Seeing Nora and Ren like this made him unable to bring out the complaints.
"Nora," he called softly, stepping closer. "Nora, Let me help."
Nora looked up, her tear-streaked face filled with desperation and hope. "Jaune!? Please, he needs help. He's losing so much blood. I don't know what to do."
Jaune knelt beside them, quickly assessing Ren's injuries. The wound was severe, and they needed to stop the bleeding immediately. He focused, letting his aura flow through his hands as he applied pressure to the wound. Scraping every bit of aura, amplifying his aura to its peak, boosting his Semblance until Jaune felt his vessel, his body filled to the brim.
"Stay with us, Ren," Jaune said firmly, his voice steady. "We're not losing you."
As he worked, Jaune's mind raced. They needed to get Ren to safety, but with the Grimm still rampant, it wouldn't be easy. He glanced at Nora, who was clutching Ren's hand, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Nora, we need to move him," Jaune said gently. "We have to get back to the city and find medical help. My Semblance can heal him, but I can't produce the blood he lost. Can you guard us? I will keep my Semblance focus on him. Smash every damn Grimm that comes"
Nora nodded, wiping her eyes, her determination returning. "Yes, I can. Just tell me what to do… but the Nuc—"
"I already butchered the son of a bitch," Jaune said coldly, cutting her off. "Let's go!"
Jaune lifted Ren carefully. With the wound closed, he could focus on healing Ren's innards. Jaune led the way back through the forest, moving as quickly and smoothly as possible.
"Hang in there, Ren," Jaune murmured, his voice filled with resolve. "We're almost there. Just hold on a little longer."
As they made their way back to the city, Jaune's aura pulsed brightly as he heals and boosts Ren and Nora's aura simultaneously.
Jaune called for Winter through his earpiece, his voice urgent. "Miss Winter, I need some help. My Semblance is keeping my friend alive, but he can't fight right now. I need an airship to get some help."
Winter replied, but Jaune could hear explosions in the background and in the distance. "Jaune, I cannot risk any airships right now. The White Fang is attacking the city and assaulting Haven."
"Then please send to Mistral's clinic if you can!"
Jaune clicked his tongue in frustration. He turned and saw Nora smashing a Grimm's head into a pulp, her aura amplified to the point she was sending Grimm flying.
"Nora," Jaune called out, his voice carrying a commanding tone that offered no refusal. "We need to get to the city's medical clinic. Let's move!"
Nora nodded, her eyes fierce with determination. "Got it, Jaune. Lead the way!"
Fear and chaos swarmed Grimm towards Mistral as they made their way. Jaune had to join in the fight, carrying Ren on his left shoulder while wielding Crocea Mors with his right, fending off the Grimm that Nora couldn't stop in time.
"Stay close!" Jaune shouted, his blade cleaving through a Beowolf as it lunged at them. "We're almost there!"
Nora smashed through a group of Creeps, her hammer swinging with relentless fury. "I've got your back, Jaune!"
They fought their way through the streets, the city around them a battleground. Explosions and screams echoed through the air, but Jaune's focus remained on getting Ren to safety. His aura pulsed with each step, healing and boosting his friends.
As they approached the medical clinic, Jaune's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and hope. "Just a little further, Ren," he murmured, his grip tightening on his sword. "We're almost there."
They reached the clinic, its doors miraculously intact amidst the chaos. Jaune pushed the door open, shouting for help. Medical staff rushed to their aid, taking Ren from Jaune's arms and placing him on a stretcher. With a last surge of amplification, he let them take Ren.
Jaune turned to Nora, his resolve unwavering. "We did it. Now we need to make sure this place stays safe."
Nora nodded, her eyes steely. "What's the plan?"
Jaune gripped Crocea Mors, his aura flaring once more to life. "We protect this clinic and everyone in it. No Grimm gets through. Not on our watch. Prioritize the civilians."
Jaune was worried about what was happening at Haven, but he had no time to dwell on it. The people in the clinic needed help. He turned to Nora. "Nora, any White Fang that comes in here… smash their legs."
