Prologue: Once upon a time...
"Text" = Regular Speech
"Text"= Ozpin talking within Jaune's mind.
"Text"= Past/Dreaming
[Text]= Call
(Text) =Texting
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He envisioned himself as a valiant hero, determined to liberate a damsel in distress from the confines of a looming tower. As he turned the key in the door to her chamber, his heart raced with anticipation. There she was, rising from her seat with a sudden start, her eyes bright with a mixture of surprise and hope as they locked onto his. The sight of her took his breath away, her beauty a revelation that momentarily stilled his movements.
Without hesitation, they fled the tower together, their steps echoing urgently in the empty corridors until they burst into the open air. With relief flooding through him, he turned to her, a gentle smile gracing his features. "Are you unharmed?" he inquired, concern evident in his voice.
She nodded, a grateful smile curving her lips. "Yes, I am quite well," she assured him.
His own relief mirrored hers as he nodded in response. "I am truly glad to hear that," he replied, his gaze softening with warmth. "Might I inquire as to your name?"
Meeting his gaze with a tender smile, she introduced herself. "My name is Salem," she revealed, a hint of shyness coloring her tone. "Salem of the house Briar."
His smile widened at the sound of her name, genuine admiration shining in his eyes. "Salem," he repeated softly, the name rolling off his tongue with reverence. "A truly exquisite name,"
A flush of pink graced Salem's cheeks at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Thank you, kind sir..." she began, trailing off as she awaited his own introduction.
Suddenly realizing his lapse in manners, he chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "Ah, forgive my oversight! How remiss of me," he exclaimed. "My name is..."
"Jaune!" The urgent call pierced the veil of Jaune's dreams, snapping him back to consciousness. With a start, he bolted upright, finding himself once again in the familiar comfort of his own room, nestled safely in his bed.
"Jaune, wake up! You're going to be late for school!" His mother's tone, tinged with exasperation, urged him into action. "You only have a month left! The leas you do is not be late!"
Responding to her summons, Jaune sprang out of bed, his movements swift and practiced. He reached for the clothes he had laid out the night before, fingers instinctively finding the comforting familiarity of his Pumpkin Pete's hoodie. Snatching up his backpack, he dashed downstairs, his hurried pace nearly resulting in disaster as he stumbled on the steps, only just managing to regain his balance before catastrophe struck.
In the bustling kitchen below, Jaune's younger siblings were already gathered around the table, engrossed in their morning meal. Glancing at the clock, Jaune realized with a sinking feeling that time was slipping away.
Determined to make a swift exit, he turned to leave, but his mother's reproachful gaze halted him in his tracks. "Jaune, you at least need to eat!" Her admonition was firm, her concern evident in her tone.
With a sense of urgency gnawing at him, Jaune made a desperate bid for freedom. "I'll eat at school! I'm going to be late!" His protest echoed through the hallway as he made a beeline for the front door, his hand already grasping the handle.
However, a sudden pause halted his escape as his gaze fell upon a framed photograph adorning the wall. In that frozen moment, Jaune's resolve softened, a wistful smile tugging at his lips as he addressed the image of his father. "Bye, Dad," he murmured softly, a mixture of fondness and longing coloring his words.
As Jaune dashed out of his house, relief washed over him as he spotted the unmistakable form of the Pharos bus approaching. With a wave, he hailed the vehicle, watching with gratitude as it slowed to a stop just in front of him. Eagerly, he clambered aboard, his eyes scanning the crowded interior for a vacant seat. Much to his relief, one was already awaiting him, a silent testament to the thoughtfulness of his fellow passengers.
"Yo! J-man, over here!" The familiar voice of his childhood companion, Reese Chloris, rang out above the din, drawing Jaune's attention to a spot where she had saved him a seat. Grateful for her gesture, Jaune offered her a warm smile as he settled into the space beside her.
"Morning," he greeted, his voice tinged with genuine affection.
"Morning to you too," Reese replied, returning his smile. "Did you manage to wake up on time this morning?"
Jaune chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Yeah, thankfully, my mom gave me a good shake," he admitted, a hint of gratitude lacing his words.
