Chapter 1: A Night Out
Reviews:
volcasiron30: Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter, and yeah, I always wondered what of Ozpin/Ozma was reincarnated into a Character that was already introduced instead of Oscar
Trooper-E: Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
"Text" = Regular Speech
"Text"= Ozpin talking within Jaune's mind.
"Text"= Past/Dreaming
[Text]= Call
(Text) =Texting
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In his small, dimly lit room, Jaune sat cross-legged on the floor, his face tense in concentration. He was trying to meditate, or at least what he thought was meditation. His right hand lay open on top of his left, palms facing upward as if waiting to catch something unseen. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind and reach for something he couldn't quite name. He'd been at this for days, hoping that with a little patience, he'd finally make progress.
Suddenly, a faint, flickering green light sparked to life in his palms, like a tiny flame on the verge of growing. But just as quickly, it sputtered out with a soft poof, vanishing as if it had never existed.
Jaune groaned in frustration, the growl escaping his throat before he could hold it back. "Oh, come on..." he muttered, clenching his hands briefly before letting them fall open again in resignation.
In the silence of his mind, a familiar voice chuckled lightly, echoing with a tone of patient amusement. "Don't let it discourage you, Jaune," said Ozma, his voice calm and reassuring. "Everyone struggles with tapping into their Mana for the first few tries, even I did once,"
"Yeah, but you also keep saying how it's supposed to be... natural," Jaune replied, sitting back with a sigh. "I mean, I get that it's magic, but every time I try, I feel like I'm just doing something wrong, you said Mana has different types, but it's still confusing."
Ozma let out a thoughtful hum. "Ah, that's fair, I probably should've explained more from the start," His tone softened, tinged with apology. "Let me try again... See, since humans are born from the light and darkness of both Brothers, we're unique—we're able to channel Mana, which is essentially magical energy, and, like you noticed, Mana itself has two distinct aspects: Positive and Negative Mana,"
Jaune tilted his head, curiosity overcoming his frustration. "Alright, and what's the difference between the two? Like, what do they actually do?"
Ozma continued, "Positive Mana is the energy of creation, while Negative Mana is the energy of destruction, most spells are simple—they're powered purely by one type, but for more complex spells, like fire or lightning, both types are often required," He explained. "Take fire, for instance: to create it, you use Positive Mana; but if you want that fire to burn or harm, you have to blend Negative Mana into it,"
Jaune blinked, clearly trying to process it. "Wait... so, just making a flame doesn't mean it's dangerous?"
"Exactly," Ozma said, nodding inside Jaune's head. The ancient wizard then searched for a clearer way to explain. "Think of it this way: if you create a small flame in your hand using only Positive Mana, it'll just be a light, it won't burn anything because your intent was just to create it, not to let it destroy, but... If you add Negative Mana to that flame, it gains destructive power—it can burn, sear, or even explode, the Negative Mana fuels the fire's potential to destroy,"
Jaune rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the wheels turning in his head. "So... every spell has a kind of 'intention' that shapes it? And that's what makes it harmful or harmless?"
"Precisely," Ozma replied, impressed with Jaune's understanding. "Positive and Negative Mana are like two sides of a coin, and the balance between them changes based on your intention! If you wanted a gentle breeze, Positive Mana alone would suffice, but to summon a storm or lightning strike, you'd have to blend both types! Without that destructive element, the energy doesn't behave in a way that could hurt anything,"
Jaune gave a slow nod, his brow furrowed as he processed the information. "Alright... I think I'm really starting to get it now," he said, glancing at his hands with a new appreciation for the power he was learning to control.
Ozma gave a solemn nod. "Good, but Jaune, there's something I need to warn you about... Some magic is not just difficult to master—it's dangerous and forbidden,"
Jaune raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like what?" he asked.
