Chapter 2

"The heart, the cause of much pain. Sometimes I fear one would be better off without it. The pain, or the heart? Why, both, of course."

"A fire of determination, fed by that which is of rot, is not and nor shall it ever be, preferable to one fed by an honest desire."

"Rrgh, where are your legs?!" The furious shout rang out, echoing and carrying in the long, winding tunnels alongside the sound of rushing, murky and aged water. "I promise I'm going to break them quickly!"

The hammer collided with the scythe of the Reaper itself. In a show of sparks, the spiked edge of the mighty weapon clanged so loud the sound shot through the tunnels and circled back around, carried for hundreds of feet on end and reverberating, shaking the water itself in an audible, ever turning wheel. The combined force of the hammer, and a sudden surge of strength from the sword, pushed back Death itself and the cloak figure was as a shadow floating in mid-air, menacing with its dark visage and indifferent, but unflappable movements.

It was not a fight they could win right now. A riftstone, he decided, they needed to retreat!

He shouted. "Run!" At the top of his lungs, his voice tore through the darkness, leaving him feeling hoarse.

"I can't, master!" Came the return, unintentionally spitting in the face of the uncontested rule of Pawns, to obey implicitly. "I refuse to leave you behind!"

There was no time to feel any warmth behind those words. The scythe descended.

It appears you already have save data present. Attempting to load save file (please do not turn off 'system')… Attempting to merge save data with current world state…

…Merge save data failed. Load save file failed. Attempting to load save file contents…

…Load error: it appears the save data present on the 'system' is either corrupt, or incompatible. Save Parameters REMNANT not valid. Warning, attempting to integrate save contents with current save game could lead to corruption. Would you like to attempt to integrate save previous save, REMNANT_JauneArc?

Yes/No?

…There is no system such as AURA present in this game. Would you like to forcibly integrate it?

…There is no such vocation such as HUNTSMAN in this game. Would you like to forcibly integrate it?

…There is no such ability as SEMBLANCE in this game. Would you like to forcibly integrate it?

Yes/No?

Yes/No?

Yes/No? Yes/No? Yes/No? Yes/No? Yes/N-

"You're awake."

He jumped at the sudden voice. His vision, at once clouded boxes upon boxes asking for some now covered script, erupted in a show of light. It was as if he'd been staring into the dark and now the light of the room at once made him cringe and cover his eyes. But just like that, the boxes were gone, and he was back in…

Jaune didn't know where he was.

He looked around the room. Sandy stonework, but it was nothing he had ever seen. It certainly didn't bare any resemblance to any type of building he had been in. It just didn't… click. In fact, it didn't look like anyone ever built any room, and thus building, like it. It was sparse, but crafted, with self-made shelves and potted plants and a fire place at the end of it all, but lacked the amenities and such that he had come to expect from the world he knew.

He rubbed at his eyes and absently waved his hand around, right where the words and boxes used to be, where he was sure his name- Jaune Arc!-sat with Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen in cheery, odd greeting, despite the morbidity of a splatter of blood. He felt only the oddity of it, and blinked.

Jaune heard a slight giggle and readily realized that he wasn't alone again. Having lost himself in the momentary investigation, he hadn't heard the soft patter of feet on the- he looked down. The floor was made of smooth, cool gravel, and Jaune himself was laying on what had to be the most comfortable looking bedspread he had ever seen. It was so soft he hadn't even felt the floor until his palm touched the cool stone and he recoiled from the temperature.

Hissing, he caught sight of two feet, and then knees, and slowly, his eyes went up. It was a girl.

Her hair, chestnut and long enough to reach well past her shoulders, she had two peculiar tufts at the top that made them look almost like… folded ears. If his vision were still bleary it certainly would have looked like she had ears sprouting from the top of her head. Apart from this she looked relatively disheveled and unrested, but she smiled at him with obvious relief. Jaune blinked at her.

She waved at him in return her, or so she thought, having taken his blind-to-the-world motion as a hello. It was a shy, dainty wave, fraught with hesitancy. She looked nice, Jaune thought distantly. Then, just as distantly, he thought the last thing he felt before waking up was an immense pressure on his chest, and a pop, then liquid, coppery liquid, in his mouth, bubbling up, and then nothing.

A morbid thought came to him, but without any feeling. The something liquid and coppery in his mouth, and then the… nothing wasn't unlike being kicked and biting his tongue, actually. Blood. But there was only a single second that seemed to stretch forever when he was kicked before his entire body would protest and lock up and he couldn't breathe.

There was no such sensation here. Simply nothing, that was all Jaune could remember before waking up. …And for some reason that didn't bother him.

"We were all worried," the girl, no, young woman, said. She pursed her lips. "Everyone in the village has been waiting."

Jaune shook his head. What was she talking about? Village? He opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. His throat felt very dry and the noise that came out of his mouth was like dust and glass at once.

"Oh, my apologies, ser!" The girl said, jumping in fright. Her hair bounced up and down, as well as the ear-like tufts on top of her head as she moved to one of the shelves before the sandy wall, and came back with a tall bottle of water. With the sweet bedside manner of a nurse she motioned for him to still and reached out, hesitantly touching his shoulder as she motioned for him to lean his head back. With his throat as dry as it had ever been in his life, Jaune had no complaints.

