Ruby sneezed loudly, for what felt like the hundredth time. The cold air was biting into her skin, and her nose was already turning red. "God, you're freezing," she muttered, shivering. "You're like an ice cube, Weiss."

Weiss Schnee, prim and proper as ever, shot her partner a sideways glare. "That's the fifth time in a row! Do you want to attract Grimm with all your sneezing?" Her voice was laced with irritation, like she couldn't believe she was stuck with this hyperactive child for a partner.

Ruby sniffled again, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "You're literally too cold! How do you exist in this weather?"

Weiss rolled her eyes, annoyed at the whining but also slightly amazed at Ruby's ability to complain while freezing. "We need to keep moving," she huffed, already marching ahead. "If we don't reach the rendezvous point soon—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the air around them shifted. The leaves rustled, louder and more violently than they should. Both girls stopped in their tracks, eyes darting around. And then they saw it—a massive, dark shadow above them, wings beating against the cold air with a powerful whoosh.

A Grimm. A giant bird, its black, feathered form cutting through the sky like a nightmare. Its crimson eyes gleamed with a hunger that promised destruction.

Weiss gritted her teeth. "Damn it. Of course."

The creature let out a piercing screech, diving toward them. Weiss was already moving, her rapier, Myrtenaster, in hand. "Ruby, get ready!" she barked, preparing to unleash her Glyphs.

Ruby was quick on the draw, Crescent Rose unfolding into its massive scythe form. "Right behind you, Weiss!" she called out, her voice filled with excitement despite the looming danger.

The bird swooped low, claws outstretched, trying to snatch them up like prey. Weiss moved with precision, summoning Glyphs beneath her feet, leaping high into the air. She landed on one of the branches, sending a series of rapid ice shards toward the creature. But the Grimm was fast, dodging them with terrifying ease.

Ruby took her shot next, spinning Crescent Rose with deadly accuracy, aiming for the bird's wings. The scythe cut through the air, its crimson blade gleaming, but the bird twisted at the last second, her attack barely grazing its wing.

"Come on!" Ruby grumbled. "Hold still, you stupid bird!"

The Grimm let out another screech, now more agitated. It came down again, faster this time, its talons gleaming like deadly hooks. Weiss barely had time to react, jumping back as its claws slammed into the ground where she had just been standing, ripping the earth apart.

"We can't keep this up!" Ruby shouted, breathing heavily. "It's too fast!"

Weiss, never one to give up easily, shook her head. "We've got this! Just—"

Suddenly, the bird lunged again, and this time, it was too close. Its claws swiped toward Weiss, and for a split second, her heart froze. She couldn't dodge. Not this time.

But then, out of nowhere, a blur appeared.

The bird let out a strangled cry, its massive form jerking mid-air as something slashed across its side. A boy—no, a blur of movement—had sliced the Grimm open with a sword. Not just any sword, though. This one looked wooden, strange, and utterly out of place. Yet, it had cut through the Grimm like it was butter.

Weiss blinked, trying to process what had just happened. The Grimm faltered in the air, then crashed to the ground, slowly dissolving into smoke.

The boy landed gracefully in front of them, standing tall with his long brown hair flowing behind him, and his honey-brown eyes sparkling. He grinned, a goofy, yet confident smile, like he had just done something spectacular—which he had.

"Hello there, Snowflakes," he said with a wink, his voice smooth and full of charm. But for some reason, Weiss's heart skipped a beat. His grin was goofy, sure, but to her, it suddenly seemed like the most handsome thing she had ever seen.

"Name's Johnathan Arnold.," the boy continued, clearly enjoying his moment. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it."

Ruby stood there, mouth open, clearly dumbfounded. "Who is this guy?" she muttered, leaning toward Weiss. "I think I've seen him before."

Weiss, on the other hand, felt herself blushing. What was wrong with her? She never blushed. She straightened up, trying to regain her composure. "Thank you for the assist, but we didn't need it," she said, her voice steady but her cheeks still warm.