Reese's laughter bubbled forth at his response, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Can you imagine the look on Ms. Undyne's face if you were late for Combat Class again?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Jaune's expression darkened momentarily at the mention of their formidable combat instructor. "Oh gods, don't remind me," he groaned, a shiver of apprehension coursing through him. "I'd rather not have a rematch with her anytime soon. That woman terrifies me."
"Hey, she probably terrifies the entire student body!" Reese quipped, her laughter contagious. "But hey, chin up! We're almost through with this place, and then it's off to Beacon for both of us!" Her excitement was palpable, her eyes shining with anticipation.
Jaune's grin faltered slightly as a sudden stab of pain pierced his skull, causing him to wince and instinctively clutch at his head. His eyes squeezed shut against the throbbing ache, momentarily drowning out the world around him.
Concern etched onto her features, Reese observed his discomfort with a furrowed brow. "You okay?" she inquired, her voice laced with genuine worry.
With a deep breath, Jaune forced his eyes open, the pain subsiding as quickly as it had come. "Yeah," he replied, his tone strained. "Just a sudden headache, I think."
A playful smirk tugged at Reese's lips as she teased him gently. "Probably from staying up too late as usual," she quipped, her tone teasing yet affectionate.
Jaune returned her smirk with a knowing look of his own. "Says the one who was probably glued to her console all night playing Dark Heart 3," he retorted, a hint of amusement coloring his words.
Reese's laughter bubbled forth at his accusation, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Hey, practice makes perfect! And besides, you're the one invading my game and wrecking me half the time!" she countered, her tone light-hearted.
Jaune couldn't resist a smug grin at her playful jab. "Sounds like a skill issue on your part," he teased, his gaze dancing with amusement.
In response, Reese playfully flipped him the bird, the gesture accompanied by a playful glare that only served to deepen Jaune's amusement.
"Hello?"
Their banter was interrupted by a voice calling out, pulling Jaune's attention away from their exchange. Frowning slightly, he glanced around, searching for the source of the unexpected interruption. However, his gaze found nothing but the usual scene of passengers lost in their worlds, leaving him puzzled.
Reese raised a skeptical eyebrow, her curiosity piqued by Jaune's reaction. "You good?" she inquired, concern evident in her voice as she observed him closely.
Jaune turned back to Reese, his brow furrowing with perplexity. "You didn't hear someone say 'Hello'?" he questioned, his curiosity piqued by the inexplicable voice that had seemingly called out to him.
Reese shook her head, her expression a mix of bemusement and skepticism. "Nah," she replied with a casual shrug, "Might've just been the noise of the bus. You know how this thing rattles and shakes; sounds tend to bounce around in here."
Though her explanation seemed plausible enough, Jaune couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was more to it. Nevertheless, he chose to let the matter rest, pushing the odd encounter to the back of his mind as he engaged in conversation with Reese for the remainder of the journey.
After what felt like an eternity of rumbling along the city streets, the bus finally rolled to a stop in front of Pharos Academy, its imposing facade looming before them. With a sense of anticipation, Jaune and his fellow students disembarked, streaming through the main gates of the renowned Combat School.
As Jaune surveyed the familiar surroundings with a fond smile, a surge of pride swelled within him. Pharos Academy had been his home for years, a place where he honed his skills and forged lifelong friendships. While it may not hold the prestigious title of the top Combat school in the kingdom—reserved for Signal Academy, where legends like Ruby Rose had once trained—it was still a bastion of excellence in its own right.
The mention of Ruby Rose, the beacon of hope for aspiring Huntsmen and an emblem of courage, stirred a sense of admiration within Jaune. To him and countless others, she represented the epitome of what it meant to be a Huntsman—brave, skilled, and unwavering in the face of adversity.
There was a reason she was dubbed by many aspiring students as "Humanity's Hope".
As Jaune and Reese made their way toward the school gates, excitement tinged with a hint of nervousness coursing through them, Jaune was suddenly seized by a searing pain that lanced through his head with an intensity unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
A pained grimace twisted Jaune's features, causing him to come to an abrupt halt in his stride. Sensing his distress, Reese hurried over to his side, her expression fraught with concern.
"Are you okay?" she inquired, her voice tinged with worry.