Ozma's gaze grew darker, and his voice lowered. "Grimm Magic and Necromancy, to start, these are forms of magic that no one should attempt to wield, especially Necromancy—it's far darker and more dangerous than even Grimm Magic, its consequences are..." Ozma hesitated, his tone heavy, "Corruptive, It's a magic that twists both the mind and soul,"
"Necromancy... that's like bringing back the dead, right?" Jaune asked, feeling a chill despite himself.
Ozma hummed, his tone grave. "Yes, but it's much more than that, Necromancy doesn't truly restore life; instead, it seizes hold of the soul, corrupting it and using it as a puppet to obey the caster's will, the essence of Necromancy pollutes the spirit, bending it beyond recognition—far more malicious than even the darkness in Grimm..."
Jaune noticed an intensity in Ozma's voice that he hadn't heard before. There was a weight there, a tension that felt uncomfortably personal. He couldn't help but wonder. "Oz... have you ever... used Necromancy yourself?"
Ozma's eyes flickered with a shadow of old memories. He shook his head firmly. "No, I've never practiced Necromancy myself, but I've known those who have," A hint of sorrow laced his words, as if recalling something painful.
Jaune swallowed, uneasy, but needed to know more. "You sound like you've... seen it firsthand,"
Ozma's shoulders slumped slightly, his gaze distant, voice heavy with memories. "I have," he admitted, his tone filled with a weight Jaune hadn't heard before. "There was a man I once faced, a master of Necromancy, he was ruthless, devoid of empathy... He used the bodies of the innocent to build his undead army, twisting the souls of those he captured, forcing them to turn against their own loved ones,"
Ozma paused, a chill passing through his words.
"This man was the strongest, most merciless enemy I have ever faced, even with Salem by my side, it took everything we had to defeat him, and... Even then, our victory came at a great cost..."
Jaune's eyes narrowed, imagining the battle Ozma described. He could almost picture the horror of that fight—the sorrow and the sacrifice. But amid the dread, one name stood out, tugging at his memory. Salem. He'd heard it before, seen a vision of her in a vivid dream only a month ago. But it wasn't really a dream, he realized now; it had been one of Ozma's memories, cast into his mind like a shadow of the past. Jaune opened his mouth to ask, hoping to understand who Salem truly was and what she meant to Ozma, but before he could speak—
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, a rapid rhythm that broke the silence. Jaune turned to the door, raising a brow in confusion. Whoever it was, they were clearly in a hurry.
Before he could get up, the door burst open, and Reese stood there, beaming, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. "Jaune! They're here!" she cried out, her voice filled with barely contained joy.
In her hand, she held up two green envelopes, each marked with a familiar symbol—one with her emblem and one with his.
Jaune's eyes widened, taking in the sight of the envelopes. It took him only a second to realize what they were, and a massive grin spread across his face as he felt a thrill of excitement bubbling inside him.
Jaune shot to his feet, his eyes wide with excitement. "Are those—are those the Beacon letters!?" he asked, barely able to keep his voice steady.
Reese grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "You bet they are!" She practically skipped over to him, holding out the letter marked with his symbol.
Jaune took it carefully, as if the envelope might vanish if he wasn't careful. They both exchanged a glance, hearts pounding, and then, without another word, tore open their envelopes. Each unfolded their letter slowly, hands shaking slightly as they scanned the words. Jaune felt a mix of hope and anxiety twisting in his stomach, silently begging that he'd see what he'd dreamed of for so long.
As his eyes found the words he'd been waiting for, a huge wave of relief and excitement washed over him. He let out a shout of joy, unable to contain himself. "Reese! We made it!"
Reese gave an excited squeal and practically tackled him in a hug. "I know! We're really going to Beacon!" she cheered, the two of them sharing a laugh filled with unrestrained happiness.
Jaune held up his letter, rereading the acceptance lines, still almost in disbelief. "I can't believe it. We actually did it... We're one step closer to becoming Huntsmen."
Reese nodded, her own eyes gleaming with excitement and determination. "Yeah, Jaune! We're gonna make it—together! We've trained hard for this, and now it's finally happening!"
He grinned back at her, feeling the weight of the journey they were about to embark on. "Together," he repeated, the promise holding a new depth in his voice.
