A Game of Hearts

by ImSoAwesome

There is pain in every heart, and some need help to overcome it. After Jaune is sent to live with his aunt and start afresh at a new school, he awakens the power to dive into the hearts of his peers and save them from being consumed by despair. Hardly an easy thing—saving someone's heart. And he'd find it was even harder to save his own.

75. Chapter 75

Chapter 75 - Infohazard

---

Something was wrong.

"Who are you?" asked Jaune.

The Apostle was holding up the Superior's disembodied head by the hair. It had two mangled gaps where the eyes should have been, and his mouth was twisted into a permanent scream as though beyond the grave his spirit suffered even greater torment. The Apostle observed this macabre with bright eyes, the way a child might watch a clown do party tricks. He even smacked the cheeks to make the head spin, the way a cat might knock around a ball of yarn.

They were sitting at an elaborate and fancy dining table with only each other for company. There was no food to be served, not unless the Apostle planned to eat the Superior's head, which didn't sound unlikely. The Apostle had begun rolling the head along his arm, over his shoulder, passing it from one hand to the next like a professional basketball, his sick smile growing all the time. In his right mind, Jaune might have found the display immature and sadistic, but he found himself enjoying it somehow. Enjoying it should have made him feel ashamed, but he felt guilt in any measure. Eventually, the Apostle placed the head down on his dinner plate, adjusting it so they eyeless gaps stared accusingly at Jaune. All Jaune could think of when he saw the Superior's head was how he should have drawn his death out. He hadn't relished the bastard's screams.

It seemed the Apostle knew his thoughts, too. For he adopted a smile of approval as he leaned on his hand. "You bear my visage and that is the question you ask? Or is it that I bear your visage? Which of us came first?" He gave that some thought, then shrugged. "Regardless, you know who I am. I am your true self. Your closest feelings. I am you. The real you."

"So you're my Alter?"

The Apostle rolled his eyes. It was the first time Jaune had seen him express a feeling that wasn't pleasure of some kind. It was some kind of moment seeing your own reflection get annoyed with you. "Alter. What an obscene word. The woman used that word as well, and I found it disgusting even then. It likens me to that of a bad painting. A bastardized, corrupted mockery of the original. A shallow and colorless imitation." He did not remove his eyes from Jaune as he took in a breath and let it go through his nose. "No. I am no Alter. I am not some falsehood. I am the undeniable truth. I am what makes up your heart and soul, unfiltered and unhindered. I am honesty itself. I am not the twisted imitation of the original work. I am the original."

"You're me," said Jaune.

"Yes. We are, to be precise."

"We?"

"Indeed. My brothers. The Wolf and the Witness."

"Witness. You mean that boy? The Eyeless Child?"

"Is that what you call him? I suppose it is an apt name. Yes, we three."

"But if there are three of you, three of me, how do you know you're the original?"

"Because we three were once one. We were whole and complete and perfect. Until the Witness happened upon the Truth, and in his despair tore himself apart. The Wolf was born, and he tore out the eyes to prevent us from splitting further." The Apostle touched the left side of his chest, looked down at it with that same frown. "And he tore out the heart and cast it away, so that we might never suffer the loss of love again. All this in the name of preserving the body. The cold, emotionless husk which ruled this world for an eternity. The shell of our former self which became you."

Jaune swallowed. He thought about himself. The boy who acted standoffish, who pushed people away simply for being nice, who denied those basic human needs for love and friends, lying to himself to ward off future pain. A husk. It hurt to admit, but in many ways the word was accurate.

"But no longer." The signature smirk returned to the Apostle's face. "Now a change is upon us. An age of feeling. No longer in denial of our true self, we can be who we truly are."

"Which is?"

His smile grew bigger. "Whatever we want."

Jaune gave that some thought, nodded, then looked around. He felt an itch in the back of his head. Like something was crawling around on his skull. "Something's different."

"You feel that too? I suspect it may have something to do with this creature you once called your Superior. An alien thing, with abilities I do not understand. The properties of which have left the vessel he was slain in, and, perhaps due to mere proximity, have latched onto your soul. I suspect this is why you and I are currently capable of doing what we are now. Interacting without crossing the boundary between worlds."

"You think so? How is that possible?"

"Perhaps there is more we do not know. It presents an interesting question, doesn't it? If the supposedly ironclad laws which prevent multiple worlds from interacting have an exception such as this, why so? What makes the Worm and his adversary so special that the rules do not apply? And what does that mean for us, now that the means to defy these laws has been cursed upon us? But more. Is this the only means by which this boundary is crossed, or is it the only method known? What is the implication that the boundaries between countless universes are uncrossable only because no other way was discovered?"

Jaune stared at the Apostle. It was hard to say what he was thinking, which was ironic given he was supposed to be him. And he sure as hell didn't know what to make of his wild theorizing. It all sounded too high scale for his time or interest. "Can't say I care too much about any of that."

The Apostle nodded. "Well, it is something to ponder. But you are right, something has changed. I cannot say what. There may be questions you have not asked, and answers you need. You may have slain a great enemy, but on our journey to a satisfying end, there will be more enemies to face."

"Who?"

The Apostle shrugged. "I don't know. It will be your job to figure it out. Now that I can simply pull your consciousness into our heart, I believe we will have many fruitful conversations as we navigate our destiny."

"You said the Witness saw something he wasn't supposed to. You called it the Truth." That was something the Superior had talked about once. Had apparently used it on those Rebels he'd captured. "What is it? What's the Truth?"

Again, the Apostle shrugged. Though the accompanying smile made Jaune wonder how honest he was being. "How could I know? I suppose that will need to be one of the first questions you ask."

"The Superior is dead." Jaune pointed at the head to make his point.

"You are certain the answers died with him? Why not ask those close to him. Try to put this puzzle together. Someone knows, I guarantee it." The Apostle beamed and waved Jaune goodbye with his fingers. "You'd best get back to the surface. You have school to attend, do you not?"

---

Jaune woke up to find Blake's head on his chest, one arm draped over him, naked under the blanket they shared. He felt groggy, drained, a little sore, and for some reason, he was having a hard time recalling what happened last night. Well, besides the obvious. Jaune swiped his phone off the desk, glared at the light, squinted at the time. He blew a relieved sigh. Thank God, he wasn't late already, though he would be if he didn't get up now..

Despite the many good reasons to stay in bed, he eased out of Blake's hold, grinning at how her face scrunched up, grabbing at the empty space he'd left behind. Eventually, she found the blanket, pulled it close, and relaxed. She seemed to always sleep really well with him after, well, sleeping with him. He couldn't say the feeling wasn't mutual. They'd likely never be a couple, but he couldn't deny how nice it was waking up next to someone.

That's when he noticed the TV was on. And on the news channel specifically. Jaune never tuned into that so he figured it might have been Blake late last night. A reporter was standing on a sidewalk and behind people were scattered in a messy horde, all gathering before the tall doors of a massive black cathedral.

"Yes it is an absolute frenzy here in deep downtown Vale, as people come in droves for the morning address at St. Catherines' Church of the Brothers." The reporter gestured toward the gathering with a flourish of his arm, and the cameraman panned up the cathedral's highest spire, zooming in on the booming bell at the top. "People are arriving in greater numbers every day, and already I hear the church may be reaching full capacity." The camera turned his camera to the street. Jaune saw an absolute clusterfuck of badly parked cars not only in the lot and adjacent yard, but also in the street, and further out in the lots of a car dealership, a fast food joint, and many more. Police had already arrived, trying to manage the spreading disturbance, and more cars were appearing by the minute. Hundreds of people were pouring from their vehicles, scrambling to the church, unconcerned with any complaints. "As you can see, people are in high anticipation of the sermon to the point that the street has effectively been rerouted, while police demand people move their cars. It seems, to no avail."

Jaune watched with more than a little fascination. He'd heard about this, but then, it was kind of hard not to. There'd been an unbelievable spike in people attending all sorts of spiritual gatherings, not just normal church folk. According to Neptune, kids at school would mention their parents making them attend the Brothers' church or whatever faiths they practiced. The one Jaune was most familiar with was The Brothers, and then only tangentially since his mom practiced as a child, but fell out of it as an adult. And his dad had never been religious, so his family never grew up on it.

Now, faith was becoming something of a fad. Spurred on by the experiences of the people once trapped in the Public Domain, now returned home with stories to tell. Were they only a couple of hundred, Jaune doubted anyone would listen. They'd be dismissed as easily as one swats a fly. But these weren't the retellings of a few hundred folk, or a few thousand, or even a hundred thousand. There were well over fifty million people all across the world sharing stories, all spun and shaped by their ignorant interpretations. Calling the PD Purgatory or hell or a parallel world or an underground civilizations. Calling Grimm demons, spirits, aliens, or cryptids. Tales of men in black venturing these odd worlds, fighting these monsters, and kidnapping those who spotted them. The tales were infinite in number and variety, but they all shared two consistent threads that tied them all together.

What they suffered was real. And the government was trying to cover it up. Normally, just typical conspiracy theory mumblings. Only now the veritable backing of over fifty million once-missing people, all unaged since their disappearances, and all talking about the same exact thing.

