Chapter 5

The air in the combat arena buzzed with energy, students lining the outer rim of the sparring circle as they prepared for another round of training duels. Professor Goodwitch stood at the center, her sharp gaze scanning the gathered students.

Jaune stood quietly at the edge of the group, blending into the background, just as he had intended. Ever since the semester had started, he had carefully measured his performance in training exercises—not too bad to be incompetent, but not good enough to stand out. He executed techniques well enough to pass but never showcased his true skill.

To the general student body, Jaune Arc was... average.

He wasn't failing. He wasn't excelling. He was just there.

Most of the students assumed he had barely scraped by during initiation, and those who had heard of his absurd survival through the Grimm-infested forest? Well, they had an easy answer for that.

"It's because of Pyrrha, obviously."

It was common knowledge that Pyrrha Nikos—the undefeated tournament champion, the Invincible Girl—was his partner. It only made sense that she had carried him.

Even among their own peers, that was the general consensus.

"Honestly, I don't know how Arc even got in," one student murmured to another, arms crossed as they watched the matches unfold.

"Pyrrha probably dragged him through the whole thing," another said dismissively. "No way he made it through on his own."

"Yeah, he's a lucky guy, I guess," a third chuckled. "Imagine having Pyrrha Nikos watching your back. Easy ticket through initiation if you ask me."

Even now, as the duels progressed, Jaune remained unremarkable in their eyes.

That was until Cardin Winchester smirked and stepped forward.

"Alright, next match—Cardin Winchester versus Jaune Arc," Professor Goodwitch announced, swiping across her Scroll to register the fight.

A few students chuckled quietly.

"Oh, this is gonna be quick."

Jaune exhaled slowly, stepping onto the platform. He could already see the smug confidence on Cardin's face.

The towering bully rolled his shoulders with exaggerated ease, his large frame dwarfing Jaune's leaner build. "Well, well, well. Look who finally gets a turn," he sneered. "You sure you can handle this, Arc?"

Jaune's expression remained unreadable. "I can manage."

Cardin's grin widened. "Right. Because Pyrrha's gonna swoop in and save you, right?"

A few students laughed at that, muttering in agreement.

"Honestly, it's kinda funny," Cardin continued, loud enough for the entire class to hear. "You've been coasting since day one. You barely stand out in training, you never spar anyone serious, and the only reason anyone knows your name is 'cause Pyrrha decided to take pity on you."

Jaune didn't respond.

"You think that fancy luck of yours is gonna help here?" Cardin taunted. "You think you can hide behind Pyrrha forever?"

At that moment, a sharp voice cut through the arena.

"Hey, shut up, meathead!"

Everyone turned to see Yang Xiao Long, arms crossed, a smirk on her lips but a glint of warning in her violet eyes.

"Yeah! You're talking like Jaune's some kind of amateur," Ruby chimed in, huffing loudly as she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Show him how it's done, fearless leader!"

"Kick his butt, Jaune!" Nora added, grinning ear to ear as she practically bounced in place.

"Make it quick," Weiss said, nodding in approval. "I don't want to waste any more time listening to this nonsense."

Pyrrha, standing at the edge of the platform, simply smiled. She had seen Jaune's true skill firsthand. This wouldn't be a fight—it would be a demonstration.

Cardin snorted, shaking his head. "Wow. You got a whole cheer squad for this. Hope you don't disappoint them, Arc."

Jaune exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he walked to the weapons rack.

His usual sword and shield weren't there. No matter.

Instead, he reached for a training staff, a simple yet well-crafted weapon meant for controlled sparring.

A few murmurs ran through the class.

"Wait—he's using a staff?"

"Does he even know how to use that?"

Even Cardin looked surprised for a moment before grinning wider. "Oh, this is gonna be fun," he chuckled, resting his massive training mace on his shoulder.

Jaune simply adjusted his grip on the staff, his fingers settling into position with instinctual ease.

Ozpin, watching from the observation deck, hid a small smile behind his cup of coffee.

"Interesting," the headmaster mused. "He's holding back—but not as much as before."

Glynda glanced at Ozpin, a brow raised. "You sound almost... pleased."

Ozpin took a slow sip of his coffee. "He's showing compassion, Glynda."

Glynda frowned slightly. "Compassion?"

Ozpin's gaze never left Jaune as he stepped into position.

"He could have used anything," the headmaster said quietly. "A sword, a spear—even his bare hands. But instead, he chose a weapon meant for control. Not killing. That tells me that despite everything, despite whatever he's been through... Jaune Arc is still a protector."

Glynda remained silent, watching as the fight began.

"Perhaps," she admitted.

Professor Goodwitch raised a hand.

"Begin."

Cardin charged instantly, his massive training mace swinging down in a heavy arc, aiming to end the fight in a single blow.

Jaune moved.

Not with panic. Not with hesitation. With precision.

He sidestepped at the last moment, the gust of wind from Cardin's swing brushing past his cheek as the mace slammed into the arena floor, sending small fragments of the reinforced tiles flying.

Before Cardin could recover, Jaune's staff struck out—

—a blur of motion.

A sharp, clean strike cracked against the back of Cardin's knee.

The entire class gasped.

Cardin stumbled, his massive frame buckling slightly.

Jaune didn't stop.

The staff spun through his fingers, his movements effortless, a mastery of flow and control that had no place belonging to someone who was supposedly 'average.'

With a single pivot, he twisted his body—the staff swung upward—

—striking Cardin's wrist.

The mace flew from his grip.

Before Cardin could even react, Jaune's staff swept beneath his legs—

CRACK.

Cardin Winchester, the class's resident brute, was flat on his back before he even understood what happened.

The arena was silent.

Then—

"OH MY GOD!"

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"DID HE JUST—?!"

The entire student body erupted into disbelief.

Ruby, watching from the sidelines, was clutching Yang's sleeve so tightly that the fabric crumpled. "Did you see that?! Did you see that?!" she squeaked.

"That was awesome!" Nora practically bounced in place, fists pumping the air.

Yang let out a low whistle, leaning forward slightly. "Well, well, well… I knew Jaune was hiding something, but I didn't think he'd pull out moves like that."

Blake, her golden eyes slightly wider than usual, tilted her head in thought. "That wasn't just skill. That was control. He didn't waste a single movement."

Weiss, who had initially been watching with mild curiosity, now had her arms crossed, nodding approvingly. "Good."

Pyrrha, as always, simply smiled—but this time, it was a knowing one.

In the arena, Jaune tapped the end of the staff against the ground and looked down at Cardin.

"Yield?" he asked, his voice calm.

Cardin, still staring up in shock, could barely process what had happened. The confidence that had once been plastered all over his face had vanished.

Finally, with a weak, stunned nod, he yielded.

Jaune turned to Goodwitch. "Match over."

She blinked, staring at him for a brief moment before giving a slow, almost impressed nod.

"Winner—Jaune Arc."

And with that, the illusion of Jaune Arc being 'average' crumbled.

Jaune stepped off the platform, his expression as neutral as ever, returning the training staff to the weapons rack without ceremony.

The student body was still whispering in disbelief.