"Don't mention it," the boy—who, of course, was Jaune Arc in one of his ridiculous transformation disguises—grinned wider, clearly loving the attention. Inside, Jaune's mind was racing. 'If I can score points with this beauty and talk my way to the Headmaster, then I'm golden!' he thought, all too pleased with his own genius.

Of course, Jaune being Jaune, had no idea how precarious his situation was. He had shapeshifted into this form on a whim, and now he was about to charm his way through something far more complicated than he bargained for.

"Well, anyway," 'Johnathan' said, looking casually over his shoulder. "I gotta get going. Dangerous night, you know?" He waved lazily, starting to turn away.

Weiss, still not quite over the shock of the whole thing, blurted out, "Wait! You… you saved me. I owe you." Yeah, that's right. That's a Schee's principal— never be indebted to anybody.

Jaune froze for a moment, panic flashing through his mind. This was not part of the plan. "Uh, yeah, about that," he stammered, scratching the back of his head. "No need to thank me! I just, uh, do what I do." He quickly started backing away, trying to escape before things got too awkward.

But Weiss wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. "Wait!" she called out again. "Aren't we teammates now?!"

"Uh… gotta go!" Jaune—still disguised—yelled back, turning on his heel and bolting like his life depended on it.

Ruby blinked, watching him disappear into the forest. "That guy was weird," she said, shaking her head.

Weiss, however, was still standing there, watching the spot where 'Johnathan Arnold.' had run off. She couldn't help but think there was something oddly familiar about him. But before she could dwell on it, Ruby grabbed her arm.

"Come on, Weiss! We've got Grimm to avoid!"

Weiss snapped out of her thoughts and followed her partner, but not before shooting one last glance into the trees.

—X~X—

Blake and Yang trudged side by side through the dense forest, the trees casting long shadows over the mossy ground. They'd already taken down three Beowolves, and the air was thick with the aftermath of battle—fur, blood, and the faint smell of dust from the Grimm's remains.

"You sure you're okay?" Blake asked, her voice casual but her eyes darting over to Yang with concern.

"Of course, I am!" Yang snapped, her voice laced with irritation.

Blake raised an eyebrow, giving Yang a long, skeptical look. Yang had her entire head and jaw wrapped in bandages like she'd just walked out of a mummification exhibit, and she was using a cane to keep herself upright. Not exactly what you'd expect from the unshakable Yang.

"I don't exactly know you, but… you look like you got hit by a truck or something," Blake muttered under her breath, though she was pretty sure Yang heard her.

Yang snorted, her lips twitching in annoyance. "Nah," she said, tightening her grip on the cane, "got hit by fucking Jaune Arc."

Blake blinked. Oh. That explained a lot. "Jaune did this?" Her voice was flat, more disbelief than anything. "You met him?!"

"Yeah," Yang grumbled, rolling her eyes dramatically. "The psychopath caught me off guard. And trust me, I'm never letting that happen again."

"Sounds like you didn't see it coming,"

Yang glared at her, huffing. "Yeah, well, he's a pervert! He groped my boob!"

Blake winced. Yikes. "I guess I'll need to watch out for him then," she said, half-joking but making a mental note. She couldn't help but wonder about Jaune. How could the same murderer, lunatic guy cause so much trouble?

"But, I mean, was he... strong?" Blake asked, carefully.

Yang grumbled something under her breath, her cane hitting the ground a little harder than necessary as they walked. "Tch."

Blake took that as a yes. "Shouldn't you be taking it easy?" she asked, eyeing Yang's bandages again. "I mean, given the state you're in, I thought you'd get a free pass."

Yang threw her head back and groaned. "You'd think, right? But no! I got some damn coffee mug and a hag of a witch-teacher to mess it all up. That's what I get for all my hard work!"

Blake frowned. "Sounds like it's that time of your month."

Yang shot her a withering look. "Yeah, girl. Yeah, it is."

Before Blake could respond with more sarcasm, the sound of rustling leaves made both girls freeze. They immediately took battle stances, weapons at the ready. Yang's eyes burned red, and Blake's ears twitched as she listened closely.

From the bushes emerged... a boy?

