It was a silent walk to the Headmaster's Office.

The halls were empty and the only sound that could be heard was the sharp clacking of Glynda's heels as she marched with Jaune in tow. After a few terse words with the office secretary- Professor Ozpin had a last minute call with a very important donor he simply could not refuse and he'd be with them as soon as possible- the two blonds found themselves seated in front of the man's desk.

It was an odd place. Ozpin had arrayed an assortment of trinkets and tchotskies on top of his shelves. Some of them looked like they belonged in a museum; others looked like they belonged in a Rube Goldberg machine. The items seemed all the more outlandish because of how simple the other furnishings were- they were painfully out of place.

At first Jaune couldn't piece together a pattern for the items, but as he wondered just how long the Headmaster was going to make them wait, he saw it: timepieces.

There was a golden sundial by the window, which itself was cut into a perfect circle with twelve equidistant etchings on its edge. A disassembled alarm clock sat beside a Vacuan hourglass filled with blood red sand, dripping every second, in sync with a neighboring pendulum. A naval chronometer sat beside a silver pocket watch. And in the corner of the room was the pièce de ré·sis·tance: a black grandfather clock, taller than any man and made of wrought iron instead of wood, with its metallic innards exposed.

Jaune lost himself in the motion of the countless cogs, convoluted beyond belief, yet moving together in perfect step.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was a smack in the face of good engineering- not only did the clock seem nearly impossible to move ( Jaune would struggle to lift it) but it was far more complicated than it had to be. It was more like an art piece than a functioning instrument; its cogs caught the light in the room and twisted it into an ever changing tapestry with their motion, an image that was there yet… not. It might have been some sort of Rorschach test, but, looking at it, Jaune thought he could see a chain… no, it was more like a diadem-

Jaune was shook out of his musings by the sound of the school bell and the sharp intake of breath beside him.

While Jaune was taking in the scenery, Glynda sat ramrod straight. The tension had not left her body since her confrontation with Peach, and now it permeated the air around her, rolling off her form in waves. Her features were deathly calm, the kind of calm that only came before a storm. She too had been staring at the clock, but while Jaune had been drawn to its gears Miss Goodwitch was locked on the face. Her eyes were narrowing, and her lips were pursed thinner and thinner with every tick.

"Are you sure I'm not in any trouble?" Jaune asked, only half jokingly.

Glynda's eyes softened as they met the blue pair beside her. Her lips parted, and her posture went slack as she let out an exasperated sigh.

"...It's not you." She said gently, running a hand through her hair. "It's…" She hesitated.

"Peach?"

Her lips twinged upwards. "... Miss Peach."

"You don't like her."

Miss Goodwitch chose her next words carefully. " I think Miss Peach is a brilliant academic with a few bad ideas and a distressing lack of decorum. It's-" She bit her tongue for a moment, not sure if she should unload on her colleague in front of a student. Jaune was looking right at her, posture open, eyes twinkling in understanding. He knew she had more to say and was gently encouraging her to get the rest of it off her chest.

So she did.

"-It's bad enough that she runs her class like a madhouse, but the one time she gets her students to actually listen to hershe convinces half of them that free will is an illusion and that they should let their hormones run rampant." She should be having this conversation with the Headmaster, not Jaune, but it needed to be said… and he was a good listener. Besides, he had already seen everything, she could hardly undermine Miss Peach's authority any more than the poor fool had already done herself.

Jaune looked at her curiously. " Was anything she said wrong?" He asked.

Glynda pinched her temples. "It was… incomplete." she settled on. "And in any case the subject matter should have been handled with far more tact. It's one thing to cover sexuality, but sexualizing students as part of the lesson plan is completely out of bounds." Glynda flipped through the presentation on her phone. "Near the end of lecture, she was going to aggregate the student response data and present it to the class. The identities of the students would have been blocked out, thank the gods, but she was going to compare the distribution of perceived male and female attractiveness to data extracted from dating apps, to illustrate female selectivity, amongst other things." Glynda shook her head as she looked over the survey code. "It astonished me how much thought she put into this when it should have taken 10 seconds or less to realize how horrible of an idea it was."

Jaune hummed thoughtfully, keeping to himself that he would very much like to have seen that. "So, what did she miss?"

"Biology isn't my specialty." Glynda said. "But in physics there is also a case to be made for determinism. With a few basic equations and precise enough measurements, you can model everything from the motion of planets to the collision of atoms down to the micrometer. But, at the level of individual particles, that model collapses. Even the act of observing them alters their course, and the more precise our predictions, the less accurate they become. Of course, with a large enough number of particles, the probability that most of them will behave a certain way becomes far more concrete, but what holds in the aggregate fails for the individual.

