Chapter 1: DEATH IS (NOT) THE END - 1

Description:

Jaune Arc died during his fall, only to awaken in an afterlife far different from what he ever imagined. Instead of peace, he finds himself in Soul Society, a realm of spirits governed by the powerful Gotei 13. Now, the young Huntsman must adapt to this strange new world, learning the ways of Soul Reapers and mastering unfamiliar powers. As he navigates the challenges of his new existence, Jaune will need to grow stronger quickly—because danger is already lurking on the horizon, threatening the very heart of the Seireitei. Will he be ready when it arrives?

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Jaune staggered, and as he collapsed over the edge of the platform and into the void, his eyes drifted downward to the deep gash in his stomach—the wound Cinder had dealt him. It wasn't meant for him, though; it was meant for Penny.

He had thrown himself into the path of that deadly strike, saving her.

As the pain flared, Jaune's mind flickered back to that moment, to the shock on Cinder's face when Weiss had severed the Grimm arm she'd grafted onto herself.

Cinder's fury and desperation as she reached for the Winter Maiden's powers, only to fail—Jaune couldn't help but chuckle despite the agony coursing through his body. It was a small, bitter victory, but one that brought a fleeting sense of pride.

He didn't hold too much anger about what was happening to him. He had done something that mattered. Penny's life was far more important than his own, and she had the Winter Maiden's powers. They had all fought so hard to keep her safe. He couldn't let Cinder walk away with her powers, not after everything they had done to stop her. His death—his sacrifice—was a price worth paying if it meant denying Cinder that satisfaction. He just wished he had more time.

"Nora and Ren are gonna be so pissed at me..." Jaune muttered weakly as his body began to lose its fight. His voice trembled with a mixture of regret and sorrow. "Damn it..."

As he continued to fall, Jaune's thoughts drifted to Ren, Nora, Oscar—all of them. His heart ached. He was angry, not just at Cinder, but at himself. He was leaving them behind, abandoning them to fight the battles they should have been fighting together. They had already lost so much, and now they would lose him too. He didn't want them to mourn another teammate, didn't want to add to their grief.

But this was it.

He had made his choice, and now they would have to live with it.

He only hoped they would understand. He would rather it be him than Penny. Cinder would never get her hands on the Winter Maiden's power—not as long as Jaune Arc had anything to say about it.

The world around him began to blur, the edges of his vision darkening. It felt like everything was slipping away. Then, just as the darkness threatened to consume him entirely, something unexpected happened.

A flash.

White.

Pure and blinding.

Everything faded into nothingness, and in that moment of silence, Jaune felt a strange sensation... like the world itself had shifted around him.

Suddenly, the world around Jaune shifted. The bridge, the endless black void he had been falling through, disappeared. In its place was a brilliant blue sky stretching above him, vast and endless. The warmth of the sun had kissed his skin, but his body was still frozen in agony. He tried to move, but the searing pain in his stomach was overwhelming. His muscles felt weak and unresponsive, and the deep wound Cinder had given him still throbbed with every shallow breath. He could barely keep his eyes open as they slowly drifted around, taking in his surroundings.

He wasn't on a bridge anymore, nor falling through a void. Instead, he lay at the bottom of a large crater, its jagged edges looming above him. The earth beneath him felt rough, as though some massive force had slammed him into the ground, leaving him buried within this hollow.

"W-Where...?" Jaune croaked, his voice a fragile rasp that barely escaped his lips.

Before he could process anything, figures began to materialize at the edge of the crater. One by one, they appeared out of thin air, like shadows converging from nothingness. They moved with unnatural speed and precision, their forms blending into the scenery with an effortless grace that Jaune could barely comprehend. Ninjas. That was the only word that came to mind as he watched them appear, clad in dark, sleek attire that concealed their features and weapons.

"What the hell!? It's a man!" one of the ninjas shouted, their voice tinged with shock.

"Are you serious!? A man!? How did he get here?" another voice called out, deeper and more gruff, their tone laced with disbelief.

"How did he get past the Shakonmaku!? He should have been dust!" a third voice chimed in—this one younger, feminine, and incredulous.

Jaune wanted to speak, to ask what the "Shakonmaku" was, but every attempt to breathe sent fresh waves of pain shooting through his body. His vision flickered, the world around him blurring in and out as if it were slipping away again.

