The small, cozy office that Jaune was, was filled with the soft hum of machinery. A constant reminder of the city life he had grown accustomed to over the past years. Sitting behind a sturdy desk cluttered with paperwork and folders, Jaune's kind eyes and patient demeanor, greeted the elderly couple who had come to renew their leases.

A long time ago, Jaune would have mourned for his dreams of being a huntsman and stuck in an office. But spending years working in this office had allowed him to do some good for some people.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Griswold," Jaune Arc said with a warm smile as they entered the room. "It's lovely to see you again. Please, have a seat."

The elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Griswold, exchanged nervous glances as they settled into the chairs opposite Jaune. Mr. Griswold, with his thinning white hair and spectacles perched on the tip of his nose, cleared his throat before speaking.

"We're here to discuss the renewal of our lease," he said, his voice wavering slightly with uncertainty. "And my friends said you can help, Mr. Arc."

Jaune nodded understandingly, reaching for the file marked with the Griswold's name. "Of course. Let's go over the details together. How have you been finding your current living situation?"

Mrs. Griswold, her gentle features etched with concern, spoke up. "It's been quite comfortable, Mr. Arc, thank you. But with the recent increase in rent prices, we're worried about whether we'll be able to afford it."

Jaune listened attentively, jotting down notes as they spoke. "I understand your concerns. Let's see what options we have available." Jaune began flipping through the pages of the lease agreement, pointing out different clauses and potential solutions. Leaned forward in his chair, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully explained each option to the Griswolds. His voice was patient, his words measured, as he broke down complex legal jargon into understandable terms.

"You see," he began, gesturing with his hands for emphasis, "this first option gives you the most immediate relief, but it also comes with certain obligations..." Jaune paused, noticing the Griswolds exchanging uncertain glances. Sensing their confusion, he adjusted his approach, diving deeper into the intricacies of their situation.

"...and that's where this second option might come in handy," Jaune continued, his tone now more reassuring. "While it may take longer to resolve, it offers greater long-term stability and protection for your family." He made sure to maintain eye contact with each member of the Griswold family, ensuring they felt seen and understood.

As the discussion progressed, Jaune didn't just stop at legal matters. He delved into the broader context of their situation, offering insights into available resources and support systems. "There are financial assistance programs that can help ease the burden," he explained, his voice tinged with empathy. "And don't forget about the community support services the Kingdom can provide — its invaluable assistance during this challenging time."

Mr. and Mrs. Griswold sat side by side as they exchanged a glance, their expressions a mixture of relief and resolution after hours of deliberation.

Mrs. Griswold reached for her husband's hand, her fingers intertwining with his as they shared a silent moment of understanding. Their decision weighed heavily on them, but they knew it was the right one for their situation.

With trembling hands, Mr. Griswold picked up the pen, his grip tight but determined. He glanced at his wife, her gentle nod of encouragement giving him the strength he needed. With a deep breath, he carefully signed his name on the dotted line of the lease agreement, his signature a testament to their commitment.

Mrs. Griswold followed suit, her hand steady as she added her signature below her husband's. As the last stroke of the pen marked the paper, a sense of relief washed over them, lifting the weight from their shoulders.

With the lease agreement signed, they exchanged a grateful smile, knowing they could continue to call Mantle their home.

As they prepared to leave the office, Mr. Griswold extended a grateful hand to Jaune. "Thank you so much for your help. You've made this process much easier for us."

Jaune smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting genuine empathy. "It was my pleasure. Remember, if you ever need assistance again, don't hesitate to reach out. Take care, Mr. and Mrs. Griswold."

The elderly couple rose from their seats, their movements slower, but their spirits visibly lifted. Mrs. Griswold reached out to shake Jaune's hand, her grip surprisingly strong despite her age. "You've been a godsend, Mr. Arc," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

As they made their way to the door, Jaune walked with them, a silent escort, through the winding corridors of the office.

At the threshold, Mr. Griswold turned back, a twinkle in his eye. "You are a kind man, Mr. Arc," he said, his words carrying the weight of genuine appreciation.

Jaune nodded, his chest swelling with a mixture of pride and humility. "Thank you, Mr. Griswold. It's been an honor to assist you both."

With a final handshake and a heartfelt farewell, the elderly couple stepped out into the bustling streets. And as Jaune watched them go, he couldn't help but feel a swell of satisfaction.