"Congratulations, Jaune!" Ozma's voice sounded warmly in his mind, carrying a tone of pride.
'Thanks, Oz! You have no idea how much this means to me!' Jaune thought, a swell of gratitude in his chest.
Ozma chuckled, the sound gentle and amused. "Well, then you'll have to tell me all about it sometime, I'd very much like to hear what you're feeling,"
'Count on it,' Jaune replied inwardly, smiling.
Reese nudged him playfully, her grin as wide as ever. "Hey, we have to celebrate this!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. "I mean, not only are we done with our year at Pharos, but now we're going to Beacon! We can't just let tonight go by like it's nothing!"
Jaune nodded, his excitement growing even more. "Absolutely! But what should we do?"
Reese thought for a moment, eyes sparkling with possibilities. "Hmm... maybe we could go see a movie? Or hit up that new arcade in town? Something fun, just the two of us. You know, before things get serious at Beacon."
Jaune's smile grew as he imagined the night ahead. "That sounds perfect," he agreed. "A movie and the arcade? Let's make it a whole night out."
Reese pumped her fist in excitement. "Yes! We're going to have the best night ever!" She glanced at him, her smile softer. "And it'll be awesome to have one last night as just us, you know? Before the craziness of initiation starts."
Jaune felt a surge of gratitude for Reese's friendship. "I couldn't agree more! Let's make tonight unforgettable!"
As they headed out, a thrill bubbled up inside him. Tonight, he'd celebrate the future he'd always dreamed of—one he was finally stepping into.
Before they could celebrate alone, Jaune and Reese made sure to share the news of their acceptance into Beacon's Initiation process with their families, who were thrilled. Jaune's mother and sisters swept the two into an enthusiastic group hug, practically smothering them with joy and laughter. Reese, nearly swallowed up by the cascade of blonde hair, grinned as Jaune's mother held her tightly, relieved that someone would be watching her son's back. Reese gave a lighthearted vow to keep him out of trouble.
"No one else is going to keep him in line like I will!" Reese told the Arc Matriarch with a smile
Jaune groaned as he smiled but rolled his eyes.
Later, when they visited Reese's family to share the news, her mother's reaction was no less warm. She beamed with pride, delighted that her daughter's dreams were unfolding just as she'd always hoped.
With a teasing smile, Reese's mother, Bernice Chloris, turned to Jaune, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Jaune, you know you'll be responsible for keeping her safe and making sure she's happy, right?" She asked. "You'd better take good care of her—and maybe think about making it official sometime soon~!"
Her words sent Jaune and Reese into embarrassed laughter, their faces a deep shade of red.
That evening, the two families gathered for a lively dinner, celebrating with dishes that left everyone thoroughly stuffed and in high spirits. After sharing stories, laughter, and encouragement, Jaune and Reese slipped away into the night.
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The evening had been a perfect send-off for Jaune and Reese, two childhood friends on the cusp of becoming Beacon Academy students. They'd spent hours immersed in the glow of the big screen, watching a new action-packed blockbuster that left them buzzing with excitement. Afterward, they indulged in mountains of greasy burgers, overflowing nachos, and enough candy to make their heads spin. By the time they left the theater and its accompanying food court, their stomachs hurt from both laughter and overeating.
Now, with the cool night air settling in, they strolled side by side under the dim glow of streetlights. The sound of their footsteps was accompanied by easy conversation, punctuated with the occasional bout of laughter.
"So," Reese began, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, her expression bright with curiosity. "What do you think our team will be like?" She glanced up at Jaune, her green eyes catching the light as she grinned.
Jaune smirked and raised a brow. "Our team?" he asked, his voice teasing. "Who says we're even gonna end up on the same team?"
Reese rolled her eyes, a playful chuckle escaping her lips. "Oh, come on! Like you'd want anyone else watching your back!" She bumped his shoulder lightly.