One of the ninjas moved closer, leaning in to get a better look at him. Their masked face hovered near Jaune's, their eyes narrowing as they examined his clothing with confusion. "Where did he come from?" they muttered, more to themselves than to the others. Then, their gaze shifted downward, finally noticing the bloody wound in Jaune's stomach. "Hey! He's injured! We need to get him to the Fourth, now!" the ninja shouted, their voice filled with urgency.

One of the ninjas, who seemed to be in charge, stepped forward and addressed the rest of the group with authority. Their posture was rigid, and their voice carried the weight of command.

"We're taking him with us!" the leader ordered, scanning the faces of their comrades. "One of you, get back to the Captain immediately and report what we found!"

"Yes, sir!" came the immediate response from one of the ninjas, their voice sharp with urgency. Without hesitation, they vanished in a blur of motion, disappearing into the distance as if they had melted into the wind.

Jaune's vision began to swim, his surroundings spiraling in and out of focus. His strength was nearly gone, the pain from his stomach wound gnawing at him like fire. The effort to keep his eyes open became unbearable as the world around him grew darker, edges fading into shadow. He tried to hold on, to stay awake, but his body betrayed him.

The last thing he felt before his senses finally slipped away was the sensation of strong hands lifting him from the ground.

The pressure of his body being shifted, the gentle sway as he was carried—he was moving, but not under his own power. A strange mixture of relief and helplessness washed over him, and as the darkness closed in, the world faded completely, leaving him in a void of nothingness.

There, in the silence of his mind, Jaune could only wonder what awaited him when—or if—he woke again.

Less than an hour had passed before a captain's meeting of the Gotei 13 was called. The atmosphere was tense, heavy with the weight of urgency. All thirteen captains were present, their figures standing in a solemn semi-circle beneath the towering walls of the meeting chamber. Among them were the newly reinstated captains—Shinji Hirako, Rōjūrō "Rose" Otoribashi, and Kensei Muguruma—each wearing their captain's haori once again, their faces a mixture of focus and anticipation.

At the head of the room, seated with the authority of centuries of leadership, was the Captain-Commander of the 1st Division, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto.

The captains waited, the air thick with unspoken tension, for Yamamoto to speak. They knew that whatever had prompted such a swift gathering would not be trivial. Something had happened, something that demanded their immediate attention.

Yamamoto surveyed the room, his eyes sweeping over the gathered captains with the calm authority that had guided the Gotei 13 for centuries. His voice was deep and resonant as he began, "I have summoned you all here because earlier today, the 2nd Division detected an anomaly—a breach in the Shakonmaku,"

The room fell into a hushed silence, the significance of what Yamamoto had said sinking in. The Shakonmaku, the spiritual barrier that protected the Soul Society, was nearly impenetrable, designed to incinerate anything that attempted to cross it.

Shinji Hirako, standing with his arms loosely crossed, tilted his head in confusion. "Something passed through the Shakonmaku and wasn't burned up?" His tone held a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Yamamoto gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Yes, what passed through crash-landed directly on Sōkyoku Hill, a team from the Stealth Force was dispatched to investigate the impact, and what they discovered was... peculiar—a wounded young man clad in white and gold armor,"

The shock that rippled through the room was immediate. Several captains exchanged glances, their brows furrowing in disbelief. The Shakonmaku was virtually impenetrable—how could a single person survive passage through it?

One captain remained composed amid the growing murmur: Retsu Unohana. Her serene demeanor didn't shift, but beneath her calm expression, she held knowledge the others did not—she had already laid eyes on the mysterious young man and had personally overseen his treatment.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi's eyes gleamed with fascination, his lips curling into a sharp smile. "A single man bypassed the Shakonmaku? Oh... how very interesting," he mused, his voice tinged with a mixture of intrigue and malice. He seemed already to be plotting what kinds of experiments might be conducted on this strange newcomer.

Byakuya Kuchiki, ever composed, was the next to speak. "Do we know where this man came from?" His voice was measured, but the question held the weight of an unspoken concern.

It was Soi-Fon who answered, her expression stoic but with an edge of tension in her voice. "The young man was severely wounded and in obvious pain when my division found him. He lost consciousness shortly after they began transporting him to Squad 4 for medical treatment."