"The same holds true for people. There are countless numbers of pet theories to predict our lives. Give a statistician the average income, IQ or social status of two classes of a hundred students, and they could make very firm predictions about average outcomes for those students in countless ways: marriage, career, imprisonment, life expectancy. Ask them to do the same for any one student, and the best they can manage is an educated guess. The more information they have the better their guess, but there's something that stays beyond their reach. It could be that because there are so many variables in play that the independent effect of one can only be observed in populations large enough to normalize for all other variables… or it could be an element of choice that can never quite be accounted for."

There was a strange quality in Glynda's voice- an intensity in her eyes, an eagerness in her tone that no amount of discipline could hide. It suddenly occurred to Jaune that this was something Glynda was extremely interested in and almost never got to talk about.

He liked seeing her happy.

"There's the philosophy major coming out."

Glynda blinked. "How did you-?"

Jaune looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "You have your diploma hung up right by your desk. B.A. and B.S. in Philosophy and Physics from Prism." He replied. "How could I have missed it?"

It was true of course, and standard policy at Beacon- partly to inspire the ambitions of the students and partly to promote networking. It was equally standard for students to ignore them completely until it was time to start begging for recommendation letters. That Jaune had cared enough not only to notice hers, but to remember it, was-

"Miss Goodwitch?"

She cleared her throat and attempted to remove the faint dusting of pink from her cheeks.

"Well, yes, I suppose you could say I have an interest in the subject." Glynda conceded. "Free will is one of the most contentious points in the field, and, naturally, one of the most important. Our entire ethical framework is predicated on choice: if a human being is nothing more than an automaton whose behavior is the product of forces beyond its control, then we can be no more good or evil than a hurricane or an earthquake."

Jaune looked at her curiously. "But a natural disaster can do a lot of damage, can't it? You aren't any less dead because a building didn't mean to collapse on you."

Glynda nodded patiently. "Perhaps. But then what is the difference between murder and manslaughter? Does it matter if the perpetrator did or didn't mean to kill? The victim is still dead."

Jaune hummed thoughtfully. "Well, if someone killed on purpose they're more likely to do it again."

"Not necessarily." Glynda countered. "Suppose the murder was a crime of passion, while the manslaughter was the result of drunk driving. There are plenty of repeat offenders and addicts who will be reckless with their lives and the lives of others, and some murderers who may never have reason to kill again."

Jaune remembered how close he had come to killing Sky. How easily his bones cracked… how satisfying that sound was.

'Sky was threatening Velvet and he deserved it, what was I supposed to do?' Jaune tried to block out all the other flashes of murderous rage that burned like fire in his chest whenever some vermin got on his nerves.

He couldn't escape it that easily. 'How many guys who hit on Ruby posed any threat to her?' Persona asked bitingly. 'Do they deserve to get beaten down? Does Oscar deserve it?'

'Yes.' Shadow thought.

Jaune wilted under his Shadow's savage glee and the Persona's merciless reproach. 'I didn't hurt Oscar!' He insisted.

'You wanted to.'

Glynda was watching him intently, and while she was pleased with how intently he was considering the question, she was troubled by the tumultuous emotion in his eyes. She couldn't understand it. Jaune gave no other cues- his features were an impenetrable wall and the tension in his body did not betray its cause.

The blond let out a tired sigh. "Maybe they'll do it again, and maybe they won't. But we don't just punish people to make them change- maybe we can't. We can minimize the damage, though. We build houses to code so they don't collapse in earthquakes, and we lock up criminals so they can't commit crimes, and to send a message to everyone else that they can't get away with committing the same crime."

Glynda looked at him with a satisfied smirk. "You've only pushed the problem back a step." She said. "If criminals can't choose what they do, why should potential criminals be able to choose not to become criminals?"

Jaune didn't miss a beat. "Maybe they aren't choosing so much as responding to different conditions; water doesn't choose its boiling point but it will freeze or melt or vaporize if you change the temperature."

"Who's changing the temperature, and why?" Glynda asked.

Jaune thought for a moment, before letting out a weak chuckle. "You got me."

Glynda couldn't fight back the grin growing on her face. "Any argument about what society should or shouldn't do presupposes alternatives and people who can choose between them. Otherwise, why worry about right or wrong at all? After all, people will do what they do no matter what, since no one chooses anything, so thinking about it is pointless. Thinking itself is pointless, since thought considers hypotheticals that can never exist and tries to shape choices that we don't actually make. Either we accept that everything is meaningless, good and evil don't matter and everything in the universe has been set in motion from the first fraction of a second to the last, or we accept the existence of choice and all the beauty and burdens that come with it."

"You're assuming with an either-or that we actually have a choice."

