Jaune Arc stood amidst the aftermath of the confrontation, the night air heavy with tension and the lingering sense of unresolved conflict. He watched as Ozpin and his followers retreated into the shadows, their expressions a mix of anger, frustration, and something else — a deep, abiding fear. But Pyrrha, he saw she looked tired, so lost and unsure what to do.

Jaune met Pyrrha's eyes. He smiled, and that seems to hurt her more. With hesitance, she followed the rest, her shoulders clearly heavy.

"He fears her more than anything," whispered the Well-informed voice in his mind. "Salem is the shadow that looms over his every decision, the dread that keeps him awake at night and, in turn, he influences them."

Jaune's eyes flickered as he absorbed these thoughts. Ozpin's fear was palpable, and it had driven him to extreme measures, clouding his judgment and leading to the very brink of paranoia.

"He can't see past his own fear," agreed the Rusty Voice, its tone grating and worn. "He's been at this for centuries, and it's consumed him. I knew he'd try this… but to think he was willing to do this. It's a good thing we didn't fight. I can't… fight Pyrrha. Team RWBY. They… are our friends."

"But being friends doesn't mean we have to agree to what they believe," the Rusty Voice added. "Despite it all, Oz is qualified for his opinion about Salem… because, unlike my time, our friends here, they haven't seen it all. The lamp… they've not seen what Ozma has done and the years with him have made them sure of him."

"What about Salem's followers?" the Knight's voice asked.

Jaune sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair streaked with white.

The weight of his own decisions pressed down on him, a heavy burden that he had chosen to bear.

He knew the risks of meeting with Salem's followers, the danger that lurked in every shadow, but he also knew that doing nothing would only perpetuate the cycle of violence and fear.

The moment he saw the Grimm dragon flew over Vale.

He had made his choice.

"Ozpin thinks he's protecting everyone," the Curious Voice mused, its tone thoughtful and probing. "But in reality, he's just prolonging the inevitable. We need a different approach, a new strategy."

Jaune's mind raced, considering the words of the voices that inhabited his thoughts.

Each one offered a different perspective, a unique insight into the complex web of their situation.

He blinked and a multi-colored leaf appeared in his hand, then he squashed it, the leaf vanishing without a trace.

"Oz has the right to be afraid," the Scheming Voice added, its tone cold and calculating. "Salem is a master manipulator. She's turned countless allies into enemies, twisted the best of men into her puppets and even made kingdoms fight the Brothers for her only to get anhilated. Perhaps, if Oz only knows how many voices are whispering in your head, maybe he'd even be even more convinced to not let this meeting happen."

Jaune clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He knew the truth of these words, had seen it firsthand. But he also knew that fear could be a weapon, a tool that Salem wielded with precision and skill.

She divides through that fear.

"But we can't let fear dictate our actions," Jaune muttered, his voice steady. "We need to think logically, to be strategic in our approach."

The voices in his head murmured their agreements, their tones mingling in a cacophony of thoughts and ideas.

"Logical, yes," the Well-informed voice agreed. "We need to understand our enemies, to anticipate their moves and counter them effectively… and we've been doing just that. But the thing about these beings is that they are not so simple. To call Salem pure evil is to neglect the tragedy she had seen and experienced. Her hate for the Gods was not made immediately. She had tried to make a deal with infantile Gods, who unlike the Blacksmith in the tree"

Jaune felt a moment of quiet introspection. The voices in his head continued their discussions, analyzing every angle, every possible outcome.

"Salem's followers are dangerous," the Rusty Voice warned again. "They'll stop at nothing to achieve their goals too. We need to deal with them once Salem's done."

"Yes," the Scheming Voice hissed. "But they are also predictable. We can use that to our advantage. Some of the best huntsmen are following them now. Oz might not trust his own huntsmen and huntresses, but we will."

Jaune closed his eyes, letting their words wash over him. He needed to stay focused, to keep his mind sharp and his emotions in check, but not so much he'd closed off his heart.

"Ozpin's fear is his greatest weakness," the Curious Voice noted. "While Salem's weakness is her arrogance, born out of her immortality."

"We must be different," the Well-informed voice insisted. "We must not follow their steps and become the third-party. Do what we have always done, be the Mediator that brokers peace."

Jaune opened his eyes, his gaze steely and determined.

He knew what he had to do, the path he had chosen.

It wouldn't be easy, and it would require every ounce of his strength and resolve.

But he was ready.

As Jaune stood at the edge of the city, gazing out at the dark horizon. The weight of his decisions, of the voices in his head, felt heavier than ever. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

"We need to keep moving forward," the Well-informed voice urged. "We can't let fear hold us back."

Jaune nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in their words.

He needed to find a balance, to navigate the fine line between caution and action.

Then again, the voices warned, as if gathering every iota of his courage and bravery, persuading him until he truly believed it.