Byakuya's gaze shifted to Unohana, his expression unreadable. "Has he awoken yet, Captain Unohana?"

Unohana shook her head gently, her expression calm as always. "No, Captain Kuchiki, he remains unconscious," she replied, her voice soft yet clear.

Byakuya's eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful. "I see," he said quietly, his voice betraying a trace of concern. "And is he being guarded? We can't afford to overlook the possibility that he may be a threat,"

Unohana nodded, her composure unshaken. "Yes, My lieutenant, Isane, is keeping watch over him," she confirmed. Her tone carried a quiet reassurance, though she, too, understood the potential danger this mysterious stranger could pose.

Byakuya made a faint sound of acknowledgment, his sharp gaze flickering. He didn't like the idea of an unknown individual being loose within the Seireitei, especially so soon after the war with Aizen. The scars of that conflict were still fresh, and there was no room for complacency.

Kensei Muguruma, standing with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, was the next to speak. "So, we're stuck waiting until he wakes up to get any answers," he grumbled. "Was he armed when they found him?"

Soi-Fon, leader of the Stealth Force, shook her head. "No, there was no weapon on him," She replied. "Nothing that would suggest he was prepared for battle," she responded, her voice clipped.

Shinji Hirako, standing with a lazy yet alert posture, frowned. "So we don't know where he's from, we don't know how he got through the Shakonmaku, and we've got no idea what he wants... I don't like this," he said, his tone reflecting his growing unease.

"Neither do I," Toshiro Hitsugaya agreed, his youthful face betraying the stern focus of someone far older.

Jūshirō Ukitake, always the voice of reason, looked toward his fellow captains with a calm, measured gaze. "I understand your concerns, Captain Hirako and Captain Hitsugaya," Ukitake began, his tone soothing yet firm. "It has only been three months since the war with Aizen, and tensions remain high, but we must not be too hasty... We don't know if this young man is a threat, and if we assume the worst too quickly, we may never get the answers we need—answers about who he is and how he arrived,"

Shunsui Kyōraku, agreed his longtime friend, and gave a slow nod, adjusting his straw hat slightly as he spoke. "Captain Ukitake makes a good point," Shunsui said, his casual tone masking the seriousness of his words. "If we treat him like an enemy from the start, we might push him into becoming one, it's better to show him some hospitality—at least until we know more about him,"

"What shall we do when he wakes up?" Mayuri asked, his voice dripping with barely concealed eagerness, as if already plotting his own twisted experiments.

Yamamoto, seated at the head of the room, turned his sharp gaze toward the 12th Division captain. His tone was steady, firm. "When he wakes, Captain Unohana and Soi-Fon will bring him directly to me. I will question him myself to obtain the information we need." His words left no room for ambiguity. "After I have finished, he will be brought before Central 46. They will question him further, and together, we will decide his fate."

Mayuri rolled his eyes, a faint scowl crossing his face. He had hoped for the chance to interrogate—and, if circumstances allowed, experiment on—the mysterious young man who had bypassed the Shakonmaku. The thought of studying such an anomaly intrigued him to no end, but Yamamoto's decision left little room for Mayuri's brand of "inquiry."

Yamamoto, unperturbed by Mayuri's clear disappointment, tapped his cane twice against the floor, signaling the end of the meeting. "You are all dismissed until our guest wakes."

The sound of shuffling feet followed as the twelve other captains bowed slightly before making their way out of the chamber. Some left quietly, lost in their own thoughts, while others exchanged brief glances, considering the implications of what had been discussed. The tension in the room lingered, though it gradually began to fade as the captains exited.

All except one.

Unohana remained behind, standing still as the door closed softly behind the others. Her usually serene expression was blank, though something unreadable flickered in her eyes as she looked toward the Captain-Commander. She lingered for a moment before stepping forward.

Yamamoto noticed her lingering presence and raised a bushy brow, his deep eyes locking onto hers. "Is something the matter, Retsu?" he asked, his tone gentler than it had been moments before when addressing the other captains. Unohana was an old friend, one of the few who had been with him since the very beginning.