The water went down cold, and it was the best thing Jaune had ever tasted in his life, balancing everything out. Almost. He coughed slightly, and as he shook his head to get the cobwebs out, he peered over the girl's shoulder to see any sign of wild boxes. There was none, clever boxes. "V-Village?"

"Cassardis, ser," the young woman said, nodding astutely. At any other time Jaune would have felt uncomfortable with her being so close, but he had other things on his mind. "I who live he- we who live here," she corrected herself cutely, sparing a moment to scold herself, "dearly wanted to thank you for-"

"Thank me?" Jaune asked. "For what?"

The images came in an unwelcome way. Jaune could feel a strange pit in his… his chest, and then he saw a claw, and scales, and he felt such a distant anger before he charged and-

The pieces fell into place. Jaune remembered that, and he doubt he ever would have forgotten. Much in the same way, "You don't have to b- Jaune!" would never, ever leave his mind, he wouldn't forget the beach, or his… last words, a thing that, once he thought about it, sounded strange and odd and curious to him, all at once.

"I don't have to be."

"Dragon," Jaune muttered. "Oh man I- a dragon," he said louder, and ran a hand through his hair.

The young woman swallowed audibly. "Y-Yes," she said, and he saw her square her shoulders as if she were collecting confidence for something. "The dragon has returned…" she said, mournfully, and Jaune couldn't really blame her. If a dragon landed on his beach his day would be ruined as well, but he didn't have a beach, and he certainly didn't have a dragon. He had-

Memories. Memories of being flung like a pebble across the wet sand and tumbling, and before that, falling. Jaune frowned. His day was off to a pretty bad start too, he thought.

"But no one was harmed," the young woman said, audibly relieved, and she looked at Jaune with the most grateful smile he had ever seen in his life. Amidst the dry throat, the cold water, and now this, it was a day of record breaking. "Well, not harmed, but- no one perished! Thank you!"

Smooth skin and the smell of cream entered his senses while he was still trying to figure out what she was saying. It didn't make sense. And then it did. In reverse order his memories flashed back to him; the dragon, the fall, the fight, the initiation, arriving at Beacon and then vomiting on a girl and wishing the ground would swallow him up, which it actually had in the worst, delayed way ever. He needed to get back to-

And then nothing. What began as a heated and sudden burst of anxiety simply dissipated, as if there wasn't anything there to fuel the emotion. There was, simply, no heart behind it and without it Jaune's sudden urge fell flat, as did his reaction. He was…

Welcome to Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen!

He wasn't in Vale anymore, definitely, and… it was likely he wasn't on Remnant anymore, either. That thought was like cold and still water, undisturbed and untroubling. But Jaune was willing to bet his family name that it was right, and that got a reaction from him. Whereas before there had been a sudden nothing, like a popped balloon, there was now…cold indifference.

The strongest emotions he felt when thinking of his family, his family name, of the Arcs in their strong, impressive motley… and then him off to the side. They weren't there. There was nothing for the hundredth time, and Jaune felt nothing strong for it, felt no shame or unease or determination fueled by those things, no inadequacy or shame, no-

"You don't have to b- Jaune!"

No sadness. He thought of Arc again and blinked at how empty it felt. All of his life, Arc brought with it a myriad of emotion and very few good on a personal level, but now… now there simply wasn't any heart in it anymore.

That was all the better. The new thought came with a certainty, a distant and frank acknowledgement. The only reason he was here was because of his 'family name'. He didn't have to be. It got him to fall off of a cliff and… and into a fight with a fucking dragon. It just wasn't worth it, the Arc name wasn't it.

Now he was here in a- Dear Oum, either he was in a game, or dead.

The sensation of the young woman pulling away from the hug he hadn't noticed ousted the latter possibility from his head. Her hair tickled him and he blinked as if he'd shut his eyes at some point. He couldn't remember the last time a girl that wasn't his sister or his mother hugged him, and the former was usually in a half-hearted consoling way, as was the latter.

She was looking at him strangely. No, not strangely, worriedly. "Ser?" She asked. "Are you well?" Then she frowned, and herself, and bit her lip. "How rude of me to ask, you're-"she bit her lip again and looked at him, wincing. "Your chest is…"

"My chest?" Jaune asked, and looked down. What he saw made him stop for a few moments and closely observe the sight. When he was finished, the young woman was clenching her jaw and his gaze was mostly empty as he muttered, "Well… Ow."

The girl, girl now being fitting because of the noise she made, shook her head. "I'm sorry you had to suffer as such, ser," she sighed. "The dragon… it has marked you."

Jaune looked at her as the images of the claw, and the scales, and the feeling of his chest popping like a bottle of champagne flashed before him. He remembered choking- now, he remembered a lot of things. Too much. He rubbed at his eyes as if it would accomplish anything, and ignored that it didn't.

"Marked? What-" he paused, and then slowly shook his head. "I don't think I want to know what that means."