He shrugged, his smirk softening into a grin. "Yeah, I guess you're right... It's not like anyone else could put up with me,"
"Of course, I'm right!" she declared, her fist landing lightly on his upper arm in a mock punch.
Jaune laughed, rubbing the spot dramatically. "Ow, geez, Reese! What if I need this arm for combat practice tomorrow?"
"Then you'd better toughen up before Beacon makes you cry," she shot back with a mischievous smile, sticking out her tongue.
They continued their walk, the banter between them filling the air with warmth, but after a moment, Reese grew quiet. She tucked her hands into her jacket pockets and shifted her gaze to the sidewalk ahead. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer this time. "Hey, uh… Jaune?"
Jaune noticed the change in her tone immediately and turned to glance at her, his brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah? What's up?"
Reese hesitated, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks faintly tinged with pink. "Do you… ever think about, you know… that night?"
Her question hung between them, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced by something heavier. Jaune blinked, his teasing demeanor fading as he searched her face for context. "That night?" he repeated, his voice steady but cautious. "You mean…?"
Reese nodded, her blush deepening. "Yeah… the night we made that promise,"
Jaune's eyes widened slightly in recognition. That night. The night they swore they'd always look out for each other no matter what. Back then, it had felt like a simple, heartfelt pact between two kids dreaming big. But now, with Beacon so close and the reality of the Huntsmen's life on the horizon, it felt like something more.
He smiled softly, a mix of nostalgia and determination in his expression. "Of course, I think about it," he said quietly. "I meant every word, and I'm guessing you did too?"
Reese met his gaze and nodded, a small smile curving her lips. "Yeah… I did, and I still do,"
For a moment, neither spoke, the silence between them filled with the unspoken weight of their bond. Then, Reese broke it with a teasing grin. "But don't get all sappy on me now, Jdawg, save it for when we actually make it through initiation!"
Jaune laughed, shaking his head. "You're impossible,"
"And you're stuck with me," she quipped, bumping his shoulder again as they walked on, the promise they shared lingering in the crisp night air.
The peaceful night shattered—literally—as a loud crash echoed through the street. Glass sprayed everywhere as a body hurtled through a nearby shop window, slamming onto the pavement in front of Jaune and Reese with a sickening thud.
They stopped dead in their tracks, staring at the crumpled figure. It was a security guard, his uniform torn, his face bloodied and bruised, groaning in pain as he struggled to move.
"What the hell!?" Reese cried, her voice a mix of shock and alarm as she instinctively stepped closer to Jaune.
Jaune's hand went to the hilt of his sword, his stomach twisting with a bad feeling. Before either of them could act, the sound of a door creaking open drew their attention.
Two figures strolled out of the broken store as if they owned the place. Roman Torchwick, infamous for his sharp-dressed appearance and smug grin, casually swung a cane over his shoulder, the other hand clutching a bag stuffed with cash. Beside him, Neo followed in silence, balancing her parasol effortlessly while carrying her own haul.
The streetlamps illuminated their faces, and Jaune and Reese's eyes widened in recognition. These weren't just any criminals. Roman Torchwick and Neopolitan were two of the most wanted individuals in Vale City.
Roman was talking casually to Neo when she abruptly stopped and nudged him. Her mismatched eyes locked onto Jaune and Reese with an almost curious glint. Following her silent prompt, Roman turned to look at the two teens, his smirk fading into something colder as his gaze lingered.
For a moment, everything felt frozen. The air was heavy, and neither Jaune nor Reese dared to move.
Roman tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he muttered under his breath, "Witnesses, huh?"
Then his sharp gaze fell to Jaune's sword, strapped at his side. Roman's lips curled back into a grin, but this time, it carried an edge.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, taking a step closer. "What do we have here? A couple of wannabe Huntsmen, I'm guessing?"
Reese stiffened, her fists clenched at her sides. "Who you calling "wannabe"!?" she shot back, her voice laced with defiance despite the knot forming in her chest.
"Touchy, aren't we?" Roman mocked, tapping his cane against the pavement.