Nora nodded, a fierce determination in her eyes. There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask, but she wasn't in the mood. Just a few seconds ago, she had almost lost Ren, and now she wasn't letting anything hurt her partner. The questions could come later.
Jaune turned around and addressed the people in the clinic, his voice calm but authoritative. "Everyone, stay put and stay calm. We're here to protect you," Jaune showed his huntsman's license.
The fear and uncertainty in the room were noticeable, but Jaune's presence and words brought a semblance of reassurance. He could see the anxiety in the eyes of the patients and staff, but there was also a glimmer of hope.
He moved to the front entrance, positioning himself beside Nora. They both knew the Grimm and White Fang would not stop their assault just because they were in a clinic.
"Keep an eye out," Jaune said to Nora, his grip tightening on Crocea Mors. "We need to be ready for anything."
Nora nodded, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "I'm ready, Jaune. Nothing's getting past us."
Minutes felt like hours as they stood guard, the distant sounds of combat echoing through the streets. Jaune's mind raced, trying to formulate a plan for both defense and evacuation if it came to that. His aura was depleted from healing Ren, but although he felt like his body was aching. He couldn't allow himself to rest and thus he breathed in the aura back to full.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a group of White Fang operatives stormed in, weapons drawn. Jaune and Nora sprang into action immediately.
"Nora, now!" Jaune shouted, charging at the nearest enemy.
Nora's hammer swung with brutal force, taking down two operatives with a single blow. She moved with a ferocity that matched her determination, ensuring that anyone who tried to breach their defenses regretted it instantly.
Jaune engaged another operative, his sword clashing against a blade. He parried and struck back with precision, disarming his opponent and incapacitating him with a swift blow. His movements were fueled by a mix of adrenaline and unwavering resolve.
Within moments, the skirmish was over. The White Fang operatives lay incapacitated, their threat neutralized.
"Stay vigilant," Jaune said, his voice steady despite the fatigue.
Hours passed as Jaune and Nora stood their ground, protecting the clinic from any threat. Whether it was Grimm or the White Fang, no one could get through. If it wasn't for Nora's hammer, it would be the flat of Crocea Mors' blade they'd be seeing before they get knocked out cold.
As the afternoon wore on, Jaune told Nora to guard the inside while he stood outside, keeping an eye out for any Grimm. He met them head-on, refusing to rest, dashing towards targets and stabbing them repeatedly or thrusting his sword into the ground, causing shockwaves that damaged nearby enemies trying to overpower him.
Jaune fought relentlessly, his body moving with pure instinct and determination. He couldn't hear any voices in his head. But it felt awful having someone's memories he'd rather not have. The afteran's memories were burdensome, but even if the voices in his head scolded him, he couldn't just stand by and let anything hurt anyone inside.
"Don't think, just wield me," Crocea Mors sounded.
He pushed through the exhaustion, his aura flickering but never extinguishing. Each swing of his sword, each thrust into the ground, was fueled by his unwavering resolve to protect. His body screamed for rest, but he ignored it, focusing solely on the task at hand.
"We can rest when we're dead, knight," the knight's voice chimed in.
The yellow tie's voice added. "Don't you dare feel any rush about this! We're simply having a conscience."
As the sun began to set, casting a reddish hue over the city, Jaune took a moment to catch his breath. The streets were littered with the remnants of battle, but so far, he had kept the clinic safe. He glanced back at the entrance, seeing Nora standing vigilant inside, her eyes sharp and ready for any sign of trouble.
"Jaune, are you okay?" Nora called out, her voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine, Nora," Jaune replied, though his voice was strained. "Just keeping watch."
Nora's eyes softened for a moment, understanding the toll the battle had taken on him. "You need to rest too, Jaune."
Jaune nodded, appreciating her concern, but knowing he couldn't stop yet. "I'll rest when it's safe. We need to hold out a bit longer."
As the last light of day faded, Jaune continued his vigil. Each Grimm that approached met the edge of his blade, each White Fang operative that dared to attack was swiftly dealt with. His mind was a whirlwind of memories and sorrow, but he remained steadfast.
No, he was simply distracting himself while the memories surged in. The rusted knight's memories, the Afteran, slowly creeping into his brain.
