Jaune Arc stood amidst the rubble-strewn streets of Mistral, a city that was a shadow of its former self. His black suit, though slightly dusty from the ongoing reconstruction efforts, clung to his muscular yet slender frame, contrasting sharply with the loose yellow tie with an Arc emblem that swung with each of his deliberate steps. The city had recently endured a brutal attack by Grimm and the White Fang, and now the air was thick with the sounds of hammers, saws, and the murmurs of its resilient inhabitants rebuilding their homes and lives.
In Jaune's hand, he held a small, golden button, its surface gleaming despite the dirt clinging to it. It was this insignificant object that had set off a storm in his mind.
"Surely this button belongs to a faunus," the curious voice chimed in. "The design is intricate, and it has a certain elegance that suggests it might have fallen from a piece of their traditional faunus attire, which should be Menagerie made… like from a robe."
"And what makes you so certain of that?" the scheming voice countered. "It could belong to anyone. Why do you always jump to conclusions without any evidence? We need to think this through."
"For crying out loud, it's just a damn button we found on the ground," the rusty voice groaned. "Why are we wasting time arguing about it?"
"I'm with Rusty on this one," the yellow tie's voice added. "We have bigger problems to deal with. Enough of this nonsense."
"I NEED MORE LIQUID DUST!" the drunk voice bellowed. "I CAN'T THINK STRAIGHT WITHOUT IT! LET'S GET A DRINK AND FEED THE ELECTRONS IN MY HEAD!"
Jaune rubbed his temples, the cacophony in his mind making it difficult to focus. He stared at the button, trying to silence the voices. The surrounding city was a testament to both destruction and resilience, a place where every small piece, even a button, could tell a story.
But what story did this button hold?
"The story of idiocy," the yellow tie's voice's said.
Meanwhile, Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren watched from a distance, their concern clear. They had been watching Jaune while staying in Mistral to help with the rebuilding efforts. But recently, Jaune had been acting strangely. Whether it was because of exhaustion from the grueling work, the weight of leadership, or perhaps something else, they couldn't quite tell. And now, he was standing in the middle of the street, seemingly lost in thought, clutching a button as if it held the answers to all of their problems.
Nora nudged Ren. "We should talk to him. He looks... off."
Ren nodded, but hesitated. "He's been through a lot. Maybe he just needs some time to process everything?"
Nora frowned, her usually bright demeanor dimmed by worry. "Yeah, but he can't keep going like this. People are staring!"
"Maybe the button is a clue," the curious voice suggested. "It could lead us to something important, something we need to know to help Mistral recover."
"Or it could be a trap," the scheming voice warned. "Think about it. What if someone dropped it on purpose to distract us? We need to be cautious."
"You're both overthinking it," the rusty voice said with exasperation. "It's a button. Buttons fall off clothes all the time. There's nothing special about it."
"Exactly," the yellow tie's voice agreed. "Let's focus on what really matters. The people of Mistral need our help, not our paranoia."
"WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS BUTTON? WHERE'S THE LIQUID DUST? I NEED IT NOW!" the drunk voice shouted.
Jaune clenched his fist around the button, his patience wearing thin. "Enough!" he muttered under his breath, though it felt more like a shout in the broken landscape of his mind. The constant bickering of the voices was driving him to the edge.
Nora and Ren exchanged a glance before approaching him. Nora placed a gentle hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Hey, Jaune. You okay?"
Jaune looked up, blinking as if waking from a trance. "Nora, Ren. I... I'm fine. Just thinking."
Ren's eyes narrowed slightly. "About the button?"
Jaune sighed, opening his hand to reveal the golden button once more. "Yeah. I found it somewhere. It feels... important. But I can't seem to figure out why."
Nora tilted her head, examining the button. "Maybe it is important?"
"See? Even Nora thinks it might be important. We should investigate further," the curious voice insisted. "You should listen to Nora."
"Don't let your guard down. Stay sharp," the scheming voice urged. "What do they want from you, anyway?"
"For the love of everything, let it go. Focus on what's in front of you," the rusty voice grumbled.
"She's right. Priorities, Brother," the yellow tie's voice echoed.
"LIQUID DUST! NOW!" the drunk voice demanded.
Jaune took a deep breath, pocketing the button. "Oh, sorry, ah, I was a bit out of focus. There is stuff in the city who might need help. Want to come?"
Nora grinned. "Sure!"