Jaune stepped forward, planting himself slightly in front of Reese. "Back off," he said, his voice steady, though his heart pounded in his chest.
Neo's lips twitched into a sly grin, and she twirled her parasol as if amused by Jaune's bravado.
Roman chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "Oh, and what happens if I don't?" he asked.
Before Jaune could retort, Roman acted. With a flick of his wrist, he swung his cane forward, the distinct click of a hidden mechanism echoing ominously in the night. The weapon's tip lit up with a fiery burst as Roman fired a shot directly at the two teens.
The explosion ripped through the street, scattering debris and filling the air with a thick plume of smoke. Jaune and Reese instinctively braced themselves, their arms coming up to shield their faces, expecting to be flung back—or worse.
But the impact never came.
As the smoke began to clear, Roman and Neo's smug expressions faltered. Their eyes widened in shock, and Roman's grin was replaced with a confused scowl. In front of Jaune and Reese, a shimmering, silver square-shaped barrier stood firm, glowing faintly in the aftermath of the attack. Not a single scratch or scorch mark marred the two teens behind it.
"What the—?" Roman muttered, taking a step back, his cane lowering slightly.
Neo's mismatched eyes narrowed as she tilted her head, her parasol shifting to a defensive position.
Before either criminal could process the sudden turn of events, a soft, melodic voice broke the tense silence.
"Oh my, what is going on here?"
All eyes snapped toward the source of the voice, a soft yet commanding presence cutting through the tension like a blade. Emerging from the shadows and into the pale glow of the streetlights was a woman whose mere presence seemed to demand attention.
Her complexion was fair and smooth, the faintest hint of warmth in her cheeks softening the sharpness of her otherworldly aura. Her hair, a striking gradient that faded seamlessly from black to deep crimson, framed her face and cascaded down her back like liquid fire. But it was her eyes that held everyone captive—glowing silver orbs that pulsed with an ethereal light, as if they could see straight through flesh and bone to the very soul.
She moved with a grace that was almost hypnotic, her attire both elegant and practical. She wore a one-piece red dress trimmed with delicate white frills that peeked out from under a layered black skirt. Her shoulders were bare, accentuated by detached black sleeves that ended in intricate red-and-black bracers, each finely crafted to suggest both beauty and lethality.
Draped over her back was a white cloak, less bulky than a traditional Huntress's mantle but no less striking. Its inner lining was crimson, a shade that matched her dress, and it was secured by a pair of black leather straps adorned with leaf-shaped pins at the shoulders. These straps crossed neatly above her chest before attaching to a series of thick black belts around her waist.
Covering her legs were sleek gray leggings, and on her feet were black high-heeled boots with red accents, their design both practical and stylish, hinting at her duality as both warrior and icon.
The moment Jaune's eyes landed on her, his breath hitched. He knew exactly who she was.
"Summer Rose," he murmured under his breath, the words barely audible but heavy with awe.
Reese, still tense beside him, glanced at him sharply. "Wait... That Summer Rose?" she whispered back, her voice equal parts disbelief and wonder.
There was no mistaking it. This was the Summer Rose, the deputy Headmistress of Beacon Academy, the legendary Huntress whose name was spoken with equal parts reverence and awe across Remnant. The woman who, despite her unassuming stature and warm demeanor, had been hailed as the most powerful Huntress in the world.
Roman Torchwick's usual smugness faltered for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "Well, this is unexpected," he muttered, forcing a grin back onto his face. "Didn't think the big leagues would bother with the likes of me tonight,"
Neo's stance shifted subtly, her grip tightening on her parasol. Even she, as fearless as she often seemed, couldn't mask the hint of apprehension flickering in her mismatched eyes.
Summer's glowing gaze swept over the scene—the shattered storefront, the injured guard, the two wide-eyed teens—and finally landed on Roman and Neo. Her expression remained calm, almost motherly, but there was a sharpness beneath her serene demeanor that made the air feel heavier.