"Don't be afraid, we'd still be Jaune Arc in the end," the rusty voice said calmly. "Just… a bit more experienced… that's all."
Finally, as night truly fell, and the city quieted, the relentless waves of enemies slowed. Jaune allowed himself a moment to lean against the wall, his body heavy with fatigue as Jaune then saw airships flying Atlas colors, landing near the clinic.
The heavily injured were transported immediately, while the rest were ushered into the airships until they were packed to the brim.
Nora pushed Ren's stretcher and entered the ramp, with Jaune close behind. They boarded one of the airships, their relief visible but their vigilance unbroken.
The airship made its way to Winter's private ship, landing smoothly in the bay. As soon as the ramps opened, Nora followed the medical staff, ensuring she stayed by Ren's side as they wheeled him into the medical bay for further treatment.
Jaune hurried to the command center, ignoring the spots of blood tainting his overcoat and shoes. He pushed through the exhaustion and the lingering adrenaline, knowing he needed to get updates on the situation at Haven and learn whatever it was going's on.
The command center was a flurry of activity. Atlas soldiers and officers were busy monitoring the situation, communicating with various units, and strategizing the defense of the city. Winter Schnee stood at the center, directing operations with her usual composed authority as she coordinated with Mistral authorities..
"Jaune," Winter acknowledged as he approached, her eyes briefly flicking to the bloodstains on his clothes. "I'm glad to see you're still standing."
"Barely," Jaune replied, his voice heavy with fatigue. "But we managed to keep the clinic safe. How's the situation at Haven?"
Winter's expression hardened. "It's dire. The White Fang's assault is more coordinated than we had anticipated, and the Grimm is taking advantage of the chaos. We're doing everything we can to hold the line, but we need every capable fighter."
Jaune nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "What can I do to help?"
Winter looked at him. "For now, rest and regroup. We have teams securing the perimeter and evacuating civilians. Haven's already pushing back the White Fang and we had help from Vale Huntsmen, who were nearby. You've done more than enough for now. I'll call on you when we have a plan in place."
Jaune wanted to protest, to insist he could keep fighting, but he knew Winter was right. He was exhausted, and pushing himself further could do more harm than good. "Alright," he said reluctantly. "But as soon as you need me, I'm ready."
Winter gave a curt nod. "Understood. Get some rest, Jaune."
He turned to leave, heading towards the medical bay to check on Ren and Nora. As he walked through the bustling corridors of the airship, he couldn't help but feel like he had missed something, and that perhaps he had been too negligent.
"What are you on about?" the yellow tie's voice tightened around his neck. "You're just a Mediator with a bought Huntsman license. What can you do? You're not like Ozma, who's a lying control freak. Don't be like him. Never like him."
Reaching the medical bay, Jaune found Nora sitting beside Ren, who was receiving treatment. She looked up as he entered, a mixture of relief and exhaustion in her eyes.
"Hey," Jaune said softly, approaching them. "How's he doing?"
"The doctors say he's stable thanks to you," Nora replied, her voice tinged with both worry and hope. "He's going to be okay."
Jaune let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "That's good to hear."
"No, thanks to you for closing a hole in Renny… I thought would lose him… I… if you didn't…" Nora shuddered as she gave him a small, tired smile. "What about you? You look like you're running on fumes."
Jaune chuckled weakly. "I'm fine. Miss Winter told me to rest, so I guess I don't have a choice."
Nora nodded, her expression softening. "Jaune I… thank you."
Jaune could tell Nora had a lot to say about what happened at Beacon, but he didn't open that wound. He knew they had passed through their own efforts and had every right to be angry about him cheating his way into Beacon. And honestly, it had been too long, and the memories made him feel like he hadn't seen them for decades.
"What did you expect?" the rusty voice said with sorrow. "Beacon… crossing continents to help Ruby was simply just a small three years of my life… and was nothing compared to the time I spent in the Everafter… it's a fraction… a beautiful and tragic memory at best. I've lived longer in the Everafter than I have in Remnant…"
"Nora," Jaune began softly, "I know there's a lot we haven't talked about. But right now, I hope you two keep safe."