Jaune winced, his discomfort evident as he struggled to articulate his response. "No, the head pain's back, and it's worse this time," he admitted, his voice strained with discomfort.
Reese's brows furrowed with concern, her worry deepening at his admission. "Do you need to see the nurse?" she asked, her tone laden with genuine concern.
Before Jaune could even respond, a disembodied voice intruded upon their conversation, sending a shiver down Jaune's spine. "Really sorry about this, young man, but I'm gonna have to do this so we have a chance to talk," the voice intoned, its tone unsettlingly calm.
Confusion clouded Jaune's mind as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind the cryptic message. But before he could make sense of it, the pain surged once again, sending him reeling. Acting on instinct, Jaune darted for the nearest sanctuary, the bathroom, and hastily shut himself inside, locking the door behind him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, Jaune braced himself as waves of agony washed over him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he fought to endure the onslaught. Gradually, the intensity of the pain began to ebb, leaving him trembling in its wake.
"What... was that?" Jaune muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief as he struggled to comprehend the surreal turn of events.
Once again, the disembodied voice echoed through the confines of the bathroom, its presence both eerie and enigmatic. "Again, sorry about that, but I really needed to talk to you," it murmured, its words sending a chill down Jaune's spine as he braced himself for whatever revelations lay ahead.
As he steadied his breath, Jaune gazed at his reflection in the mirror, seeking answers amidst the confusion that clouded his mind. Yet, what greeted him was not his own visage, but that of a stranger—a man whose features he did not recognize.
The man had a medium-dark skin tone with messy brown hair and brown eyes, He wore a blue-green tunic with a tan undershirt, and Jaune could just barely see his black trousers, but couldn't see his shoes, yet... he somehow knew he had a pair of brown boots, one thing that also caught the young blondes eye was that his tunic was outlined with golden markings, it looked Mistralian.
Jaune recoiled in shock, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and bewilderment as he grappled with the surreal sight before him.
The man in the mirror waved his arms frantically, his voice pleading as he sought to calm Jaune's escalating panic."Don't freak out! It's alright! Everything is fine!" he exclaimed, his words echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.
"Who are you!?" Jaune demanded, his voice trembling with uncertainty as he pointed an accusatory finger at the apparition.
Taking a steadying breath, the man in the mirror fixed Jaune with a steady gaze, his expression earnest as he prepared to divulge the truth."Alright, listen to me carefully," he began, his voice infused with a gentle authority."I'm going to explain everything, but please, try to keep an open mind,"
Jaune couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle, his laughter tinged with disbelief. "Right, because having a conversation with a reflection is completely normal!" he retorted, his words laced with incredulity. "I've got some voice in my head!"
The man offered a sympathetic smile, understanding Jaune's skepticism all too well."Okay, firstly, it's a pleasure to meet you," he introduced himself, his tone warm and reassuring."My name is Ozma,"
Jaune nodded rapidly, his mind racing with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "Uh, nice to meet you too...?" he replied tentatively, though a strange sensation tugged at his memory, hinting at a connection to the name that he couldn't quite grasp.
"Now then, I know who you are, Jaune, but if you'd like, I'd love to know more about you," Ozma began, his voice tinged with curiosity as he extended an invitation for Jaune to share his story. Yet, before he could delve further into their conversation, a sudden realization dawned upon him, derailing his train of thought."OH! Uh... actually, I believe I should start explaining what is going on," Ozma interjected.
Jaune's eyes widened in disbelief, a surge of frustration coursing through him at the apparent understatement. "YOU THINK!?" he exclaimed.
The sheer absurdity of the situation, combined with his own escalating confusion, prompted Jaune to voice his exasperation with an intensity that mirrored the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.
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In a cozy Vale coffee shop, bathed in the gentle glow of afternoon sunlight, Arthur Watts sat with an air of serene confidence, cradling a steaming cup of tea in his hands. As the door swung open to welcome his expected visitors, he spared them a cursory glance before indulging in another sip of his brew, the calm demeanor of a man accustomed to orchestrating cloak-and-dagger meetings.
Entering the scene with an air of calculated nonchalance were none other than Roman Torchwick and his silent partner-in-crime, Neo.