It only made sense that people started to believe. And once they started to believe in the existence of eldritch monsters, mysterious men, government cover ups, and supernatural powers, to whom else could normal folk turn to for answers but God?

"It can't be doubted that this, and many other incidents of late, are due to the outlandish accusations and conspiracies made by the many disappeared people, who all suddenly returned some time ago. Experts suspect this wave of insanity to be caused by a cult of extremists who poisoned the water supply with lab-generated hallucinogens, causing a storm of mass hysteria. There are talks of—"

Jaune shut the TV off. Those experts he spoke of had probably been notable officials or scientists under the Organization's control, trying to discredit the claims of the victims and sway public opinion. Likely that reporter was paid off too, and the media team behind him. Hallucinogens weren't the only excuses they were using, either. They attributed the disappearances to mass kidnappings and trafficking, and explained the men in black as dutiful government officials carrying out operations to protect the people. They even attribute fifty million people's lack of aging to a combination of genetic mutations, drug abuse, and malnutrition.

It all sounded ridiculous and unbelievable to him, but then he was one of the few insiders looking out. Realistically, what were the common folk more likely to believe? Monsters, superpowers, and conspiracies? Or some mundane, and frankly uninteresting explanation which the common man could not disprove, nor were likely to question? Like Oobleck had once said, most people prefer an easy lie than an uncomfortable truth. In a couple months, likely all of this would tide over and the world would go back to normal.

But then, fifty million people was quite a lot to chalk up to a case of mass hysteria. Jaune sighed, picked out some clothes, and headed to the bathroom to dress for school.

They weren't that bad, the scars on his face. It wasn't abnormal to wake up with a few marks from tossing around at night, and playing with Demon naturally resulted in a few scratches, though those usually happened on his arms. Then he lifted his shirt, turned his back to the mirror, turned his head awkwardly to observe the damage. He'd gotten a few scratches from her, digging her damn cat claws into his back like she was trying to tear him open. Some were fresher than others, stinging like tiny pinches. But apparently marks like these were something of a compliment. If that was so, then he'd own them proudly. A little pain for a far greater pleasure. Worth the trade every time.

But these mysterious scars. The ones that had just suddenly appeared on his face days ago without any explanation, that was far more worrying, and he hadn't a clue as to where they could have come from.

Well, there was no point aching over it. Probably it had come from the war and he just had not noticed until later. There'd been so much going on that it only made sense some things would slip by. Still, while the cuts weren't bad, they were definitely noticeable. Very in his face. Scars like this were entirely unmissable. As if whoever or whatever put them there wanted them to be seen.

But like he'd said, no point aching over it. He was going back to school today, and that made him nervous for several reasons. Jaune showered and dressed. He thought to wake Blake, but remembered yesterday had been her last day. Her parents had opted to pull her from Beacon immediately, rightly fearing Adam's return, and Jaune supposed now they were figuring out which private school to send her to. He'd miss seeing her in the halls, but it wasn't as if there'd be long periods between seeing each other. It was for the best. Besides, he had other things to worry about.

Outside it was kind of half-sunny. A cast of a very light gray on the world that struck a strange tone. Melancholic. Reminiscent. Jaune did find himself in a rare reflective mood

He put in his headphones, threw his hands in his pockets, and headed down the same path to school he'd taken since moving to Vale. God, he hadn't even thought about the fact that he had moved. Away from his sisters, his father, and hometown. Moved up here with all these cityfolk that, at the time, he just couldn't understand. Now everything felt so normal. So unremarkable. Like he'd been here all his life. In retrospect, he hadn't been here that long. Not nearly. Yet so much had happened. So damn much. It was crazy to think about.

His life had changed in so many significant ways, and that brought up an uncomfortable question. Had he changed as well? Had he matured? Had his mental health improved? Jaune certainly didn't feel different. But that's why he'd come down here. To get better. And after so much, he couldn't quite place where he had made improvements to himself, if he had at all.

In the beginning, Jaune had been somewhat certain of who he was. That loner life, miserable though it was, had a comfortable consistency. An assurance of self that came with every wall up and no risks taken with his heart. But the walls were down now, according to the Apostle. Wherever the Wolf was, he certainly wasn't in control anymore. And so the floodgates were open, and Jaune was not at all sure what would come through. What would this new Jaune Arc be like? What did he truly want?

Jaune imagined he might be asking himself that a lot.

Once he got to homeroom, he saw Sun and Neptune, and weirdly, felt a warmth in his chest just to see them. Sun dapped him up, like usual, and Jaune noticed how automatic it was. There'd been a time where he'd have to remind himself to return the gesture, but now his body just acted.

Sun turned in his chair and beamed as Jaune took his seat behind him. "Doth my eyes deceive me? Is that a smile? On the Jaune Arc? Okay imposter, where's he buried?"

Jaune raised his hands in surrender. "I had an extensive conversation with myself this morning, so I'm pretty sure I'm the real one. "

"So then you're actually just happy to see me?" Sun gave a braggart's shrug. "Well, can't blame you. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

Jaune grinned. "You've won me over. I surrender."

Sun raised an eyebrow, the smile falling. "Wait, seriously?"

Jaune nodded. "I can't be happy to see you?"

Sun had a rare moment of stuttering. Starting pulling on his ear like that might help him find his words. "No, not saying that. You can, just…" He smiled bigly though. That only made Jaune smile more. "Nevermind. That's good to hear. Sometimes, I think I come on too hard. I know you like your space."

Jaune offered a fist bump and Sun returned. "You're good, bro."

Then, Neptune leaned over toward him. "You okay though?"

Jaune nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"You know, Ruby?"

Oh right, that. Jaune thought to try to feign being sad, if only to avoid questions, but what'd be the point? After all that had happened, he thought his friends were owed the truth. "I'm good," he said.

Sun had turned to sit backwards in his chair, arms folded over the backrest. "You sure, dude?"

"Yeah, I mean it. Honestly. The truth is… it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Seriously, I'm doing okay. Is Ruby…?"

"She says she's okay…" said Sun. "Who knows though. Apparently she won't even talk to her sister about it."

That was kind of concerning. Jaune hoped nothing serious was going on with her. Then he felt stupid for thinking it. She'd just gone through a breakup. Of course she was going through something. "Should I talk to her?"

Neptune shook his head. "Better you don't. She'll come around. Yang thinks we should just let her be. Give her space, you know?"

"Well, I'm sure Yang's been waiting to kill me. So when she does, cremate my corpse."

"She was actually in your corner." said Sun, "She was shocked when she found out. Apparently, Ruby and she were arguing about it."

That made Jaune feel guilty. "It's not Ruby's fault. Things weren't working out. Ruby broke it off but… I think we both wanted to part ways. I just realized it afterward."

"Since we know you, dude, I'm gonna advise you don't get involved in this. Just let Ruby go through her process and you handle yourself. That's the best thing you can do for her."

"But not alone." said Neptune, putting a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Seriously dude. Don't feel like you're alone. We've got you."

Jaune found himself smiling again. It actually welled up some emotion in him. "Thanks. That means a lot."

That's when Professor Goodwitch walked in and declared that the fun was officially over. Everyone who liked living immediately fell into obedience. Still, Jaune found himself grateful for Neptune and Sun as they whispered amongst one another. These dudebros that even now didn't sound like the kinds of friends he'd choose in the past. He hadn't chosen them, really. Just got swept up by them.

Actually, no. Who was he kidding? At any time, he could have bailed out. At any time, he could have said no to their friendship and walked away. Why hadn't he? The answer seemed obvious now, even though it was only a few months ago, that he'd have denied it at every mention. Without these two, and all who'd followed, where would he be now? Who would he be? That question again. Who was Jaune Arc now?

Jaune sighed. Looked out an open window into the school's inner courtyard. He could see the cafeteria building on the far end. A few benches and trees, fountains and snack machines. Same as always. Even up to the west wing building, where he'd sometimes see students on the rooftops, blatantly skipping class. There was one there now actually. Just standing there. Odd, he didn't remember the parapet being that low. He could see the person's feet… uncomfortably close to the edge of, at least, a fifty foot drop.

Jaune's heart sank. He recognized the person. Recognized the girl. Octavia.

He didn't know what he yelled. Someone's on the roof, maybe. He heard Miss Goodwitch call out something. Perhaps she was trying to tell him to wait for help to arrive. But Jaune had already leaped headfirst out the window. Before he knew it, he'd crossed the inner courtyard, feeling like he'd blanked out for a moment. His heart was already thundering against his chest, throwing his every muscle into action, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, his breaths erratic.

Oh god, how had he forgotten her? She was one of his first potential marks. Someone he'd known needed help. He'd always meant to. Why hadn't he?

Jaune bolted into the next building, scaring a teacher's papers out of their arms and causing some girls to scream. He had no time for them. He bolted down the hall, sliding past the janitor and a few others, knowing they were all looking at him in shock and confusion.

Too focused on himself, that's what had happened. So busy getting into trouble, causing problems, and getting dragged into the Organization's nonsense. Leaving Octavia forgotten. He hadn't given her any thought, and that made him feel sick to his stomach. Not too late, he thought. Please, don't be too late.

Jaune broke through the staircase door, immediately darted up them, three at a time, legs burning, out of breath, but never slowing. Couldn't slow. Had to be faster. Had to reach her.