Glynda looked at her student with a mildly impressed smile. "Yes, I suppose I am." She confessed. "But the assumption of free will is embedded in almost every facet of our society. It's embedded in our legal system, where we consider intent and state of mind rather than just the consequences of an act. It's assumed in every dressing down we give another person for failing to live up to their potential- what is potential without the ability to make other choices than the ones they're making right now? It's assumed every time we talk to another person and do them the courtesy of believing that they can understand what we have to say and choose to listen. Free will is fundamental."

Jaune could have let it end there, but Ozpin was taking forever and Glynda was enjoying the verbal spar- hell, he was enjoying it too. "People used to think Gods were fundamental, too, only they could never agree on the names or number of Gods. They can't all be right, but they can all be wrong. Maybe we're all wrong about free will; 'fundamental' isn't the same as 'true'."

Glynda's eyes narrowed and her lips twitched- she was equally irritated and impressed. "Maybe so." She conceded. "But at the very least the idea is too important to dismiss out of hand. Unless we want to throw out the entire pretense of civilization in a single lecture."

"...You're really pissed about Peach's class, huh?"

Miss Goodwitch considered chastising Jaune for his choice of words, but decided against it. "...Extremely."

Jaune shook his head. "So right and wrong and our ability to choose between them is too important to ignore." He said.

"Yes." Glynda said.

"So, are 'right' and 'wrong' real categories, or are they simply matters of opinion? If they're real, why would anyone ever choose to be evil? If they aren't, why are our choices important at all? " Jaune asked.

Glynda grinned. "You're asking all the easy questions, aren't you?"

Jaune smirked back. "Well, you know what they say- difficult students are the most rewarding to teach."

Glynda rolled her eyes but couldn't remove the glimmer of affection from them. She fiddled with a loose curl as she considered the question.

"At the root of every moral system: what do you want to achieve? What you consider 'good' or 'bad' does depend on what values you hold, what goal you're trying to pursue. The collapse of a man's business might be ruinously bad for him but quite good for his competitor. Subjectivity of value is crucial to things like trade- you work for Mr. Branwen because his money is more valuable to you than your time, and he pays you because the opposite is true for him. Hypothetically there are an infinite number of values you could hold and since morality is derived from the pursuit of values each could internally be valid, making every possible action right and wrong and everything in between depending on who you asked.

"However, we do not live in a hypothetical world, but a real world with real limitations. There are not an infinite number of values that keep you alive, and keep your friends and family alive, and allow complex civilizations to form and prosper. A society that held rape, theft murder as its basic virtues would destroy itself within a week. So, every living person who wants to keep living has a basic, rigid moral standard that they share with all other people. The particulars and applications of that standard can be debated endlessly- its basic principle cannot."

"So… the ultimate good is to survive and prosper, and anyone that disagrees doesn't make it." Jaune said. "How is that any different from what Miss Peach said?"

"Because mere process of elimination is not how civilized people approach moral issues." Miss Goodwitch said. " Humans are able to think, to learn from our experiences and the experiences of others, to value the survival of others rather than just ourselves. Even our most basic drives, like hunger, come with a series of choices. If we only took into account the pressures of evolution, people would choose sweets over salad every time. In the wilderness you might not know where your next meal might come from, so you'd want it to be as energy dense as possible. But in a world where food is abundant, pursuing empty calories at all costs becomes suicidal, because the body simply can't process the neverending stream of sugar, even while it craves it. Human societies regulate sex because the natural pressures are incompatible with civilization: if men are constantly killing each other for mates or abandoning children they can't know are theirs, everyone is worse off. We don't merely inherit our genes from our ancestors, we inherit the hard won wisdom of millennia from millions of thinking people trying to solve the problem of human frailties. Over thousands of years, we've been able to learn new habits, temper our lusts, and sacrifice short term pleasure for a more happy and stable world in the long term. And Thumbelina decided it would be a good idea to discard all that effort and reduce a bunch of impressionable minds to their most primal impulses, encouraging them to uncritically indulge because 'how could they choose anything different?' It's monstrous!" Glynda's cheeks were red and she was gesticulating wildly. Jaune tried to ignore the way her breasts bounced as she moved, and failed miserably.

"But, why would anyone choose to be monstrous?" Jaune asked, hoping to keep her mind off his wandering eyes.

Glynda signed, trying to reign in her temper. "That might be the easiest question you've asked all day." She said. "Because it's easy."

Jaune arched an eyebrow. "But, if morality is based on survival, why would anyone choose to be bad?"

"Making the right choices is hard." Glynda said. "You constantly have to balance short term goals with future consequences, your desires with the rights of others. Most people stumble, and make mistakes. It's awful to recall all the ways you've fallen short, and hurt people, hurt yourself."

Jaune let out a tired sigh. "...Yeah."