"The boy... he's not a regular human," Unohana began, her voice calm but edged with a rare note of uncertainty. "There's a barrier surrounding his entire body—one we've been unable to penetrate, it makes it difficult for us to physically touch him, and yet, this barrier has been slowly healing his wounds, even alongside our Kido treatments, what's more, it's active even while he remains unconscious,"

Yamamoto, listening intently, frowned slightly but didn't interrupt. Unohana's insight was always invaluable, and when she spoke with such a tone, it was best to listen.

"This power..." Unohana continued, her eyes dark with thought. "I've never felt anything like it before, not even from someone as unique as Orihime Inoue."

Yamamoto's eyebrows furrowed. Orihime Inoue was a human whose healing abilities bordered on miraculous. For Unohana to compare this mysterious boy's power to hers meant that something far more unusual was at play. But Unohana wasn't finished.

"And yet, that is not the strangest thing," she added, her expression turning more serious.

"Hm?" Yamamoto inclined his head slightly, urging her to continue.

"When the boy arrived," Unohana said slowly, "He had no trace of Reiryoku—none whatsoever, his spiritual energy was completely nonexistent... But just before I left him to attend this meeting, I sensed something changing, he began to generate Reiryoku at an alarming rate, it started out faint, but it quickly grew, almost as if he were absorbing spiritual energy from the environment,"

Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, understanding the weight of her words. "Are you suggesting that he may be like that Quincy boy, Ishida?"

Unohana shook her head firmly. "No, there was no sign of a Quincy cross on his person, nor any report of one at the scene," She replied. "A Quincy's power is inherent, tied to their ability to manipulate Reishi, this boy is different... For someone to bypass the Shakonmaku with no Reiryoku at all, remain unharmed, and then begin to generate spiritual energy out of thin air... it is unheard of, even by the standards of the worlds we know,"

Yamamoto opened one of his eyes fully, a rare display of deep concern. His voice, though measured, carried an edge of seriousness. "What are you suggesting, Retsu?"

Unohana's gaze darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line as she met Yamamoto's eyes directly. "What I'm saying, Genryūsai, is that I believe this young man is not of this world... or any world we are familiar with... He may not be human, nor Quincy, nor any of the beings we've encountered before,"

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with implication. Yamamoto sat in deep thought, considering what this could mean. A being who could pass through the spiritual defenses of the Soul Society with no detectable energy, only to begin gathering it later, was more than just an anomaly—it was a potential threat or, at the very least, a mystery that could shift the balance of power.

"If this boy is not from our world," Yamamoto said slowly, "then where or what is he?"

Unohana's serious expression did not waver. "That is what we must find out," she replied. "But I fear that whatever answers we uncover, they may lead us down a path none of us are prepared for,"

Yamamoto leaned back slightly, the weight of her words settling in. The Soul Society had seen many strange occurrences over the centuries, but something about this was different...

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Before he even opened his eyes, Jaune became aware of hushed voices around him. His mind drifted in and out of the conversation, the words slightly muffled as if filtered through water, but distinct enough to make out.

"Has he woken up yet?" The first voice was soft, almost nurturing, with an air of wisdom that reminded Jaune of a motherly figure.

"Not yet, Captain," came the response, equally gentle, but younger in tone, as if the speaker was accustomed to following orders with precision.

"I see," the older voice mused, pausing briefly. "How are his wounds?"

"Completely healed, Captain," the younger voice replied, sounding mildly impressed. "Though, I suspect he'll be sore for a few days."

"Fully healed?" The older voice sounded intrigued. "Was it the barrier surrounding him, or our Kido that did the work?"

"A bit of both, Captain," came the answer, the tone calm but contemplative.

The words began to register in Jaune's mind, pulling him further from the fog of unconsciousness. His body felt heavy, and despite the healing mentioned, there was still an underlying soreness that made his muscles stiff. He let out a low, involuntary groan as he fully regained consciousness. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, the room swimming in a blur of soft whites and grays. As his vision gradually sharpened, the talking stopped abruptly, and he could sense the attention of the speakers shift toward him.

Jaune squinted, trying to make out the figures around him. They were dressed in white and black, their forms still a little fuzzy. He instinctively tried to sit up, his body tensing as he pushed against the bed beneath him. A sharp jolt of pain radiated from his stomach, causing him to wince.