He had forgotten who he was. Who he wanted to be. Or no, maybe that's what he'd always been trying to figure out, and it had been in front of him all along. He'd always felt whole when there was someone to help. The bullied kids at his old school who were too scared to protect themselves. His sisters coming to him for comfort or safety. Neighbors and strangers needing help with things, be it some heavy groceries or chores or repairs. Hadn't these always been the things he'd done? Everything he'd been taught to do?

If you want to make any difference, if it really does hurt you to see others in pain, then help them to overcome it. Wasn't that what his aunt had told him, at the cusp of a decision that would change his life forever? And what had been his answer, and why had he forgotten it up to now?

Jaune's foot hit a step. He fell onto his shoulder, scrambled back up. He could see the door at the top. Almost there.

What had fulfilled him more than anything? What had he started all this for, before getting involved with all this government madness? Before becoming a dog of the organization? Before having to save the world?

He'd just been himself. A normal guy, who just wanted to help wherever he could. Jaune had lost sight of that. But no more. Never again.

Jaune crashed through the rooftop door. He saw Octavia immediately. He screamed out to her but it came out a weak croak, inaudible over the sudden wind. But she had spread her arms now, like a bird about to take flight. Too far away. He was too late.

Jaune forced one last burst of energy and sprinted at Octavia with all his strength. He saw her start to fall forward, and there was a scream from down below. He hurled himself at her, his feet left the ground, he was flying, flying toward her.

In midair, he reached her.. Jaune folded his arms around her, drew her close and tight, held forever. But they'd gone right over. The ground had abandoned them entirely. He saw the gathered crowd down below briefly, the wind rushing in his ears as they plummeted to ground from a dizzying height. Perhaps he'd die. Perhaps they'd both die.

But at least Octavia would know she hadn't died alone.

---

Something was different.

Jaune woke up in a hospital bed, which at this point was practically a second home. Through cracked eyes, he looked around. The curtains were drawn open, and he could see that it was very late at night. Someone was sitting in a chair beside him, arms folded, eyes closed, one leg crossed over the other, as if patiently waiting on something. It was Cinder.

He reached over, weakly, touched her arm to get her attention. She snapped awake, jolted, and adjusted herself. A rare instance, he noticed, catching her unready. Then she put on her trademark cocksure grin and was quickly back in control. "There are other ways to get my attention than putting yourself in the hospital."

Jaune's voice felt groggy. "How else would I get you to take care of me?"

Cinder smirked. "By asking very nicely. How do you feel?"

"A little woozy."

"I gave you a sedative, so that's to be expected. You're lucky you only fractured your arm. You're still bruised in a few places, but not too badly. Do you remember what happened?"

Jaune saw that it was true. His arm was in a thick cast, which after a millions bad injuries seemed less lucky and more the work of divine intervention. Perhaps there was a god looking out for him. "Tried to stop my classmate from jumping. Ended up jumping myself." Then a surge of worry. "Is she okay? Where is she?"

"In the next room over. Don't get yourself worked up, as she is in a better state than you. You certainly cushioned her fall, but she still has some mild head trauma and a broken wrist. Again, quite lucky."

Jaune took a moment to calm down, nodded. "Okay. Good."

"Oh on the contrary, your stunt is far from the word good." Cinder's grin had been replaced with a stern warning of a frown. One that Jaune was not keen on testing. "Desperate though your need may be to save lives, keep in mind you will save no one if you have no concern for your own."

Jaune swallowed a lump of guilt. "I wasn't thinking. I'm really sorry, I should've known better."

Cinder seemed to accept that well enough, which itself was a massive relief. "Your aunt has already been here. I assured her you'd recover. But apparently, earlier today, she received news from this fellow called General Ironwood."

Jaune blinked. "I met him. Only in passing though. There was this woman with him, too. She was in the battle. Weren't you about to fight her?"

Cinder showed an almost complete disinterest, as if that dangerous looking woman was an insect she didn't even feel the need to step on. "Winter Schnee is her name."

"Schnee? That Schnee?"

"Yes, that one."

That meant she was a relative of Weiss, Jaune thought. And the implication of that made him anxious about talking to her in the future, especially with the two-week trip coming up. He swallowed, "What's the news?"

"Hazel Rainart wishes to speak with us. You, specifically."

Jaune's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Me? Why?"

"He did not say."

"I thought they'd killed him."

"It seems the organization agrees that the state he was left in is a far more suitable punishment. He is under constant watch. He may have lost two limbs but there is no way to prevent the man from diving into the Public Domain, or dragging others into it. For all the interrogation he was subjected to, he apparently did not speak once. Until he requested your attendance."

Jaune couldn't say he wasn't curious to find out what he wanted. And wasn't this a perfect opportunity to ask his own questions? The Superior was gone, but Hazel was probably the next best person to get information from. It was a chance he could not afford to miss. "When do we go?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. Sorry to say you will miss class."

"Nothing new there." he paused. "By the way, thank you, Cinder. For always helping me."

He noticed her lip curl. Then she huffed. "It is my job. Though your tendency to return is—"

"Not just that. I mean, everything. I don't think I'd have even made it through Qrow's heart without your help. Then everything else after. I'm sorry for relying on you so much. I promise I'll pay you back."

Cinder blinked at him, and for a moment it looked like she might soften up. But then her shoulders stiffened and she turned away from him, arms folded. "Don't be silly. It was in my best interests to help you. You can pay me back by growing in strength and becoming useful to me."

"I swear I will… er, if you'll help me."

She turned to him. A sour look on her face. "With what?"

"Will you train me? Please?"

And the hard shell around Cinder came apart. She let out a breath that seemed to relax her entire body. "Oh… well yes of course my offer still stands. But are you certain? There is plenty you can learn from your aunt, and I have not her patience to accommodate an uncommitted disciple. Perhaps it would be best if—"

Jaune cut her off, staring her right in the eyes and refusing to look away. "You're the strongest person I know. I want you."

Cinder's eyes widened. Jaune even thought she might have blushed a little. There was the beginning of an adorable smirk appearing on her face, and she hid the rest of it by setting her chin in her palm and looking toward the window. He heard the tiniest giggle. "Well, you certainly know what a woman likes to hear. Very well. Once my schedule clears up, we shall train together. How does that sound?"

Jaune grinned. "Like the best date ever."

"A date now, is it? Do you fancy yourself that much of a charmer?"

"I do. I mean, the ladies just throw themselves at me. I don't blame them."

"Nothing screams the perfect lover like a man jumping off a roof to save a life. Can I expect you to come to my needy rescue in the future?"

"Only if you ask very nicely."

Cinder was trying very hard not to laugh. She scrunched her lips with restraint. Eventually, she took control and pulled up her clipboard. Jaune stared at her for a while as she worked in silence. And occasionally she'd glance at him, send him that trademark smirk, then go back to work. My god, she was beautiful. And not even because of how she looked, as that was plain to see. It was more in how she presented herself. This confidence, this swagger, like she was the baddest bitch on this planet, the baddest in history perhaps. She was like a fire. So dangerous to touch, but so seductively, temptingly warm. Who wouldn't want to get a little closer?

"Hey, Cinder?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about yourself."

Cinder blinked, looked at him, another rare instance of being caught off guard. There was a moment of silence. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Whatever you tell me. I kinda realized just now, I've never asked about you."

Cinder paused like she'd just thought of that too. "I suppose I'm guilty of the same. We certainly do not talk much outside of our Hunter work."

"Well, I want to get to know you. If you'll let me."

And then, Cinder smiled. Like a full and brimming beam. It blew Jaune away. He swore a pink tint had swelled to her cheeks like she'd received a compliment that she'd remember forever. The smile was huge and bright, glowing even, and it made his heart start pounding with a fury, made his breath catch, made his stomach flutter. For that instant, she was a painting made real, an art piece given life. So unspeakably beautiful as to transcend humanity itself, and to rise to heavenly status. The gods themselves looked down enviously upon Cinder Fall, fuming at the injustice of how a mortal creature could appear so divine. Was a woman like this even possible?

"Let's save it for training, then." said Cinder, her voice soft as silk, "I believe we will spend plenty of time together soon. That'll give you something to look forward to."

"That's a long wait. Can't you give me something?"

"This should sustain you." Cinder came in close, and the sudden proximity made him almost flinch away. She thought ahead it seemed, for she kept his head from turning by tucking her curled finger beneath his chin, making him face her. Then she planted a kiss on his cheek. A kiss that made Jaune feel like he'd caught fire. He knew he was blushing. Perhaps his body had turned entirely red. But he couldn't stop it. Didn't want to.

Then she stood up, smooth as butter, clipboard and all, looked over her shoulder at him. "Well I have other patients to check on. You should get some rest."

Please, don't leave, Jaune almost begged, but thankfully remembered to try and appear somewhat manly. "Okay," he squeaked.

Once she'd left and closed the door behind him, Jaune blew out hard and laid back on his bed. Lord, Cinder really was something else. He could never be completely confident around her, she always caught him slipping somehow. That's when he noticed there was a swelling down below, and he looked down at himself in shocked disgust as if to chastise his own body's reaction. Oh god, he hoped that hadn't been there when Cinder was in the room. God damn it. Jaune palmed his forehead in anticipated embarrassment.