"It's so much easier to renounce that. You're not responsible for anything, you can't control the world around you, you can't even control yourself, how could anyone hold anything you do against you? It gives you license to lie, cheat, steal, hurt, kill, because you aren't the cause of any of this, the world did this to you, that great, abominable existence that has brought you nothing but scorn and pain. You're off the hook, you merely are what you are… at the cost of everything you could be."

"But people don't control everything about themselves!" Jaune countered. " A lot of people are thrown into really shitty circumstances they didn't choose, we are aggressive, and lusty, and short sighted, and want things we know we shouldn't, and-" The Arc bit his tongue, fearing he had said too much.

"Language, Mr. Arc," she chided, without any bite.

'What's the matter?' Persona asked. 'Did she hit a little too close to home?'

'No.' Jaune thought. 'I'm not…'

'You're a sick fuck and you know it.' Persona said viciously. 'You get off on it. You humiliated Velvet, you practically raped Cinder, and I don't how you even speak to Ren after what you did to his mother.'

'They liked it.' Shadow shot back.

Jaune winced internally

Persona wasn't letting him off that easily. 'You hear that?' It said. 'That's you !' You try and pretend like it's someone else, but it's not ! What the fuck is wrong with you-'

"Jaune?" A voice asked tenderly.

Jaune looked up to meet Glynda's eyes. She had moved closer to him, gently tapping his arm to get his attention. She'd probably tried several times but he'd only just noticed.

"I'm sorry." He said listlessly. "It's just… well… there are a lot of things I don't like about myself, and I… what kind of monster am I if I chose that?"

Miss Goodwitch hummed thoughtfully. "The most dangerous lies are those with a grain of truth." She said.

Jaune frowned thoughtfully. "What are you talking about?"

"There are limits to free will, and there is a great deal beyond our choice. We can't control the circumstances of our birth, the vagaries of chance or the actions of others… And we can't change human nature." She sighed, deep in thought. "...But we can control our actions. That tiny spark of freedom is precious beyond measure. Even if we can only change the course of a life by a single degree, over long enough distances that can take us to a very different place. If we accept that power, treasure it, nurture it, we can become almost anything. If we don't, we reject our own existence, slowly destroying ourselves and those around us."

"To be or not to be, that is the question." Jaune mused idly.

Glynda didn't miss a beat.

"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep: perchance to dream-"

"Alright, alright I get it. You've read the play." Jaune said teasingly. "Show off."

Glynda crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a stern look… well, it would have been a stern look if she could have repressed the smirk on her face.

"I don't accept incomplete work." She teased. "And I certainly won't idly by while you butcher one of the greatest monologues ever put to pen by cutting it short."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "So, are you going to finish it?"

Glynda sighed. "No, I'm afraid you've sufficiently ruined the mood."

Glynda's good mood didn't fade for several minutes as the pair sat in silence. But eventually she found herself glancing at the clock once more. Her eyes kept darting back at the handsome blond by her side, who she definitely should not let herself check out. Jaune no longer seemed as troubled but he was quiet, deep in thought. Every now and again she almost felt his eyes on her, whenever she looked he was

'Where the hell is Ozpin?' She thought irritably. She stood up and walked towards the door, preparing to give his secretary a tongue lashing.

She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. She looked up and saw Jaune looking down at her warmly.

"...Thanks, Glynda." He said deeply. "I… needed to hear that."

The reflexive 'It's Miss Goodwitch' died in her throat, as Jaune literally took her breath away.

A million thoughts went through her mind. How wonderful her name sounded on Jaune's lips, how he towered over her even in her heels, the perfect body hidden under his clothes that haunted her dreams, the raw power in his hand, and how gentle it was, tracing soothing circles on her collarbone. How close their faces were, how if she pushed herself up just a little bit, she could-

Her heart was hammering against her ribcage as she looked into her student's eyes. What was scary about it was the motion was completely innocent. She saw nothing in his face but gratitude, admiration, relief. A friendly touch was enough to set her body on fire.

She unconsciously adjusted her posture to push her chest forward, giving Jaune a better view. The look in his eyes changed, a new kind of admiration mixing with the old. They raked over her figure unabashedly, hungrily.

"That's…good." Glynda said, voice higher and breathier than it should have been. "But, speaking of important discussions, I really ought to go find Ozpin."

Jaune could have held her in place if he wanted to, but his grip loosened as she moved away.

She was furious with herself. Sure Jaune was smart, and strong, and ridiculously good looking, but she was an adult! She should be able to be in the same room with the object of her affections without melting into a warm puddle. She caught herself swaying her step as she made her way to the door, and felt a stab of shame and pride as she felt Jaune ogling her rear.

She yanked open the door, desperate to get out of the room for a few minutes and get herself under control-

-The Headmaster was standing on the other side, reaching for the handle with a steaming hot mug of coffee.

Glynda glared daggers at him.

