I have been rebirthed. Re-genesis. Or something Idk.
Hello, welcome to my rework of the short-lived series. I pray you guys just have as much as hope in me as I have with my ideas. Anyway, not much to say right now besides...
Enjoy!
Chapter 1: As one door closes
Ever felt like you died? Not physically, but the scorching feeling in your chest, as if your soul was broken in a mere moment. The swift realization of just seeing something heartbreaking for yourself. Just kill you…
It's an unpleasant experience we all have to go through sometimes. That's just how it is when you grow up, for some earlier than others. Whatever you might see that as good or bad, depends.
Something similarly felt to one at the edge of a bed in a shady motel, Jaune Arc sat with a letter in his hand, his face etched with sadness as he read it. Although the emotions it brought were just plain horrible, he couldn't tear himself away from it. Like a vice, it's bad for him, but just couldn't tear away from.
He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to come to terms with the letter. He struggled to make sense of it, reading it once more to make sure he didn't read it wrong.
—-
Dear Mr. Arc,
I am writing to inform you that we have not been able to offer you admission to Beacon academy. We received a record number of applications this year, and admission decisions were very difficult.
We were very impressed with your qualifications. However, we have decided to offer admission to other applicants whose qualifications more closely align with our current needs. These applicants have a strong academic record, a variety of extracurricular activities, and a clear passion for our academy.
…
These applicants have a strong academic record, a variety of extracurricular activities, and a clear passion for our academy.
We understand that this decision may be disappointing. However, we want to assure you that your application was carefully considered. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.
We know that you are a talented and accomplished individual. We encourage you to continue to pursue your goals. We are confident that you will be successful in whatever you do.
Great regards,
Deputy Headmistress & Dean of admission.
—-
Despite the minutes it took, sure, he bounced back from it. It wasn't easy to accept that he got rejected, but he's bound to just face reality, eventually. One written in a letter where he decided best for it to be resting inside a trash bin.
So there's his dreams crushed and the path of being a hunstman now came at a dead-end. Someone unworthy, like him, could even have a chance to have a spot at a prestigious academy.
He chuckled, dead-end; Just like where he is now. A dead-end motel at a bad part of the kingdom, working a dead-end job to just barely make the rent, all while thinking he could have a become someone he couldn't. Waiting for a letter that came differently than he hoped.
He should have known this dream of following in the footsteps of the previous Arcs was nothing but a pipe dream. He can see it, yet can't get a grasp at.
Guess the world already had other things planned for him, and just like his own family said. "Never should have become a huntsman." Why bother? He should have seen it coming, forging an application and all? It was very costly for him to have it rejected. Maybe it's a sign that he should stop and turn back.
From the beginning, the goal he had was suicidal, no proper training, no combat school and only the intervention of the letter kept him from becoming a corpse sooner or later.
Believe him when crying was the last thing on his mind, but he couldn't hold back the tears for long. His trembling fists ball up as he wipes them across his face. He didn't relent for long, however. Time wasn't very kind to him.
He let a few more minutes fly off in a daze, one consisting of steadying his breathing and just try to process everything. So this was it. His dreams shattered and nowhere to go.
So what comes next for him? He could turn back, tail tucked between his legs back home and beg to be taken back and admit his faults to his family.
He could always return to his ordinary life at home. The option has been open since the beginning. However, a part of him realizes that if he does, he'll never shake off the shame of running away.
The only thing he has left is his dignity, and right now it's at a miserable motel. What a fitting conclusion to end this chapter of his life.
Through the window, the various lights of the kingdom illuminating the night sky in the distance. It left a ray of light in Jaune's room that reminded him.
He has a shift tomorrow night. Maybe he could live out his the rest of his life in Vale. Try to make something of himself here. Sure the hunstman dream is off the table in terms of opportunities now, but maybe there's something else for him here if he tried hard enough.
Who knows, he might stumble upon a diner that requires a cook and if he's lucky, he could scrounge up enough cash to last himself for longer. Just enough to decide on what he wants to do with his life in Vale.
Time can only really tell that he might open up his own small cafe, but that's way too optimistic thinking; and look where that took him.
His eyes turned back to the letter, more accurately, where he tossed it. As he let out a heavy sigh, he came to the conclusion that perhaps getting some sleep would be good right about now.
He went to the bathroom, hoping the medication would help him clear his head and get a good night's sleep.
When he stops to take a moment to reflect on his appearance, Gods, he realized just how much paler he was than usual and the dark circles around his eyes seemed to have grown thicker than last he looked into a mirror. It's a sorry sight, his face is.
The stress from the constant nightmares had taken its toll on him. His usually bright eyes were dull and red from his crying. The fatigue of sleepless nights had left him feeling drained and exhausted the next day.
From the medicine cabinet, he grabs a small orange bottle in his hands.
Ambien. The plain white label stated that it was for medical use only.