"Please, do not strain yourself," came the gentle yet firm voice of the second woman. As she approached Jaune, she placed her hands on his shoulders and chest, preventing him from sitting up. "You were badly injured when you were brought to us,"

Jaune, feeling the pressure of her hands and the weight of exhaustion on his body, reluctantly stopped his attempt to rise and eased back down onto the bed. His vision, still foggy from the pain and disorientation, finally cleared. That's when he saw her clearly for the first time.

Even bent slightly over him, it was obvious she was tall, and as much as Jaune hated to admit it, the first thing he noticed was how well-endowed she was, but he quickly diverted his focus, what struck him more was her composed demeanor.

Her gray eyes held a certain wisdom, sharp yet caring, as if she had seen countless battles and injuries yet still maintained an air of serenity. Her short, messy silver hair framed her face in loose, uneven strands, the right side styled with two thin braids that draped down to her shoulder, while two more were tied at the back of her head. They added a quiet elegance to her appearance, softened by the two thin red earrings that dangled from each ear, catching the light when she moved.

Jaune's gaze moved to the distinctive uniform she wore, it was a black shihakushō, and he noticed a badge wrapped around her left arm, proudly displaying her rank as a Lieutenant.

This woman was Isane Kotetsu, Lieutenant of Squad 4.

Her touch, though firm, was gentle. She had the air of someone well-versed in caring for the wounded, a healer with a warrior's edge. Her hands lingered on his chest for a moment as if making sure he wouldn't try to sit up again.

"Where... am I?" Jaune rasped, his throat dry as sandpaper.

"You're safe," the older voice responded gently, stepping into clearer view.

He looked to see none other than Unohana, who had been first voice.

"You're in the care of the 4th Division of the Gotei 13," Unohana told him.

'Gotei 13?' Jaune asked himself. The words meant nothing to Jaune, his head swimming with confusion.

His gaze darted between the two figures. He hadn't heard of any "Gotei" or "4th division" and the mention of Kido made him even more uncertain. This wasn't Atlas, and it definitely wasn't Vacuo.

"You're in Soul Society," Unohana told him, noticing his bewildered expression. "You were brought here after you crashed on Sōkyoku Hill,"

Jaune's heartbeat quickened, but he swallowed back the surge of anxiety. He had so many questions, but none of them seemed to want to come out at once.

He was alive—somehow.

He was alive and in a strange place, surrounded by strangers who were speaking in terms he didn't understand.

"You were in critical condition when we found you," Unohana said gently. "But you are healing well, It may take time to fully recover your strength, but you will be fine,"

Jaune took a slow breath, trying to piece it all together. "How... long?" he asked weakly.

"You've been unconscious for 8 hours," the Captain replied softly. "When we found you, your stomach had been pierced deeply by five sharp objects, and you were breathing badly, however, that small strange barrier around you had seemingly protected you as you fell, kept you alive until you arrived here, even when your Reiryoku was nearly nonexistent,"

"Barrier?" Jaune murmured, his brow furrowing. "Do... do you mean my Aura?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

Unohana's eyes softened with curiosity. "Is that what you call it?" she asked, her tone calm yet probing.

Jaune nodded, feeling a bit more grounded now that he was talking about something familiar. "Yeah... it's something all Huntsmen have, a kind of protective shield made from our soul," he replied. "Do... Do you not know what Aura is?"

Unohana gave a slight nod, her face thoughtful. "We are aware of many forms of spiritual energy," she replied, her voice measured. "But Aura is not a term we have ever used here... Do you know what Reiryoku is?"

Jaune shook his head slowly, still groggy but growing more alert. "No, I've never heard of it," Jaune told her. "What is it?" he asked.

Unohana's gaze sharpened slightly, a flicker of suspicion crossing her calm expression. She wasn't expecting such an innocent answer. If this boy had no knowledge of Reiryoku, the spiritual power that governed everything in the Soul Society, then his origins were even more mysterious than she had first suspected. She decided to continue her line of questioning, her curiosity deepening.

"Tell me, where are you from, young man?" Unohana asked, her tone steady but intent.

"Where I'm from?" Jaune repeated, blinking as he tried to focus through the lingering fog in his head. "I'm from Vale, it's a kingdom... on Remnant." His voice trailed off as he studied her face, hoping for a flicker of recognition.

"Vale," Unohana said slowly, the unfamiliar word lingering on her tongue. "Is that a place in the world of the living?"