"Ozpin's fear is a powerful force," the Scheming Voice noted. "It clouds his judgment, makes him vulnerable… he'll try to oppose us again and again. He knows Salem, understands her, that he will not be persuaded to change his mind. It's… a bias he'll never let go, no matter what argument we have. He thinks that his old age makes him infallible, faultless. He'll throw his 'wisdom' and 'experience' around with such pride and yet he doesn't seem to acknowledge that perhaps he has been using a strategy that hasn't been working."

"We can't let that happen to us," the Curious Voice added. "We must stay clear-headed, focused on our goals. Our goal is to broker peace, and also make sure to end the threat."

"We have allies," he thought, the plan forming in his mind. "People we can trust who share our goals. But there is a need for limits as well. You can trust Nora and Ren to have your back. Penny too. Dare I say, even Winter will help you if asked her…"

The voices in his head murmured their agreements, their tones blending into a symphony of determination and resolve.

"This is a gamble," the Well-informed voice stated, its tone serious. "But it's a gamble we can win."

Jaune's eyes narrowed as he considered this. Was it true? Could they actually turn the tide in their favor?

"Look at the facts," the Rusty Voice began, its tone rough and weary. "Ozpin's strategy has been to fight fire with fire, to meet Salem's aggression with his own. And where has that gotten us? More death, more destruction, and no end in sight."

"Exactly," the Scheming Voice chimed in, its tone cold and calculating. "We've been playing their game, by their rules. It's time to change the game, to make our own rules."

Jaune nodded slowly, the logic beginning to take shape in his mind. They needed a new approach, something that Salem wouldn't expect.

"And what better way to do that," the Curious Voice mused, "than to use her own methods against her? She's a master manipulator, but we can outthink her, outmaneuver her."

"Don't be arrogant," The Rusted voice warned. "We know better than that. She has lived long enough to see all kinds of men and women. Better than us. Smarter than us. She outlasted them. We need to play into her arrogance. To make her believe we are nothing more than a child she can shake her head head. That's the problem with these aged beings, they truly believe in their experience and wisdom that they cannot see past a mountain. It's the same with Oz as well. We can use this."

"Oh I know we can," the Curious voice answered. "We have a card we can play. Something that Salem wants."

"Salem won't see it coming," the Scheming Voice said with a hint of satisfaction. "She's used to people reacting out of fear, out of desperation. But if we approach her with a calm, calculated strategy, we can throw her off balance… we need to make her think and ask what makes us so confident we can talk with her."

"And when she's off balance," the Rusty Voice added, "that's when we strike the deal."

Jaune nodded, a plan beginning to take shape in his mind. They would need to be careful, to move slowly and deliberately. But if they could pull it off, it could change everything.

"We need to keep our eyes on the prize," the Knight's Voice reminded him. "The ultimate goal is to end this conflict, to bring peace to our world. And sometimes, that means taking risks."

Jaune's eyes hardened with determination. He had always been willing to take risks, to put himself on the line for what he believed in. And this was no different.

Jaune took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their words settle over him.

"We've been on the defensive for too long," the Rusty Voice said. "It's time to go on the offensive, to take the fight to her."

"But we need to be careful," the Scheming Voice cautioned. "We can't afford to make mistakes. Every move we make needs to be calculated, precise."

Jaune nodded, understanding the gravity of their situation. They were walking a fine line, balancing on the edge of a knife. But if they could pull it off, the rewards would be worth the risk.

"This is our chance," the Well-informed voice said, its tone filled with resolve. "Our chance to end the game."

Jaune's eyes glinted with determination. They would need to be careful to plan their moves meticulously. But he was ready. Ready to take the gamble, to put everything on the line for a chance at victory.

"We can do this," the Scheming Voice said, its tone filled with confidence. "We can win."

"And when we do," the Rusty Voice added, "we'll be free from their unending game. Salem… Ozpin… their arrogance of age is their weakness."

Jaune's heart swelled with resolve. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for, the chance to change everything. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his decisions settle over him.

"This is a gamble," he repeated, his mind clear and focused. "But it's a gamble we can win."

The voices in his head murmured their agreements, their tones blending into a symphony of determination and resolve. Together, they would find a way to end this conflict, to bring about a new dawn for their world. And they would do it on their terms, not Salem's.

Jaune raised his hand and then blinked, his right armed covered in a rusted armor.

So many violent thoughts came to him, almost consuming, almost vengeful, and for a moment he let it stir, but then his eyes turned to the sight of Vale rebuilding.

His steeled eyes glinting with determination and fury softened.

He smiled at the men and women of Vale collecting themselves.

Building their lives again no matter how grim things become.

They have hope.

"You're all doing great. Keep it up, Vale."

He was proud of them, and he hoped that he'd do them proud.

