CHAPTER 2 – Questions Asked

With a gasp of air, Jaune sat up so swiftly that for that one moment, he could have sworn he was faster than even Ruby. His body hurt and his lungs ached as he so desperately huffed and puffed, taking in every bit of that oh-so-precious oxygen. He almost didn't care where he was; all he wanted was relief, freedom from the stinging pain in his lungs.

Almost.

By the time he had taken in far more than his fair share of air, he finally took in his surroundings. His new surroundings. Once again, Jaune Arc had found himself within someplace new, somewhere even stranger than where he was before. And given how the last place was filled with skulls, stained glass, and all sorts of strange machines, that was certainly saying something.

So, with nothing else better to do, Jaune Arc stood up and took watch over the new environment he appeared in. Unlike before, there was nothing man-made or artificial in this place. No, as far as Jaune could see, he was in an empty world, nothing to see but white. Everywhere he looked, from the sky above to the horizon, everything was white.

"Where am I now?"

When he spoke, his voice echoed, reverberating all around him even though there were no walls for the sound to bounce back from, just nothing but white.

"Could this be a Semblance? Could it be my Semblance?"

Was that even possible? Jaune didn't know much about Aura or Semblances, but if something like Ruby turning into roses was possible, surely something like a… like a… different dimension was too, right?

With a screaming groan, Jaune clutched his face with his hands. He had never been one for praying, neither were any of his friends or family really, but in this moment, he wanted to pray, to ask anyone who was listening for answers. He didn't expect to hear an answer but today was a day filled with nothing but surprises.

He heard it. It was a song, music so warm… so melodic and wondrous… something anyone would be glad to listen to, even if it was only for a moment. When he looked forward once more, he saw a figure in the distance, a golden glow brighter than even the sun. And yet, as bright as it was, his eyes didn't hurt, no matter how long or hard he gazed upon it.

As if a fire was lit in his very soul, Jaune Arc began to move, walking forward, all towards that ever-distant light on the horizon. He didn't know what it was or why it was here but Jaune Arc, deep within the bottom of his soul that treading towards it was the right choice.

If only it were so easy. Jaune had been walking forwards for what seemed like hours now, even running, and yet, he hadn't closed the distance between him and the figure on the horizon. Not even a single step closer. But Jaune wasn't one to give up. Nothing worth doing was ever easy in the first place and if he wanted answers, he wouldn't give up.

Even when his own family didn't believe in him, even when they tried to push him away from the path of a Huntsman, he never gave up on his dream. Why then would he give up now? What kind of hero gives up at the start of their journey?

Jaune Arc might be a fool but if there was one thing anyone would say, he was certainly one stubborn fool.

And so, with a smile on his face and legs that ached like hell, he walked, and he ran towards the light. So focused was he on his goal that he didn't even notice his eyes drooping with every passing moment nor did he notice his body slowing as exhaustion and fatigue started to take its toll.

For even though his spirit and soul burned brighter than ever, the same could not be said for his body. And so, Jaune Arc tumbled and fell, falling into unconsciousness once more. But if one looked closer, perhaps they would see that Jaune had indeed made it closer to the figure. Only a few dozen feet out of who knows how many miles, but the boy had closed the distance, even if only slightly.

Jaune Arc woke with a gasp once again. But this time, instead of being within a world of endless white plains, he found himself lying down on something metal and cold, something that felt very much like an operating table. And an instant later, he jolted up.

Taking in his surroundings, from the skulls embedded within every foot of the walls and the blocky metal computers around him, most of which were broken and shattered, he knew that he was back where he was before, wherever that was. Or at least, somewhere similar. After all, before whatever happened to him, he could distinctly remember at least half a dozen broken walls and this room was quite a bit smaller than the hallway he was in. Not that it helped much. He still didn't know where he was or why he was here. To make matters worse, he was getting rather cold, almost enough to make him shiver.

"Oh. That's why." Jaune only had to look down and now he knew why he was feeling so cold. Someone or something had taken off his shirt and his hoodie, leaving him with only his pants and shoes. And wasn't that just worrying?

Then again, whatever took him clearly did it to save him. Either that or they didn't think he was a threat again. Still, he doubted it was that last one. After all, why go through all the effort to make sure he stayed alive and keep Crocea Mors strapped by his belt if they didn't care about his life?

Now, regardless of how his rescuer thought, he needed to see if anything else was amiss. If only there was a mirror somewhere in this dark and dingy room. Jaune would have a far easier checking over himself if there was.

"That's… bad."

He didn't notice it before, mainly on account of him wondering where his shirt and hoodie were, but on his chest, there was a thin line running right down the center, starting from his sternum, and ending around half a foot away from where his pants were. It was a scar, one so thin that no one would've seen it unless they were looking for it. And yet there it was. Why did he have a scar there and why hadn't his aura healed it up?

Once again, Jaune found himself desperately scouring the room, scrutinizing each and every inch of. Moments later, he spotted the rest of his clothes, haphazardly thrown aside in separate directions of the room. While that was nice to know, his clothes weren't really important, especially when he saw the drops of blood at the bottom of the table he woke up on.

