud wumpf! and a spray of dust and dirt.

Jaune hit the floor and rolled away, then clumsily aimed and fired.

The tough slug hit the monster's shoulder… where a bright flash sparked, and the slug was deflected off the creature's skin.

Jaune's eyes widened.

Aura. This monster had aura.

In his moment of shock, the creature charged. Jaune cocked the magnum in time to pull the trigger just as the creature lashed out with a long, clawed hand, which struck his wrist hard. The sudden hit, combined with the buck of the magnum, launched his gun right out of his hand.

Then the creature ducked, reached both arms around him and drew Jaune close into a tight, crushing embrace. Its legs kicked off, and Jaune felt himself get carried away.

The loading bay doors suddenly exploded after this desperate exchange, lasting barely a few seconds. Pyrrha had used her polarity to rip it down, but the monster already had Jaune in his grip, and it was already bounding away with him across the warehouse floor.

"No!" he heard one of his teammates scream. He couldn't tell who it was, his senses muffled from being pressed against a leathery chest, hearing just this creature's tough heartbeat and low breathing. He was distracted also by the feeling of his ribs being compressed by the monster's great arms, an effect that made it barely possible for him to breath, let alone call out in more than quiet wheezes. Even with his own superhuman strength, Jaune was unable to outmatch the monster's terrible grip as it charged across the warehouse, ducking under a hail of gunfire from his team.

It jumped up onto a crate, then leapt off and out of a window. Old glass shattered as the creature launched itself out the building. Jaune felt cold hair rush against his hair as the monster bounded down the street, then ducked into a building.

That continued for a little while: the creature expertly dodged through the abandoned buildings, leaping and running by a few curious and startled Grimm as it did so. Eventually, the thing crashed into an old storefront. The cash-register section had been swallowed up by an old sinkhole, now a dark entrance to the world below. The creature dove in without hesitation.

So Jaune was left even more out of sort as his whole world became utterly black. The rancid smell of ancient sewage and fresh mold made him gag, and his stomach churned with the uneven, quick gait of his captor.

The monster slid this way and that, ran around this corner and then another. Jaune realized darkly that there was no way he could possibly find his way back out of this damp labyrinth.

Suddenly the creature stopped, and Jaune's unpleasant vice-trap situation was ended as it dropped him to the hard, stone floor.

Instantly, Jaune rolled away and sprung to his feet. He pulled Crocea Mors from its scabbard and pulled the trigger. The cruel weapon screamed in his grip, agitated and rearing to tear into whatever Grimm this was.

He blinked and squinted, noting that this room had a single industrial spotlight at one end. It was the sort of independent light that he was used to seeing back in the wasteland, hooked up to its own generator, good for stowing away in places with no electricity. This one hummed and cast a strong beam across the room, which seemed to be an old maintenance store. Abandoned uniforms and cleaning supplies littered the floor, with open lockers lining the wall.

The creature, however, still stuck back in the shadow, and Jaune couldn't yet get a good look at it. Something in the back of his mind didn't like the shape of its silhouette, but a more rational part of himself put down that silly fear.

"Alright asshole," he said, pulling back into a ready stand and brandishing his ripping chainsword before him.

Breathe deep. Hold. Rel—

"Let's not fight."

Jaune's breathing stopped. His eyes widened.

"Let's talk."

A deep voice, gravelly and warbling. Unmistakably inhuman, it had an airy and biting edge to it, as if the speaker had no lips with which to properly form each syllable. And at its core the voice reminded one of an animalistic growl.

And it was all coming directly from the monster in the dark.

Jaune still couldn't breathe. His jaw had dropped, and now he only stared, mouth agape at the monster. His grip on Crocea Mors lightened, so that his fingers no longer pressed down on the chainsword's trigger. It stopped its incessant screaming, allowing quiet to seep into the room.

"Good," said the monster. "Let's talk."

"What…" Jaune shook his head, barely able to muster that single word. A thousand thoughts tore through his mind, all wondering how this could be possible. Some kind of bizarre semblance or—

The creature stepped out of the darkness, into the single beam of light in the room.

Jaune gasped. A terrible feeling came to his chest, as if his entire rib-cage was being crushed, pulled into a black hole that had formed in the middle of his abdomen. A sickening sensation arose where his heart was supposed to be, of something heavy and foreign—something that shouldn't be. His hands shook, and he dropped Crocea Mors. The sword clattered to the stone floor, then lay motionless at his feet.

Two horns. Sharp claws half a foot long. Bare jaws with wicked fangs. Beady yellow eyes. A tough, brown hide like tanned leather. A long, tough tail. Stark muscles lining a lean frame, as tall and wide as a supermutant. Now it was impossible for him to deny how he'd recognized that earlier roar in the night.

Jaune looked at the deathclaw, and the deathclaw looked back.

"My name is Orion," it said.

Its powerful, deadly jaw flexed those vicious teeth, and Jaune saw its forked tongue slither inside its mouth. That same kind of dreaded maw he had seen crush a man's skull, or rip off a man limb. Now it was being used to speak like a human. It made him shudder. Before him was something supremely impossible. Not only was there a deathclaw on Remnant, but it was capable of speaking. This was inconceivable to him, and the sheer shock paralyzed his mind, in turn rendering his body frozen. It wasn't attacking him, so his confused brain was free to be as confused and paralyzed as it needed, spiraling in the unknown and the inconceivable. His utter bewilderment would only increase with what the deathclaw said next:

"You are the Lone Wanderer."