He'd never seen such an apologetic look. Not even from his own family. That elicited another missing feeling in his chest, comparable to that of a hammer missing its bell, just barely. So close, but… nothing. Instead, Jaune felt disillusioned.

"…It means you are Arisen, then," the girl sighed.

"Awhatnow?" Jaune repeated after a moment, utterly confused.

She gave him a strange look. "The one destined to slay the dragon," she began, looking at him for any signal of recognition and finding none. "The dragon has claimed your heart, and to retrieve it you must slay it."

"That… sounds like a children's story," Jaune said blandly.

She laughed. "Aye, it's the basis of many a child's story before bed… but is none the less true, and well known, too." She looked at him again and laughed a little, tired laugh. "Usually."

Jaune placed his hand against the scar with a shaking breath as if a single touch would cause it to burst open and he'd be rent into two. He could see the claw, feel it, now, hear the squelch, and-

Nothing. What would have caused the heart to race by quickening his pulse was instead met with silence, and Jaune was… calm. Too calm, unnaturally calm… and Jaune didn't have any complaints. There were no words, no hitching of his breath or fearful catches in his movement, no cold leaps of his stomach that accompanied the sudden, dread realization.

No skips of his heart… because there wasn't one.

Jaune pat his chest once, twice, and beat on it hard when nothing else was there, all with the cool and distant exterior of someone who didn't feel anything. Because he didn't. He beat again, harder. This was, without a doubt, supposed to be a heart thumping, exciting moment, yes? But there was nothing. The lifelong thrum of his heart in his chest was silent, and now that it was gone Jaune felt… he didn't feel anything other than a keen surprise that his chest did not beat, and that was the problem! He couldn't feel his heart, and he didn't feel anything from that! No fear, no sadness, no anxiety, no-

"Ser, please!"

Jaune felt the hands scramble and wrench his own fist from his chest, fingernails digging into his skin. For the first time he realized that the girl, what was her name? He didn't know her name, but her cute face was red, panicked, worried, and distraught… and it was her heart Jaune could hear, it was beating so loud. And there was that look again, that soulful concern that had slowly melted away from his family's faces with bemusement in its stead.

"I can't…" Jaune started, and then trailed off. He looked at his chest and felt… tingles. Hardly a good substitute, but he was grateful for that much. "I feel… Monty, I don't- I don't feel anything."

He thought about his family, and felt nothing. The same with the Arc name, or his myriad of experiences because of it, from being bullied because he was the 'weak one', to being brushed off by his own sisters to being coddled like some malformed puppy to feeling ashamed that he needed to be protected, had to, of being so incompetent-

Hot shame and frustration fizzled. Nothing.

…And Jaune grinned. Elation, that, he could feel. Relief. It seemed to fill the gap, even, which was all the better.

His smile calmed the girl down somewhat, and she breathed deeply. "Your h-heart, ser," she stuttered, swallowing, and once again looked at him with a most strange look, and with good reason. "The dragon has… claimed your heart, marking you as the Arisen," she repeated.

It was very doubtful anyone had ever grinned upon finding out they had just lost their beating heart. But Jaune wasn't just anyone, and he grinned wider, as if the absence of heart wrenching emotion was being substituted by everything positive that had been blocked previously. Like a blocked airway, he felt refreshed.

"That's… that's kind of awesome," he laughed, hearing her clearly for the first time.

She blinked owlishly at him. "I-Indeed," she said, taking his wordage for the less benevolent definition. "It was." A silence fell over them, with her looking down at the ground and Jaune looking everywhere from the ceiling to the fire to his hands, and finally to his chest. He tapped it and felt nothing, save an empty cage.

For her part, she feared his grin might split his face. Worse still, she feared he had gone insane, and she damned that mean, mean old dragon.

"Ser?" She started. "If I may have your name?" She found herself caught off guard by the smile that turned toward her. It was… boyish, but too genuine, too honest to be anything else, and her face turned a softer shade of red.

"Yes,: he said without thinking. "Jaune. Jaune A-" and he stopped, and frowned before starting again a second later. "-Jaune. Short, sweet, and to the point."

In the corner of his eye, Jaune saw a box pop up. Out of view and unobtrusive, he could still see the image of a turning wheel, an ouroboros, accompanying a message that was succinct in its calm lettering.

Creating autosave…

Integration in process…

She nodded, smiling. "Ser Jaune," she tested the name out. It sounded bright, to her, and she gestured to herself. "I am Velvet Scarlaquina, but if you wish… my friends simply call me Velvet."

Thanks for the reviews everyone.

garoorar: Pawns tend to be adorable, as does Ruby. Jaune is... well, he fell into the Forever Fall. Take out the F-O, and you get...?

Galabrax: Hey, shameless not-promotion! Jaune will end up in Remnant, but the scar, specifically the one on his chest, stays. It's bad. Not badass, just bad.

I've seen other Gamer fics make use of something called Gamer's Mind, but I haven't ever read that particular webcomic. However, I saw a parallel between what I did and what I've seen the Gamer's mind do, and liked it. Yay, me.