"No way..."

"He was just holding back this whole time?"

"I thought Pyrrha carried him!"

"What even was that technique? I've never seen someone fight like that!"

Jaune ignored the murmurs as he approached his team—and found himself immediately ambushed.

"DUDE!" Yang clapped him on the back so hard his armor audibly clanked. "You're telling me you could do all that and you were just holding out on us?!"

"Yeah!" Ruby popped up right next to him, practically vibrating with excitement. "That was so cool! Why didn't you ever tell us you were good with a staff?! Or that you were that good at fighting in general?! I mean, I knew you were good, but come on! That was amazing!"

Jaune blinked slowly. "...I use what's necessary."

"Necessary?!" Nora grinned wildly. "Jaune, you just obliterated Cardin in front of the entire class with a stick! And you weren't even sweating!"

Ren, standing nearby, simply closed his eyes and nodded. "You were precise. No wasted movements. That wasn't a fight—it was a demonstration."

Blake, arms crossed, nodded as well. "You weren't just using technique. You were reading him. Predicting him. That kind of skill doesn't come from just training—it comes from experience."

Weiss, ever the composed one, simply gave Jaune an appraising nod. "Good. You represent both our teams. I'd expect no less."

Jaune tilted his head slightly at that but didn't comment.

Pyrrha, still smiling, finally spoke. "You know, Jaune, you could afford to show a little more of this side of yourself. It's not a weakness to let others see what you're capable of."

Jaune remained silent for a moment before exhaling softly.

"I prefer to blend in," he admitted.

"You call that blending in?!" Yang gestured wildly to the training arena, where students were still in shock. "Jaune, half the school just had their minds blown! You can't just 'blend in' after pulling off something like that!"

Jaune glanced back at the lingering stares, murmurs still rippling through the students. He sighed.

"Then I suppose I'll have to do better next time," he said simply.

That only made Yang laugh louder.

Ruby, still hyped up, fist-pumped the air. "Okay! New rule! Next time we train together, you have to show us how you did all that! No more holding back!"

Jaune stared at her for a moment, then gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod.

"Fine."

Ruby nearly exploded with excitement.

"YES!"

The moment settled into a more relaxed mood as the team's energy gradually calmed down. Even though the match had ended, one thing was certain.

Jaune Arc was not just some average Huntsman-in-training.

And Beacon Academy now knew it.

The cafeteria bustled with its usual lunchtime energy, but at one table, the excitement was a little more concentrated.

"Alright, everyone!" Nora declared, standing on her chair with uncontainable energy. "I present to you: The Battle of the Century!"

Across from her, Jaune quietly ate his food, entirely indifferent to the performance about to unfold.

Pyrrha chuckled, resting her chin on her palm. Ren, seated next to her, sighed deeply, already resigned to his fate.

Yang smirked. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Ruby bounced excitedly in her seat. "Jaune using something other than a spear?! I need to see this reenactment!"

Blake, ever composed, sipped her tea, though her golden eyes watched with growing curiosity.

Weiss gave a nod of approval. "While unnecessary, it is good to see our leader being recognized for his skill."

Jaune?

He didn't react.

Not even when Nora pointed dramatically at Ren.

"You! You shall be Cardin Winchester!"

Ren, mid-sip of his tea, paused. "...Do I have a choice?"

"Nope!"

Ren sighed, setting his cup down. "Of course not."

Nora snatched up a breadstick from her tray, gripping it in both hands.

"BEHOLD! I am Jaune Arc! Master of the spear! Wielder of the legendary—uh—training staff! Slayer of bullies!"

Jaune kept eating.

"And over here," she grandly gestured to Ren, "we have Cardin Winchester! The brute of arrogance! The self-proclaimed warrior of meh!"

Ren blinked. "...Should I be offended?"

"Yes!"

With that, Nora crouched down, gripping her breadstick-turned-spear with both hands.

"And then—BOOM! Cardin charges in!"

Ren, with zero enthusiasm, moved in slow motion, mimicking a sluggish charge.

"And what does our fearless leader do?" Nora twirled the breadstick, dodging Ren's 'attack' effortlessly. "He moves with deadly precision! A blur of skill!"

Jaune, completely unbothered, continued eating his meal.

"And then—CRACK!" Nora whipped her breadstick downward, tapping Ren lightly on the shoulder.

Ren exhaled sharply, collapsed into his seat, and let out a monotone:

"Oof."

Yang burst into laughter. "That was exactly how it went!"

"But wait!" Nora gasped, flipping onto the bench. "Cardin is not done yet! He roars!"

Ren, still seated, sighed before giving the least intimidating growl ever.

"Grr."

Nora, ignoring his lack of effort, continued. "Jaune Arc, the Relentless, strikes again! He spins, deflects, parries—WHOOSH! SLASH! BAM!"

She flipped dramatically, twirling the breadstick before tapping Ren's shoulder again.

Ren sighed once more and slid out of his chair, landing on the floor.

Silence.

Then—

Laughter.

Yang and Ruby were dying. Weiss shook her head, though her smirk betrayed amusement. Blake, covering her mouth, let out a quiet chuckle.

Jaune?

Still eating.

Nora, standing triumphantly, thrust the breadstick into the air.

"And thus!" she declared, "The great battle was won! Cardin, the loud, was silenced! The day, saved! And our fearless leader, undefeated!"

She collapsed onto the bench, dramatically fainting.

Yang clapped slowly. "A riveting performance."

Ruby wiped a tear from her eye. "Nora, that was perfect."

"Thank you, thank you," Nora said, bowing.

Jaune, finally done with his food, set his utensils down and looked at his team.

"...Was that necessary?"

"YES," everyone said in unison.

Jaune sighed.

"But seriously, fearless leader!" Nora leaned forward. "You never told us you were that good with a staff!"

Yang nodded. "Yeah! I mean, we already knew you were scary with a spear, but this?"

Ruby grinned. "You weren't just fighting—you were dancing! Like, like—a staff master!"

Weiss took a sip of her drink before nodding. "It's good to know our leader is well-rounded. It reflects well on both of our teams."

Jaune shrugged. "It's just another weapon."

Nora gasped. "'Just another weapon'?! You just humiliated a bully with a training staff!"

Yang grinned. "I dunno, Jaune, seems like you've been holding back."

Jaune exhaled. "I wasn't hiding anything. I just… don't see the need to stand out."

Blake, who had been quiet up until now, tilted her head slightly.

"...That's why people underestimate you, isn't it?"

Jaune paused.

Because she was right.

Everyone at Beacon thought he was average. They assumed Pyrrha carried him through initiation. That he had gotten through by luck and her guidance.

Even Cardin had believed that.

But his team?

They knew the truth.

Jaune finished his drink, setting it down. "Let them think what they want," he said simply.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "You really don't care?"

Jaune's glowing blue eyes flicked up, his voice even.

"If it means they don't expect what's coming when it matters…"

He pushed his tray aside.

"Then that's fine by me."

The table fell silent.

Then Yang let out a whistle. "Jaune Arc. The most dangerous 'average guy' at Beacon."