The winds around Jaune seems to pick up and for a moment he seems enveloped in a gust of wind carrying multi-colored leaves.

Then through those leaves, even for a moment, there stood a man in rusted armor, then it was just Jaune looking at Vale.

Arthur Watts stood in front of Salem. The Grimm Whale that had been battered down had already regenerated its flesh. For all the effort Ozpin's follower did, Salem simply

"Mistress."

"How was it?"

Arthur Watts began his report. "Today, I bring news of the one who has managed to stumble his way into prominence — Jaune Arc. I must admit, delivering this report requires a certain tolerance for the absurd, as Arc's naivety is boundless. Yet, it would be remiss not to acknowledge that his rise to relevance, though it still warrants our cautious observation."

"Is that so?" Salem leaned on her throne. Two hounds flanked her.

"His simplicity is both amusing and frustrating. To think that such an individual could have any influence is a testament to the idiocy of those around him. Arc's every move reeks of practiced inexperienced. He is the kind of individual who believes in the power of friendship and the inherent goodness of people. He fights with a resolve born not of strategy or strength, but of sheer, misplaced optimism. And yet, there is a certain... peculiarity to his presence. I don't think he should be underestimated… his work in the kingdoms speaks for itself on his competence."

Salem smirked. "Oh my, you seemed impressed, Doctor."

Arthur Watts's face was strange, calculating.

Salem's gaze remained fixed on Watts, her patience seemingly endless. "Continue."

"He managed to defy Ozpin," Watts continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "He had the audacity to challenge Ozpin's authority and, dare I say, succeeded in pushing him off his pedestal for a moment."

Salem's lips twitched imperceptibly, a hint of amusement playing across her face. "Interesting."

"Interesting indeed," Watts replied, his tone skeptical. "A man who can disrupt Ozpin's plans — even momentarily — must possess some latent ability. Though I assure you, my Queen, it is nothing we cannot handle."

Salem inclined her head ever so slightly. "Do not underestimate him, Doctor. Ozpin's interest in him speaks volumes of his competence and you said it yourself… he has made his work known."

Watts raised an eyebrow, but wisely held his tongue. He knew better than to question Salem's intuition.

"What are your thoughts on the matter?" Salem asked, her voice measured.

Watts hesitated for a moment, then spoke with a hint of reluctant respect. "Jaune Arc is a wild card. His potential is unpredictable, but his current skills are manageable at best. He could prove to be a nuisance. Despite his overwhelming absurdity, Jaune Arc has managed to achieve something remarkable — he has displaced Ozpin. This alone should be enough to raise an eyebrow, if not both. Underestimating this one could prove to be a fatal error. There is an unpredictable quality to Arc, an uncanny ability to rally those around him and to survive against the odds. It would be prudent to consider the implications of his recent actions. He has shown a resilience that is, frankly, baffling. His capability to influence others, to inspire them, even in his well-acted naivety, suggests that he may have a role to play in the unfolding events. A man who can oust Ozpin from his seat is not one to be dismissed outright."

Salem nodded thoughtfully. "Prepare for the meeting. I will see this Jaune Arc for myself."

Arthur, Cinder, and Tyrian exchanged glances as Salem's decision hung in the air. Arthur Watts spoke first. "Is that wise, my Queen? He may not be worth your time."

Salem turned her gaze to Arthur, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "There is value in understanding one's adversaries, no matter how insignificant they may seem. And I find it curious that someone would choose tea and biscuits over confrontation."

This peculiar behavior clearly has piqued her interest, but she remains confident that it will amount to nothing more than a temporary diversion. Watts saw it.

Salem's curiosity, however, should never be underestimated. What she sees in Arc was finding his approach amusing.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Cinder, always eager for conflict, smirked. "I could dispose of him swiftly if you wish, my Queen."

"Can you? I heard he has defeated Raven and Hazel and even slew a Grimm Dragon," Salem shook her head, her expression betraying a hint of disdain at Cinder's remarks.. "No. I will handle this personally. There is something about this that intrigues me."

Tyrian, ever the unpredictable wildcard, chuckled softly at his Queen's extreme confidence.

Salem's lips curled into a small smile. "Consider it an interlude, nothing more."

Watts, ever the pragmatic one, spoke up. "And after you're done with this Jaune Arc?"

Salem's smile turned vicious, a dangerous glint in her eye. She rose from her throne; the shadows seeming to bend around her like obedient servants. "After this brief interlude, we crush Ozpin. We take the Relics. And then... then my goal... will be achieved."

Watts nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "As you command, my Queen."

Salem turned to leave the chamber, her presence commanding and formidable. "Prepare everything. Our time is drawing near. I shall call my Grimm again and let's see if they can handle this one too."

Salem's eyes burned with a vicious intensity as she outlined the next steps.

Jaune Arc, in all his glory, was but a minor player in the grand scheme between her and Ozma.