I guess helping people is still good… even though it's not a Huntsman job… it feels good. I'm just glad I could do something for them.

Jaune pushed open the door to the break room, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of conversation. He made his way over to the small table tucked in the corner, where Cyanne Gray sat with a steaming cup in hand, her eyes fixed on a crossword puzzle.

"Hey there, Jaune," Cyanne said, looking up from her puzzle with a warm smile. "Grab a seat. You look like you could use a break."

"Thanks," Jaune replied, sinking into the chair opposite her. He poured himself a cup of coffee, relishing the brief respite from the demands of his caseload.

"So, how's your day been?" Cyanne asked, her tone casual but genuinely interested.

Jaune sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Busy, as usual. But... you know, it's been rewarding."

Cyanne arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Let me guess, another heartwarming tale of justice prevailing?"

Jaune chuckled, nodding in affirmation. "You got it. I just wrapped up a case for an elderly couple facing eviction. Managed to secure them some extra time and connect them with community resources."

Cyanne's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You're such a softy with these cases, Jaune."

He shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Guilty as charged, I guess. But... I don't know, I like helping out. Makes me feel like I'm actually making a difference, you know?"

Cyanne reached across the table, giving Jaune's hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you are, Jaune. You really are. Better than most of the scumbags here!"

As Cyanne's words hung in the air, there was a moment of stunned silence in the break room. The other coworkers exchanged uncomfortable glances, shifting uneasily in their seats.

Jaune felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement at Cyanne's candid remark. He was used to being seen as the idealistic one among his colleagues, the one who always fought for what was right, even in the face of adversity. And while it was true, he clung to his principles. He had made compromises, too.

Jaune chuckled softly, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. "Thanks, Cyanne," he said with a wry smile. "I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."

The others in the room nodded awkwardly, some offering half-hearted murmurs of agreement. But Jaune could sense the skepticism lingering beneath their polite responses. Many of his coworkers see Jaune's unwavering commitment to fairness as naïve, almost foolish.

But of course it wasn't simple. There were times he felt the urge to lash out, to give in to the violence bubbling beneath the surface.

But Jaune had learned to channel that energy into something constructive. He had honed his ability to diffuse tense situations, to find common ground even with the most difficult of adversaries. And while his coworkers might see him as overly idealistic, they couldn't deny his effectiveness at bringing about positive change.

"Jaune," Cyanne said, her voice soft but resolute, "ignore them. You know you're doing the right thing."

"Just don't get into a fistfight with them, okay?" Jaune offered her a small smile.

Cyanne snorted. "If there was a river of Grimm and some asshole tried to find someone, you'd be the kind of guy who'd prioritize the people, even if it meant getting arrested for it."

Cyanne's words brought a genuine smile to Jaune's face. He appreciated her unwavering support and understanding, even if it came wrapped in her characteristic blunt honesty.

"Thanks, Cyanne," Jaune replied, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm facing down a river of Grimm."

Their chitchat was interrupted by the sound of the office door swinging open, and Jaune glanced up to see their supervisor, Mr. Greene, entering the break room. His stern expression softened slightly as he caught sight of the two colleagues deep in conversation.

"Everything okay in here?" Mr. Greene asked, his tone cautious.

Cyanne nodded, shooting Jaune a conspiratorial wink before turning her attention back to their supervisor. "Just fine, Mr. Greene. Just discussing some... unconventional Hypotheticals."

Mr. Greene raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but choosing not to delve further into the matter. "Very well. Carry on."

As their supervisor left the room, Cyanne turned back to Jaune, her expression serious. "But in all seriousness, Jaune, never lose that compassion of yours. The world could use more people like you, even if it means you occasionally ruffle a few feathers."

Jaune nodded, an odd sense of determination burning within him. "I won't, Cyanne. No matter what."

Mr. Greene's footsteps echoed across the linoleum floor as he poked his head in the break room.

"Ah, I almost forgot, Mr. Arc, a word in my office, if you please," Mr. Greene said, his tone clipped and businesslike.

Jaune exchanged a quick glance with Cyanne. Without a word, he rose from his seat, following Mr. Fletcher out of the break room and down the corridor to his office.

The walk felt longer than usual. Jaune couldn't help but replay the events of the day in his mind, wondering if he had somehow overstepped his bounds.

As he reached Mr. Greene's office, Jaune braced himself, steeling his nerves for whatever reprimand or admonishment awaited him. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Mr. Greene's office felt imposing as Jaune entered, the polished wood furnishings casting long shadows in the dim light. Jaune took a seat across from Mr. Greene, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap as he awaited the reason for this unexpected summons.