Nora beamed. "We should give you a title! The Unseen Warrior!"

Pyrrha smiled warmly. "Or perhaps… The Hidden Protector."

Jaune shook his head. "I'll stick with 'Jaune.'"

As he walked toward the dish return, Blake smirked. "He says that now… but one of those names is going to stick."

Weiss nodded. "At least we have a leader worthy of representing both teams."

Ruby grinned. "Yup!"

Yang stretched. "Welp. We're stuck with a combat prodigy, whether he likes it or not."

Nora clapped her hands. "And that demands celebration. Pancakes tonight?"

Ren sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. "As always."

As their conversation shifted to food, Jaune walked off, leaving behind their chatter.

But at the edge of the table, Blake didn't smile.

A whisper curled in the back of her mind, dark and quiet.

"The Invincible Human."

Her breath hitched.

The underground station. The flickering lights. The cold, calculating eyes watching her.

She shook her head.

Not now.

Lifting her chin, she forced her focus back on the others, letting their warmth pull her from the shadows.

For now, she let herself be here.

The cafeteria was still alive with the usual lunchtime buzz, trays clattering, conversations bouncing back and forth. But at one table, the air grew heavier as a different kind of noise began to rise.

"What's the matter, bunny? Cat got your tongue?"

The words sliced through the air like a knife, sharp and deliberate.

Laughter followed—mocking, cruel, and far too loud.

The shift was instant.

It was like the light dimmed, like the temperature in the room had dropped by a few degrees. A hush rippled outward, the tension radiating from a single corner of the cafeteria.

Jaune, who had been quietly sipping his drink, lowered his cup—slowly, deliberately.

Team RWBY and JNPR stopped talking, their focus snapping toward the source of the disturbance.

Near the center of the room, a Faunus girl stood frozen.

Velvet Scarlatina.

Her shoulders hunched, her fingers gripping the edges of her tray as though it were a shield. Her long rabbit ears lay flat against her head, a clear sign of distress.

And Cardin Winchester?

He and his team stood in a loose semi-circle, their presence looming, their grins wide with amusement.

"Didn't know they let strays eat with the real students," Russel laughed, nudging Dove, who chuckled along.

Yang's fists clenched instantly. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Weiss scowled, her fingers digging into the fabric of her uniform. "They're really doing this in front of everyone?"

Blake's jaw tightened, her fingers curled beneath the table.

Faunus harassment. Here. Now.

Her pulse quickened.

Her anger boiled.

She wanted to act—wanted to get up, to say something.

And then she felt it.

A presence.

Jaune was watching her.

Not the fight.

Her.

Her stomach twisted.

His glowing blue eyes, calm yet piercing, locked onto hers.

He was waiting.

Testing her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Would she step in? Would she speak up? Would she stand for one of her own?

She wanted to. She had to.

But she looked away.

She couldn't.

Not here. Not now.

A chair scraped back against the floor.

Blake's heart dropped.

Because Jaune was already moving.

The shift in the cafeteria's atmosphere was instantaneous.

Ren, always perceptive, stiffened, his eyes following Jaune's steps. "This isn't going to be a normal intervention."

Nora, usually the loudest at the table, said nothing, her grip tightening on her fork. "Nope."

Pyrrha's emerald eyes narrowed, watching Jaune's movements with a look of careful calculation.

Ruby, feeling a strange weight settle in her chest, swallowed hard.

"Jaune..."

She didn't know why she whispered his name.

Maybe she was trying to stop him.

Maybe she just needed to say it before something happened.

Jaune walked forward, his steps deliberate, heavy, the weight of his presence spreading through the cafeteria like a slow-moving storm.

He wasn't stomping.

He wasn't rushing.

But every step he took felt like a countdown.

Ruby and Blake felt it.

A sinking feeling, a slow realization.

It wasn't a fight that was coming.

It was a reckoning.

By the time he stopped just behind Cardin's group, the cafeteria had fallen into utter silence.

Velvet's wide, terrified eyes flickered toward Jaune, confusion and hope warring in them.

Jaune didn't acknowledge Cardin. Not yet.

His voice, low, controlled, absolute, cut through the quiet.

"Are you okay?"

Velvet hesitated, her hands gripping her tray so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Slowly, shakily, she reached for his outstretched hand—

And then—

Cardin grabbed Jaune's wrist.

The entire room tensed.

Jaune's fingers twitched.

Then—

Russel let out a laugh. "What's wrong, Arc? Gonna run to Pyrrha to save you?"

Dove smirked. "Yeah, what exactly are you gonna do? This isn't some sparring match—this is real."

Sky leaned in slightly. "Think he's frozen, boss?"

Jaune exhaled slowly.

Then, with calm, deliberate intent, he raised his free hand—

And placed it firmly on Cardin's shoulder.

The jeers stopped instantly.

Cardin's smug grin twitched.

A deep, low creak filled the air.

The metal of Cardin's shoulder plate began to crumple.

Cardin flinched, his muscles tensing as he tried to pull away—

Jaune's grip tightened.

The cafeteria fell completely silent.

The pressure increased.

The creaking grew louder.

Russel's smirk was gone. "Wait—"

Dove stepped back. "What the hell?!"

Sky's confidence shattered, his eyes flicking between Jaune's calm face and Cardin's slowly breaking armor.

Then Cardin felt it.

The pressure dug into his shoulder, pressing the damaged metal into his skin, grinding against bone.

A tremor of pain lanced through his body.

His breath hitched.

His face paled.

Jaune's grip didn't loosen.

He wasn't throwing a punch. He wasn't shouting.

He was simply crushing.

Yang's eyes widened. "Holy—"

Ruby grabbed the table, her knuckles white. "Jaune, stop!"

Weiss couldn't look away, her breath shallow.

Blake—who had seen Jaune destroy monsters with terrifying ease—felt her own heartbeat pick up.

Cardin made a small sound, barely a breath, but it was real.

Pain.

And fear.

Jaune's expression never changed.

He wasn't angry.

He wasn't taunting him.

He was just watching.

Like he was deciding if he should stop.

Cardin panicked.

He jerked back violently, breaking free of Jaune's grip.

The moment Jaune let go, Cardin stumbled back, clutching his shoulder, his entire stance unraveling.

His team watched in horror, none of them daring to say a word.

Jaune stepped forward once—not fast, not threatening, just close enough.

Cardin flinched.

"This isn't over, Arc," he hissed, though his voice lacked conviction.

Jaune's response was simple.

"It is for you."

Silence.

Then—without another word—Cardin turned on his heel and left, his team scrambling to follow him.

The cafeteria remained frozen.

Jaune turned back to Velvet.

"People like that will keep testing you," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You don't have to fight them—just don't give them what they want."

Velvet hesitated, then gave a small, grateful nod.

"...Thank you."

Jaune nodded, then turned and walked back to his seat.

Blake forced herself to breathe.

Jaune picked up his drink and took a sip.

Like nothing had happened.

But when he set it down, his gaze flicked toward her.

Not long. Not accusatory.

Just knowing.

And Blake?

She forced herself to meet his gaze.

Even though she already knew what he was thinking.

