Beacon and Patch glowed brightly in Vale's sky.

The air was thick with the smell of damp leaves, the rustling of branches swaying gently in the breeze, and the distant hum of wildlife calling out from the depths of Forever Fall. Blake's boots crunched softly against the wet ground as she walked beside Adam, the only sound aside from their breathing. She glanced at him every so often, her face tight, her thoughts pounding in her head like a thousand drumming feet.

Adam's expression remained stoic, his amber eyes fixed on the path ahead. He walked with a certain purpose, each step calculated, as if the weight of their mission was already settled in his mind. Neither said anything, but Blake knew Adam could still feel her repressed anxiety, just as she could feel a faint rage thrumming beneath the calm waves of his exterior. No, not calm waves.

A taut rope, fit to snap.

Blake swallowed, fighting the unease that crept up her spine. She knew Adam's resolve was unshakable when it came to the cause, but she wasn't so sure about the methods. Hijacking a train full of precious gas was one thing- endangering innocent lives was another. And Adam wasn't exactly known for his restraint. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her tongue.

Adam glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his lips pulling downward into a frown. "Stop questioning," he snapped, his temper flaring briefly. "We're doing what we must to survive, Blake. You should know that better than anyone."

Blake said nothing, but her mind continued to churn. She had followed Adam into the depths of the White Fang for a reason. She had seen the injustices they fought against, the corrupt systems that strangled the Faunus. But every time they crossed a line like this, every time she saw Adam use more extreme methods, she felt that old, familiar fear creeping back in. The fear of what they might become if they let the fight consume them entirely. She didn't want to go down that path. Not any more than she already had.

They reached the hovertrain station, concealed in the trees. The massive vehicle loomed ahead of them, ready to depart. The station was a strange, surreal place- seemingly abandoned, but still operating like a lifeless cog in a much larger machine. The hum of the train's engines filled the air as it idled, waiting for the moment it could set off. Adam turned to her, his expression hard as stone.

"Remember, Blake," he said, his voice like steel, "we do this together. No second thoughts. This is the way forward."

Without another word, he leaped into action, using the Force to enhance his speed as he made his way toward the train's rear car. His body moved like liquid, a perfect blend of power and grace. It was a skill that Blake had seen him master over the years, honed by countless battles and conflicts. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what the end result would be. Blake hesitated for a moment, her hand brushing the hilt of her own lightsaber. She was unsure, but she had no choice. Adam was already halfway through his plan, and she knew there would be no turning back.

Blake took a deep breath and followed. The thick air seemed to grow heavier with each step, pressing in on her from all sides, suffocating her in its weight. She could feel the presence of the train workers ahead- innocents simply trying to make a living. Even if that living was working for the Schnee Tibanna Co.

The train began to move.

Blake and Adam clambered onto the roof of the train, and a trill went through her as they tripped a silent alarm. Atlesian droids, sleek and efficient, appeared from hidden compartments along the car, deploying from the shadows like predatory machines. Their footsteps were silent, their movements quick and deadly.

"Damn Atlas!" Adam shouted as he drew Wilt, a vicious snarl spreading across his face as the crimson blade flashed into existence. It cast his masked face in a dark light, wind ripping at his hair as the hovertrain picked up speed. "Never making it easy for us!"

Blake's heart skipped a beat as she ignited her own blade, the violet beam a comfort against Adam's brutal red. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The Force guided her as she leapt into action, a blur of motion as she swung her blade, deflecting blaster bolts and cutting down droid after droid. The droids were relentless—fast, calculated, and precise. For every one they destroyed two more seemed to take its place, their red optics glowing ominously as they advanced.

Blake bisected one droid, leaping back as another dumped hot plasma into the space she occupied previously. She twirled her saber, leveling it behind her as the droid flushed its blaster's heat sync. Before it could recover, she flashed forward- impaling the droid and turning with it to shield herself as another let out a burst of repeating fire.

Adam fought with a savage practicality, his lightsaber a blur of lethal motion. He struck fast and brutally, halving one droid and gripping another by its chestplate, whirling around to hurl it headlong into another of its brethren. His snarl had become a manic grin, and for a second Blake swore she could see a sickly yellow glow emanate from the eye-slits of his bone white mask.