"Roman Torchwick, And Neopolitan, I'd ask what brings you to this part of the city, but…" Her gaze shifted briefly to the bags of cash they carried. "...it's fairly obvious,"
Roman chuckled nervously, adjusting his hat. "Well, you know, a guy's gotta make a living, inflation, rising costs—things are tough for us entrepreneurs these days!"
Summer's eyes didn't waver. "Your entrepreneurial spirit seems to involve leaving a trail of destruction and broken lives," she said, her tone light but unyielding.
Jaune felt his heart pounding in his chest. This wasn't just an encounter with two of Vale's most wanted criminals anymore.
They were standing in the presence of a living legend.
Roman's grin hardened. "Look, lady, I don't want trouble, we'll just be on our way."
Summer tilted her head slightly, the glow in her eyes intensifying. "Oh, I'm sure you'd like that," she said. "But I'm afraid trouble has already found you,"
Her hand moved almost imperceptibly, and in an instant, the barrier protecting Jaune and Reese shimmered and dissolved, the energy flowing back to her like water being drawn into a well.
Roman's grin faltered completely now, replaced by a tense frown. Neo, always the silent partner, took a half-step back, her mismatched eyes darting between Summer and her partner.
Jaune tightened his grip on his sword, his awe giving way to determination. He glanced at Reese, who nodded subtly, her fists clenched.
Summer shifted her gaze to the teens, her expression softening for a moment. "Stay close," she said gently. "This is no place for fledgling Huntsmen to prove themselves."
Then, with a fluid movement that seemed almost too fast to follow, she turned her attention back to Roman and Neo. Her smile returned, but this time, it carried a razor-sharp edge.
"Now," she said, her voice as calm as ever but laced with unmistakable authority. "Shall we do this the easy way? Or the hard way?"
Roman swallowed hard, his earlier bravado cracking under the weight of Summer Rose's presence. He turned to Neo, who gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod.
That silent assurance seemed to steady him, and Roman's uneasy smirk returned as he faced Summer once more. "Unfortunately," he said, his voice oozing false confidence, "it'll be neither way. This is where we take our leave."
Before anyone could react, the sharp sound of shattering glass echoed around them. Jaune and Reese instinctively flinched, their heads whipping toward the source of the noise. But when they looked back, Roman and Neo were gone—vanished into thin air.
Jaune's eyes darted around the street, searching for any sign of the criminal duo, but they were nowhere to be seen. "Did they... just disappear?" he asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.
Summer's expression didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. Her silver gaze seemed to scan the area, glowing faintly as if seeking something unseen. She took a single step forward, her presence as calm and composed as ever, yet there was a distinct tension in the air, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
Inside Jaune's mind, a familiar voice resonated, steady but laced with intrigue.
"Jaune, that wasn't a mere Semblance," Ozma informed him. "There are traces of Magic lingering where they stood,"
Jaune stiffened, his breath catching. 'Magic?' His thoughts raced as he struggled to process the revelation. 'But how?'
Jaune's bewilderment deepened. His mind reeled with questions, but he barely had time to think before Summer's head snapped toward him and Reese.
Her glowing eyes zeroed in on Jaune, the intensity of her gaze making him feel as though she were looking straight through him. Without a word, she began moving closer, her heels clicking softly against the pavement.
Jaune froze under her scrutiny, his hand unconsciously brushing against the hilt of his sword. Reese, sensing his unease, took a cautious step back, her eyes darting between Jaune and Summer.
As Summer stopped in front of Jaune, her silver eyes seemed to buzz with rapid movement, almost like a machine scanning for data. The glow from her irises intensified, reflecting faint patterns across Jaune's face as if analyzing every fiber of his being.
"Uh... is something wrong?" Jaune asked hesitantly, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of her penetrating stare.
Summer didn't answer immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line as if she were piecing together a puzzle only she could see. Summer's glowing silver eyes began to dim, the ethereal light fading as her expression softened.
Yet, the curiosity etched into her face didn't waver. She studied Jaune intently for another moment, as if weighing her thoughts, before murmuring under her breath, "Interesting..."