Jaune's fingers fumble with the plastic cap, making a soft clicking sound as he finally manages to unscrew it. Well, there's no waiting for what's about to come. He crossed his mind now and was about to raise the pill to his mouth until. Might need another just in case, can't have any interruptions.
The bottle shook gently as another pills plop down into his open hand. Without hesitation swallows them, feeling the pills slide down his throat, cool and slick, and ultimately sets for his bed and waits for their effects to take hold soon. Time to let dreamland take him once more.
There it was again, that familiar stench of burning tobacco appeared and overwhelmed his nostrils like a speeding freight train. He slowly fluttered open his eyes, disoriented by the change in his surroundings. The room he had fallen asleep in had taken shape of something entirely different.
The sight of the bland beige wallpaper had transformed into something entirely different, almost nauseating at the resembling a nightmarish lucid dream that was just coming to life before his eyes.
The walls surrounding him now became made of frigid, rough steel that looks like a cage locking him inside with Large, transparent glass domes act as a barrier between him and the icy, murky waters of the vast ocean beyond, providing a visual feast of the eerie sea creatures floating by.
With the smell of the salty ocean water filling his nostrils as an icing on top…Yep, he was back home. Even his clothes warped into something suitable, a cable-knit sweater with loose threads, a dress pants with tears, and a pair of dirty wing-tip shoes.
Rapture, what the place is called when he first arrived here. The idea of a city built under the water was beyond logical, but now he's standing in the middle of it all.
A city shrouded in secrecy, isolated from the rest of the world. It was a haven exclusively reserved for the most brilliant, innovative, and artistic individuals could pursue their passions and hone their skills without being hindered by the ethical constraints of society.
Well, it's what the projector showed during his trip to the city.
With nothing to stop them. Here in this city, without ethics to dictate what is morally correct caused the city to become a technological wonderland, one that could even beat Atlas's own. Years ahead of whatever the albinos up north could only ever theorize or dream about, Rapture already did it first, and even commercialized first it if seen the chance.
Up to now, the glory of the city was long since gone with everything broken, bodies and trash everywhere piling high, and glass walls on the verge of bursting or already cracked with waters leaks to a full-blown waterfall at some areas. It was like witnessing the further deterioration of a broken kingdom first hand with its citizens scraping its corpse.
No ethics, no morality… Huh, wasn't hard to imagine the lessons from the past being tossed away would lead to a society dominated by lavish living and brutal work culture would lead to its demise. Even an idiot like him could raise an eyebrow at that notion.
Then there is what's left of the denizens that roam with no way back to the surface. Complete lunatics run rampant for a hit of the strange substance called "Adam" that made some spew flames out from their body with no pain, encase themselves in ice, summon a swarm of bees from your arms, teleport all around the place and more…
Like semblance was just a hit new thing here and everyone is going insane for it. Only it's all commercialized in a bottle for anyone to inject.
If only things were that easy…
How far the mighty have fallen, indeed.
But none of that matter now.
Why, the moment Jaune regained consciousness, he instinctively reached for its revolver by the holster on his waist, grasping it firmly in his hand; with a score to settle.
Within earshot, he picks up rumbling sounds coming from the walls. A vent with a gilded finish opened, and a small girl, who couldn't have been older than five or six, emerged. She huffed and grunted as she attempted to lift an object out of sight from his eyes.
Deciding it might be important, he walked towards the little girl. Passing something onto Jaune, her skin, a pallid shade, casts an eerie glow under the light.
"Here, daddy! Take this… Stick it in the bad man!" That was it, Tenenbaum's answer to stopping that asshole who tricked him. Killing Fontaine would require more than just bullets or plasmid powers. Not when his own blood streams are being replaced by Adam.
That's what the doctor meant to drain Fontaine. Take away the powers… for him to finish the job.
"Alright, kiddo, thanks. Don't you worry, I'll get everyone out of here after I've defeated the bad man. An Arc's promise." Smiled, Jaune's soft words echoed through the empty room. As he held the surgical tool, he was reminded of his ultimate goal: to take down Fontaine. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the touch of his little sister's small and delicate hands on his wrist. Her tone was gentle yet powerful.
It resonated within him for another reason. One that stopped him from laying on the ground on the entrance to the city and just wake up back in his motel scot free.
"We already know you will, daddy. Be careful. Momma and my sisters are counting on you." The little sisters give one last wave to Jaune as she turns back and into the vents.
To save the little sisters from this place.
Give them a future Rapture stole.
As Jaune steps into the elevator, he knows that the final confrontation awaits him. Without hesitation, he reaches for the button that will take him to Fontaine.
A ragged breath escapes him.
This is it. Everything had accumulated until this moment. That Fontaine had meticulously planned and staged everything from the beginning to the end with his ultimate takeover. However, he overlooked one crucial detail - a proper ending for him.
As a consequence, he himself is still alive, and he has plans to make a few rewrites of his own.
Next chapter: 2 Open, shall the others.