"Where have you been?" She whispered

Ozpin smiled disarmingly. "After that last minute call with Mr. Rivas, I needed a cup of coffee from the break room; you know how exhausting donors can be. Unfortunately, the machine was broken, and the coffee was extremely hot. I tried giving it a few minutes to cool, but even after popping an ice cube in, it-"

If looks could kill, Ozpin would be dead. As it was, Glynda used the last of her self control to stop herself from smacking the shit out of him.

The Headmaster sat down at his desk as Miss Goodwitch took her old seat, keeping her attention off Jaune."Mr. Arc." Ozpin said calmly.

The Headmaster had gray hair but an otherwise youthful appearance. He carried a cane with him at all times - "for sentimental reasons"- and was rarely seen without a cup of coffee. He was the youngest Headmaster in Beacon's history, yet carried himself with a mysterious air, often popping out of seemingly nowhere to catch students and staff unawares. His default expression was a kind, knowing smile.

"Do you know why we called you in?" Ozpin said.

Jaune let out an exasperated sigh. "I have no idea."

Ozpin chuckled for a moment, before his face became deadly serious.

"We're here to discuss your future at Beacon." Ozpin said. "It's no secret that you've been treading water academically, and after the sympathy for your family situation had faded several members of the board have made no secret of their desire to give your slot to a more… 'deserving'… candidate."

Beacon was one of the most prestigious schools in Vale. To be admitted, an applicant usually needed phenomenal grades, excellent extracurriculars, or generous family members. Jaune knew he had coasted in on the Arc family name and without it he was dead weight, but the reminder was painful. His friends were all here now; his life had been built around the accident that his application was processed before his 15th birthday.

"And I'm afraid to say that, after recent events, your place at Beacon is…"

Jaune held his breath.

"Perfectly safe for the time being." Ozpin said.

Jaune glared at the Headmaster, who had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Ozpin was brilliant, eccentric… and he was a massive troll.

"Oh, their push was certainly gaining steam for the last few months." The Headmaster continued. "But while your academic performance has been steadily declining, the sudden uptick has taken the wind out of their sales. Several of your teachers came to your defense when the topic was brought up at the last meaning- none more fervently than Miss Goodwitch."

Ozpin nodded over to the woman by Jaune's side, who blushed uncharacteristically.

"Gl-... Miss Goodwitch." Jaune said. "I… I don't know what to… thank you ."

Glynda looked down at her hands. "You don't need to thank me for telling the truth, Jaune." She said. "You belong here."

Jaune felt his throat tighten.

Ozpin broke the silence. "So long as you maintain your academic performance of the last two weeks, you should be able to remain at Beacon. However," He said. "that doesn't change the effect your rut has had on your cumulative GPA. Ordinarily, students at Beacon have their pick of the universities of Vale, and the few who need them receive scholarships, but that doesn't seem likely given your record. So, since your parents are unlikely to step in, Miss Goodwitch thought she and I ought to consult you about your options for the future."

Jaune's eyes darted over to Glynda again. She had taken two periods out of her day and tracked down another teacher to proctor her class for no other reason than to help him. Miss Goodwitch finally met his eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

"If price is an issue, I can help you apply for scholarships." Miss Goodwitch said. " There have to be some you're still eligible for. You could also start at a junior institution before transferring once you've gotten a solid academic footing, for a lower price. You're nearing the end of junior year, now's the time to start thinking about where

Jaune shook his head. "I… really appreciate the offer, but I honestly don't-"

"If I may cut in," Ozpin said. "there is a major opportunity you're overlooking." Both blonds looked at him. "Not all scholarships are academic. While your grades have been lackluster, your athletic performance is excellent."

"I'm not even on a team-" Jaune protested.

"Something that has caused me no shortage of headaches." Ozpin said wearily. "If I have to hear Couch Mulberry beg me to pressure you onto the Football squad again… well, he'd never forgive me if I didn't at least bring it up." Ozpin reached over and passed Jaune a copy of his fitness exams. "I don't need to tell you that you've passed every exam with flying colors." Ozpin said. "But you should know that the alternate physical exam was designed to be nearly impossible to pass. Acing it is almost unheard of. As it stands you could probably walk onto any athletic program in the school and be on the varsity squad before the end of the year. After that..." he trailed off. Beacon's Athletic Program was even stronger than its academics- if Jaune was a standout player there was a very good chance he'd get scouted, maybe even get a full ride.

"I get that." Jaune said wearily, having heard this line over a dozen times before. " But I can't stay for hours after school, I need to work."

"Mr. Branwen has cut your hours, hasn't he?" Ozpin said pointedly.

Jaune blinked. Ozpin and Qrow were on friendly terms, and they spoke regularly. "Did you put him up to that?" He asked angrily.

"If you work weekends you should have plenty of time for practice." Ozpin continued, ignoring him.