The transition from the tense silence of the cafeteria to the rapid-fire intensity of Professor Oobleck's classroom was jarring.

One moment, Team RWBY and JNPR had been watching Cardin break down under Jaune's grip, and the next?

They were scrambling to keep up with Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, who zipped across the front of the lecture hall, his words firing off faster than most could write.

"Now! As we continue our discussion on the history of the Faunus and their societal struggles, we must take a moment—just a brief one, mind you!—to discuss the infamous Faunus Uprising!"

He spun sharply, turning to face the class so suddenly that Weiss flinched, while Ruby nearly knocked over her notebook.

"Yes, yes! The very same uprising that led to the creation of the White Fang! But before we get to that, we must talk about the Menagerie! A fascinating subject, wouldn't you agree?"

Weiss, ever blunt, crossed her arms. "I suppose, but why does it matter where they live?"

The entire classroom suddenly fell silent.

Several students shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Blake's hands tightened into fists beneath her desk.

Oobleck, however, either didn't notice or chose to ignore the tension.

"Ah! Miss Schnee, an excellent—if somewhat blunt—question!" Oobleck adjusted his glasses, his movements sharp. "And one with a very important answer! Because the Menagerie is not simply where Faunus live, but rather where they were placed."

Yang frowned. "You make it sound like they didn't have a choice."

Oobleck grinned, his sharp green eyes flashing behind his glasses. "Because they didn't!"

The statement hung in the air for a beat too long.

Then—

He shot across the room, barely a blur, his coat flaring out behind him as he pulled up a massive holographic map of Remnant on the screen.

The display zoomed in on a large, isolated landmass near the southern waters.

"The Menagerie!" Oobleck declared, gesturing wildly. "A continent-sized landmass officially designated by the Valean, Mistrali, and Atlesian governments as a Faunus homeland!"

His voice dropped slightly, and his usual rapid speech slowed for a fraction of a second.

"But in truth… it was little more than an exile zone."

Blake's throat tightened.

Oobleck continued, gesturing toward the map as it zoomed in, highlighting dense jungles, arid deserts, and sprawling coastlines.

"At first, the Menagerie was considered a diplomatic success! A peaceful solution to the 'Faunus Problem'—" he made air quotes, his tone dripping with sarcasm "—providing them a land to call their own! But the reality? The majority of the continent was uninhabitable! The settlements given to the Faunus were small, poorly resourced, and cut off from the rest of Remnant!"

"Wait, so they just shoved the Faunus onto an island and told them to live with it?" Ruby asked, her silver eyes widening.

Oobleck spun on his heel to face her. "Precisely!"

Ruby made a disgusted face, while Yang let out a low whistle, shaking her head.

"That's… messed up," Yang muttered.

Oobleck grinned again, though there was no joy in it. "And so it was that, rather than offering equality, the kingdoms essentially told the Faunus, 'Here's a scrap of land, now kindly disappear.'"

Jaune listened silently, his expression neutral, but he didn't miss the way Blake's hands curled into fists beneath the desk.

Oobleck's voice grew sharper, his energy shifting slightly, the excitement in his tone replaced by a grim weight.

"And thus, tensions rose! The Faunus, abandoned in their so-called homeland, were still denied rights, still treated as lesser beings in the Kingdoms, still pushed to the fringes of society!"

He paused, letting the words settle over the room.

"Then came the breaking point."

The hologram changed.

Now, it showed a battlefield—old, grainy footage of smoke-filled streets, clashes between armed humans and Faunus, protests turned violent.

"The Faunus Rights Revolution—or, as some still call it, The Uprising—was not just a single battle, but rather a series of conflicts that erupted across all four kingdoms."

The images flickered through historic protests, riots, and military intervention.

"After decades of mistreatment, the Faunus fought back! Demanding equal treatment! Demanding to be seen as more than just second-class citizens!"

Oobleck then stopped pacing and turned to the class. His sharp eyes scanned the room.

"Now, let me ask something. How many of you Faunus in this room have personally faced discrimination because of your heritage?"

Silence stretched for a moment.

Then, slowly, a few hands went up.

A wolf Faunus girl near the back.

A fox Faunus boy sitting closer to the front.

And then, after a brief moment of hesitation, Velvet Scarlatina raised her hand.

Blake didn't move.

But she felt the weight of it.

Oobleck's gaze softened slightly, but his voice remained firm.

"And that," he said, "is why this violence has persisted for so long."

The screen behind him shifted again, showing a new image.

A battlefield.

"This brings us to the Battle of Fort Castle," Oobleck continued. "One of the bloodiest engagements of the Faunus War, and one that directly shaped the way the White Fang evolved."

The lesson continued as it had in the past, detailing the conflict, the key figures, and the eventual fallout.

Weiss remained focused, absorbing the information without making any of the same remarks she had in the past.

Blake, still tense, listened in silence.

But when Oobleck mentioned the recent decline in White Fang activities, Blake already knew the reason why.

Her eyes flicked briefly to Jaune.

But he never looked back at her.

He simply sat calmly, watching the lesson unfold like any other student.

Blake turned back toward the screen.

She knew why the White Fang had grown less violent.

She knew what had forced them to change.

And sitting there, watching Oobleck continue his lecture, she wondered how long it would take for the rest of the world to realize it too.

The hologram continued to play grainy footage of the Battle of Fort Castle, shifting between sketched recreations, old records, and war correspondence. The imagery showed Faunus fighters, their expressions hardened, their bodies ragged but unyielding, standing against human forces who should have won.

Oobleck's voice picked up in speed, a streak of excitement running through his words. "Now, students! The Battle of Fort Castle is a pivotal moment in the Faunus War! This was an engagement that—by all accounts—the human forces should have won! They had superior numbers, better supplies, and an entrenched position! And yet! Yet, they lost!"

He spun on his heel, his gaze flashing across the classroom. "Can anyone tell me why?"

A moment of silence. Then—

Cardin Winchester, still steamed from the cafeteria incident, scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "Tch. They probably just fought like animals."

The room froze.

Oobleck's head snapped toward him, his movements sharper than usual. "Ah! Mister Winchester!" His voice was tight, clipped. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

Cardin's smirk didn't waver, but there was unease beneath it. "What do you think I mean? They don't fight fair. They're a bunch of savages."

A low murmur ran through the class.

Blake went rigid, her hands clenching beneath the desk.

Jaune said nothing.

Velvet, sitting near the back, lowered her gaze, her ears twitching slightly.

Weiss turned, scowling at Cardin. "That's a ridiculous answer. You really think they won just because of dirty tactics?If that were true, they wouldn't have been able to sustain the fight long enough to win at all."

Oobleck nodded sharply. "Indeed! That answer is both incorrect and offensive, Mister Winchester! I would advise you to think before you speak."

Cardin grumbled something under his breath but said nothing more.

Oobleck's attention turned away from him, his eyes scanning the room. "Now then! Let's have a proper answer!" He pointed toward Pyrrha. "Miss Nikos! You are a prodigy of warfare, a master strategist—surely you have a more informed perspective?"

Pyrrha, who had been watching the conversation with quiet calculation, nodded and sat up straight.