A guy with brown hair and a wooden sword strolled out like he was on a leisurely afternoon walk. The wind blew dramatically, catching his hair, sending it fluttering like he was some kind of fantasy hero. His lazy grin only added to the absurdity.

Blake blinked, feeling her face heat up for a second. 'What the hell?' she thought.

"Yo," the boy said, waving nonchalantly as if he hadn't just walked into two battle-ready huntresses.

—X~X—

Jaune, now deep in his 'Johnathan Arnold.' disguise, could feel the strain of maintaining his transformation. The henge was a lot harder to keep up than he had expected. All he wanted was to avoid trouble, maybe sneak by to figure out his next steps. Fate, however, clearly had other ideas.

Two girls stood in front of him, both looking ready to pummel him into the ground if he made any sudden moves. One had black hair and sharp amber eyes, and the other—oh crap. The other was the same girl who had attacked him back in Vale. And from the looks of it, she'd recently been in an accident. Well, considering her temper, it wasn't all that surprising.

The black-haired girl, Blake, lowered her weapon slightly, her curiosity piqued. "Are you a student candidate too?" she asked, her voice cautious but not hostile.

"Uh... sort of," Jaune said, scratching the back of his neck. "I was actually looking my way to meet with the principal."

Yang, the fiery blonde, wasn't having it. "What the hell does 'sort of' mean? Shouldn't you take the straight way then?" she growled. "Who the hell are you?"

Jaune raised a hand, trying to calm the situation. "Hey, I just wanna meet the principal. You know, Osborn? I wanted to kill some Grimm to impress him and help a few."

Both girls blinked at him in confusion. "His name is Ozpin," Yang corrected, her brow furrowing.

Jaune tilted his head. "Pretty sure it's Orwell."

Yang stared at him, her patience clearly running thin. "You're mentally compromised, aren't you?"

Jaune shot her a sincere, wide-eyed look that somehow came off more sarcastic than anything. "Nah, I'm just really bad with names," he said, shrugging. "But thanks for the concern!"

Yang opened her mouth to retort but stopped, completely thrown off by his response. Her brain just short-circuited.

Blake stepped in, trying to salvage the conversation. "If you're looking for the school, you'll want to head south. You'll hit the outer walls, and there should be a gate somewhere."

Jaune nodded, grateful. "Thanks." He turned to leave, but just as he started walking, Blake called out again.

"Wait. What's your name?"

The wind picked up again, catching his hair just right. His honey-brown eyes gleamed as he turned back to face them. "Johnathan Arnold," he said, his voice dripping with charisma.

Then—POOF! A cloud of smoke engulfed him.

"Crap—!"

For a brief moment, both girls caught a glimpse of blond hair through the smoke before 'Johnathan Arnold' vanished into thin air.

Blake stared at where he had stood, her mind processing what had just happened. "He's... weird," she muttered, shaking her head.

Yang, still fuming, tapped her cane against the ground. "Yeah, yeah. Let's move on. I don't wanna talk about it."

—X~X—

Nora Valkyrie, in all her bubbly, sugar-induced glory, was dragging a half-asleep Lie Ren through the thick forest like a kid on a mission to find the last hidden cookie. Her grip on his wrist was borderline crushing, and Ren, in his infinite patience, just let it happen. There was no point in resisting Nora when she was in one of her determined moods. It was like trying to stop a freight train with a rubber band.

"We're almost there, Ren!" Nora announced, as if she had some sort of sixth sense for knowing where the objective was. The objective, of course, being the mysterious relics they were supposed to retrieve during this wild Initiation process. And if they didn't, well, they weren't exactly sure what would happen, but they assumed it was bad.

Ren blinked, still groggy, glancing around. "Are you sure we're close? Because everything looks the same. Trees. Trees. More trees."

Nora giggled. "You say that every time we're on an adventure! Trust me, my Ren-dar is never wrong!"

"Ren-dar?"

"Yup! Ren-radar. Ren-dar!" She winked, proud of her Nora Logic. Ren had long since learned that arguing with Nora's strange sense of reasoning was like playing chess with a squirrel—chaotic and ultimately pointless.