Nora nodded, understanding in her eyes.
Jaune then left.
He could feel the Afteran's influence gripping tightly into his mind, body, and soul.
With a sigh, Jaune placed Crocea Mors gently against the wall and sank onto the bed, his body sinking into the mattress. The moment he was alone, the voices surged in, a cacophony of thoughts and memories he couldn't silence.
A well-informed voice surfaced first, its tone analytical and probing. "The Breach… how did it happen? And how did the White Fang get involved so deeply?"
Before Jaune could ponder the question, another voice, harsh and biting, cut in. The voice of the yellow tie, tightening around Jaune like a noose. "It's obvious. They did it to scare the people. Well, they did fucking well because after this, there's nothing left to negotiate. All the dead, the destruction, and the Grimm roaming around will be a pain in the ass."
Jaune clenched his fists, the weight of the words pressing down on him. The yellow tie's voice was always brutal, never sugarcoating the grim reality of their situation. He knew it was right, the devastation was immense, and the road to recovery would be long and arduous.
Then, a curious voice chimed in, its tone lighter but no less insistent. "We should have followed the yellow button," it mused, as if the solution was that simple.
Jaune rubbed his temples, trying to push the voices back. "Enough," he muttered to himself. "I can't deal with this right now."
But the voices wouldn't relent. They never did. They were a part of him, fragments of his consciousness that questioned, critiqued, and second-guessed every decision he made. Information he could rely on when they aren't being an annoyance to him.
"The Breach…" he whispered, echoing the well-informed voice's question. "How did it happen?"
He replayed the events in his mind, searching for answers. The White Fang's involvement was no surprise — they had always been a thorn in their side—but the timing and scale of the attack were unprecedented. It felt too coordinated, too precise, but also hasty, as if pushing the schedule. Someone had orchestrated this chaos, but who?
Jaune's thoughts were interrupted by the yellow tie's voice again, its harshness cutting through his contemplation. "Who else could do this attack other than human-hating fucking animal? You saw the memories before."
"A black cat is being lured by a chameleon," the voice began, each word sending shivers through Jaune. "The chameleon tries to give the black cat a chance to redeem herself and join the right side."
Jaune's breath caught in his throat as the voice continued, the imagery vivid in his mind.
"The black cat refuses, but learns from the chameleon about their plans. She tries to strike, but the bull learns that the black cat is near a snowflake. Enraged, the bull decides to strike at a Haven, searching for a lamp that only a raven can open."
Jaune exited his cabin, navigating through the bustling corridors of the airship, he made his way to the command center where Winter Schnee was overseeing operations.
"Miss Winter," Jaune called as he approached her, his tone urgent yet professional. "Can we contact the Headmaster of Haven Academy?"
Winter turned to face him, her expression serious. "No. But we've been permitted to land at Haven to get the assistance of the students and defend the Academy," she replied. "We can't leave the civilians in the wilds and the flight back to Argus or any city is too dangerous with the Grimm surrounding the city."
Jaune nodded, absorbing the information. "What's the plan? What are our next steps?"
Winter's composed demeanor wavered slightly as she exhaled, her frustration clear. "The situation is a mess, Jaune. I'm at a loss as well. Menagerie has only issued a condemnation of the White Fang's attack. They claim no involvement, but the current White Fang is too well-armed, equipped with reverse-engineered Atlas technology. It's clear they've been preparing for this for a long time. But thankfully… they had been pushed back by the effort of the staff and students… as for the death toll… I can't imagine. Haven… has fallen."
Jaune's mind raced, trying to piece together a strategy. Before he could speak, the cynical voice of the yellow tie surfaced, dripping with scorn. "All our efforts in those meetings, all the diplomacy — it was for nothing. The dead are screaming at us for our negligence."
Jaune ignored the voice as Winter's airship broke through the clouds and began its descent toward Haven Academy. He turned to Winter, resolve etched on his face. "I'll clear a path," he said, gripping Crocea Mors tightly.
Winter nodded, her expression always calm. "Be careful, Jaune."