"The Faunus won at Fort Castle because of their adaptability," she explained, her voice even and confident. "The human forces were stationary, reliant on their fortifications and traditional formations. The Faunus, however, were used to fighting on the move—they had better maneuverability and were more willing to take risks. They turned their smaller numbers into an advantage by using guerilla tactics, striking at weak points and refusing to fight on the enemy's terms."

Oobleck's eyes gleamed with approval. "Ah! Excellent! Excellent! You touch on a very key point, Miss Nikos!"

Pyrrha smiled, but Oobleck wasn't finished.

He raised a finger. "However! There is something else! Something that most historians overlook when they discuss the Battle of Fort Castle!"

He turned suddenly, his gaze landing on Jaune Arc.

Jaune, who had not spoken a single word the entire class, met Oobleck's eyes with quiet composure.

Oobleck's expression shifted, his excitement tempered, as he adjusted his glasses.

"Ah, Mister Arc! You've been rather silent, despite being a rather... promising student in our other classes!" His eyes narrowed, watching Jaune closely. "Perhaps you might have an insight that many others do not?"

The class turned to Jaune, curious.

Jaune remained still.

For a brief moment, nobody knew if he was going to answer at all.

Then—

Jaune exhaled quietly and sat up slightly, his voice steady and deliberate.

"Desperation."

A hush fell over the class.

Jaune's tone did not waver, but there was weight in it—an understanding that went beyond history books and lectures.

"They didn't fight because they thought they could win," Jaune continued, his calm blue eyes scanning the room. "They fought because they had no other choice."

Oobleck's smile vanished.

"They were outnumbered. Outgunned. If they lost, they wouldn't just be defeated—they'd be crushed. Erased. Forgotten."

Jaune's voice, though measured, carried a gravitas that settled into the bones of every student listening.

"It wasn't about strategy. It wasn't about skill. It was about survival. To them, this wasn't just a war. It wasn't just a battle."

He let the words linger, his gaze steady, unwavering.

"It was existence or oblivion."

The weight of his statement pressed into the room like a hammer.

Velvet, who had kept her head down for most of the discussion, slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes wide with silent awe.

Blake, whose hands had remained clenched beneath the desk, felt her fingers relax slightly, though she wasn't sure why.

Oobleck remained still, his fingers tapping together as he watched Jaune closely.

"Yes…" he murmured. "That is precisely it."

He turned back to the class, his voice quieter, more deliberate. "Most people believe war is won by the strongest forces, the best-trained soldiers, or the greatest weapons. And yet, again and again throughout history, we see time and time again that desperation changes everything."

He gestured toward the screen. "The Faunus at Fort Castle had to win. The cost of losing was something they were not willing to accept. And that kind of drive—the will to endure, to fight no matter the odds—is something that history often ignores."

Oobleck turned back to Jaune. "Well said, Mister Arc."

Jaune nodded once, saying nothing more.

But the class was still staring at him.

Not because they thought he had experience with something like that.

But because his answer had cut through everything else—beyond tactics, beyond military doctrine.

He had seen something that most others wouldn't.

That kind of insight, that kind of understanding, wasn't something that just anyone had.

And for the Faunus in the room?

For Velvet? For the others who had raised their hands?

Jaune's words didn't just sound like an answer.

They sounded like acknowledgement.

A recognition of something buried deep within them.

The reason their parents fought.

The reason their ancestors refused to be erased.

Not because they thought they could win.

But because they couldn't afford to lose.

And that, more than anything, was what separated Fort Castle from any other battle in history.

The doors to the lecture hall swung open, and students poured into the courtyard, their voices carrying with them the weight of something profound.

But for Team RWBY and JNPR, the world outside felt different.

Not in a way that felt wrong—but in a way that made them feel as though they had just witnessed something greater than themselves.

Something they would never forget.

And the reason for that was Jaune Arc.

They walked together in silence, but the silence was not empty. It was full—brimming with something unspoken yet understood.

Because Jaune Arc had just taught them something that no book, no teacher, no classroom ever had.

Something fundamental.

Something true.

Jaune walked ahead of them, not leading, not following, simply moving forward as he always did—with purpose, with certainty, with control.

His steps were measured, his pace steady, as though he were walking a path that had already been decided long before.

He didn't look like someone who had just shattered the way they all viewed history.

He didn't carry himself like someone who had just left an entire class speechless.

He just was.

And that?

That made it even more profound.

Yang was the first to break the silence, shaking her head and letting out a low whistle. "Okay," she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know how to say this, but… damn, Jaune."

"It wasn't just an answer," Pyrrha said softly, her emerald eyes filled with quiet understanding. "It was something more."

"Something bigger," Ren murmured, his tone more thoughtful than usual. "Something most people never even realize exists."

"It was wisdom," Weiss corrected, her voice lacking its usual sharpness, now tinged with reflection. "Not the kind you read about. The kind that makes you see the world differently."

Jaune walked without responding, as if his words had been nothing special.

But they were.

They were everything.

And none of them could stop thinking about it.

"I don't think I've ever heard anything like that before," Ruby finally said, her silver eyes gleaming with something more than just admiration.

Jaune had been her first friend at Beacon.

She had always admired him.

She had respected him for his strength, his intelligence, his skill in battle.

But this?

This was something more.

Jaune wasn't just strong.

He was wise.

It wasn't just that he understood history better than they did—he understood people.

He understood what drives them, what fuels them, what makes them refuse to break even when the world is trying to crush them.

He had seen something that most people never do.

He had understood something most people never even come close to realizing.

And that?

That made her feel small.

Not in a way that made her feel lesser.

But in a way that made her feel like she had just caught her first glimpse of the real world.

Jaune wasn't just a leader or a warrior.

He was someone who saw beyond the fight itself.

And that was…

Inspiring.

But for all of them, no one was more shaken than Blake.

She had feared Jaune Arc for so long.

The Invincible Human.

The unstoppable force whispered about in White Fang strongholds, the legend that had haunted her people, the one they all feared.

The one she had run from.

Because he had been a force of destruction.

But the man who spoke in that classroom?

That was someone who understood.

Not just history.

Not just war.

He understood the struggle itself.

He had given a voice to her people's pain—to something that so many humans ignored, dismissed, or twisted into something monstrous.

And he had done it without anger, without hatred, without bias.

He had just spoken the truth.

And now?

Blake felt something shift inside her.

She had always seen Jaune as a force she had to run from.

But now?

Now she wasn't so sure.

And for the first time since she had met him, she felt something new.

She felt relief.

She felt hope.

Because if someone like Jaune Arc—strong, brilliant, and utterly unshakable—could understand what it was like to be pushed into a corner with no choice but to fight…

Then maybe, just maybe, the Faunus weren't as alone as she had always believed.

She smiled.

Just a little.

Not enough for anyone to notice.

But enough for herself.

Jaune, as always, kept walking forward.

And this time?

Blake didn't feel the need to walk behind him.

She walked beside him.

The work was finally done.

The once abandoned, dust-filled relic of a building was now a fully restored, modernized, and personalized home for Team RWBY and Team JNPR.