An hour passed, and once he felt strong enough to move, he got up to find Octavia. Thankfully, there was only one nurse on the floor, and she was too busy filing her nails to pay him any attention. So Jaune quickly found Octavia's room, saw that it had been left half open, and tha Octavia was awake, sitting upright in her bed. She had bandages around her head, but otherwise she looked fine. Well, physically anyway. People who were fine probably weren't likely to try jumping off a roof. Jaune slipped halfway through the door, then knocked.

She turned to him with a jolt, blinking. "You. Er…"

"Jaune." he greeted, "I kinda came to check on you. Can I come in?"

She hesitated, but eventually nodded, and Jaune pulled up a chair to sit beside her. The room was quiet for a moment. She stared at him the entire time, like she was trying to figure something out. Finally, Jaune got their conversation going with, "Does it hurt?"

Octavia looked at his arm, then picked at the bandages on her head. "Headache won't go away. It was worse an hour ago." she frowned, "What you did was stupid."

Jaune nodded. "I've been told."

"What'd you do it for?"

"You think I would have watched you fall?"

"You should have." she grumbled.

Jaune leaned toward her."Why?"

"What do you care?" The girl snapped suddenly, turning onto Jaune with hatred in her eyes like he was the cause of her problems. "What does anyone care? Why don't you just shut up and leave me alone! You never should have done anything. Now your arm's all busted up! Have you been suicidal all this time and just saw an opportunity to lump yourself with mine? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a fucking psycho?" She panted hard, having barely taken a breath before laying into him. Her voice fell to a terrible whimper. "I wanted to die. I would've been at peace. But you just had to get in the way. You shouldn't have stopped me."

It was tricky ground to navigate, but Jaune tried to be as forward and honest as possible. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Fuck off."

"I always meant to talk to you, if you can believe it."

Now the tears were falling. She sniffled and scrubbed her face, trying to drill holes in Jaune's face with her flares. "Oh yeah, you just love barging into other people's business. That's your thing. Well what took you so long, then? Why didn't you talk to me, huh?"

Jaune did not look away as he said, "I… no, there's no good excuse. I wanted to talk to you, really. I should have."

"Well too late. I don't want to talk to you or be your friend or whatever the hell you want. I don't want or need anybody. Clearly I didn't matter much if you completely forgot about me. You're just like Nebula. She gets a whole new boyfriend and…" She turned away, "Forget it."

Jaune tried to be a bit more tender. She was trying to be tough, and he knew that only because he'd done the same himself. But everyone was soft on the inside. That was just being human. "You're right. I wish I would've done better but I didn't. I don't want you to think I'm only here now because of this."

"Your arm's broken because of me, you idiot."

"My arm's broken because of me. My choice. I'd do it again."

She sniffled. "Why?"

Jaune shrugged. "I like to meet new people. Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet."

She gave him a flat look through the tears. "That sounds so corny. What'd you get that out of, a children's book?"

Jaune grinned a little. "From my dad, actually."

She huffed. "Well good for you. Least you've got a dad. Mine probably doesn't know I exist. Whatever. I still don't want to talk to you."

"We don't need to talk. Is it okay if I sit here though?"

"Do whatever. I don't care."

But in the accompanying silence, with nothing else to prevent it, Octavia started to cry. He thought she might tell him to leave, but she never did. Jaune held out his hand to her, and thankfully she took it, squeezing his hand for all the comfort he offered.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Anything I can do?"

She didn't look at him, but whimpered like a child separated from her parents. "Just… can you stay with me? I don't want to be alone."

Jaune set his other hand on top of hers and gave her the warmest smile he could. A silent promise. "I'll stay as long as you want."

And Octavia let herself cry in full, and before long she'd commanded a hug from him, and sobbed on his shoulder. She didn't seem ready to talk about what was bothering her, but it hardly mattered. Now Jaune would give her all the attention she needed. Not just for her sake, but his own.

Here, comforting someone in need with a hug and a promise, Jaune knew that there was nowhere else he would rather be.

---

The prison was set in a great expanse of flatland surrounded on all sides by miles of forest. The main structure was a series of rectangular buildings jutting out of the square center, and interconnected by a web of walls, hallways, and bridges. There were tall watchtowers at every corner, stationed by dutiful guards, while regular patrol units circled the great perimeter both inside the high electric fence and outside it. It did not escape Jaune's imagination that, if he ever became a danger like Hazel, this might be where he ended up.

There were six of them in total, who'd been summoned to meet Hazel's request. Jaune, of course. Peach, Cinder, Qrow, Oobleck, and Ironwood. They'd been brought here in a limousine, and the driver had stepped out of his car to light a cigarette, probably thinking they'd be here for some time. If he expected them to come out at all.

Cinder looked around at the facility with an almost disappointed look, like she'd expected more of it. "Quite an underwhelming place to house the world's most dangerous criminals."

Ironwood chortled. "True enough, my dear. No, it does not seem much, but you might be surprised to know that this prison is not built to contain the prisoners."

Cinder gave him a bewildered look. "Not built to contain the prisoners? What is it for, then?"

"Most inmates secured here are capable of accessing the Public Domain, meaning any effort to restrict them is pointless. Of course, this doesn't mean we allow them to gambol about the facility freely, though they do tend to have more freedoms than even the most tolerant prisons in the world. Since, at any time, the inmates can attempt an escape, this prison was chosen specifically for its location. Namely, its drop point into the Public Domain. If one of our prisoners attempted to dive from inside thirty square miles of this facility, they would fall into a zone of high Despair levels. Absolutely swarming with Grimm of B-class and above."

"There's a section of the Public Domain like that?"

"Yes. Zulhetl's Spawn Point."

Before Jaune could even open his mouth, Oobleck elaborated. "S-class Grimm are created from such a high concentration of Despair that they leave behind a sort of nest. Often it takes the form of a massive lake, except it is Despair in its most raw, parasitic, tar-like form. Naturally, more Grimm are born from this Spawn Point, usually the higher tiered species such as Dragons and even Shards of the Brain."

Qrow shook his head. "I learn more disturbing things every time I work with you bastards."

Ironwood headed for the prison doors. "If what Hazel has to say is interesting, we might be learning a whole lot more. If you'll follow me?"

They all filed into the building. Inside, Jaune didn't see anything that looked too different from a normal prison. Ironwood showed his ID to get them through the lobby, where oddly there seemed to be normal people waiting. Families of the prisoners, maybe? Of course, that brought on a series of questions, and Jaune didn't waste time asking.

"Are these normal people waiting in the lobby?"

"Indeed. The families of the inmates, here for visitation." said Ironwood.

"Isn't that kind of risky?"

"The Superior voiced similar concerns. It used to be that these prisoners, due to the nature of their crimes, were completely stripped of their rights and locked up here for the rest of their lives, fated to die in obscurity. Their families would be informed of their sudden disappearance and nothing more. This had been the case for many years, but in that time there had been near constant attempts at escape. That is why I advocated for changing the system."

Jaune blinked. "You?"

"Me. To solve our escapee issue, I suggested that inmates be given more freedoms, visitation, activities, even trips. It took plenty of networking and favors, but eventually my suggestions were passed, and for the past couple of years, we have not had a single escape attempt. The families are informed of the Organization's existence, but are made to sign a non-disclosure agreement. In return, they have visitation permissions at their request."

"How altruistic of you," said Peach.

"Hardly. The people here will still spend the rest of their lives in a cage and die in obscurity. Make no mistake, every captive is here for a reason. I simply figured we could encourage cooperative behavior by giving them some simple freedoms."

"Is Hazel the only of the Rebels here?" asked Cinder.

"He is. But would you believe it if I said we never found him? He turned himself over."

Jaune's jaw nearly dropped. "Seriously?"

"That's what happened. I assume some of his allies attempted to hide him, but ultimately Hazel knew he would be found. When we found him, he was sitting outside his old home, waiting to be found. Until today, he had not spoken a word."

"You couldn't force anything out of him?"

"The man lost the will to fight, along with an arm and leg. What worse could be done to him?"

"Why does he want to talk now?" asked Qrow.

"You'll have the chance to ask him yourself."

Before long, they came across a cell at the far end of a hall, where none of the other cells were occupied. Hazel was laying on a cot at the far end of his cold white cell with his remaining arm over his chest. With his eyes closed, he might have almost looked like a corpse prepared for burial, if not for the permanent stony look to him, like he was a wall that was always up, always ready. As they approached, Hazel didn't open his eyes, but he certainly heard them, and was content to stay silent for a while as his five visitors stared him down.

Something was different.

"Something is different." said Hazel suddenly, voice deep as a pit, gravely as broken concrete.

"What?" said Peach.

"You've felt it, haven't you… Jaune?"

Jaune felt his frown deepen. He looked around at the others, but they just returned looks of confusion. He turned back to Hazel, "Yeah. Something's different. The air or something. It's hard to explain."

"What do you mean?" asked Peach again.

"I don't know," Jaune scratched the back of his head as he tried to come up with a way to word it. "Something is just off. Like, when a machine is making a sound it doesn't normally make, but is still working fine. You know something's broken or loose, but you don't know what. And you don't know what it'll cause if it gets worse. Do you guys not feel it?"