Jaune nodded as he moved swiftly to the airship's bay, his mind focused on the task at hand. As the hatch opened, he leaped down, thrusting the tip of Crocea Mors into the ground like an energized meteor. The impact created a powerful shockwave that shattered the tide of Grimm below, sending them sprawling.
A pack of Beowolves approached, but Jaune had no time to spare. With his aura infused into each slash, he moved with precision and speed, cutting through the Grimm with relentless efficiency. He cleared the landing zone, ensuring the area was safe for the incoming Atlas soldiers.
As the soldiers began to secure the perimeter, Winter's voice crackled through Jaune's earpiece. "Jaune, check the CCT towers. We need to ensure our communications are secure."
The quad at Haven Academy sprawled out before Jaune as he made his way through the campus. The expansive space was framed by dense forests. At the center of the quad stood a fountain, surrounded by lush shrubbery and wooden benches.
Along the perimeter of the quad, broken lamp posts stood sentinel. Beyond the trees, Jaune saw the twin Cross Continental Transmit towers of the Kingdom of Mistral loomed tall.
"Haven Academy features two identical CCT Towers on its campus," a well-informed voice informed said as he approached the nearest tower. "Shorter and stockier than the Vale tower, with a wide base and two levels, supported by four red flying buttresses. We should be able to troubleshoot any terminals… if some are salvageable."
"Our training with the Ace-Ops is still in my head," the rusty voice said. "We can do this. Just do what I say."
Jaune entered the first CCT tower, his heart sinking at the sight of the carnage. The bodies of staff and students lay scattered, and most of the equipment was destroyed. Further inside, it was clear the bombs had been rigged and detonated, leaving a scene of devastation.
Taking a deep breath, Jaune activated his earpiece. "Miss Winter, it's Arc. The first CCT tower is compromised. There are dead everywhere, and the equipment is destroyed. It looks like they rigged dust bombs and detonated them."
"They are also the same bombs they use in the train," the curious voice noticed.
"And from what I can tell, they used the same bombs as well," Jaune added.
There was a brief pause before Winter responded, her voice steady despite the grim news. "Understood, Jaune. Check the second tower. We need at least one operational CCT for coordination."
Jaune nodded to himself, making his way to the second tower with a renewed sense of urgency. As he entered, he found a similar scene — destruction and death but this time, some of the equipment seemed salvageable.
He quickly assessed the situation, moving debris and checking the terminals. "Winter, the second tower is damaged, but some equipment is still operational. I'll see if I can get it running."
"Good work, Jaune. Do what you can," Winter replied, her voice filled with a mix of relief and determination.
Jaune set to work, using his rudimentary technical skills and the know-how he got from the Afteran's memories to piece together a functional communication system. Minutes felt like hours as he worked, but finally, a flicker of life returned to the screens.
"Miss Winter, I've managed to get some of the equipment running, although temporary. We should have limited communication capabilities," Jaune reported, his tone that of a consummate professional, despite the surrounding chaos.
"Excellent, Jaune. Hold the position and we'll send a team to assist you," Winter responded, the sound of the airship landing in the background. "The engineers will take over."
Jaune took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes scanning the destroyed tower. As the Atlas soldiers arrived to fortify the position, Jaune left the tower to the team that took over.
"Why are we working like this?" it pondered. "We're a mediator, not a Huntsman. Our role is to negotiate, not fight."
The knight's voice, steadfast and righteous, countered immediately. "What we're doing is right. We must protect Haven and its people at all costs. That's what a true Knight does."
"Besides, we're dealing with people," a voice said. "Just not with words."
But the yellow tie's voice disapproved, its cynicism clear. "We should stick to our roles. We're not equipped for this kind of battle. You wore me because it's what Saph gave us when we started a new life! But where are we now!? Doing Huntsman things! So much for the life you promised your sister!"
As Jaune entered the Grand Hall of Haven Academy, the sight that greeted him was one of devastation. The spacious building bore the scars of battle. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burnt debris, and the once vibrant colors of green and brown were marred by charred marks and scorch stains.
His eyes swept over the interior, taking in the damage. A statue of a woman, once a focal point of pride, stood with its features obscured by soot and ash. The upper walkway, accessible by flanking stairways near the hall's entrance, loomed overhead, casting shadows on the scene below.