Her voice carried a hint of intrigue, but whatever conclusions she was drawing, she kept them to herself. With a subtle shift in her stance, she broke eye contact, turning her attention back to the broader scene.
Stepping away from Jaune, she addressed both him and Reese with an air of calm authority. "I'm going to need you two to stay put until the authorities arrive," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "There are a few questions I'll need to ask you both once this is sorted out,"
Reese frowned, clearly uneasy. "Wait, questions? About what?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively. "We're not the ones who just robbed the place!"
Summer glanced over her shoulder, her gaze steady but not accusing. "I know you're not criminals," she reassured them. "But you were witnesses—and more than that, you've seen and felt things tonight that most civilians wouldn't recognize, that makes your perspective valuable,"
Jaune shifted uncomfortably. He knew exactly what she meant. The lingering magic Roman and Neo had left behind wasn't something a typical Huntress or Huntsman or anyone for that matter, would have been able to identify.
Yet somehow, both he and Summer had sensed it, though in vastly different ways.
"Look," Jaune started, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness, "If this is about what just happened with Roman and Neo, we don't know where they went, they just... disappeared,"
Summer turned fully to face them again, her arms crossing lightly over her chest. "Disappeared, yes," she said, her tone measured. "But you felt more than that, didn't you?" Her eyes flicked to Jaune, holding his gaze with unnerving precision.
Jaune's stomach churned. He couldn't shake the feeling that she knew far more than she was letting on. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," he replied cautiously.
Summer offered a casual shrug, her demeanor deceptively light. "Of course, you don't," she replied, her tone calm but resolute. "But I'll still need to ask you a few questions—standard procedure," Her gaze lingered on Jaune for a beat longer than necessary, and for a fleeting moment, there was something unreadable in her eyes, a mix of curiosity and knowing.
With that, she turned away, signaling that the conversation, at least for now, was over.
Jaune exhaled slowly, his mind racing despite her composed departure. His gut told him there was more to her questions than she was letting on. 'Does she know?' he wondered, his thoughts spiraling. 'Does she suspect something about me—or Ozma?'
Beside him, Reese crossed her arms, her face scrunched in utter bewilderment. "Okay," she muttered, half to herself. "What in the actual hell just happened? Why was she looking at you like that? And what's all this talk about 'feeling' something?" She turned to Jaune, her brow raised expectantly.
Jaune winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "I... don't really know," he admitted, which wasn't a lie. "I guess she just thinks we might've noticed something weird about Roman and Neo disappearing,"
Reese stared at him for a moment, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, but she let it slide—for now. "Weird doesn't even cover it," she grumbled. "First, we stumble into those two pulling a heist, then the Summer Rose shows up out of nowhere, blocks a freaking rocket with a glowing barrier, and now she's giving you the third degree like you've got some big secret!"
Jaune chuckled nervously, though the sound was hollow. "Yeah, well... welcome to Beacon life, I guess?"
Reese snorted. "If this is what it's like before classes even start, I'm not sure I wanna know what's next,"
Jaune forced a smile, but her words hit a little too close to home. Deep inside, he could feel Ozma's presence stirring, the ancient voice unusually quiet now as if mulling over the events.
"Jaune," Ozma finally spoke, his tone cautious, "There is a chance Summer Rose is attuned to things beyond what most Huntsmen can perceive, she may not know about me, but her instincts are sharp, so be vigilant,"
'Vigilant,' Jaune repeated silently, suppressing a sigh. That was easier said than done when one of the most powerful Huntresses in the world was scrutinizing him like he was a puzzle she intended to solve.
As the two teens waited on the sidewalk, the distant sound of sirens began to rise, signaling the approach of the authorities. Reese tapped her foot impatiently, while Jaune remained silent, his thoughts tangled between the night's chaotic events and the growing sense that this was just the beginning of something far bigger than either of them could imagine.
Whatever was coming, one thing was certain—it was going to make their first year at Beacon far more interesting than they'd ever expected.