As they pushed through the dense brush, something—or rather, someone—appeared ahead of them in the clearing. A figure with flowing red hair, standing there like an action hero who had just landed from a superhero jump. She was adjusting her shield, looking graceful and poised, as if she'd been waiting for them for hours.

Ren blinked. Nora, of course, had no such moment of hesitation. She raced forward.

"Oh my gosh, it's the Champion! The Pyrrha Nikos!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling like she'd just spotted a celebrity in a grocery store.

Pyrrha blinked at the enthusiasm but smiled politely. "Hello there."

Nora skidded to a halt, throwing Ren in front of her like a sales pitch. "I'm Nora, this is Ren. We're together!"

Ren, who was half expecting to be trampled by Nora's exuberance, quickly added, "We're not 'together' together, just... together." He waved his hand in the universal 'please don't make this awkward' gesture.

Pyrrha tilted her head in confusion, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. "I see." Her voice was calm, composed, but there was a glint in her eyes that said, 'This is going to be fun.'

"Well, why don't we work together, then?" she offered, adjusting the weight of her shield, 'Akouo', on her arm. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Nora pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! Team NORA-PYR-REN! To victory!"

Ren sighed softly. "That doesn't make any sense."

But it was too late. They were 'officially' a team.

As they continued toward their goal, Pyrrha leading with Nora bouncing around beside her, they suddenly heard a loud screech above them. The sky darkened as a huge shadow passed over. Pyrrha's eyes widened, recognizing the sound instantly.

"A Nevermore!" she shouted, drawing 'Milo' and transforming it into a spear.

A massive black-feathered Grimm descended from the treetops, its wings creating gusts that made the trees sway like they were made of rubber. The bird's glowing red eyes locked onto the group, and without warning, it dove straight at them, claws extended.

Ren immediately fired his Stormflower guns, sending a flurry of bullets toward the creature's wings. Nora, always the one to get up close and personal, leaped into the air, swinging her giant hammer, 'Magnhild', with a wild grin.

"Come on, birdie! Time for a Nora-sized headache!" she yelled, swinging at the Nevermore's talons. The force of her strike sent it careening off course, but it wasn't enough to bring it down.

Pyrrha sprinted forward, launching her spear with pinpoint accuracy, but the Nevermore twisted in the air, dodging at the last second. The fight was frantic—blasts of energy, the swing of weapons, feathers falling like confetti—but despite their individual strength, the group was struggling. Their attacks lacked coordination, and the Nevermore's size and speed were proving to be a serious problem.

Ren was moving fast, trying to draw the bird's attention with precise shots, but in the chaos, he miscalculated. The Nevermore dove toward him, its claws ready to snatch him off the ground like prey.

Just as the Grimm's talons were about to close in on him, a white blur shot out of the woods. A sword gleamed in the sunlight, slicing clean through the Nevermore in one swift motion. Feathers exploded everywhere, like someone had popped a giant pillow.

Ren blinked. "What the—?"

Standing there, looking entirely too casual for someone who just decimated a giant Grimm, was a boy with messy brown hair and a wooden sword strapped to his back. He lazily turned around, flashing a goofy grin.

"Yo," he said, waving like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Nora, ever the ball of energy, practically tackled the boy. "We found our fourth member!" she squealed, shaking him so hard that his hair flopped back and forth like a ragdoll's.

The boy blinked, clearly dizzy from the Nora Hurricane. "W-wait, what?"

But something was off. Just as Nora was shaking him, a sudden 'poof' of smoke engulfed him, and before anyone could blink, the brown-haired boy was gone. Standing in his place was none other than…

Jaune Arc.

Nora let out a startled yelp, leaping backward like she'd touched a live wire. 'Ahh! It's...'

Pyrrha took a step back too, instinctively raising her shield, though her hand was shaking ever so slightly. "Impossible...!"

Jaune, completely oblivious to his transformation mishap, placed a hand on his chest and spoke in a deep, theatrical voice. "Fear not. I know you desire nothing more than a torch of truth by your side, but I simply cannot. Not now, not yet. There are people who are looking at me with hopeful gaze. I must do the right thing, right here, right now."