Ren nodded in agreement, his expression softening. "We'll help you, Jaune."
As they turned to head back to the reconstruction site, Jaune couldn't help but glance at the surrounding buildings. Mistral was a city with a rich history, and every brick and stone had a story to tell. The attacks had left scars, but the spirit of its people remained unbroken.
"The people of Mistral are admirable," the knight's voice remarked. "They keep going, no matter what. Maybe the button is a symbol of that resilience."
"Or a reminder of the enemies we still need to face. We can't afford to be complacent," the curious voice responded.
"Here we go again..." the rusty voice sighed.
"Stay focused, Jaune. One step at a time," the yellow tie's voice advised. "Ignore the morons, and forgot about the damn button."
"ONE STEP TO THE TAVERN, YOU MEAN!" the drunk voice chimed in.
Jaune shook his head, a small and tired smile playing on his lips.
The button might or might not be important, but what mattered at the moment was the here and now.
He really needs to stop doing this in the open.
But what can he do?
When he felt like he was burning if he ignores them.
Like he was tied to a stake where the voices were the flames.
As they walked around Mistral, checking the rebuilding effort and see if there was any problem. Nora and Ren noticed Jaune had truly become somewhat distant. Though he was physically present, his mind often seemed to wander often.
Nora and Ren noticed this change and felt a growing unease. They remembered their short time together at Beacon, the camaraderie, and shared dreams. Now Jaune seemed like a different person. The weight of responsibility and the events that transpired throughout the years they weren't there for him seemed to have shaped him into someone they struggled to fully recognize.
As they watched human and faunus alike lift debris from a collapsed building, Nora tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, remember the food fights back at Beacon? Those were some good times."
Ren nodded, a faint smile appearing on his face. "And Professor Port's never-ending stories. I miss those."
Jaune looked up from his work as he made a tap on his tablet, his expression distant. "I figure it must be more of an on-job experience for you guys now."
Nora glanced at Ren, then back at Jaune. "You know, even though Oz expelled you, you still became a Huntsman before us. That's something to be proud of."
Jaune shrugged, the motion conveying a heaviness that his words didn't. "It's not a big deal. They did it to raise my status, not because I earned it. It was more about appearances than merit."
Nora and Ren exchanged an uncomfortable look. This wasn't the Jaune they knew — the boy who was always eager to prove himself, who wore his heart on his sleeve. This Jaune had different faces, one for work, one for the moments when he was lost in thought.
"I'm doing fine," Jaune said suddenly, as if sensing their concern. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to catch up with you both. The schedule has been crazy, and as Mediator… I have to be distracted."
Nora hesitated before speaking, her voice softer than usual. "I'm sorry for how Pyrrha was acting... before. I-I heard she was rude…"
Jaune's face hardened, his tone cold and detached. "It doesn't matter. Miss Nikos had every right to do what she wants."
The way he referred to Pyrrha formally and distantly sent a chill through Nora and Ren. They knew better than to press the issue, but it was clear Jaune's feelings towards her had become complicated, if not outright cold.
They continued to follow Jaune around, checking out the rebuilding efforts, but it was as if they were searching for something they couldn't see or hear. Jaune led them through the city, his eyes scanning the environment as if looking for answers.
Nora tried to bridge the gap. "So, Jaune, have you thought about what you'll do after Mistral? Any plans?"
Jaune paused, his gaze fixed on a distant point. "I haven't thought that far ahead. There's too much to do here first. But probably more talk. With the people from Argus handling, some of the bureaucratic affairs, and some Huntsmen taking position. I could go around here."
Ren's voice was gentle but firm. "You've done a lot for this city."
"Did I? All I did was talk to people and scare them sometimes," Jaune nodded, though his expression remained inscrutable. "But thanks. I appreciate it."
They spent the rest of the day working in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The bond they shared was still there, but it was strained, stretched thin by the changes and challenges they had faced. Jaune's demeanor, the way he compartmentalized his emotions, made it difficult for Nora and Ren to feel close to him in the way they once had.
As night fell and they settled down to rest, Nora couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She missed the Jaune who was always quick with a joke, who wore his heart on his sleeve. This new Jaune, while still her friend, was a mystery, wrapped up in layers of duty, pain, and unspoken words.
He felt… older.
Ren, sensing her discomfort, gave her a reassuring look.
Nora saw Ren's look and simply nodded, though her heart ached with the uncertainty of it all. They had all changed, but she held onto the hope that, in time, that maybe Team JNPR would be back together again.