For an entire week, every spare moment outside of classes had been spent dedicating themselves to this project. Late nights, early mornings, sweat, exhaustion—it had all been worth it.

Now, standing in the center of their fully finished common area, the teams took it all in.

It wasn't just a place to stay.

It was theirs.

Every part of the building had been touched, fixed, and refined by their own hands.

Weiss, taking charge of the design and furnishing, had ensured that every space was both functional and elegant. She had coordinated layouts, handpicked furniture that balanced comfort with professionalism, and used her resources to acquire high-quality furnishings. The common room, the meeting areas, and even the dorms carried her signature touch of refinement.

Ren, with his meticulous precision, had handled walls, doors, and windows. He had made sure that every door swung smoothly, that every window was reinforced, and that the walls were solid and insulated for privacy and durability. His quiet efficiency had made everything seamless.

Nora and Yang, embracing their love for physical labor, had thrown themselves into painting and flooring. They had taken the old, faded walls and given them new life, the once-creaky floors now strong and polished. They may have gotten into several paint fights, but in the end, it had turned out perfectly.

Blake, with her sharp eye for craftsmanship, had worked on fixtures and woodworking. She had rebuilt support beams, adjusted shelving and storage, and crafted wooden furniture pieces herself, adding a touch of warmth and quality that no store-bought item could replicate.

Ruby, unsurprisingly, had been in charge of electronics and devices. The building was now outfitted with a high-end security system, advanced communication links, and top-of-the-line networking. Every monitor, every screen, and every terminal had been installed and optimized by her hands.

Pyrrha, using her strength and understanding of structure, had tackled reinforcements and insulation. She had worked alongside Ren to secure foundations, ensuring that the building was stronger than ever, capable of handling anything thrown at it.

Jaune, meanwhile, had handled the most intricate systems—electrical wiring, HVAC, and plumbing.

But he hadn't just fixed them.

He had enhanced them.

While the others had focused on the physical structure and design, Jaune had been quietly implementing cutting-edge systems behind the scenes.

Power Circulation – An advanced energy system that ensured perfect efficiency, reducing waste and even allowing power distribution across the building.

Air Filtration – A state-of-the-art purification system, keeping the air crisp and clean, removing impurities and dust, making the air inside better than anywhere else in Beacon.

Water Heating & Pumping – A high-performance system providing instant, evenly distributed hot water, designed to conserve energy while keeping comfort high.

Jaune had taken a forgotten structure and turned it into something beyond expectations.

And now, as they stood together, they weren't just admiring a finished project.

They were moving in.

They explored every room, seeing it not just as a project they built—but as a home they had made.

Each dorm was crafted personally.

Each team member had taken what was once a two-person dormitory and, using the extra space, transformed it into something uniquely theirs.

Weiss's room was sleek and minimalistic, with a refined desk, an elegant chair, and shelves stocked with books and data pads. A handcrafted vanity stood near the window, and a perfectly organized wardrobe gave her the refined space she had envisioned.

Blake's room had a soft yet structured feel, with handcrafted bookshelves she had built herself, a low reading table, and a quiet workspace tucked in the corner. She had even installed a hidden compartment beneath her desk—old habits die hard.

Yang's room was, unsurprisingly, vibrant and lively. A weight station took up one side, a large speaker system lined another, and her desk was more of a workshop for maintenance on Ember Celica. It was equal parts workout space and personal hangout spot.

Ruby's room was filled with gadgets, parts, and ongoing projects. Her desk was more of a workbench, her walls lined with tools and blueprints, and her bed sat right next to her computer station. It was chaotic, but it was Ruby.

Ren's room was immaculate and peaceful, the walls a soft color, his furniture simple and functional. A small meditation area sat near the window, and his workspace was dedicated to organizing supplies and schedules.

Nora's room was explosive in color and personality, featuring posters, weights, and a small section filled with snacks. Her gaming setup was top-tier, courtesy of Ruby's technical skills.

Pyrrha's room was surprisingly warm and personal, with seating for visitors, a training area, and a small shelf dedicated to old memorabilia from Mistral. Her workspace had been set up to maintain and modify her weapons, every tool meticulously organized.

And then there was Jaune's room.

Jaune's space was deceptively simple at first glance. His bed and dresser area were extremely minimal, the room almost sterile in its organization.

But then there were the modifications.

In one corner of the room sat two seemingly innocuous machines—the Omni-Forge and a high-grade 3D printer, both of which he had secretly brought from his own technology stash.

When inactive, they looked like fancy decorative gadgets, blending in with the room's design. But in truth?

They were cutting-edge fabrication tools, capable of producing weapon components, armor enhancements, and even specialized tools.

Against one wall was a bookcase, filled with the most advanced knowledge on Remnant—texts on engineering, medicine, warfare, strategy, and technology. Every book was something that could be studied and applied, not just read for leisure.

At the center of the far wall was a large screen, displaying security camera feeds, power flow data, air and water circulation readouts, and any other system diagnostics he needed at a glance.

And finally, there was his secondary bed.

Built into the ceiling, a mechanized platform could be lowered over his main bed, forming a pseudo-bunk bed system.

Not because he needed it.

But because extra space might be needed later.

Because Jaune Arc thought ahead.

As they all unpacked, explored, and finally settled into their rooms, they weren't just moving into a mission base.

They were moving into a home.

And as Jaune double-checked the systems, making sure everything was running at peak performance, he silently acknowledged something.

They had built this together.

And now?

It was theirs.

For the first time since they had taken on the monumental task of rebuilding the Task Force Building, they weren't working.

They weren't hauling furniture, they weren't wiring systems, they weren't hammering, painting, or reinforcing anything.

They were just relaxing.

And it felt amazing.

The common room—once a dusty, lifeless space filled with broken furniture and cobwebs—was now the centerpiece of their home. The walls were freshly painted, the furniture plush and inviting, and the lighting perfectly balanced between warm and modern. The entire space felt cozy but professional, reflecting the balance between comfort and purpose that they had all agreed on.

And now?

Now they were finally enjoying it.

Yang stretched her arms behind her head, sinking further into the large sectional couch, letting out a satisfied groan. "Okay, I'll say it—I am never leaving this couch. This is peak comfort."

Nora was sprawled half on the couch, half on the floor, her head resting on Ren's lap as she grinned up at the ceiling. "Did we really build all this? Because this is, like… too nice for us."

Ren, sitting calmly despite being used as a pillow, nodded. "It's nice. More than nice." He glanced around the room, his eyes relaxing in a way they rarely did. "It's… home."

Ruby beamed, bouncing slightly in her seat, her energy finally channeled into excitement rather than work. "It ishome! It's so perfect! The chairs are comfortable, the floors are clean, the tech is state-of-the-art, and everything is just—" She hugged herself, practically vibrating with happiness. "—so cozy!"

Blake, who had taken her usual spot near the window, curled up in one of the handcrafted wooden chairs she had built herself, a book resting on her lap. "I'll admit, I was skeptical about how quickly we could finish all of this." She ran her hand along the smooth wooden frame, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But we pulled it off."