Everyone blinked.

"Though fate has crossed our paths today, I have a greater cause that pulls me away. But perhaps... one day... we shall fight side by side for the glory of truth and justice!"

His tone was so over-the-top dramatic, it was almost impressive. He was clearly delivering lines he had practiced for hours in front of a mirror. To him, this was his hero moment. To them, it sounded like the monologue of a anime villain.

Nora, still hiding behind Ren, whispered, "Is he... giving a bad guy speech?"

"Sounds like it," Ren sighed.

Pyrrha, trying to remain composed, finally found her voice. "Why… why did you save Ren?"

Jaune flashed a deep, almost disturbingly sincere smile. "In Remnant, those who abandon their missions are scum, but those who abandon the needy are worse than scum."

Everyone froze, staring at him like he'd just spoken in ancient Remnish. To him, it was a hero talk, to them, it was antagonist principles.

"Anyways," Jaune continued, snapping back to his usual awkward self, "I have to go talk to the Principal. What was his name again? Orpin?"

Ren deadpanned. "You mean Ozpin?"

Jaune snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Okpin. Anyways, stay true to yourselves, fellows." He raised his hand in a dramatic farewell, before launching himself into the air with a completely unnecessary front flip, vanishing into the woods.

Nora blinked several times, her brain struggling to catch up. "Wow."

Pyrrha, still gripping her shield, finally broke the silence. "What the fuck just happened?"

Ren sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I think we just got saved by a world-class terrorist."

—X~X—

Meanwhile, in the Beacon Academy control room, Glynda Goodwitch stared at the screen, her face pale. She turned to the group of teachers standing behind her, their eyes wide in disbelief.

"We need to level up Principal Ozpin's security. Now."

Ozpin, who had been sipping his coffee calmly this entire time, sighed. "Glynda, I really think Jaune just wants to talk—"

"Mr. Ozpin!" Glynda interrupted, pulling a suit of armor out of the closet. "We can't risk it! Put this on. Now."

Ozpin stared at the clunky, uncomfortable-looking armor and sighed deeply, muttering under his breath, "What the Salem..."

—X~X—

"Breaking News!

Hold onto your hats, folks, because the legendary psychopath Jaune Arc has struck again. That's right, 'The Wooden Demon' himself decided that today was a great day to go on a murderous joyride through Beacon Academy. Eyewitnesses, who are probably still in therapy, claim that he took down several students in the forest, all because—get this—he didn't like their ideals or, heaven forbid, their faces. Yes, apparently Jaune Arc is now a fashion critic from hell who's ready to 'end you' if you don't pass his vibe check.

But wait, it gets better. As if the student massacre wasn't enough, Jaune thought, "Why not top it off with a little assassination?" His target? The one and only Principal Ozpin. Now, did our fearless leader survive? Did Jaune succeed in adding 'principal killer' to his growing resume of atrocities? Well, that's the million-lien question. We don't know yet because 'everything's confidential', which probably means it's really, really bad. But fear not! We're all waiting with bated breath for a press conference tomorrow evening where we'll either find out if Ozpin's sipping tea or if Jaune's busy picking out new wallpaper for the Headmaster's office.

Now, for the real shocker. Brace yourselves. The 'Jaune Arc Official Fan Group' on social media has ballooned overnight! Yes, apparently being a psychotic, bloodthirsty lunatic gets you fans these days. People are lining up to join his twisted parade of crazy, and frankly, I feel bad for them. These poor, confused souls think they're signing up for a hero's journey, but they're really just applying for the most chaotic cult in existence. Someone please send them a reality check.

This has been Liza Lavender, bringing you the latest on 'Jaune Arc: The Wooden Demon'. Stay safe out there, folks. And for the love of Remnant, avoid eye contact with Jaune Arc. Or wear a mask. Just in case he has some sort of hypnotizing ability too!"

TBC

Author Note: I love your reviews. They motive me a lot! Do drop your thoughts in the review section. Tell me what you want.

Till next time!