But that seems like a distant dream seeing Jaune. Nora sometimes felt like it just wasn't destined for Team JNPR to be together forever.
She hated it.
Jaune, Nora, and Ren finally took a break from the stroll, the sun sinking low and painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. They walked down the streets of Mistral, searching for a place to eat. The city was slowly coming back to life, and the aroma of food from street vendors mixed with the dusty air was back.
They found a small food stall and sat down at a wooden table under a canvas canopy. The vendor, a cheerful woman with a warm smile, served them bowls of steaming noodles.
Ren took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Jaune," he began, his voice steady but laden with emotion, "I never properly thanked you for saving me from the Nuckelavee... and for helping me avenge my family."
Jaune looked at Ren, his expression solemn. "It's alright, Ren. I'm just glad you survived."
Tears welled up in Ren's eyes, and he didn't bother to hide them. "You avenged my family, Jaune. You did what I couldn't. I'll always be grateful for that."
"No, in a way, you helped confront it. I was just there to do land the killing blow," Jaune nodded, his gaze unwavering. "You and Nora are family to me. Even though it's been years since I was expelled from Beacon and we didn't spend a lot of time together and I was too busy to contact you two while I was working as a Mediator, it doesn't change how I feel. I think of you as a brother, Ren. And Nora... you're still like a sister to me."
Nora's eyes shimmered with both happiness and sadness. She reached across the table and then a smile finally blossomed to hear face.
They ate in relative silence. The food was simple but delicious, a comforting reminder of normalcy amid the chaos of their lives.
As they finished their meal, Nora sighed. "I miss these moments. Just the three of us, talking about anything and everything."
Ren smiled softly. "It's nice to take a break and just be together."
Jaune nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It is."
They spent the rest of the evening talking about casual things — old memories, silly stories, and plans for the future. The conversation flowed easily, a welcome respite from the heavy burdens of their roles.
As the night grew darker, it was time for Nora and Ren to take a rest since they'd have to return to Vale early in the morning.
Nora hugged Jaune tightly. "Take care of yourself, Jaune. We'll see you again!"
Ren placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "If you ever need anything, you know where to find us. We're a scroll away, Jaune."
Jaune nodded, his voice steady. "You too. Take care."
As Jaune watched, Nora and Ren walked away, their figures becoming smaller until they disappeared into the night. Jaune stood there for a moment, letting the silence wash over him.
"Well, that was nice," the curious voice in his head remarked.
"Those two would follow you through thick and think no matter how weak you are," the rusty voice said solemnly. "They'd cross continents while carrying their grief and go against the odds even if it the most correct thing to do was to just give up and run away. I'm… glad you didn't push them away… Ren… Nora… they don't deserve to suffer… to get scarred just because their heart of gold tells them they can't stomach the idea of abandoning their friends."
Jaune knows. He saw those memories from the Afteran... the memories were gradually entering… and with the memories he also could feel the distance that those memories imbue him.
Three years without seeing them… and then twenty years of memories without them at all.
It was an odd feeling that he just can't understand.
But Jaune realized something.
No matter what time and place… it seems Team JNPR would get scarred and beaten by the world and even lost their own.
He felt envy that Team RWBY still had each other and then felt the unfairness that their luck wasn't so good as them.
"Either we would lose her or she would become so cold that she might as well have dedicated her all to this destiny she felt obliged to take on," the rusty voice said bitterly.
Jaune sighed, turning to head back to his quarters in the city. As he walked, the curious voice spoke up again. "Hey, look over there."
Jaune's gaze followed the direction indicated by the voice. He spotted a dark-skinned man with a distinctive mohawk and shaved sides, his fox ears twitching slightly under a red hood. The man wore a black tunic with white trimming, detached white sleeves, and pleated white pants. His outfit was striking, but what truly caught Jaune's attention was the button on the man's cloak.
It was the same button Jaune had found.
"You have got to be kidding," the yellow tie tighten around Jaune's neck in shock.
"Stay in the shadow," the rusty voice advised. "But remember they can also see in the dark."
Keeping in the shadows, Jaune began to tail the man, his mind racing. The voices in his head were oddly silent, as if they, too, were focused on the task at hand. The man moved with purpose, weaving through the streets with an ease that suggested familiarity.