Pyrrha sat gracefully on one of the armchairs, her expression soft and content. "It's more than just a mission base now." She looked around at the room, at her friends, at the place they had built together. "This is ours. No matter what happens, no matter where we go from here… we'll always have this place."

Weiss, sitting perfectly poised with a cup of tea in her hands, let out a small sigh. "I have to admit… I'm proud of what we accomplished." She gave a small nod of approval, her lips curving slightly. "We didn't just restore a building. We created something better."

Yang grinned. "It's official, Weiss. You like it here."

Weiss scoffed. "I tolerate it here."

Blake smirked behind her book. "You love it here."

Weiss huffed, sipping her tea. "Fine. It's… acceptable."

The laughter that followed was easy, warm, the kind that filled a space and made it feel alive.

Jaune sat in the corner of the room, quietly watching the scene unfold.

He wasn't one for idle conversation, but he took in everything.

The way Yang and Nora sprawled lazily, reveling in their own comfort.

The way Ren sat peacefully, his usual tension gone for the first time in weeks.

The way Blake, despite her usual quiet demeanor, actually seemed… at ease, flipping through her book with genuine relaxation.

The way Pyrrha smiled, knowing she had built something more than just walls, but a foundation for something greater.

The way Weiss—of all people—actually admitted she liked something that wasn't pre-approved by the Schnee name.

And Ruby?

Ruby looked like she had never been happier.

Her silver eyes were bright, her entire body filled with pure joy as she just took everything in.

Jaune's gaze swept across the room one last time, then, without a word, he leaned back, allowing himself a moment to just be here.

Not thinking.

Not planning.

Not working.

Just… being.

And for the first time since arriving at Beacon, it felt like he wasn't just preparing for what came next.

He was where he needed to be.

This was theirs now.

Their home.

And Jaune?

Jaune was finally letting himself enjoy it.

The warmth of their conversation lingered, laughter still echoing through the newly finished common room, the space alive in a way that it had never been before.

It was theirs now.

The building, once a forgotten relic of Beacon's past, was now something more than just a mission base. It was a home they had built together, forged through their own hands, sweat, and effort.

And for the first time in a week, they were finally enjoying it.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

The sound cut through the room, making everyone pause.

All eyes turned to the front entrance.

Jaune, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, rose to his feet without hesitation.

His steps were measured, purposeful, as he moved toward the door. He didn't hesitate, didn't question—he simply answered.

When he opened the door, Professor Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch stood waiting.

Ozpin's usual calm, unreadable expression remained in place, his cane held lightly in one hand. Glynda, standing beside him, had her usual strict, authoritative air, but something warmer flickered beneath it.

The rest of the team straightened slightly, a mix of curiosity and anticipation filling the air.

Ozpin's gaze swept across the room, taking in the fully restored common area, the pristine furniture, polished floors, and freshly painted walls. His lips curled slightly, almost imperceptibly, before he spoke.

"May we come in?"

Jaune stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

As Ozpin and Glynda walked further into the refurbished space, their eyes traced every detail—the reinforced walls, the custom-built wooden furniture, the elegant and efficient layout.

After a moment, Glynda let out a small sigh of approval. "I must admit," she said, adjusting her glasses, "this turned out better than I expected."

Weiss smirked slightly, crossing her arms. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Ozpin chuckled, his sharp eyes glinting with curiosity. "So," he said, "why don't you tell us what you've done with the place?"

The team exchanged glances, their exhaustion from the week of work forgotten for a moment as pride took its place.

Ruby practically bounced in her seat, eager to list off every accomplishment. "Oh! Well, first, we tackled the electronics and security systems—I wired the entire building with high-speed networking, advanced security locks, and a state-of-the-art surveillance system!"

"She basically turned this place into a mini-command center," Yang added with a grin.

Weiss flipped her hair back, standing tall. "I handled the interior design and furnishing. Everything you see was chosen with efficiency, elegance, and durability in mind."

"Ren and I handled the walls, doors, and windows," Pyrrha explained, gesturing toward their surroundings. "We reinforced everything, sealed every crack, and ensured the structural integrity was flawless."

Nora stretched her arms. "And Yang and I did the painting and flooring! It was messy—and I may have ended up with more paint on myself than the walls—but, uh…" She grinned. "It turned out great!"

Blake, who had been leaning against one of her handmade bookshelves, spoke next. "I worked on the fixtures and woodwork—support beams, shelving, and customized furniture." She tapped the armrest of the chair she was sitting in. "Most of what you see was handcrafted."

Ozpin nodded in appreciation, his gaze scanning the room with a thoughtful glint.

"And what about you, Mister Arc?"

Jaune's voice was even, precise, as he listed his contributions.

"Electrical wiring, HVAC, and plumbing. Installed power circulation to optimize energy efficiency, air filtration to keep the space dust-free and purified, and water heating and pumping for instant access across all systems."

Glynda raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "You handled all of that yourself?"

Jaune simply nodded once.

Glynda's gaze shifted, finally landing on the diagnostics panel mounted on the wall.

Her brows furrowed as she took a step forward, eyes scanning the active display of security camera feeds, power flow data, air and water circulation readouts, and system diagnostics.

"This," she murmured, "is… quite advanced."

Ruby grinned, nudging Jaune's arm. "I know, right?! Jaune's basically turned this place into a high-tech fortress!"

Ozpin smiled slightly, his gaze lingering on the seamless integration of technology and functionality.

Then, he exhaled softly and folded his hands over his cane.

"Your work is impressive," he said. "Beacon hasn't had a facility like this in quite some time."

He turned his gaze back toward the team, his smile shifting slightly, becoming something more knowing.

"When the funding is approved, the resources that were originally planned for this restoration will be reimbursed to you," he said. "The funds will be yours to use as you see fit, should you wish to make further enhancements or modifications."

Weiss's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—so we get to control the funding ourselves?"

Ozpin nodded. "Consider it compensation for your hard work."

The team exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from pride to excitement.

"That means we can add more upgrades!" Ruby exclaimed. "Like hidden compartments and automated defenses!"

"Or a fully stocked armory," Pyrrha added thoughtfully.

Nora gasped dramatically. "Or a pancake bar!"

Ren sighed. "Of course."

The energy in the room was bright, hopeful, the feeling of accomplishment settling in fully—

Until Ozpin's expression shifted.

The warmth faded, replaced by something heavier.

His fingers tightened around his cane, his calm demeanor holding a weight beneath it.

And then, with a tired sigh, he spoke.

"I wish I could say that was the only reason for our visit," he admitted. "But I've received word from Atlas. General Ironwood has requested assistance."

The energy in the room dimmed slightly, replaced with confusion.

"Assistance?" Weiss asked, brow furrowing.

"For what?" Pyrrha added.

Yang blinked. "Wait… is this still about base remodeling?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then, despite the seriousness of the moment, a small chuckle escaped Ozpin's lips.

The joke, however, did not lighten Jaune's mind.

His calculating instincts were already at work, connecting pieces, weighing options, and considering what this could mean.

Ozpin turned his gaze toward Jaune, eyes sharp as if he knew exactly what Jaune was thinking.