Blake kept pace, but her mind kept drifting back to the people on board the train. Something kept tugging at her thoughts, and she nearly took a bolt to the face for the distraction- snapping backwards as it streaked past her.

It took some doing, but the two managed to deal with the droid forces quickly enough. They disabled the alarms and leapt down into the next car.

They were greeted by a burning flash of plasma that split the air between them, forcing them to separate.

Blake's stomach dropped as a hulking suit of armor lumbered towards them. This was no droid, this was a minor Atlesian mech. The blaster charged up again as its pilot locked on. Adam grinned, his frame wild with excitement as sinew tensed.

He burst forward, dodging the next volley of fire easily. He leapt up, rebounding of the wall and bringing his saber down on the mech, sparks flying as the armor deflected the blade. Blake saw Adam snarl, and she sprinted forward to distract the mech with a strike to the back, giving Adam the extra few centimeters necessary to dodge the crushing weight of the mech's enormous arm.

Adam leapt onto the arm, lashing out with a flurry of attacks that sent the mech stumbling, reinforced alloy beginning to give way under the heat of his blade. Blake leaped aside as the mech stumbled, narrowly dodging its heavy feet. Adam stepped back, letting the mech recover slightly, before he deactivated his saber.

Blake felt a chill run down her spine.

The droid advanced, lumbering towards Adam angrily, and the bull faunus snarled furiously. Something cold rippled in the air, and Blake took a step back in fear.

Adam raised a gloved hand, waves of sickening, dark energy vibrating the air within the car., Metal began to screech as the mech rose in the air, and Blake could feel intense fear from its pilot as the alloy started to fold in on itself. Sparks flew from its mechanical joints as its systems overloaded, and a man's scream pierced the air.

"Adam!"

Her words fell on deaf ears, and that sickly yellow glow beneath his mask- that Blake thought she had imagined earlier- was back in full force. He grinned at the metallic carnage, and another trill of fear rippled up Blake's spine.

This time, it was her own fear.

"Adam! Adam stop!"

But he wouldn't. Couldn't. Blake closed her eyes and covered her ears, but she couldn't drown out the noise of metal shrieking and flesh ripping.

By the time Blake opened her eyes, it was long over.

Adam stood tall, breathing heavily, but a crazed, self satisfied smile lit his face. "They won't be delaying us any further."

Blake opened her mouth to speak, to protest, to remind him of the line they couldn't cross, but she couldn't find the words. Her stomach roiled, and she was rooted to the spot. She couldn't stop staring at this… This thing that had replaced her mentor. Her friend. Her…

Adam was already moving, placing charges on the train's cargo compartments. He glanced over at her, his expression cold and unreadable now. There was no room for discussion, no room for hesitation. He was committed.

"I thought we were hijacking the Tibanna?" Blake asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adam didn't answer immediately. Instead, he continued his work, attaching the last of the charges with a steady hand, his movements mechanical and precise. "What of it?" he asked, his tone indifferent.

Blake's heart sank further than she ever thought it could. "The workers. The people on this train. What about them?!"

Adam paused, turning to face her fully now, his expression unreadable. His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, Blake thought she saw the boy she'd joined up with.

But he was gone an instant later. "What about them?"

Blake surged into action, her violet saber crashing out from its silver prison and down onto Adam's head. His shocked expression as Wilt burst forward to deflect her strike seared onto her memory, but she ignored it, using Adam's surprised agony to dash past him, sprinting into the next car.

She reached the coupling mechanism, and with a surge of the Force, she disengaged the rear cars, sending them sailing away as she leapt the gap between them.

The explosion that followed was deafening, shaking the ground beneath her feet. Blake could feel the destruction rip through the train, but she didn't look back. She couldn't look back.

She looked back.
One sickly, yellow eye gazed back at her from a maskless face, a scar burning across his once handsome visage.