Jaune followed at a safe distance, careful not to draw attention to himself. He watched as the man entered a dimly lit alleyway, disappearing into the shadows. Jaune hesitated for a moment before following, his senses on high alert and his vision amped up, following the 'ghost trail' the man was leaving behind.
The alley was narrow and dark, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and decay. Jaune's footsteps were nearly silent as he crept forward, his eyes scanning for any sign of the man.
Suddenly, the man stopped, turning slightly, as if sensing Jaune's presence. Jaune pressed himself against the wall, holding his breath. The man seemed to linger for a moment before continuing on his way, disappearing around a corner.
Jaune exhaled slowly, continuing his pursuit. The alleyway opened up into a small courtyard, dimly illuminated by a single, flickering streetlamp. The man stood in the center, waiting for something.
Jaune watched from the shadows, his mind racing. Who was this man, and why did he have the same button? The questions swirled in Jaune's mind, but he knew he had to be patient.
The man seemed to sense he was being watched. He glanced around, his fox ears twitching. Jaune held his breath, staying as still as possible. After a moment, the man relaxed, turning his attention to the entrance of the courtyard.
Jaune felt a pang of curiosity mixed with caution. He needed to know more, but he couldn't afford to be reckless. He would have to wait and see what the man did next.
As the minutes ticked by, Jaune's patience was rewarded. Another figure emerged from the shadows, a woman with striking green eyes and a confident stride. She approached the man, and they began to converse in hushed tones.
Jaune strained to hear their conversation, catching only fragments. Words like "liquid," "message," and "meeting" stood out, but the context remained elusive.
The woman handed the man a small, ornate box. He opened it, revealing a collection of strange Grimm-like creatures contained in crystals. They exchanged nods before the woman turned and disappeared back into the shadows.
The man secured the box and began to leave the courtyard. Jaune knew this was his chance. He followed, keeping to the shadows. As he trailed the man through the labyrinthine streets of Mistral, Jaune couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the brink of something significant. The voices in his head remained silent, as if they too were holding their breath, waiting for what would come next.
Jaune was determined to find out.
Then the rusty voice broke the silence. "I can't fucking believe this."
The yellow tie's voice chimed in, disbelief evident. "This can't be real. What are we walking into?"
The scheming voice was more cautious. "Stay sharp, Jaune. We don't know what we're dealing with."
"I smell dust in the air," the well-informed voice said and then shuddered. "And something even worse."
Jaune watched as the faunus approached a large, decrepit warehouse on the outskirts of the city. His heart sank as he saw the telltale white masks of White Fang operatives moving about, stirring what looked like Grimm liquid in large vats using these green crystals on them that were starting to slowly to take the form of Grimm.
Before he could react, the rusty voice took control. "We need to destroy this place NOW."
Jaune was about to move when he heard the rustle of leaves. He froze, every muscle tensing as a shiver ran down his spine. Through the rustling leaves, he saw the faunus he had been following conversing with another figure, no, it was not the same faunus, but… his brother? The chameleon faunus whose skin shifted colors with the surroundings.
Their voices carried through the night air, filled with an icy determination. "We have to do what's right for Menagerie," the fox faunus said. "The only way to achieve results is to kill the fool who leads it."
Jaune's breath caught as he realized who they were talking about. Through the rustle of the leaves, he saw Ghira Belladonna's back exposed, unaware of the imminent danger. The chameleon faunus moved with deadly precision, catching Ghira off guard.
"Ghira, no!" Kali Belladonna's voice was filled with panic as she tried to intervene. The chameleon faunus struck, slicing Kali's stomach and then stabbing Ghira on the side.
Before the chameleon faunus could deliver the killing blow, a blur of red, white, black, and yellow burst from out of nowhere, attacking the assailant. The chameleon faunus clicked her tongue in frustration and leaped back, escaping into the night.
Jaune shook his head, trying to dispel the vision. He had seen enough. Pulling out his scroll, he quickly snapped a picture of the scene, documenting the Grimm liquid and the White Fang operatives.
His mind raced as he formulated a plan. He spotted several dust containers stacked nearby, likely stolen from the city's stores and refineries. Jaune also noticed that they weren't marked by the SDC and were marked by the Mistral Trading Company. Moving quickly, he rigged them to explode, setting a makeshift fuse. With a last glance at the picture on his scroll, he picked up the containers and hurled them into the vats of Grimm liquid.
He turned and ran, the voices in his head clamoring once more. "Get out of there!" the rusty voice urged.
"Move, move, move!" the yellow tie's voice echoed.