The walls, adorned with various paintings and blue banners bearing Mistral's symbol, now bore the marks of violence. Soot and debris clung to the surfaces, marring the once pristine artwork.
Jaune made his way through the hall, his footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Trophy cases, once filled with mementos of achievement, stood empty or shattered, their contents scattered across the floor.
It was clear a fierce battle had taken place here. Scorch marks covered the walls, and remnants of fire burned in scattered patches throughout the hall.
Jaune then paused, taking a cautious whiff of the air. It wasn't the acrid smell of natural fire or ignited dust. It was something else entirely. Before he could process it, the well-informed voice chimed in with a deduction.
"That's not dust you're smelling," it stated matter-of-factly. "And it's not a natural fire either. It must be the aftermath of some Semblance."
Jaune's brow furrowed in thought as he considered the implications. Semblances were unique abilities possessed by Huntsmen and Huntresses, and they could vary in their effects and applications. Whatever had caused the destruction in the Grand Hall was no ordinary fire.
Then, the curious voice interjected, drawing Jaune's attention to the spent dust cartridges scattered across the floor. He followed its guidance, examining the scars of scythes, blades, and fists etched into the ground.
As Jaune scanned the aftermath of the battle, his gaze then fell upon a peculiar sight — a special Grimm glove, clearly crushed beneath by a boot. Before he could fully comprehend its significance, the curious voice in his mind drew his attention to it.
"What's this?" the voice mused, its tone tinged with curiosity. Jaune approached cautiously, studying the glove with furrowed brows. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, its design ominous and foreboding.
Then, without warning, the rusty voice erupted with fury. "It belongs to Cinder Fall…" it growled, the name dripping with disdain and anger. "Why is she alive when Beacon's not fallen!? Oz should have murdered her!"
Jaune's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name. He didn't know her personally, nor he had met her. But judging by how furious the rusty voice was and how much pain and suffering the woman caused in the memories he was receiving from the Afteran.
She was bad news.
Then the realization hit him like a physical blow. If this Cinder Fall had been present at Haven Academy, then this battle was far more than a mere skirmish. It was a direct assault orchestrated by one of the most dangerous individuals in Remnant.
The rusty voice, its tone edged with grim determination, deduced the implications of Cinder Fall's presence at Haven Academy. "Considering she's alive here and didn't get killed by Cinder and probably doing Oz's bidding, then that means Cinder's still after the Fall Maiden powers and also the relic, too."
Jaune's heart sank at the realization.
The voice continued, its analysis cutting through the tension like a blade. "There was only a trace of two maidens here… probably her and Raven," it observed, its tone grave. "And the burns were caused by Cinder's Semblance. But there's no indication she was using the maiden's powers. How the hell did they wrestle away the half of fall maiden's powers from Cinder? Is it Ozpin's magic?"
Jaune absorbed the information, his mind racing with the implications.
As Jaune entered the waiting room outside of Headmaster Lionheart's office, he was met with a scene of disarray. The space, with its black leather couches and warm autumn colors, bore the marks of violence and chaos.
The door to Lionheart's office revealed only the aftermath of a fierce struggle. The office itself was shaped like a half-circle, with a smaller half-circle jutting out toward the front door. A large desk made of wood dominated the space, its surface littered with papers and debris. In the corner, a small table and chairs offered a more comfortable setting for guests, but they lay overturned and broken.
To the right of the front door, Jaune noticed a wall containing a secret passage, leading to a small chamber where a Seer was still floating, watching, but it didn't seem to notice him.
"That's the thing the Headmaster must have been using to facilitate communication between him and Salem," the well-informed voice said. "Get some evidence, now."
Jaune took his scroll out and took a footage of it before striking it down. He then continued looking around.
He saw two tall bookshelves flanked the door, their contents scattered and strewn across the floor. The far wall was lined with a single shelf, filled with books, boxes, and lamps, while ladders provided access to the higher shelves. A rectangular green rug led from the door to the desk, but it was stained with blood and torn in places.