Jaune simmered. "Look, I need that money-"

"Fewer hours at minimum wage doesn't compare to the price of tuition, or the extra money you'd make out of school." Glynda cut in.

Jaune sighed. " I'm not even sure if I want to go to college."

The room went silent. Glynda's eyes widened.

Ozpin looked at him curiously. "That's an… unusual position for a student at Beacon."

That was an understatement. Beacon wasn't just a high school, it was an elite prep school- the top students had their pick of the best universities in the world, and people knew it, which is why they fought so hard to get their children in. A Beacon grad not going to college at all was almost unheard of.

"Mr. Arc," Glynda said sternly, once she regained her voice. "you have options."

"I know." Jaune shot back. "But I don't have any idea what I want to do after school, what I'd study or if I would even use a degree. It's a big commitment, and without my parents I'd be on the hook for it. 4 years and millions of lien is a big commitment to make with no game plan."

The truth was Jaune had put almost no thought into his future. He'd been so preoccupied with all the Arc bullshit and not losing control everyday that he'd never even considered it.

'So… college.' The Shadow chimed in. 'Big decision, huh? One one hand… more classes. On the other hand… more asses.'

Jaune sighed internally. 'Do you ever think about anything else?

'Sorority sluts and cute coeds might be worth the price of admission.' Shadow said.

'I'm already fucking Cinder and Amber, I get the appeal.' Jaune replied.

'But you're not thinking on the proper scale.' Shadow said. 'Imagine an entire sorority house full of Ambers- your own personal harem all in the same home. Do you know how much pussy you could be swimming in as a sports hero?'

'Probably as much as I could be swimming in now.'

'...Touché.'

"Mr. Arc."

Jaune shook himself and met Glynda's eyes again. They were calm, cold and impersonal.

"I understand that this is an important decision, and one that is yours to make." Glynda said. "But, by the Gods, it is going to be an informed one. I want a list of 10 prospective careers, your reasoning for picking them and their educational requirements on my desk by next Friday."

Jaune bristled at her tone. "You can't do that. It isn't part of cla-"

"-Consider it an extra credit assignment." Glynda shot back. "Except it's not optional."

"I don't need you hovering over me! You're not my mother!" Jaune yelled.

Glynda should have torn him a new one for raising his voice at her. Instead, her posture softened.

"...I know." She said, looking at him sadly. "But someone has to look out for you."

Jaune's anger evaporated. Glynda was an orphan; she knew what it was like. Hell, she had it worse than he did. And he had thrown her concern right in her face.

Ozpin cut in to break the tension. "Glynda, " he said meaningfully. "I think there's a career aptitude test somewhere in our files. It might help Mr. Arc complete your assignment."

"...Right." She said, rising to her feet quickly- too quickly. " Thank you, sir, I'll get it right away." Then she marched out of the room.

Jaune watched her go guiltily.

Ozpin watched his reaction with a poker face.

"...She cares for you a great deal." He said evenly.

Jaune felt even worse.

"She's not the only one." He continued. "You wouldn't believe how many calls I've had in the last month about your welfare. I know your family situation is far from ideal, and I'm sorry if I haven't been as helpful as I could have been- truth be told I wasn't sure there was anything I could do. There were too many variables, too many unanswered questions. But I do know that, no matter how abandoned you might feel at times, that there are people who care about you and want to help you."

"...I know." Jaune said thickly, burying his face in his hands. Ruby, Yang, Ren, Nora, Summer, Qrow, Clover, Glynda… even Tai, that bastard." They mean more to me than anything." He admitted. "I- I'm trying not to screw it up, but-" He choked up and cut himself off. Ozpin could not know how easily Jaune could fuck his friends up.

"Your life hasn't been easy." Ozpin agreed. "But you've struggled well. I can't promise things will turn out well- I'm far older than you and have made far many more mistakes- but that doesn't relieve you of the responsibility to try." He sighed. "I've tried ignoring problems before, running away from my weaknesses… it never ends well."

Jaune nodded.

"Before I came in, you and Glynda were discussing right and wrong and the value of life. I didn't take you for a philosopher." Ozpin said.

"We were bored." Jaune said absentmindedly. Then his eyes narrowed. "You were listening. You were spying on us."

"Outside the door." Ozpin confirmed, running a finger over the rim of his mug which was still steaming hot: it had to have been boiling when it came out of the machine. "I would have stepped in earlier, but-

Jaune's fists clenched. "You kept us waiting for half an hour!"

Ozpin grinned. "I was bored."

"You mother-" Jaune cut himself off.

"What were you going to say?" Ozpin asked, unperturbed.

Jaune pinched his temples. "Something that would get me suspended."

Ozpin chuckled. "Ever since I took this job people have walked on eggshells around me. I wouldn't mind hearing a candid opinion for once- consider it a freebie."