What had she done…

Jaune sat in the small, quiet room he had been given at the Beacon Enclave, his hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. It wasn't the sapir blend he was used to, but it was comforting all the same. He gazed out the window at the distant mountains, the vastness of the Beacon landscape stretching out before him. Rolling hills and sprawling forests framed the towering peaks, their snow-capped summits glistening in the sunlight. It was peaceful, breathtaking even, but it felt foreign. It wasn't home. Not like Coruscant had been, with its endless skyscrapers and bustling streets. Nor was it like the High Favor, the Jedi cruiser where he had spent many formative years.

This world felt quieter. Still. And yet, that stillness weighed on him, pressing against his chest like the silence after a battle. It wasn't the silence of peace; it was the silence of absence. There weren't many distractions from his thoughts here.

He took a sip of his tea, savoring the warmth as it spread through him. The people of Remnant seemed obsessed with a strange, bitter beverage they called "coffee," but Jaune hadn't been able to bring himself to like it thus far, it was far too alike to the black swill of Kaffe that Serra had drank so religiously. Tea was far more appetizing to him

A sudden knock at the door startled him, breaking his reverie. He straightened, his hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of his lightsaber where it rested on the table. The door creaked open, and Master Oobleck stepped in, his movements quick and precise, as though his body could barely contain the energy that drove him.

"Ah, Padawan Arc! Apologies for the intrusion," Oobleck said, his voice carrying its usual rapid cadence. "I hope you don't mind if I join you?"

Jaune gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Of course, Master Oobleck."

Oobleck sat down, his sharp green eyes darting around the room before settling on Jaune. He glanced briefly at the tea, his expression crinkling. "A fine choice, tea. Me personally, I much prefer a good cup of coffee!"

Jaune could believe that, given the odd master's eccentric energy. The two sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and their respective beverages. Eventually Master Oobleck cleared his throat, setting his mug gently down on the table, the cerasynth clinking as he did so.

"Tell me young Arc, how are you finding our enclave so far?"

Jaune hesitated, choosing his words carefully. The analog clock- an antique by Coruscanti standards- ticked on diligently, the only source of noise in the room.

"It's… different," he finally replied. "I didn't expect it to be so…chaotic." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Oobleck nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "Chaotic, eh? I always thought it quite serene. Would you care to elaborate?"

"It's different from the Temple on coruscant. Here, there is so much… unbridled emotion. The Jedi here don't have the same reserved calm, they're… Vibrant." Jaune finished diplomatically.

"And why perhaps, do you believe that is?"

Jaune took a moment to gather his thoughts. "The Jedi of Remnant are not trained the same as on Coruscant. Here it's more… Academic. Institutional."

Oobleck smiled, though there was a hint of melancholy in his expression. "Ah, yes. The council. Yes, I suppose our academies would indeed be different from your own. Padawans here are selected from Initiate schools across the system. Their training begins at an early age- usually as young as 13- but is spread across multiple feeder institutions. Afterward, they take a rigorous exam to qualify for one of the four main academies: Beacon, Atlas, Haven, or Shade. Which as you know, each houses several members of the full high council. As for the initiates, once they pass initiation at an academy, they are granted the rank of Padawan."

Jaune frowned, his fingers tightening around his cup. "And their masters?"

"The academies are quite deliberate in the instructors they select," Oobleck assured him. "The masters who teach at these academies are among our most skilled Jedi."

Jaune stared down at his tea, the steam curling into the air like a ghost of the past. "Back home," he began slowly, "a Jedi initiate is given to the Order at a young age, raised in the creche by Crechemasters. I was part of Hawkbat Clan. We trained together, grew together. When the time came, we were chosen by individual masters who guided us personally. It was… a bond of trust, of mutual learning. It wasn't just about skill or exams—it's the duty of a Master to bring their Padawan to knighthood."

"Fascinating. And there were enough teachers to go around for each individual?"

Jaune shook his head. "It's the duty of all Jedi to pass on the teachings of their Master. But… not every initiate was destined for knighthood. A lot went on to be Scholars, Pilots, Farmers…"

"I suppose it isn't much different here, not all Jedi children follow in their parents' footsteps."

He hesitated, his gaze flickering back to Oobleck. "Jedi… they have children here. Families."

Oobleck nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Indeed we do. Our Jedi lineages are an important institution. Families often play a role in shaping young Jedi, passing on their strength in the force, providing new generations to hold back the tide of Grimm."