There wasn't much, but they were there and Jaune had a feeling in his gut that he wasn't going to like where the blood drops came from. Not one bit. But he couldn't stop. He had so many questions and he needed an answer to at least one of them, no matter how much the small voice in his head warned and disparaged him of what he would see.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those discouraging thoughts, Jaune's sapphire eyes followed the drops of blood on the metal floor. And the more he followed the trail of blood, the thicker it became. It was no longer mere droplets that he was gazing upon. The blood had turned into a stream and when he finally saw what lay at the end, he couldn't, wouldn't believe what his eyes could see.

Lungs. A pair of lungs. A fresh pair of lungs. And his instincts were telling him that those were his lungs, taken from his chest only mere minutes ago with how wet and red they were.

One question was answered and yet so many more were raised.

Why were his lungs there? How did they get there? Who took them out there? How was he still breathing!?

"Am I still breathing?" Now that the thought wormed its way into his head, Jaune realized something. Ever since he woke up, he couldn't remember ever taking a breath within those short few minutes.

"But how?" So many questions ran through his head that he almost didn't hear the skittering of metal on metal or see the shadow of something massive come to a stop behind him.

Swiftly, Jaune Arc turned on his foot and unsheathed his sword from the scabbard on his waist, prepared to take part once again in a fight, anything to take his mind off the thought someone rummaging around his insides like some sort of mad scientist from his comics.

Whatever it was, it was massive. Larger than even an Ursa, the thing in front of him was clearly a machine and it wasn't any machine he was ever familiar with. In all of Remnant's technological prowess, not once had he ever seen a robot like the one before him.

Looking like a mix between a spider and a crab, the thing in front of Jaune Arc was certainly very threatening and yet, it didn't seem to mean him any harm. It continued to stand right in front of him, and from the positioning of its dozen green glowing eyes—there was a lot of green on the thing, really—Jaune couldn't help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction coming from the machine.

"Did you do this?" Jaune asked the machine as he jutted out his chest and pointed out the thin scar down the center of it.

Responding with what might have been a nod, the machine quickly skittered once more, taking up a new position at Jaune's side, kind of like a particularly clingy dog. A lot like Zwei, now that he thought about it. That is if Zwei was a nasty-looking robot that could crush a Beowolf or an Ursa with its massive claws.

Jaune shook his head. At the very least, he was glad that he wasn't alone anymore and that he wouldn't have to travel this strange all by his lonesome. Plus, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, even if they couldn't exactly talk back.

"Hey, what's your name?" Jaune asked, although he didn't exactly expect an answer. And he didn't get one. All the machine did was stare at him with its unblinking emerald-green eyes.

"So, that's probably a no then. Don't worry. I'll think of a name for you." Jaune smiled back in response and somehow, someway, he could feel the metal spider smiling back at him.

Once again, Jaune Arc found himself, along with his strange metal companion, traversing the wide hallways of this strange place and he was clearly in a very different part of it. For one thing, these hallways were far better maintained. Gone were the flickering lights and the clouds of dust, replaced with clean air that reminded him of the Emerald Forest and lights that almost made it seem that he was somewhere outside and not within a cold and iron military base.

Of course, with visibility brought back to acceptable levels, it was pushed further just how different this place was from Beacon, from Vale, from anywhere else in Remnant that Jaune could think of. Beautiful paintings and sculptures were hanging down every corner and yet not once could he recognize any of the things depicted by them.

Soldiers and heroes were clad in unfamiliar armor, facing down foes and monsters that looked as if they were taken from his worst nightmares. From crystal golems to gigantic centipedes and so many more, it almost looked like something straight out of a video game or a fantasy novel.

However, what really drove the point home to Jaune that he was somewhere very, very far away, was the fact that he couldn't see any depictions of Grimm. No Beowolfs, no Ursi, no Creeps, nothing. And that was terrifying.

No matter where you were and who you are, you would know of the Grimm. Nowhere on Remnant would you ever find people who had not heard of the Grimm in some way shape or form. But here, in these hallways dedicated to what seemed to be soldiers and warriors, there was nothing about the Grimm.

"Where am I?" He asked himself that question before but now, he was somehow both closer and farther to any answers.

Jaune was taken away from his thoughts when he felt the cold yet comforting touch of the spider drone on his arm. If he didn't notice its skittering, he must have been more panicked than he thought. Now he just felt bad. Here the spider was, reassuring him while he was freaking out and yet, he couldn't even give it a name.

"It's alright buddy. I just panicked a little bit. I'll be fine." He reassured his partner with a pat on what seemed to be its head. The machine nuzzled into his arm, almost purring in a sense.

"What about you? Do you recognize anything in these paintings?" Jaune asked, gesturing with his free hand towards the décor on the walls. It was a long shot but given that it was here longer than he was, it was worth a shot.

The robot quickly scampered away from him, coming to a stop right in front of the largest piece of art, a landscape painting of huge warriors clad in armor facing off against a horde of what could only be demons, complete with red skin, leathery wings, and hooves.

With a gentleness Jaune didn't expect of it, the machine laid one of its massive green glowing pincers onto the portrait, tapping one of the armored warriors with the tip of the claw.

"I guess you do know what they are." Thank Dust that it looked like at least one of them knew how things worked around. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have helped Jaune much.

"If only you could talk." With a glance back at the still nameless machine, the two of them continued to tread forward. One wary of the dangers lurking within the strange locale he was, the other content to happily scamper along with its partner, more than capable of facing whatever dangers they might encounter.