"You're a conniving cocksucker and a manipulative motherfucking voyeur piece of-"

"-Okay, point taken, pass revoked."

Jaune bit his tongue.

"Now, if you'd be willing to indulge a conniving, manipulative old man, I'd like to pick your brain about another philosophical problem, my personal favorite."

Jaune was in no mood to cooperate but had nothing better to do and had pushed his luck far enough as it was. "Shoot."

"Have you ever heard of the Flat Circle?"

Jaune blinked. "How is that any different from a regular circle? Wouldn't any 'circle' that wasn't flat be a sphere?"

Ozpin smiled. "It's metaphorical." He said. "A thought experiment of an esoteric thinker from Mantle, about time, the nature of reality and the character of man. It's fascinated me ever since I first heard it.

"Suppose you were immortal, and doomed to repeated every moment of your life, from your greatest triumph to your worst failure, over and over again, without escape for all of eternity. Every emotion, every frailty, every injury a man could possibly endure, you'd experience in a never ending wave of peaks and troughs."

"What's the point of this set up?"

Ozpin shook his head wryly. "That question is precisely the point. If you were put in that kind of situation, what would be the point of going on at all? The man who proposed it used it as a litmus test - the weaker, lower men of the world would collapse in despair at the thought of their pointless suffering being extended for all time, while the stronger, higher form of man would rejoice at the prospect and revel in the infinite succor of his own existence, in good times and bad. What would you do?"

Jaune hummed. There were certainly moments he'd be loathed to repeat- the pain of losing his family, the shame of losing control of himself… but there were so many others he'd treasure forever. Losing his family wouldn't have hurt nearly as much if they didn't love him for 15 years: story time with his sisters, family camping trips, home cooked meals from his Mom and piggy back rides from Dad. Late night sleepovers at the Xiao-Long Rose house, the Ren and Nora comedy hour, taking the piss out of Qrow, making Velvet giggle in the library, setting fireworks in the school hallway with Ruby and Yang, every rush of pleasure at seeing a babe in skimpy clothes… holding Ruby in his arms, seeing Yang's smile after cracking one of her worst puns… not to mention sex. He could make love to any of his girls for all time if given the chance.

"I… I think I'd like to live forever." Jaune said carefully. "Because while life sucks sometimes… the joys of life outshine any suffering that comes with them."

Ozpin nodded. "That's a good attitude to have. Not always the easiest to maintain, but necessary."

"The only issue is purpose." Jaune said. "If things loop forever, does that mean it's impossible to change, or grow?"

"Would you change your answer if it was?"

Jaune sighed. "Maybe. I don't think so, but… part of what makes life… life is progress. We have highs and lows, but ultimately we're moving towards something. Even if our goals change as we do, our actions have a purpose. Living without a purpose, without progress, it's almost the same as being dead."

Jaune was merely speaking academically, but Ozpin suddenly looked very tired.

"Professor?" He asked awkwardly. Ozpin smiled wanly as he stood.

"One of the things Barty might have taught you is how few things change over time. In every era of history you have the same kinds of people making the same kinds of mistakes. Even a human life is most circular- you eat and drink to stay alive, knowing that for all the effort of growing crops and drawing water you'll have to do the exact same thing all over again. Every day we push a boulder up a hill with all our strength only for it to tumble back down to the bottom by morning. And whenever we do achieve our goals, the first thing we do is set new ones. Some men have wondered, in a world like that, if life is even worth living.

"Still… there has been some progress. Maybe Humanity will never know true peace and unity, but things are far better now than they once were. Maybe the meaning of life is found in pursuing perfection, even knowing you'll never quite reach it, but with every millimeter of asymptotic progress making the whole thing worth it. Maybe the journey itself is the meaning, not the destination." He sighed. "Or maybe I'm just a tired old man rambling senselessly to a captive audience and trying to convince himself."

"You're not that old." Jaune said. Zoroaster Ozpin was, what, 42?

Ozpin smiled. "Thank you." He said. "So many of your peers look at me like I'm a senior citizen that I've started to believe it myself."

Glynda came back into the room, papers in hand. "I'd prefer a more recent offering; the most recent test we had on file is 20 years old."

Ozpin walked over to look at them. "As a general guideline it should be sound." He said, "Things haven't cha-"

Several things happened in a fraction of a section. Ozpin tripped, somehow, sending a stream of scalding hot coffee right into Jaune's face.

"AAAAH! WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Jaune clutched at the right side of his face- Gods, some of it had gotten in his eye.

"JAUNE!" Glynda cried, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine." Jaune said, pulling his jacket up to get the black tar off his face. It was mostly his fault anyway- his aura still wasn't properly trained and unreliable- he hadn't raised it to block the burn, and in the absence of life threatening attacks it wouldn't activate. He'd be able to heal in no time.