Jaune's brow furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. "On Coruscant we were discouraged from forming attachments, especially familial ones. It's seen as a distraction, a potential path to the dark side."

"A strict philosophy."

"A necessary one."

"To what end?"

Jaune hesitated, turning the question over in his mind. What was the point in the rule, if it hadn't saved them from the sith in the end?

"I don't know," he admitted finally. "It was intended to protect us."

It didn't.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Oobleck studied him for a moment before leaning forward, his gaze intent but not unkind. "You were a senior Padawan, then?"

Jaune didn't answer immediately, his thoughts drifting to Serra, Master Drallig, and the events of the war that led to his appointment. "Yes," he said finally. "But the rank wasn't handed to me. It came after trials—real trials. Missions that tested everything I was, everything I believed in."

Oobleck nodded, his expression somber. "You are quite young, you know, to have endured such adversity."

Jaune didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the window. He didn't think Oobleck could, to be honest. The man was a peacetime Jedi- a teacher, scholar and historian- but not a soldier. He didn't hold himself like the masters of Coruscant, he wasn't a coiled spring straining against pressure from the outside, ready to leap into action at the drop of a pin.

Jaune was not a master, not a knight… But he was certainly a soldier. An outsider.

The last, that traitorous voice inside whispered.

Sensing Jaune's turmoil, Oobleck stood, his movements uncharacteristically slow. "I won't keep you any longer," he said gently. "But I hope you'll consider taking some time to recover, to heal. And if you're ready, Beacon's first semester begins soon. Perhaps immersing yourself in study and training will provide the clarity you seek."

Jaune nodded absently. "I'll think about it."

With a final nod, Oobleck left the room.

Some weeks later, Jaune stood in the Beacon gardens, the day before Beacon's initiation.

The gardens were a sprawling expanse of greenery, meticulously cultivated yet still wild in appearance, a reminder of nature's raw beauty. Paths wound their way through the space, busy with students chatting in groups, practicing their stances, or simply taking a moment to breathe.

Jaune stood near the edge of a serene pond, his hands resting lightly on the belt of his tunic. He could feel the cacophony of their emotions in the Force—a dizzying mix of nerves and ambition, excitement and doubt. Each new face was a swirl of colors in the Force, vivid and chaotic compared to the muted serenity of the Jedi he'd known on Coruscant. He wondered at their lack of control, their emotions spilling out freely. The Jedi he'd grown up around had been like still reservoirs in the caverns of Illum; these initiates were more like rushing rivers, turbulent and untamed.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly, centering himself as he'd been taught. The Force flowed through him, calming his own anxious thoughts and allowing the ambient energy around him to settle.

Then, a shrill voice broke his concentration.

"Yang! Yang, wait up!"

Jaune opened his eyes in time to see a blonde girl sprinting past him, her golden hair bouncing in loose waves. She didn't so much as glance in his direction, her focus fixed ahead. He blinked, momentarily stunned by her sheer energy. Her gait was unrestrained, almost reckless, and her confident smirk hinted at a personality that demanded attention.

Her attire, however, drew a slight frown from Jaune. It was... unconventional for a Jedi. A cropped jacket and shorts that barely reached her mid-thigh revealed far more skin than he thought appropriate for someone wielding a lightsaber. And yet, there it was, hanging from her hip—a finely crafted hilt that looked surprisingly well-worn, as if it had seen real battle.

Before Jaune could ponder this contradiction, another voice called out, higher-pitched and urgent.

"Yaaaang! Waaaait!"

Turning toward the commotion, Jaune saw a smaller girl darting through the crowd. Her dark hair framed a youthful face, her wide silver eyes filled with a mix of determination and panic. She wore a red-and-black outfit that swayed with her hurried movements, the cloak trailing behind her like a shadow.

She didn't see the obstacle in her path until it was too late.

The smaller girl collided with another figure—a girl with white hair and a crisp, pristine uniform that practically screamed high society. The impact sent the white-haired girl sprawling onto the cobblestone path.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the red-cloaked girl exclaimed, rushing to help the other to her feet.