No one, not even Cinder showed any sign of understanding him. It made him feel like he'd made it up in his head, if it weren't for Hazel confirming his fears.

"Strange. It seems only those like us can sense a change in our world."

"Those like us?"

"We whose power ascends above most others. Those cursed by the Superior's blessing. The angels closest to God. The Seraphim."

Jaune tried to quell a swell of nervousness. "Guess the means the Vicar senses it too?"

"Doubtless."

"I doubt it takes a Seraphim to note the state of our world," said Ironwood. "Because of your war, the surface world has been flooded with secrets the public was never meant to know. The safety and sanity of the populace is at great risk."

"No. Not that. It is something with the very fabric of the world." said Hazel, "There's a rip somewhere. A fault in the machine. The leak spreads and infects many others, heralding a shift." He opened his eyes finally, and they looked as empty as an undead's coffin. "Or I've simply gone mad."

Qrow seemed keen to move to the point. "What do you want to talk now for?"

"My attempts to avenge my sister failed. I'm afraid there is nothing left I want. I may as well warn you what is to come. Raven Branwen. She will come."

That name sounded terribly familiar. Then Jaune realized and looked up at Qrow. It was a kind of furious shock that had appeared on his face, his teeth were pressed together, his shoulders hunched, his fists quaked with sudden incredible anger. "What the hell did you say?"

"Raven Branwen. The gangster."

Qrow grabbed the bar of the cell with a shaking hand, and Jaune could only imagine what he would do if he got that hand on Hazel. "Must have lost what's left of your mind in this cage. That woman's dead. Saw it myself. My old partner took her out." Qrow pointed at the space between his eyes. "Shot her right in the fucking face. Right here! I was there when she was buried. Whoever you're talking about, it's not my… It's not her."

Hazel had turned his eye to Qrow, staring at him as he tried to calm down. Hazel didn't seem surprised or even deterred. Just this looking-through type stare, as if he saw something beyond the veil that no one was ready to acknowledge. Then he turned his gaze back to the ceiling. "My mistake."

It looked like Qrow wanted to ask more, but he just lowered his head, trying to conserve himself. So Peach spoke in his stead, "This person is likely assuming Raven Branwen's identity for… some reason. What do they want? How do you even know this information?"

"Did you think that every Hunter in the world answered the Superior's call? Did you believe every person who rebelled against your master flocked to my cause? I sought to root out evil from its source and dismantle the system that sustained it entirely. Raven, or the person who flaunts her name, did not believe the system could be destroyed, and so she fled and hid and waited. Now, the inevitable clash with my sister's murderer has concluded, and has left the organization considerably weakened, and the populace closer than ever to a truth they are not prepared to face. This individual will act. As will others. There were those who fought with me, but for their own twisted purposes, rather than a shared drive to bring down an unjust system. Roman Torchwick is one such."

"He's been on our wanted list for years. That is hardly a warning." said Oobleck.

"Then you know he goes where the money flows. And in these uncertain times, the money of the corrupt can flow in any direction."

"What about Tyrian Callows?"

Jaune at first wondered who had asked, but when he saw everyone looking at him, he wondered why he'd said that. He didn't know who he was talking about. Never even heard the name before, as far as he could remember.

"I see he's marked you." said Hazel, "Do you recall your encounter with him?"

Jaune shook his head. "Don't even know who he is."

Hazel frowned like he'd remembered a particularly nasty memory. "He's a vile creature. And I do mean creature, for he is nothing like a human. He loves to play with his prey."

Peach, notably, looked shaken. Touching the marks on Jaune's face like they might give her some clue. "Why Jaune?"

"Who can know the reasoning of a mad dog?"

"These people…" asked Cinder, "Are they affiliated with the current Thrones?"

"It's possible. Velvet Scarlatina was the only member of the latest Thrones generation that came to my side. There could be some which joined your Raven imposter, and there could be some in league with Tyrian Callows. I doubt the latter, as he had a history of killing his associates and trainees. As for Scarlatina, she is dead."

Jaune pursed his lips. Nothing needed to be said about that. He hadn't been seeing Velvet lately, and he rather hoped that now was the end of it. He'd done as she'd asked and remembered her, avenged her death. He hoped now her spirit was resting in peace.

"This is quite a generous warning," said Cinder, not even trying to hide her suspicion.

"You will come to be glad for it. If you survive what's coming."

Now Jaune wanted to get to his real questions. "What's the Truth?"

Hazel glanced at him with one eye. It looked like he had a question in response, like how Jaune knew about it, but must have decided the answer was pointless. Or just didn't care enough to ask. "Do you know of a concept called an Infohazard?"

Jaune looked around at the others, but they were just staring at him, no answers seemed forthcoming. Jaune turned back to Hazel. "Never heard of it."

"It is a piece of factual information. A truth, if you will. One which poses incredible psychological danger to those who hear it. It is something which no individual wishes to know, for learning it, will cause a psychotic meltdown."

"The hell? How can just learning about something make people go crazy? That's insane." asked Qrow. "What kind of information could something like that be?"

"It can be anything, for it depends on the individual. One person's truth is different from another's. It is a kind of personal weakness, which when struck, instantaneously floods the victim with Despair. You don't come back from it. Not ever. When you look at the Shards of the Brain, it is your personal Infohazard which is brought to the fore of your mind, in most cases resulting in brain-death or perpetual psychosis. Learning the Truth, your Truth, changes you. Always."

"I've never heard of such a thing," whispered. Oobleck.

"Me either," said Peach.

"Nor I." said Ironwood. "How do you know about it?"

"Because this concept is taught only to the Vicar. The Superior's chosen vessel. Tyrian Callows encountered his Truth, and it changed him forever. Such is his strength though, that he did not succumb to the effects in the normal manner. Instead of becoming brain-dead, he simply became… something else. Elevated beyond humanity. He's become a thing. A creature. A concept. Perhaps even a god. He became… like the Superior, in a way."

Jaune gasped. "Wait. I saw the Superior give some rebels a choice between death or the truth. Those who chose the truth just went insane. Did he know all of their Truths?"

"Considering the Superior's abilities, I would say so. The Superior knew my Truth as well — that the death of my beloved sister would be the death of me — and so he brought this truth to fruition in order to break me."

"Well clearly it didn't work." Peach retorted, "You're still sane."

Hazel chuckled. A derisive, bitter chuckle like he'd forgotten what it meant to laugh with joy. "Am I? You know me only for what I've shown you. What you have seen and heard. I used to be a happy man. Indeed, I may have had a wife, children, and a promising future. I always believed I would. I was successful and respected and praised as a hero. By all rights, my life should have gone perfectly." The frown returned. "Now look at me. A husk of what I once was, and not likely to go back. Why would I? How could I? I slaughtered thousands with these very hands in the name of justice. I bathed in blood in my quest for revenge. For what? To end up here?" That single eye glared an unhinged scorn into all six of them. "So tell me, do you truly believe I have not gone mad?"

No one answered that. No one wanted to. No one needed to.

"And so I was broken, and I became something else. That is the danger the Truth poses. Once learned, you change forever, if not given the mercy of brain-death. There is no going back to what you once were. This applies to all things, every person, and perhaps, even our very world."

"What do you mean?" asked Peach.

"Have you ever questioned why the Heart Worlds must be kept secret? Obvious reasons aside, think about it. Why specifically is our society apparently so unready for such a reveal? What is it that makes the people of this world unready for the reality of the world they live in? I once spoke to the Superior about this. I had a theory, and when I explained it… he commanded me never to speak of it again."

"A theory?" said Ironwood, stepping up to the bars. "What is it? Tell us."

"I believe the existence of Heart Worlds, the existence of alternate planes, is itself an Infohazard. One which singularly poses a tremendous danger to the fabric of our world, to time and space itself. I refer to it as the Despair Code. A piece of information which, if learned by enough people, will result in… a shift in the physics of our universe, and all universes associated."

The six of them looked amongst each other. Passing around the most silent and mos loud 'What the fuck' Jaune had ever seen. Then Cinder broke the barrier of shock. "Are you saying the existence of Heart Worlds, of Despair, and Grimm and all… that is some kind of collective Infohazard? That is your supposed Despair Code?"

"Yes."

It made sense, Jaune marveled. Obviously the reveal of Heart Worlds could cause a massive disruption in society, but this meant more than culture shock. It sounded like this change would have a tangible, physical effect. Or metaphysical, to be exact. "What would it cause?"

"I don't know. Like I said, it is a mere theory."

"Then, why tell us this? Why?"

"Have you not been watching the news? The secret is spreading more quickly than ever, and I have sensed a change in the air. So have you, yes, Mister Arc? I do not believe any of us are ready for what may happen. Perhaps it is nothing, and my theory is simply the ramblings of a madman." Hazel stared at them. "Well, I suppose you'd better get the populace under control, before the news spreads more. Your war with me has ended… but I am not the only dangerous thing in this world. And the fallout of our actions, Mister Arc, have changed this world forever. I ask you this… are you prepared to live in a wholly different world?" Hazel closed his eyes and took a breath. "I certainly hope you care. For whatever it turns out to be, I want no part of it."