"The world of the living...?" Jaune's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine. His eyes widened, and panic started to creep in. "Wh-What do you mean "world of the living"? Am I... am I dead!?"

He sat up quickly despite the pain in his stomach, his pulse racing as fear overtook him. The room seemed to close in around him as the implications of her words sank in. His thoughts raced—dead? That couldn't be right. He was here! He could feel! He could breathe! There was no way he could be dead!

Unohana, calm as ever, didn't answer immediately. She simply watched him, her expression composed but unreadable, her silence only fueling his panic.

Jaune's breath quickened. "Am I dead?" he repeated, his voice trembling as he looked around, searching for any sign that this was all some kind of twisted dream. The sterile room, the strange uniforms, the talk of barriers and spiritual energy—it all felt too surreal.

Unohana's gaze softened as she looked at the boy lying before her, a mix of pity and sorrow flickering across her face. She knew the weight of what she was about to say would crush him, and yet, there was no easy way to deliver the truth.

"Yes, I'm afraid you are," she finally replied, her voice gentle but firm. She continued watching the confusion deepen in Jaune's eyes. "Otherwise, you would not be here in Soul Society,"

Jaune's breath caught in his throat, and his world seemed to tilt off its axis. "No..." he whispered, his voice cracking as the word left his lips. His mind raced, scrambling to deny what he had just heard, to reject the finality of it. "That... that can't be right," he stammered.

His heart pounded in his chest, the reality beginning to sink in. He wasn't dreaming. This wasn't some strange illusion conjured by his enemies. The sterile room, the calm, patient expression of the woman standing over him—it was all real. Too real.

Unohana stepped closer, her footsteps barely audible on the cold floor. She crouched down beside him, her hands resting on her knees as she spoke with the practiced care of someone who had delivered such news countless times before. "I know it's difficult to comprehend," she said softly, her voice like a balm to his raw, aching mind. "But the fact that you are here, in Soul Society, means that your life in the world of the living, where ever world you came from, has ended,"

Jaune's hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of his sheets as though holding on to it would somehow ground him, anchor him to his old reality. His mind was racing, struggling to piece together how it could have happened. He remembered the battle—Cinder, the flash of light, the fall. But death? He didn't feel dead. His body was still here, wasn't it? His heart was still beating... wasn't it?

"This doesn't make sense, I'm not... I don't feel dead," he said, his voice trembling. He lifted his trembling hands as if to prove to himself he was still whole, still there. "My body, it's... it's still here... How can I be dead?"

Unohana let out a soft sigh, her usual composed demeanor shifting briefly as the weight of the situation lingered in the air. "I'm afraid the full explanation will have to wait," she said gently, her eyes meeting Jaune's with a touch of empathy. "For now, the Captain Commander and Central 46 have questions that must be answered,"

Jaune's brow furrowed, still processing everything she had told him. There were more questions swirling in his mind than he could even put into words, but before he could speak, Unohana turned toward her lieutenant.

"Isane," Unohana began, her voice regaining its professional tone, "Please inform Captain Soi-Fon and the Captain Commander that our guest has woken, I will escort him to the 1st Division shortly,"

Isane bowed her head obediently. "Yes, Captain," she replied, her voice soft but steady.

Without hesitation, she turned and moved to send a Hell Butterfly, but as she passed through the doorway, she cast one last glance back at the young man lying in the infirmary bed. Her heart weighed heavy with sympathy as she saw the mix of confusion, sadness, and fear etched into his features. Isane couldn't help but feel for him—a stranger in a world he never asked to be in, burdened with the knowledge of his death.

Jaune lay still, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to grasp this new reality that was being forced upon him. The words "dead" and "Soul Society" felt foreign, as if they were part of someone else's story, not his. He had always been the one fighting to protect others, the one who kept going despite the odds. But now... it seemed fate had other plans for him.

Unohana watched him closely, reading the troubled expression on his face. She had seen that look countless times in souls who had recently crossed over, but something about this young man told her his story was far from ordinary. She knew she needed to ease his mind before his journey through this new world truly began.

"If I may ask, what is your name, young man?" Unohana said softly, stepping closer to the bedside.