The white-haired girl, brushing off invisible specks of dust from her immaculate outfit, turned sharply. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she began berating the younger girl.

"Do you have any idea who I am? You can't just go barreling into people like that! This is supposed to be a place of discipline and—"

Jaune frowned at the exchange. A Jedi should have better control over their emotions. Yet, before he could intervene, a third girl stepped into the fray.

This one had black hair, tied back with a simple bow. Something prickled in the back of his mind at the sight of her, and the flash of amber eyes was more than enough to catch him off guard. She said something to the white haired girl, low enough that Jaune couldn't hear. Whatever she said however, seemingly worked. The white-haired girl turned and stomped off with an indignant huff.

The dark-haired girl didn't stay either, slipping away without a word, leaving the red-cloaked initiate standing awkwardly in the middle of the path. Jaune turned his attention away from the raven haired girl shaking his head. The red girl's anxiety was like a ripple in the Force, and Jaune could feel it radiating off her in waves.

As if to punctuate her misery, the girl turned and tripped over her own feet, falling into the grass.

Jaune stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Are you alright?"

The girl looked up at him, startled, her silver eyes wide. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just... uh, you know. Enjoying the… Ground?"

Jaune extended a hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. Her grip was surprisingly firm despite her apparent nerves.

He smiled gently. "I'm Jaune Arc."

The brightest smile he'd ever seen lit up her face, though she quickly tried to hide it behind her bangs.

"I'm Ruby. Ruby Rose."

The two wandered the gardens together, falling into an easy conversation. Ruby's youthful enthusiasm was infectious, and Jaune found himself relaxing in her company.

"I'm kind of new here," Ruby admitted, her hands fiddling with the edges of her cloak. "I mean, obviously, we're all new, but... I'm *really* new. Headmaster Ozpin let me start early."

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "Early?"

Ruby nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm only fifteen. Most people don't get to start until they're at least sixteen, right? But I've been training really hard, and—oh!" She practically lit up, reaching for the hilt at her side. "This is my lightsaber! Her name is Crescent Rose!"

Ruby held out the weapon like a prized treasure. The hilt was an intricate combination of painted red alloy and black inner casing, its sleek design catching the light.

"You named it?" Jaune asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Ruby pouted, her silver eyes glistening in mock offense. "Of course I did! What's that supposed to mean? Every Jedi names their weapon."

Jaune raised his hands in defense, laughing. "Alright, alright. Sorry."

"You mean to tell me you didn't name your lightsaber?" Ruby's indignation only grew, her voice rising slightly. "That's... that's abuse!"

Jaune chuckled, unhooking his lightsaber from his belt. "Well, I suppose you're right. I'm sorry I haven't named it."

"Her," Ruby corrected, still frowning adorably.

"Her," Jaune repeated, shaking his head with amusement. He handed the hilt to Ruby, who took it with reverence.

"You've taken good care of her," Ruby said softly, running her fingers over the smooth metal. "The craftsmanship is awesome!"

Jaune's smile faltered. "She wasn't mine originally... She came from..."

Ruby's expression shifted, her usual cheer giving way to quiet understanding. She handed the lightsaber back to him, her movements careful.

"It's a lovely weapon," she said simply.

"Thanks," Jaune murmured.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Then, Ruby's eyes widened in sudden panic.

"The headmaster's speech! We're gonna be late!"

Jaune gawked at her. "What?!"

For a solid two seconds, they stared at each other in mutual horror. Then—

"Run!" Ruby shouted, grabbing Jaune's wrist.

What followed was nothing short of chaos as the two dashed across the campus, weaving through crowds and narrowly avoiding collisions. Ruby's cloak billowed behind her like a flag, and Jaune struggled to keep up, half-laughing and half-panicking.

By the time they reached the auditorium, both were out of breath, their faces flushed from exertion. They slipped into the back row just as Headmaster Ozpin began his speech, earning a few amused glances from their peers.

Ruby leaned over, whispering with a sheepish grin. "Made it!"

"Yeah," Jaune muttered, shaking his head within a poorly concealed smirk. "Barely."

Thanks so much for reading guys! Jaune isn't quite ready to break down yet, he needs time to realize that he's allowed to.

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