It happened so quickly that Jaune almost didn't register it. Hazel had bitten right through his tongue and snapped it off in a single bite, and his mouth flooded with blood. The adults fumbled in horrified shock, panicking for the keys to the lock, only to find that the keyhole had been jammed somehow. Ironwood tried to pull the bars, but they were new and far too strong. It didn't take more than a minute for Hazel Rainart to choke to death on his own blood. His face was coated red by the end.

Minutes later, medics got the door open, and Ironwood commanded them to try and save Hazel's life, but even he did not sound hopeful. All Jaune could do was stand there and stare at the corpse. The blood. Something about it was creepingly familiar. Jaune noticed that Hazel no longer looked so rigid and stiff. He'd finally relaxed, found peace, but only in death. Was that what his sister's death had done to him? His Truth? Cursed him to endless torment until his last moment alive?

The idea made his own blood run cold.

---

There was only the sound of the limo in drive as they were escorted away from the prison. None of the passengers appeared in the mood to talk. What even was there to say? Peach held Jaune close to her, and he wondered if it was for his sake or herself. But he didn't complain. It was distressing enough, contending with the fact that one of the strongest men Jaune had ever met had killed himself, and in a fashion nothing short of morbid. Jaune found himself using one hand to hold onto his aunt, if only to steady himself.

He thought of maybe extending a hand to Cinder, but wasn't sure how she'd react. She looked calm and controlled as usual, but she was hugging her arms now, and her fingers erratically drummed her upper arm like she was trying to keep busy. Trying to do something other than thinking about what happened. Qrow wore the world's heavies scowl, eyes narrowed to angry slits like he was preparing for a fight. No doubt he was right to. Even if it was hard to say which enemies would come for them first.

Oobleck had been wiping his glasses for almost ten minutes. Like Cinder, probably a way to keep his thoughts occupied on something other than Hazel's death. But he wore a scowl of similar intensity to Qrow, but instead it seemed like he was juggling some complicated math in his head and struggling to find an answer.

Ironwood was the calmest of them all. Arms folded, face neutral, soft eyes staring at the car floor. Still, occasionally Jaune would see the man tap his foot impatiently, regularly having to make himself stop, then resuming a short time later. In all, no one had escaped that interview unbothered. The air was tense, and for good reason.

"Enemies on every side," said Ironwood, massaging his eyes with one hand. "Quite a dilemma. We have truly opened the floodgates now."

"Don't you mean me?" said Jaune.

Ironwood shook his head. "Though your part is no doubt significant, the seeds of chaos and rebellion had been sown far before you got involved. You, Mister Arc, were simply the nail in the proverbial coffin, so to speak."

"What do we do, about everything Hazel said? Don't we need a plan?"

"The plan is simple. We prepare," said Oobleck. "The organization's interests have not changed. We must focus on maintaining public safety and security. This is an unstable time. It is best to face each obstacle as it comes."

"What about Hazel's theory?" said Qrow, gruffly.

"Hm. It is a disturbing concept that cannot be simply ignored. But the man said it himself, it is only a theory. For now, we treat it as such. I will have the research department look into this theory of his, but for now, our jobs have not changed. In any case, if it is true, it cannot come to fruition if we take control of the spread of information. We have plenty of time to bring things under control. The Superior is gone, and for now, we must function without a proper figurehead." Oobleck looked around at everyone, commanding their attention with just a look. "Now is not the time to become discouraged. Let us put aside past squabbles. The fact is if we are not united in opposition to the forces that threaten our world, we will not survive." Oobleck bowed his head to everyone. "I ask you all for your cooperation in protecting our people. Please."

Jaune never thought he'd see a side to Oobleck like this, but then lately so much had happened that he could never have anticipated. He had thought about cutting ties with the Organization, just flipping them the bird and going off to do what he wanted with his powers… but then wasn't that exactly what Hazel had done? Look only what became of him. So Jaune pulled out of his aunt's embrace and spoke to her first. "Aunt Peach… I won't be your apprentice anymore."

Peach adopted a look of pure shock. "What? Honey,"

"I quit." He finalized. Then he pointed at Oobleck and Ironwood. "And you two. I'm not gonna be your subordinate anymore. I want to help and do my part, but not with a leash around my neck. I will not be your goddamn dog. I won't take orders, and I won't take threats. Hazel warned us about our enemies, but let me inform you of one he forgot," Jaune stabbed himself in the chest with his thumb. It felt a little dramatic, but he tried to rise above it by focusing on his anger. "I'd rather be allies than enemies, because you know by now what I'll do to the latter. So yeah, now is the time to work together, but don't get it twisted. If you screw me, or my family, or my friends, or anyone I know… the only evidence of you and your secret club I leave behind will be in people's memories of you. I'll kill you all, straight up."

Naturally the car was silent for a few awkward moments, and Jaune made sure to hold Ironwood's and Oobleck's gazes, showing them that he was not kidding around.

Eventually, Oobleck put back on his glasses and gave a single, sure nod. "Very well."

Ironwood actually looked kind of impressed, pushing out his bottom with a nod. "Those are very reasonable and fair terms, Mister Arc. You are far more valuable as an ally than otherwise. Should I ever cause offense, I hope you'll allow me to explain myself first, and perhaps spare me an undue death?"

Jaune nodded. "I promise to be cooperative."

Ironwood held out his hand. "Allies, then?"

Jaune hesitated, but saw no other way forward. He still didn't fully trust Ironwood or Oobleck, but for now it was better to be on their good side. "Allies."

Jaune sat back in his chair, thinking he might be bombarded with his aunt's questions and protests, but for now she seemed content that the atmosphere was no longer tense. He caught Cinder looking at him and met her eyes. She passed him a subtle, approving nod, and he gladly returned it.

The rest of the drive carried on in relative silence, but it was hardly awkward sine they'd re-entered downtown Vale, and the chaos of the city greeted them. Hey got caught up in a traffic detour, turning them off from the street that passed St. Catherines Church, the one Jaune had seen on the news yesterday. And just like then, the place was absolutely overrun with revelers and worshippers. It was one thing to hear it on the news, but seeing so many people flocking into that giant building was both amazing and a little scary. Still, with the detour, they'd be there for a while, so Jaune decided to pass the time by watching the churchgoers.

He hadn't been looking for more than a minute when something caught his eye. No, someone.

It was a woman. Looked maybe in her early to mid forties. She was wearing this strange white dress. A sleeveless two piece dress with a blue neckpiece. The skirt flowed in the wind, only that should have been impossible since there was no evidence of a breeze among other people's clothing. The woman wore these golden vambraces on her wrists, like armor pieces, giving her this strange medieval look. Made her seem displaced in time. Of course, all that was catching and definitely peculiar, but it was her face that demanded most of Jaune's attention.

The long golden hair. A distinct, familiar color. Falling over her shoulder in a shining river. Bright blue eyes, the color of a clear blue sky, and just as wistful. She was beautiful, no doubt, but not in the sense that Jaune found himself attracted to her. No, this was something else. This was a face he recognized, a face he'd seen all his life perhaps. The woman was looking at him, he noticed. She was looking at him, he noticed. Even from so far away, he could tell. Standing among those people, all scurrying past her as if she was some random nobody, Jaune felt his breath catch in his throat, and a swelling of emotion was rising from the deepest darkest parts of his heart. His woman wasn't a nobody, not to him. No. She was the most important, most necessary, most beloved thing in Jaune's seventeen years of life.

Something was wrong.

Jaune's heart leapt with unimaginable shock, unexplainable horror, and unparalleled as he said, "Mom."

"What is it, honey?" he heard Aunt Peach say.

Every thought left Jaune's head. He scrambled away from Peach, pushed the door open, ignored everyone's screams of protest, and darted out into the street. His senses were suddenly attacked by countless sounds—honking cars, people clamoring and yelling, the booming church bell. He heard Qrow call him, and Cinder too, but he didn't care. He saw the woman again, his mother, now walking into the church, hair swaying behind her.

"Mom!" Jaune shouted, and darted for her. He pushed through the crowd, pushed them out of his way despite their protests, constantly looking for a sign of her. He was breathing hard and his head was spinning. Felt like something was scratching his brain. He ran up the stairs as quickly as he could.

Once he entered the building, the sight made him pause. The congregation hall was teeming with the noise of hundreds of people, and the endless rows of seating were already so full that people were sitting shoulder to shoulder, children in their parent's laps, bags on children's laps. Some adults even sat on top of each other. Those who couldn't get a seat had migrated to the floor, and even that was getting so full that the floor was starting to vanish. People had to step over and around each other just to squeeze into tight patches of the hard floor. Jaune saw a statue of the Brother of Light, standing high at the end of the podium, his dragon form twisting around his body.

There was a heavy-set old man standing at the statue's feet, the church's Father most likely, and he was sifting through the pages of his holy book, looking like a schoolboy trying to find the page he'd left off at in the previous lecture. Countless faces surrounded Jaune on every side, none of which looked like his mother.

"Jaune!" Someone caught up. He almost thought it was his mom, but it was just Aunt Peach. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?"

"Mom. I saw her. Where is…?" Jaune looked around him, stepping further inside the church, breath still coming fast. "I just saw her! We gotta find her!"