In the center of the ceiling hung a chandelier, its four lights casting a dim glow over the room. But it was the fallen form near the bookshelves that caught Jaune's attention — the torn back of Headmaster Lionheart lay motionless on the ground.
Jaune's hands retrieved the Scroll from the Headmaster's pocket. With a swift motion, he activated the device and quickly gained access to Headmaster Lionheart's files on his work terminal.
As the screen flickered to life, he followed the voices, and Jaune's eyes widened in shock at the incriminating data laid bare before him. The list of Huntsmen killed in the name of this Salem sent a shiver down his spine. It was a calculated effort to reduce the Huntsmen population of Mistral, weakening their defenses and striking fear into the hearts of those who stood against them.
But it was the revelation about the assault on Haven that sent a surge of anger coursing through Jaune's veins. The attack had been coordinated to steal the lamp under the guise of a White Fang assault.
"It shouldn't have started this early," the curious voice noticed. "It seems they attacked earlier than scheduled. I wonder who caused their hasty assault?"
As Jaune scrolled through the data, his mind reeling with the implications. The betrayal ran deep, and the consequences were dire. Innocent lives had been lost, and the city of Mistral was burning from this coward's actions.
"We should have gutted this bastard when we arrived in this city," the rusty voice said.
Jaune wasted no time in contacting Winter, his fingers flying across the interface of his Scroll as he initiated the transfer of the incriminating data. As the files began to transfer, Winter's confusion was clear in her voice, but it quickly turned cold as she processed the information being sent to her.
"Jaune, what's the meaning of this?" Winter's tone was sharp, her words laced with an undercurrent of concern and suspicion.
"It's evidence," Jaune replied firmly, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. "Evidence of the atrocities committed in the name of this Salem, evidence of the betrayal the people of Mistral have suffered."
Winter's silence spoke volumes, her thoughts racing as she processed the implications of the data before her. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice now icy and calculated.
"Retrieve the data, Jaune," Winter advised, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We can't risk it falling into the wrong hands or being tampered with. Bring it to me directly, and we'll assess our next steps."
Jaune nodded, although they already have a copy. He knew the importance of securing the source and ensuring its safekeeping. With a quick affirmation, he ended the call and set to work retrieving the data from Lionheart's terminal.
Jaune them made his way to the statue that concealed the entrance to the hidden elevator. Gripping the crack of the stone with his bare hands, he exerted all his strength, muscles straining as he tore the entrance open.
The stone gave way, revealing the concealed elevator shaft beneath. Without hesitation, Jaune descended into the depths below, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.
As he reached the bottom, Jaune's heart sank at the sight before him. The vault lay in ruins. The aftermath of the battle had taken its toll, leaving destruction in its wake.
The vault itself was a large cave beneath the school, its walls lined with ancient symbols and intricate carvings. But now, much of it lay in ruins, rubble strewn across the floor.
Jaune's eyes fell upon the circles on the ground, which were dim and faded. Jaune approached the doorway to the Relic chamber. The entrance was unlocked without signs of the security measures that should have been in place.
Then someone already took it.
Stepping through the doorway, Jaune found himself in another dimension, a vast desert stretching out before him. In the distance, a path led to where the Relic of Knowledge should have rested on its stone pedestal.
But the pedestal was empty.
"There's nothing left for us here, Jaune," the curious voice said. "But… I wonder which relic will be targeted next? Is it Vale? Is it Vacuo? Or will they come for Atlas?"
"I need to thin," Jaune muttered.
Jaune then left the vault with a heavy heart, the weight of the evidence he carried pressing down on him. He knew the significance of what he had found, and the urgency of ensuring it reached the right hands was paramount. Making his way back to the airship, he stepped into the command center to find a tense scene unfolding before him.
Winter was engaged in a cold argument with a black-haired man wearing a cape — Qrow Branwen.
"We need an airship immediately to Vale," Qrow demanded, his voice urgent. "There's something that Ozpin wants and needs to be secured immediately."
Winter's response was icy and unyielding. "We have none to spare, Qrow. Not my forces and not Mistral either. If you want my cooperation, you'll give me answers. And do you really expect me to just hand over resources that we need when the White Fang's still around?"