The duo settled into their seats opposite the disgraced scientist, their presence adding a hint of intrigue to the tranquil ambiance of the café.
Roman eased into his seat with a smirk, his visible eye sparkling with mischief as he addressed Watts. "Well, well, if it isn't Dr. Arthur Watts," he quipped, his tone laced with a hint of admiration. "You're looking surprisingly lively for someone who's supposedly met his demise,"
Watts met Roman's gaze with a subtle nod of acknowledgment, his demeanor unwavering in the face of the criminal's taunts. "Indeed, you've appeared to have done your homework," he conceded, setting down his cup with deliberate precision. "But let's not dwell on rumors of my demise, Mr. Torchwick, I've summoned you here with a proposition that I believe will pique your interest,"
Roman's grin widened in anticipation. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued by Watts' enigmatic demeanor.
With a calculated smile, Watts leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with the promise of untold possibilities. "What if I were to offer you a world devoid of the meddling interference of Huntsmen and Huntresses?" he proposed, his words laden with the allure of forbidden fruit. "Imagine a realm where you could conduct your operations without the hindrance of those weapon-wielding do-gooders, free to pilfer to your heart's content without fear of retribution,"
Roman's nod was one of reluctat admiration, "I'll admit, that sounds like one hell of a deal," he conceded, his tone betraying a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "But forgive me if I find it hard to believe, Beacon Academy boasts some heavy hitters, legends like Summer Rose, her daughter, Glynda Goodwitch, and even that Briar lady! How do you expect us to contend with them?"
Watts's smile widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Ah, Mr. Torchwick, you underestimate the power of our strategy," he remarked, his voice laced with confident assurance. "Believe me when I say, the only thorn in our side is Summer Rose, the rest? They're inconsequential in the grand scheme of things."
Roman's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Just her?" Roman asked. "Goodwitch wields one of the most powerful Semblances out there, and her daughter, she's the one who took down that infamous terrorist, didn't she?" he countered, his skepticism palpable.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Watts scoffed, his confidence unshaken. "What Goodwitch and Summer's spawn possess pales in comparison to what we have in store," he asserted, his tone tinged with a hint of superiority.
Neo's gaze flickered with curiosity as she exchanged a glance with Roman, silently questioning the validity of Watts's claims.
Roman returned her look with a wry smile before refocusing his attention on Watts, leaning in with renewed interest. "And what, pray tell, do you have in store that could possibly tip the scales in our favor?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of anticipation.
With deliberate theatricality, Watts lifted his tea cup to his lips, savoring the moment before delivering his cryptic reply. "Tell me, Mr. Torchwick," he began, his gaze unwavering, "Have you heard the story of The Lich King?"
Roman's chuckle echoed in the shop, a sound laced with both amusement and a hint of nostalgia. "Who hasn't, right?" he remarked, his tone tinged with wry humor. "Every kid's heard that tale when their parents wanted to scare the living shit out of them,"
Watts inclined his head in agreement, his expression grave. "Indeed, the legend of The Lich King is one that sends shivers down the spine," he acknowledged, his voice carrying a weight of solemnity. "As the tale goes, a man consumed by the pursuit of immortality ventures into a realm beyond our own, only to return with an otherworldly power that grants him eternal life, albeit at a terrible cost."
Roman waved a hand dismissively, his impatience evident. "Yeah, yeah, we all know how it ends! Defeated by some wizard and a witch," he interjected, his tone tinged with boredom. "What's your point?"
Watts's smile held a hint of mystery as he leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "What if I were to tell you that the tale isn't just a myth, but a chilling reality?" he proposed, his words hanging heavy in the air.
Roman's skepticism was palpable as he arched an eyebrow. "Really now? And do you have any proof to back up that bold claim?" he demanded, his annoyance simmering beneath the surface.
With a knowing smile, Watts extended his hand towards Roman, a silent invitation to delve deeper into the enigma. "As a matter of fact, I do," he replied cryptically. "Allow me to show you,"
Roman hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on Watts's outstretched hand, before finally relenting and accepting the offer. In an instant, a vivid green glow enveloped their clasped hands, and Roman's eyes widened in shock as they turned black and a torrent of images flooded the master thief's mind, revealing truths more terrifying than any bedtime story could ever convey...