Again he pulled away, moving amongst the crowd, ignoring their complaints. He found some stairs and leaped up them, pushing past those on it, and made it up to the second floor stands, where people watched the proceedings from above. Yes, a vantage point. That would make finding her easier. So Jaune set to his search, seeing blonde hair everywhere but none of which looked familiar. How had he lost her already? Was she not even here? Was he seeing things again? No, please anything but his mind playing tricks on him again. He didn't think he'd be able to handle that. She'd been so close. Jaune refused to believe it was just some trick. But when had she gotten out of the hospital? Had she called Dad? Why was she here? So many questions, all which would be answered when he found her.

Jaune looked over the railing to the crowd down below. Looking, looking desperately. Someone grabbed his upper arm and he tried to pull away, but their grip was too strong. It was Qrow and he had a look like he was about to do something he might quickly regret, but had resolved to do it anyway.

"Jaune, listen, your mother is—"

"Qrow, don't tell him!" came Peach, grabbing Jaune's other arm.

"This has gone on long enough, Vick! You can't keep lying to him!"

"He's not ready!"

Jaune had no idea what these insane people were talking about, so he just kept looking for his mom. Where? Somewhere. Had to be somewhere. Had to be here. Where was she? Where was—

Qrow pulled Jaune away from the railing, took him by the shoulders, forced him to look in his eyes. For a moment, Jaune felt a surge of terror at his expression. Guilty as a murderer with a conscience. "Jaune, listen! She's not here. I'm sorry but your mom, she's de—"

Just then, Jaune saw something out of the corner of his eye. Down on the floor, closest to the podium. His heart lurched with recognition. He pulled free from Qrow and pointed down there for all to see. "There she is! It's mom!

Qrow was roaring now. "Wake up, Jaune! She's dead! She's—"

Then he looked to where Jaune was pointing. Down in the crowd, squished in amongst some children, was Jaune's mom. Real and in the flesh. He knew it. He knew he'd seen her.

"Honey you…" Then Peach looked down there as well, and Jaune heard her shudder. "No…"

Qrow was wordless, and so too was Cinder, Ironwood, and Oobleck, who'd joined by now and saw what Jaune saw. The truth. Jaune's mom looked up, gave them a greeting wave and a smile. Jaune could help but smile and wave back. He had to get down there, but before he could, his mom raised up her hand in a stopping motion. Telling him to wait, for some reason. Then she put a finger in front of her lips, commanding him to be quiet. He might have wondered why, but then he noticed the entire church had gone silent. The sermon was beginning.

"Children of the Lord of Light!" called the Father, clutching the book to his chest with one hand, flourishing his other arm at the congregation. "The new world is upon us!"

Jaune tuned out of the big oaf's nonsense. He just stared down at his mother, who herself watched the proceedings with calm, but rapt attention. Nothing about her seemed fake or ethereal, and by now everyone else had seen her too. She was definitely real, definitely free from that stupid mental ward, and definitely not dead like Qrow was saying. He was insane for even suggesting it. For some reason, looking at his mom made his throat hurt. Hurt badly, like something was pressing on it. Jaune rubbed his neck to soothe the pain, while the torrent in his mind struggled and failed to conjure a picture.

He remembered something. Heat. Steam. Bubbles.

In the middle of the Father's speech, Jaune's Mom stood up. She started walking toward the stage, and somehow never needed to step over people. They simply moved out of her way, as if she was some plague they didn't want to be anywhere near. The Father saw her now too, his speech slowing to a gradual death as she climbed the stairs up to the platform. Her smile was so radiant, so patient, so tranquil, that the head of the church wordlessly stepped away, face stricken with fear and awe. Almost as if he recognized her as something else. Something not human.

Jaune's Mom turned to the crowd, and when she started to speak, her voice was both alluring and haunting. "My father told me every day when we reaped the crop… inside us all is wickedness. When I was born, he named me Joy, and prayed it would ward off the temptations of man, the allure of the dark one," She smiled sadly. A failure's smile. "But evil is drawn to good like humanity is drawn to sin. The name I was given was not a shield from evil, but an invitation."

Something was wrong. Water. Warm water. It was everywhere.

Jaune's Mom clasped her hands and looked up toward the ceiling. "In my girlhood, I prayed all the time. In my church back home. In the shed alone by the chicken feed. At my bedside morning and night. I prayed for our God, our Lord, the Brother of Light, to protect me from the evils of this world. To protect me from his wicked brother, the Devil, the adversary, the evil one, the Brother of Dark. For his followers whispered into my head, in a thousand voices, the voices of men and women and children, and he told me to commit acts of sin. I was favored by evil itself, and only the Lord's light could protect me. I prayed and I prayed."

Her hands unclasped, but she kept staring up, her face the picture of disillusionment. "Why did our lord never answer?"

There was a collective gasp, a wave of whispers, and even Jaune could tell that this kind of talk in a church could not be good. The fact that it was his mother was saying it made it even crazier. Still, what did he care? She could curse any god she wanted, so long as they could go home together at the end of it. He was fighting with himself not to run down there and join her.

"The devil came to me in many ways. Especially in the form of those you love. In my naivety, I failed to see the devil in those around me, in those who claimed to love me."

"Joy…" Peach whispered, hands over her mouth.

"One day, the devil whispered to me. That he would come to me in a new form. One I could not anticipate." She looked up, raised her guiding hand to him. "Jaune, my sweet baby boy, come to mommy."

Jaune didn't waste time. No one even tried to stop him, no one except…

Aunt Peach grabbed his wrist. There was desperation in her eyes, she looked at him pleadingly, as if he was about to make a mistake he couldn't come back from. "Jaune, I have something to tell you. The truth is—"

"Truth?" Jaune snapped, snatching free from her for the hundredth time. "All you've done since I got here is lie to me about everything! You just want to control me! I don't care!"

She reached for him again. "Please, baby, I—"

Jaune roared at the top of his lungs. "Stop it! I'm not your baby! You are not my Mom!"

Jaune hurried down the stairs. He didn't care about anything else right now. Screw everything else in the world. He rushed up to the stage, but stopped before he could climb the stairs. Now that the moment came, so close to her, he found himself terribly afraid. Was he hallucinating? Was it really the same woman? He couldn't trust his own mind.

But his mom smiled and dismissed all those fears as she held her arms out wide. "It's okay, honey. I'm here."

Jaune had slowed himself down so he didn't bowl her over, but finally, after nine years of nothing so much as a word from her, Jaune hugged his mother. He hugged her tight and he shook and he cried. He was taller than her now, which was so strange, as he could only remember pressing his face into her stomach, compared to now where he lay his head on her shoulder. It was the happiest he'd ever been. Now absolutely everything would be good again. His family was whole. They could go home together and celebrate her miracle of a return. All was right with the world.

Something was wrong.

She was looking down on him. They giggled together. The steam obscured her face a little. He was taking a bath.

"My son," said Jaune's mom tenderly, "This darling, sweet boy. Pure as fresh snow. My angel. But you see, even a demon was once an angel. And they weaponized their beauty, their elegance, their knowledge, to seduce and tempt the darkness of men. As a girl, the dark one came to me as my father, whose fear of evil had him whipping me until I bled when I first menstruated. He came to me again when I was a woman grown as my sister, who committed against me the ultimate betrayal. Finally, he appeared to me when I was a mother… in the form of this boy. "

Jaune felt his grip on her loosen. He stepped back, looked into her eyes, and saw something he'd never thought was possible. His mother looking right at him with pure hatred.

She was smiling, But it wasn't a happy one. It clashed disarmingly with the wrinkles in her face, twisted with visible scorn, eyes popping with unrestrained wrath. It was as if she was looking at a monster. A monster that had killed her family and left her to suffer the pain alone. That hatred that called for a response. For vengeance. Aimed at him. Her son.

Warm water, bubbles, steam. He was in the tub. Someone was with him, leaning over, helping him wash while giggling.

Jaune's mom pointed a clawing finger at him. "This thing! This cursed creature was sent upon me by the evil one! Foretold to bring me to ruin, and all my loved ones!"

He was being washed. He was laughing. Washed by his Mommy. They were having so much fun… until they weren't. Her eyes had suddenly changed. No longer shining with life, but dry and gray as gravestone. Dead eyes. Like she'd lost consciousness.

Her hands wrapped around his little neck.

"I waited every day for him to become a monster. I waited with horror in my heart for the devil to come and destroy me and my family. Day after day, month after month, year after year… until I could wait no further."

Her hands squeezed. He couldn't breathe. He stared into her dead eyes.

"It had to be done. Was I to continue to suffer? No. I would meet the devil's challenge, and slay his emissary before it could hurt me and my daughters!"

He was plunged into the water. Panic took over. He kicked, gurgled, pawed at her hands. His movements were not his own anymore. Desperate to survive.

"But I failed…"

"Joy! Stop!" His father's voice. Suddenly, the squeezing had stopped. But his lungs still burned. The soapy water stung his eyes.

"The devil won again." Jaune's Mom said, "And eventually, his emissary would bring me to my end in my second attempt to slay him. But to endure is divine, and the strong and dedicated are blessed by our lord. I have returned, as surely as the tide, to complete the necessary work. To finish what I started."

She pointed at Jaune. Her face was hysteria itself. Laughing with tears in her eyes. "You wicked child! You, born of wrath and lust and envy! Who will plunge this world into endless chaos! You will be judged by the holy light of the Lord!"