Jaune didn't look back as he sprinted out of the warehouse, the explosion ripping through the air moments later. The ground shook beneath his feet, and a wave of heat washed over him as the Grimm liquid ignited, sending a plume of black smoke into the sky.
He stumbled to a stop a safe distance away, aura shimmering. The voices in his head were silent again, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of his own ragged breaths.
The scheming voice finally broke the silence. "That was close. Too close."
Jaune nodded to himself, taking a moment to steady his nerves. He glanced back at the burning warehouse, the flames reflecting in his eyes.
Jaune then spotted a figure moving swiftly through the shadows. His target. The man he had been following before everything went to hell at the warehouse seems to have escaped.
"There he is," the curious voice whispered.
"Don't lose him," the rusty voice urged.
Jaune kept to the shadows, his movements silent and deliberate. The faunus man was making his way towards a secluded part of the city, holding his arm and trying to run away from the chaos of the explosion. Jaune's pulse quickened as he closed the distance, every step bringing him closer to his target.
Finally, the man stopped in a small, deserted courtyard, glancing around nervously. Jaune stepped out from the shadows with Crocea Mors drawn and gleaming into the night, his presence marked by the crunch of gravel underfoot. The faunus turned, his fox ears twitching in alarm.
Jaune's eyes were steely, his voice calm but authoritative. "You're under arrest."
The faunus man eyed Jaune warily, his stance shifting into a defensive position. "Who do you think you are?"
Jaune reached into his scroll and showed his Huntsman license, holding it up for the faunus to see. The license gleamed under the faint light. "Jaune Arc, Huntsman. And you're coming with me."
The faunus man's eyes widened in recognition and fear. He took a step back, but there was nowhere to run. Jaune advanced, Crocea Mors, ready for any sudden moves.
"You don't understand," the faunus stammered. "This is bigger than you or me. We're trying to save Menagerie… no, the world from scum like you!"
Jaune's expression remained stoic. "By killing people? Your own kind? By stirring Grimm into the city? You're not saving anyone, you're condemning them."
The man shook his head, desperation creeping into his voice. "You don't know what it's like. The oppression, the suffering. We have to fight back."
"And you can do that from a cell," Jaune replied coldly. "Now, are you coming quietly, or do I have to make you? Just you know, if you know me already then breaking your legs and returning them back to normal is a simple matter."
The faunus glanced around, weighing his options. Finally, he seemed to realize the futility of resistance. His shoulders slumped, and he raised a hand in surrender. "Fine. I'll go."
Jaune nodded, stepping forward to secure the man's wrists with bindings. "Good choice. Let's go."
As he led the faunus man back through the streets of Mistral, Jaune couldn't help but looked at the ID he pulled out of the faunus. Fennec Albain, a representative sent by Menagerie. He had seen this man in some meetings, but he always wore his suit and tie while letting Nyra speak.
The curious voice inside of his head was bragging, but the rest of the voices understood what the implication was of one representative of Menagerie, sent for goodwill, turning out to be part of the White Fang and possibly scheming to land a killing blow to the city of Mistral.
But what worried Jaune the most was the green crystal they were trying to add to the Grimm Liquid.
"Why were they trying to create Merlot's Grimm?" the rusty voice said. "He should have already been dealt with…"
And for the first time, Jaune felt a sliver of concern from that rusted voice.
Then he felt the shivers as he saw visions of a place beyond Remnant.
In a world under two suns, he saw the Great Tree with its branches crooked and twisted, it's bare limbs further poking into that pale of nothingness that separated its blossoms from where it fell... as if hoping to reach out to them... to reach out into their pain
Then he heard the sound of the hammer and the shadow of a Blacksmith forging in front of the flames under a green night dotted with glowing green orbs.
Striking.
Striking.
And Striking.
The visions fade.
Jaune was left alone and realized his aura was shattered.
The faunus was on the ground seemingly unconscious.
And on his calloused hand was a multi-colored leaf.
Smooth to the touch, with a delicate texture where the veins slightly raise above the surface. Its multi-colored sections soft and pliable, giving a gentle, almost silky sensation as he run his fingers over its intricate patterns.
Jaune shuddered as he crushed it, only to open it and saw it back on his hand.
Then, as he blinked, the leaf was gone again.
Jaune had a horrifying feeling that if he thought about it.
It would be there.
He blinked.
And indeed... it was on his palm again.
As if the palm of his hand was a place it knows.