But not when Glynda was fussing over him.

"You're not fine, you're burned." Glynda said. "What the hell was Ozpin thinking?!"

"The machine was broken." Ozpin said, popping back in with a wet rag. Jaune took it gratefully and pressed it against his cheek. "Leave that on for 10-15 minutes." He said firmly. "It'll ease the pain."

Ozpin and Glynda decided to keep him there for that time. It would be too suspicious if he healed instantly in front of them.

"What did you even trip on?!" Glynda said accusingly.

"I stumbled." Ozpin said. "I must have been more tired than I thought."

"Well, it's a fine thing to risk blinding a student because you were tired!"

"I'm not blind." Jaune said. "I must have closed my eyelids before anything got in." That was a lie, he'd healed that injury with his aura as soon as he could because it hurt so damn much, but there was no way they could know that.

"Open your right eye and close your left." Glynda ordered. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two."

Glynda only looked slightly relieved. "If you having any problems seeing anything, go to the nurse immediately."

Jaune could have shrugged her off, but didn't push it. Glynda was only trying to help; it wasn't like he didn't enjoy her fawning over him. Her pulled the compress off and she ran a hesitating finger over his cheek. "Tell me to stop if it hurts." She said.

"Will do." Jaune said, wincing as she reached the main burn.

"If I may." Ozpin said, gesturing Glynda aside.

Goodwitch glared at him, but clumsy fool or not he was a trained doctor. Ozpin hummed as he looked over the wounds. "The burns are milder than I expected." He whispered.

Yeah, that was because before he had gotten a look Jaune's aura had already started healing some of them automatically- just because he couldn't flash heal didn't mean he could take the edge off.

But something about the way Ozpin said that threw him off.

'Why was the coffee so hot?'

No matter what the temperature had been when the machine spat it out, it had been exposed to the open air for a long time, maybe more than a half hour if Oz had been spying on them the entire time. It had to have cooled somewhat since then.

'Cinder can heat things up by touching them.'

'You're being paranoid, that's Cinder's blessing. Even if Ozpin could use aura, he wouldn't have the exact same power.'

'Do you know that for sure? You've known about your own aura for a few weeks, do you really think you know how it works? What if he has a different power that does the same thing as hers? What if he's able to free wield fire dust? What if, what if, what if?'

It wasn't paranoia when everyone was actually out to get you. Someone wanted people like him dead.

How did Ozpin trip over his own feet when he was a fit, spry and healthy man? How did the stream just happen to hit Jaune? How was it so much hotter than it should have been?

…Ozpin had access to all of his records, including his physical. Ozpin knew about his family history. Ozpin was constantly being reminded about how absurdly powerful Jaune's body was by irate coaches. Ozpin had been in a position to watch him from the shadows for nearly 3 years. If anyone could have found his trail it was him.

While Glynda's eyes had been brimming with concern, Ozpin's were filled with simple curiosity. For a doctor, the Headmaster was handling Jaune's wounds rather clumsily, sending lances of pain through his face as he poked and prodded at them… almost like he was trying to get a reaction.

What better way was there to reveal an aura user than forcing their powers to the surface?

'Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.'

There was a 99% chance that he was paranoid and a 1% chance that Ozpin had engineered this entire situation to smoke him out. Either way he could risk it: after weeks of trying to bring his aura to the surface it took every ounce of concentration to force it down.

After a few minutes, Ozpin seemed satisfied. "Looks like a fairly mild 1st degree burn." He said calmly. "It should mostly disappear over the weekend."

"Thanks." Jaune said tersely. "Can I go now?"

"Of course." Professor Ozpin said.

"...I'll bring you the papers later." Glynda said. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine."

"...Be careful."

"I will." He promised, looking at Glynda by thinking of Ozpin.

As soon as he was out of sight of the office his aura kicked in and his wound disappeared in an instant.

'Well, that's going to raise some questions if anyone sees it.' Jaune thought bitterly. Glynda would probably pop by the Gym in a few hours to check in on him, and tell her friends, who would tell their kids. Ozpin might even ask after him with Qrow, under the guise of a kindly Headmaster worried about a wronged student. He was thankful there weren't any cameras in Beacon, but he'd have to wear a false bandage for the next few days to be safe, and he'd have to stay the hell away from the Headmaster. He couldn't be seen by anyone before he left-

"Hey." A voice called confidently.

Jaune turned to find another student staring him down and strutting over from across the hall.

It was Coco Adel, the beautiful fashionista who he'd never said more than two sentences to, but who was looking at him like the cat that had just caught the canary. Before he knew it she was right on top of him.

"Jaune Arc." she drawled, cocking her sunglasses. "Just the man I was looking for."