Her voice cut through Jaune's racing thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. He blinked, slightly startled by the question, but quickly found his voice. "Jaune," he replied quietly. "Jaune Arc,"

Unohana offered him a small, warm smile, hoping to calm the storm she could sense within him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jaune Arc," she said, her tone gentle. "I am Retsu Unohana, captain of the 4th Division,"

Jaune, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him, instinctively forced a polite smile onto his face. His upbringing kicked in, his sense of duty and manners refusing to let him fall completely into despair. "It's... nice to meet you, Captain Unohana," he replied, his voice strained but sincere.

Unohana hummed softly in response, her eyes observing Jaune with quiet interest. Deciding to shift the conversation to a more immediate concern, she asked gently, "Are you still feeling sore from your wounds?"

Jaune, before answering, glanced down at his stomach. He could still feel the dull ache lingering, but he instinctively pushed some of his Aura into the area, a small pulse of energy that worked to ease the pain. It wasn't perfect, but it made a difference. Looking back up at Unohana, he offered a small smile, hoping to mask the discomfort. "No, I'm good," he replied.

Unohana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "I see," she responded thoughtfully. "Tell me, Jaune—are you using that Aura of yours to alleviate the pain?"

Jaune nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah," he admitted. "It's a trick I picked up from a friend, helps in a pinch,"

Unohana hummed again, her curiosity about this "Aura" growing. She was intrigued by its properties, particularly how it functioned alongside her division's healing methods. There was much to learn, but for now, she had other matters to attend to. "Interesting," she said, tucking the thought away for later. "Do you believe you're strong enough to walk?"

Jaune shifted slightly in the bed, testing his muscles. There was still soreness, but with the help of his Aura, he felt confident. "Yeah," he nodded. "I think I can manage,"

Unohana nodded approvingly. "Very well, If you're feeling capable, I would like you to get up and follow me to the 1st Division, The Captain Commander is expecting us,"

Jaune moved to sit up but paused, glancing at her with a hesitant expression. "Uh, aren't you gonna... you know, put me in cuffs or something?" he asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Unohana's expression softened into one of amused curiosity. A faint smile tugged at her lips, and she tilted her head slightly as she regarded him. "Do you think you need to be put in cuffs, Jaune?" she asked, her tone gentle but laced with amusement. "Are you a danger to me or others?"

Jaune blinked, taken aback by her response. He hadn't expected such a direct question, especially not delivered with such an air of calmness. "N-No!" he quickly stammered, shaking his head. "I mean, I don't think so, it's just... I figured, you know, with all these people being cautious about me..."

Unohana let out a soft chuckle, her eyes twinkling. "Rest assured, Jaune, if I believed you were a danger, I would have taken the necessary precautions long before now," Her voice remained light, but there was a quiet strength behind her words that reminded Jaune of just how powerful she must be. "I trust you will behave yourself,"

Jaune swallowed nervously but managed a nod. "Right... yeah, I can behave,"

"Good," Unohana replied, her smile still in place as she gestured for him to rise. "Then let's go,"

Jaune nodded and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling a brief, sharp pain shoot through his body. Instinctively, he called upon his Aura, the comforting energy dulling the pain to a manageable level. As his eyes landed on his boots sitting nearby, he quickly grabbed them and pulled them on, the familiar feel grounding him slightly in the midst of his disorientation. Once he was ready, he pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly but standing tall.

Unohana, who had been watching with her calm, ever-observant gaze, gave a slight nod of approval before turning on her heel. Without a word, she began to walk toward the exit, and Jaune, still feeling a bit dazed, followed her in silence.

As they stepped out of the room and into the hallway, Jaune took a moment to look around. The architecture of the building struck him as familiar, reminding him of the older, traditional structures he had once seen in Mistral—simple yet elegant, with an understated beauty that spoke of history. But there was something about this place that felt... off. He couldn't quite place it, but the air seemed heavier, the atmosphere more solemn than he was used to.

As they walked, Jaune realized that he was only wearing his shirt and pants—his armor was nowhere to be seen. He glanced down at himself and frowned slightly, feeling oddly vulnerable without the protective plating. 'Where's my armor?' he thought, though he decided against asking for now. There were more pressing questions he wanted answers to.

