Jaune stabbed outwards, Crocea Mors piercing through the air and hitting nothing. Just as good for him, he supposed, as there wasn't a target he was aiming for.
The combat stage and the seats surrounding it were empty and silent. Nobody was here to see him. And it'd be empty for a good while. Classes started at the crack of dawn, but the rooms were opened some time before that.
His hand twitched to the left. That wasn't good, he needed to be stable. Jaune closed his eyes and took a few breaths. The twitching subsided.
Ignoring the ache in his arms and the emptiness in his stomach, he slashed at the air.
He would prove them all wrong.