Jaune fell to his knees, unable to understand as he stared up at this woman. His mom. Saying these horrible things. All while his mind was spinning with twisted memories. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating again or not.

His mother conjured something in her hand. It appeared in a flash of light. A sword. How? She raised it above her head, a mad look in her eye, arching back so that her blow came down with all her weight. The congregation gasped in horror. "Now…" she hissed. "Now!"

"Excuse me."

Jaune's mother turned. A little boy had come up onto the stage. He tugged her skirt to get her attention, seeming oblivious to the stares of hundreds of people. But there was something strange about him. Short blonde hair, a shirt and shorts, probably seven or eight years old. He looked just like any normal child.

Except for the black gaps where his eyes were supposed to be.

He stared up at Jaune's Mom, clueless to what was happening around him. He asked, "Have you seen my eyes?"

Then, havoc.

Jaune's mother burst into a horrified, traumatized scream. A high, screeching wail like she had seen death itself and her mortal brain could not comprehend it. Her mouth stretched past realistic proportions, her hair floated and flapped about her face, her skin began to pale. A scream which sounded so familiar. Then the boy began to scream too, the two eye holes tearing wider, little hands clawing at his face. Mother and son screamed together, as if the existence of the other defied some cosmic law.

Someone was calling Jaune's name, but he couldn't think. Barely heard it over the panicking crowd, all screaming like they were being murdered.

Something was wrong.

Ah, I understand now. The Superior's power governs the many worlds. It is the key which permits their existence. But now his power is ours, and the bridge to our world always crossed easily into new domains through our despair. We have joined these lands in harmonious bedlam. Even your surface world cannot escape this unprecedented union. Quite a discovery. It seems we are fated to bring this world to an end, and usher in one anew. How very interesting.

Someone grabbed Jaune. Pulled him to his feet. They were moving from the stage, joining the crowd, Jaune tried to look back but Ironwood was blocking his sight. Despite that, Mother and child continued to scream.

The worlds begin to move. Begin to merge. And why not? The chains of law have been undone. The Worm, scion of order, has been eliminated. What has replaced him? You. And what are you, if not the very God of chaos?

Two pairs of hands had his arms, preventing him from escape, but Jaune didn't even try. He saw that they were at the church's doors, closed for some reason. People were trying to push them open.

This is going to be so much fun. Everything is in disorder, the rules have been broken. Anything can happen. Anything will happen.

Pushing through. Yelling. Reached the doors. Cinder and Oobleck were pushing. Straining.

From above, the cathedral bell boomed and echoed.

Do you hear it? It is the beckoning of a brand new world and a brand new way. Rejoice, surface dwellers. As the infinite worlds converge to become one. Oh, this will surely be a spectacle worth the songs!

The doors burst open.

And Jaune was falling.

Everyone was falling. Hundreds of people screaming as they plummeted through a dark void, shards of glass spinning around them. Countless white stars became shooting rays of light, gargantuan planets were millisecond images, passing by in their thousands. Jaune felt disoriented, sick, confused, as memories new and old found recess in the back of his mind, far from manual access.

What was going on? How had he gotten here? Why was he falling? And then, he landed.

The world was an absolute clusterfuck.

One part of the land looked like the ocean, except it was shallow enough to stand in, and sure enough people were running through it like they were trying to escape something. That something was a horde of Grimm. Yeti, Ursae, Beowolves, and many more had come barreling from another side of the land, where there was deep snow and trees twisted by a long winter. On the ocean side, black clouds gathered and rippled with lightning, thunder grumbling. On the snow side, the clouds were just as white, and beckoned to a glowing sun that looked like it belonged in the summer rather than winter.

There was some laughter. An arrogant, self-assured laugh like a king whose peasants dared to dictate to him. Standing on top of a very out of place modern building was Alter-Neptune, cackling like a braggart as lightning coursed his body and trident. "You dare to bring the storm before me, queen of summer? Your haughtiness does you no favors!"

Queen? Jaune looked the other way, and he saw Alter-Ruby standing in the open snow field, Grimm rushing past her in favor of easier game. Her blindfold was gone and her eyes burned with a powerful silver light. She whipped her scythe and the wind swirled violently around her, looking like the beginnings of a massive tornado. And even though the wind screamed loud, her commanding voice could be heard over it. "Begone from my kingdom, foolish invader!"

"Your kingdom?" Alter-Neptune scoffed, "I rule these seas! I and no other!"

"Then you will rule from your coffin."

They crossed the divide between their two lands in an instant. Wind and lightning met. Weapons clashing and causing a wave of water on one end, a wave of snow on the other. They moved fast as their respective powers, and no less deadly for it, as their battle laid waste to everything around them. Any foolish Grimm that dared to intervene was instantly vaporized. But they weren't the only ones fighting.

Grimm were swarming about the nonsensical land, and even they seemed confused by it. Apex's were swimming in the air, Minotaurs burst from the sea, Jackalopes emerged from the earth. One had jumped at a civilian, but something had cut it in two. One of the Blessed from Ruby's Heart World, Weiss. She did not stop to talk and went right back into action, cutting down Grimm in their dozens.

All around, Jaune was seeing things that weren't supposed to be happening. The great pink sakura trees of Blake's world were dotted about the landscape, even in places no trees like it should grow. The violent winds ripped petals from their branches, filling the air like they were falling rain instead. A portion of the sky was a dark pink with splotches of black and they sprouted the tall skyscrapers from Peach's world, except the buildings protruded upside down from the sky, and had dragon grimm circling them. Lightning was flashing down from there, and Jaune saw that it was Alter-Adam, clipping dragon wings and sending them falling from a thousand miles high. The Apostle's angels didn't fight the Grimm, but rather taunted and played with them like children picking up bugs. They were giggling like psychopaths, playfully tearing the monsters apart with childish glee, saving people from early deaths.

There were even things Jaune had never seen before. Steam-powered mechanical sea-faring ships that fired magic cannons at flying Grimm. Colorful people wearing elaborate dresses dancing among the corpses of the Grimm and singing a song in an unknown language. Witches on broomsticks casting spells and raining down hell. Alien spacecraft shooting lasers at the sky. There were actual real life whales, like actual whales bursting from the clouds, leaving massive holes that revealed patches of space beyond. A volcano exploded in the distance, shooting lava so high into the air. The lava plume hit the surface of the sky and began to spread like it had touched solid ground.

"Jaune! Miss Peach!" Sun was running up to them. No, not the Sun from Ruby's world, but the real Sun. He had blood on his temple, which thankfully seemed the worst of his injuries. More apparently, he looked entirely freaked out and terrified, as any normal person would be in this insanity. "Are you okay? Do you know what's going on?

Someone must have rushed to his rescue, because Jaune felt someone let him go. It was Aunt Peach, running up to look him up and down. Jaune noticed she was in her Heart World outfit. "Don't panic. It'll be alright. Was anyone with you?"

Oobleck had already jumped into action to destroy a team of Ursa coming for them. Cinder had joined him, a mad smile on her face as she cut the monster's down. Jaune could only stand there, staring at it all. His mind was numb. He wasn't thinking about anything. How could he? After having learned so much, finally getting answers, suddenly new questions, new mysteries popped up. It never ends with you, Ruby had said. She couldn't have known how right she was.

"What is this?" Jaune whispered in disbelief.

Ironwood looked down at him, then out at the mad world before them. "I could not say, Mister Arc." He summoned a weapon. A gun, only it seemed made entirely from steel, like the kind a knight's armor was made from. Only now did he see that Ironwood was wearing a knight's armor too. Except instead of a helm, he wore a steel cowboy hat, and had a massive hammer hanging on his back. He turned to Jaune with a resolute frown, "But answers do not come to those who wait. We must find them ourselves. Come, Mister Arc. There is work to be done."

And the man sprang into action, blowing off the head of a Deathstalker and Minotaur with one shot each. Throwing dozens of Beowolves into the air with a single ground slam from his hammer.

So Jaune slapped himself. What was he doing pitying himself right now? He had to get it together. Right now, people needed his help. There'd be time to think about everything later.

Jaune summoned Crocea Mors, took in the great expanse with breath. Smelled like adventure, and battle, and mystery, and a future. Everything was a mess, people were in danger, and probably nothing was going to be the same anymore. What else was new? Still, Jaune had to admit, he really did like this job. Loved it, even. Why not enjoy every second?

Jaune leaped into battle, slayed Grimm by the hundreds, and laughed all the way.

---

Here we are. At the end of Game of Hearts Part 1.

It has been a super fun journey. I didn't expect this story to blow up like it did, so I have you all to thank for enjoying it and staying engaged. Now of course, this isn't the end. It is only one-third of the entire story. Think of it as my end of pre-timeskip One Piece. Yes, there is still so much more to come.

But for now, I'm going to put this story down and pick up the stories I haven't finished. Likely, it will be a while before I come back to GOH, but I'm not done with fanfiction in the slightest. I plan to keep writing well into the future. Let me know your overall feelings of Game of Hearts. I'd like to know what you most enjoyed, what you think could be improved or added in the future, and any potential ideas you might like to see done.

Thank you all so much for being here and I'll see you in the next one.

ISA