Jaune approached, feeling the weight of the evidence in his hands. "Miss Winter," he began, interrupting them, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I need to report what I saw in the Academy."
Both Winter and Qrow turned their attention to him. Winter's eyes were sharp, but it was Qrow's glare that pierced through Jaune, assessing him with a serious intensity.
Ignoring Qrow's gaze, Jaune continued, "Headmaster Lionheart betrayed us. The assault on Haven was a coordinated effort to steal something from the vault below the Academy."
Qrow's expression darkened, and his voice took on a serious tone as he looked at what Jaune was carrying and demanded for it. "Hand that over, kid. This isn't your business."
Jaune met Qrow's eyes. "No," he replied firmly.
Qrow grinned, a dangerous edge to his smile. "Bad move, kid." Before Qrow could draw, Jaune pointed his palm at Qrow and amplified Qrow's Semblance.
"What the—"
Qrow's confusion was obvious about what Jaune was doing, but then his luck seemed to turn against him. He stumbled backward, hitting his head on the terminals, and dropped his weapon. The dust cartridges in the weapon exploded, rendering his weapon useless.
Jaune stepped forward, ready to hand over the evidence to Winter, when he felt a sudden, powerful force wrench it from his grasp. He looked up to see a red-headed woman with green eyes blazing with the fire of the maiden, carrying a spear and shield on her back. She stood stoically as the casing torn from his hands.
"Pyrrha," Jaune said quietly.
Pyrrha's eyes, filled with the intensity of the maiden's power, met his. "I'm sorry, Jaune," she said, her voice steady and emotionless. "But this evidence needs to be protected at all costs. This… isn't something that just anyone should have. It is not your… obligation."
"Still as beautiful as the day we lost her," the rusty voice said in the calmest tone had Jaune heard it. "But it seems she had already chosen the destiny to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders."
"That she did," the yellow tie's voice cut said bitterly. "So I suggest against arguing. There is no point anymore."
"Oho-my, the relic is on her, Jaune," the curious voice pointed. "Delivering it to Oz, perhaps?"
Winter had already drawn her saber and was about to assert her authority when a voice crackled over the intercom.
"This is General Ironwood. Report, Specialist Schnee."
Winter quickly informed Ironwood of the situation, detailing Jaune's discovery and the crucial evidence he had brought back. Ironwood's stern face appeared on the screen, his gaze intense and evaluating.
After a few tense moments, Ironwood's voice cut through the silence. "Allow Qrow and Miss Nikos to take the evidence back to Ozpin. This is our top priority, Specialist Schnee. This information doesn't leave the room unless is them.."
"Always the dog trusting Ozpin," the rusty voice growled. "Ozpin will be the death of him and he'll not know it."
Jaune snorted and palmed the pommel of Crocea Mors. Qrow gave him a look, while Pyrrha's expression remained unreadable. Turning to leave the command center, Jaune felt a cold distance from the woman he once considered a close friend and ally. He understood her reasons and why she had done it, but in the end, she had crushed his dreams at Beacon, just like the others who never believed in him. They hadn't given him a chance to prove he could make it as a Huntsman and in the end... she was just like them. Jaune suspected that if he had been awake during the attack on Beacon, she would have thrown him into a locker and flown him away to keep him safe.
But Jaune didn't want still want to stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives.
As he walked away, he couldn't suppress the bitterness in his heart. The knight's voice tried to stop him, but the rusty voice kept the voice away.
"Miss Nikos," he began, the formal address stark and devoid of the warmth they once shared in those rooftops. "I was fortunate to meet your team in the city and helped them. I understand your responsibilities to a greater cause than yourself… but you shouldn't leave your team alone on the verge of death... you are supposed to be their team leader, after all."
"And what's the use of saving the world if you can't even help your friends while doing it?" Jaune concluded quietly.
Pyrrha's eyes widened slightly, but Jaune didn't wait for a response.
He continued out of the command center.
And for once, glad that the memories of the Afteran were lurking in his head, allowing him to keep his composure.
Don't break.
Never let her in again.
The voices, except for the rusty one, advised him.