"Mr. Arc," Mr. Greene began, his tone grave as he folded his hands on the desk before him. "We have a situation that requires your help."

Jaune's brow furrowed in confusion. "My help? What do you mean?"

Mr. Greene leaned forward, his expression serious. "We need a mediator to work with the Atlas Military on a delicate matter."

Jaune's eyes widened in surprise. "Why me? There must be others more qualified for this."

Mr. Greene's gaze bore into Jaune's, unwavering. "It's because of your aura, Jaune. You have experience facing Grimm, and that's invaluable in a situation like this."

Jaune hesitated, the weight of Mr. Greene's words sinking in. He couldn't deny the truth in them—his aura had often proven to be a potent asset in dealing with dangerous situations. But cooperating with the Atlas Military was a whole different level of risk.

"But sir," Jaune protested, "whatever they're asking for, it can't be simple. And I'm not sure I'm the right person for the job."

Mr. Greene nodded, acknowledging Jaune's concerns. "You're right, Jaune. It won't be easy. But none of the Mediators working in this government have your level of experience or capability. We need someone who can handle the pressure, someone who can keep a cool head in the face of danger."

Jaune felt like Mr. Greene overestimated how much he had learned in Beacon. Though he had memories of this Rusted Knight in the Everafter. He was still adapting to it.

Jaune leaned forward, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair tightly as he met Mr. Greene's gaze head-on. "With all due respect, sir, I didn't even reach my second year at Beacon. You should know my history."

Mr. Greene's expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no hint of doubt. "I'm aware of your background, Mr. Arc. But circumstances have changed, and we find ourselves in need of your expertise."

Jaune's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled to make sense of Mr. Greene's reasoning. "But why me? There must be others more qualified for this."

Mr. Greene's tone remained firm but sympathetic. "Because, Mr. Arc, we're facing a delicate situation that requires someone with your unique skill set. This isn't a decision we've made lightly, but we believe you're the best person for the job… and your case load speaks for itself."

Jaune shook his head, unable to shake the feeling of doubt gnawing at him. "But sending me, someone with limited experience, into a situation like this — it's reckless."

Mr. Greene nodded, acknowledging Jaune's concerns without wavering in his conviction. "I understand your apprehension, Mr. Arc. But consider the alternative. Sending in individuals without aura could pose an even greater risk. This situation is tricky, and we need someone who can navigate it with caution and precision."

Jaune felt a cold.

Then, sensing a shift in Mr. Greene's tone, Jaune leaned closer to Mr. Greene and spoke in a low voice, his words barely above a whisper. "Is everything all right, sir? I sense... something."

Mr. Greene's expression tightened imperceptibly, a flicker of concern crossing his features before he regained his composure. "It concerns the delicate relations between the SDC, Menagerie, and Atlas," he replied, his voice equally hushed.

A chill ran down Jaune's spine at the mention of those three entities. The implications were clear — whatever was brewing had the potential to ignite a powder keg of conflict that could engulf the entire kingdom.

"Do you understand now, Mr. Arc?"

Jaune's mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts as he processed the implications of Mr. Greene's words. He sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he weighed the risks and uncertainties.

Then he felt his very memories tremble and shiver.

He falls from a bridge connecting a one-way point, the moon casting light on the fallen civilians burnt and cinder. The air is heavy with the weight of the past, whispers of lost souls echoing through the night. The silence is deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves carried by the wind, each sound sending a shiver down his spine. He can almost feel the presence of those who met their end in this beach their restless spirits haunting the beaches of a world not theirs. His heart races as he struggle to push aside the creeping sense of dread, knowing that danger lurks in every shadow.

Jaune heard it clearly.

A blacksmith pounding her hammer on an anvil.

Somewhere, but elsewhere.

Not here.

Minutes passed like hours. The weight grew heavier as he heard the strike on the anvil.

With a cautious glance at Mr. Greene, Jaune nodded slowly, his expression grave but resolute.

It was a decision made not lightly.

The hammer on the anvil stops.

Mr. Greene's gaze softened slightly. "I'll be sending you the location to your meetup point," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Know that this wasn't a choice I made easily."

Damn. I'm actually annoyed that someone actually guessed I'm ripping off the Shivers checks from DE lol. Good job anon.