It wasn't long before Jaune began to notice something else—people were watching him. The hallway was sparsely populated, but the few individuals they passed all seemed to stare at him with open curiosity. Their eyes followed him as he walked, their whispers barely audible but constant. He knew he stood out here—a sore thumb in a world that wasn't his—but the attention still made him uncomfortable. He tried his best to ignore it, focusing instead on following Unohana's steady pace.

"Jaune," Unohana's voice broke through the quiet.

He snapped out of his thoughts, blinking as he turned his head to look at her. "Ah, yes?" he replied, his voice carrying a hint of surprise.

"I understand that you may still be grappling with the reality of your current situation, but please, know this..." Unohana began, her tone gentle but firm, as if trying to ease him into the conversation. She glanced at him with a serene expression. "Death is not the end, there is more beyond it than you might have imagined,"

Jaune's steps faltered for a brief moment, his wide eyes locking onto her as her words sunk in.

"Death is not the end..."

The phrase echoed in his mind, unsettling and profound. He had been so caught up in the shock of his surroundings and trying to make sense of where he was that he had briefly pushed aside the reality of what had happened to him—that he was, in fact, dead.

He was dead.

Jaune Arc had truly died, back there on the bridge—he could remember the final moments all too clearly. The terrifying fall through the void, the sensation of his life slipping away as gravity pulled him toward an inevitable end. He'd accepted his fate, knowing that death was certain. In those brief, agonizing moments, he had made peace with it. But now... standing in this strange place, it all felt different. Surreal.

Disappointment gnawed at him. He had accepted the fact he was going to die as he fell, but the lingering regret was much harder to shake. The regret of leaving his teammates behind, forcing them to mourn and grieve for him. They would blame themselves—Nora would cry, Ren would fall silent, and Oscar... Oscar might feel like he had failed. They had been through so much together. They were a family in every sense of the word, and now he had left them behind.

There was no way back to them. No way back to Remnant. He was stuck in this... afterlife, wherever this was. A strange, unfamiliar world with people he didn't know, customs he couldn't understand, and powers he had never heard of. He wasn't even sure what he was anymore. Alive? Dead? Something in between? The weight of it all pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

He sighed, a deep, tired sound.

This was his reality now.

He'd have to live with it.

He made his choices. He'd chosen to let go, to accept death when he fell, and now, he had to live with the consequences. There was no going back, no waking up in Atlas or Vacuo, no hugging Nora, Ren and Oscar, no reuniting with Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang.

The road behind him was closed, and the only way forward was through this strange new existence.

But what did that mean for him?

His heart ached with the thought of what he had lost, but he couldn't allow himself to wallow in it. He wouldn't dishonor his friends by wasting this second chance—if that's what this truly was. He had to make the best of it.

Captain Unohana was right: Death wasn't the end. Maybe this was a new beginning, one he hadn't expected, but a beginning nonetheless.

Even so, as he stood there in this unfamiliar world, his thoughts drifted back to his team—his friends—his family. He closed his eyes, hoping, praying to whatever gods were out there, that they would move forward, that they wouldn't give up. That they would win.

'Ren, Nora, Oscar...' Jaune thought, his heart tightening as their faces flashed in his mind. 'I know you can keep going forward, you're stronger than you think... Don't stop because of me, I believe in you guys,'

Then, his thoughts turned to the others—the ones who had been leading the charge in the war against Salem and those who he believed in more than himself. 'Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang... I know you're not gone, you've been through too much to be taken down like that! If you're still out there—if you're still fighting—please, get back home, and keep up the good fight, I know you'll win... You have to,'

A bittersweet smile crossed Jaune's lips as he opened his eyes. He had always been the optimist—the one who believed in their strength, even when he doubted his own. That part of him hadn't changed.

He still believed in them. He had to. It was all he had left.

For now, all he could do was hold on to that hope. Hope that his friends on Remnant would keep pushing forward, that they would win against Salem, Cinder, and all the enemies that stood in their way. They were capable of incredible things, and Jaune believed with everything in him that they would prevail—even without him.

As for himself... Jaune took a deep breath, standing a little straighter as he walked beside Unohana. He would have to figure out this strange world and his place in it. It might be different, difficult even, but maybe Captain Unohana was right. Maybe death wasn't the end.

Perhaps it was the beginning of something new.

And maybe... just maybe, he would find his purpose again here, in this strange afterlife.