Jaune's expression remained blank, but his mind wasn't.

There weren't many things Atlas would request Beacon's help with.

And there was only one that this team, specifically, would be suited for.

Ozpin let the silence settle, then finally said it.

"There's a temple in Mantle."

The air changed instantly.

The team froze.

The room that had been warm and inviting just moments ago now felt cold.

The lighthearted excitement of just a minute before? Gone.

It was like the temperature had dropped, like the shadows had grown deeper.

The energy in the room was gone.

Where there had been laughter and warmth, where they had finally settled into their new home, everything froze with Ozpin's words.

"There's a temple in Mantle."

It was like the air itself had been ripped away.

The temperature seemed to drop, the once-cozy common room feeling cold and unfamiliar.

Everyone felt it—the weight of those words settling over them like chains locking into place.

Because they all remembered.

The Beacon Temple.

The twisted corridors, the whispers that dug into their minds, the nightmares given form.

The things that should not exist.

The things they barely survived.

And now?

There was another one.

Jaune was the first to move.

His body straightened, his posture becoming rigid, his gaze sharpening into focused intensity.

He knew what Ozpin was about to say before he said it.

And he refused to let anyone else carry this weight before he understood it first.

"What has Atlas done about it?"

His voice was even, but there was a steel edge to it, cutting through the heavy silence.

Ozpin's eyes flicked toward him, a silent acknowledgment of his composure before he answered.

"They sent in a Specialist and six of their best Special Forces operatives. They entered the temple two weeks ago."

A pause.

"They haven't been heard from since."

That sentence landed like a punch to the gut.

Ren exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table.

Yang's arms were crossed tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves.

Weiss's confident posture faltered, her arms wrapping around herself.

Nora, who was never quiet, swallowed hard.

Blake sat motionless, but her golden eyes flickered with deep unease.

Jaune's mind processed the information instantly, slotting together possibilities, worst-case scenarios.

"Why us?"

His question was blunt, cutting to the heart of the issue immediately.

Ozpin's lips curved slightly, a knowing look in his gaze. "You already know the answer, Mr. Arc."

Jaune did know.

But he wanted to hear it aloud.

Ozpin sighed, adjusting his grip on his cane. "When reviewing the recordings taken from Miss Schnee's Scroll during the Beacon Temple incident, we observed something… unique."

A beat of silence.

"The moment you did whatever you did to break that temple's hold, your entire team… glowed."

Weiss blinked. "Glowed?"

Ozpin nodded. "Your bodies became encased in a faint energy, just before you all… fell through the temple's barrier."

Jaune nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place.

"The barriers those temples cast don't let people in or out once they've been triggered," Ozpin continued. "But somehow, you and your team bypassed that."

Blake exhaled slowly, realization dawning. "You think… we can do it again."

"Precisely," Ozpin confirmed.

Silence.

Not just fear.

Dread.

They had to go back.

They had to step into that nightmare again.

And none of them wanted to.

Not after what they saw.

Not after what they fought.

Not after what that place did to them.

Jaune felt the weight of their fear, but he didn't hesitate.

"I'll go."

The words came so easily.

Like he had already decided the moment Ozpin spoke.

Like there had never been any other outcome.

The moment he said it, the room shifted again.

Not just in fear, but in shock.

Ruby snapped toward him, her eyes wide, filled with disbelief. "Jaune?! What?!"

The others turned to him immediately, all of them staring like he had just said the most insane thing imaginable.

"Hold on," Yang said, her voice sharper now, frustration bleeding through her fear. "You're just—what? Walking into that place alone?"

"You can't be serious," Weiss muttered, shaking her head. "No one's even come back from that temple! How can you just—"

"You're actually considering this?" Blake asked, her golden eyes wide with disbelief.

"Jaune, that place is…" Pyrrha's voice trailed off, but the horror in her expression said enough.

Jaune simply nodded.

"Have supplies ready," he said, his voice firm, steady, absolute. "If there are survivors, they'll need food. A lot of it."

Ruby's breath caught in her throat.

He wasn't joking.

He wasn't trying to be brave.

He was actually planning to do this.

And that was terrifying.

"Jaune," Ruby whispered, her voice trembling. "Why? Why would you just agree to this?"

Jaune turned to them fully, his glowing blue eyes sweeping over each of them.

And when he spoke, it wasn't just words.

It was conviction.

It was fire and steel and something unbreakable.

"Because they are trapped in there. They are alone, and no one is coming for them."

His voice was calm, but it held an undeniable weight.

"If that were us—if we were the ones stuck in that nightmare, waiting for rescue—wouldn't we want someone to come for us?"

The words hit harder than anything else had that day.

Yang's smirk was gone, replaced with something vulnerable, unsure.

Weiss's confidence wavered, her arms wrapping around herself.

Blake's fingers loosened slightly, but she still couldn't look at him.

Pyrrha's eyes flickered with something deep, something raw.

They had been there.

They had felt the hopelessness, the horrors that lurked in the darkness.

And now?

Now, there were people still inside.

People who might still be alive.

People who needed help.

Ruby closed her eyes tightly, her breath shaky.

She didn't want to go back.

But…

She opened her eyes and looked at Jaune.

Her first friend at Beacon.

Her leader.

And for all of his cold, logical precision, for all of his unshaken confidence, for all of the strength and skill he had displayed over and over again—

He wasn't doing this because he had to.

He was doing this because someone had to.

And suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

Ruby clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"I'm going too."

Jaune nodded once, as if he had already known.

Then—

"I'm in," Yang said, her voice steady.

"Me too," Pyrrha added, with more resolve than before.

Weiss sighed, rubbing her temple. "Against my better judgment… I'm in."

Blake exhaled sharply. "Fine. I'm going."

Nora straightened. "We have to go! We signed up to help people, not just to fight Grimm!"

Ren simply nodded. "Then we're all going."

Jaune looked at each of them, his gaze cool, assessing.

Then, he nodded once.

Ozpin smiled.

"You also have an advantage," he said.

They all looked at him in confusion.

Ozpin's eyes glowed faintly behind his glasses.

"You know what's in there."

Silence.

And for the first time in a long time…

They weren't sure if that was a good thing or a curse.

The air in the common room was no longer warm, no longer filled with the sense of accomplishment they had reveled in just an hour ago. The atmosphere was sharp, filled with silent tension as every member of the team stood fully geared, their weapons secured, their armor refined and polished, their supplies packed.

Each of them had taken extra ammo, extra rations, extra supplies—not just for themselves, but for whoever might still be alive in the Mantle temple.

This wasn't just a mission anymore.

This was a rescue.

This was war.

Jaune stood at the front of the room, his blue eyes cold and unreadable, his body language giving away nothing. He was the first to speak, his voice steady, unwavering, absolute.

"We're ready."

Ozpin and Glynda, who had been waiting for them, took in the sight before them.

The sharp gazes, the tightened grips on weapons, the resolve set deep into their expressions.

Ozpin nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a faint flicker of something in his eyes.

"General Ironwood will be awaiting your arrival," he said. "I've already given Jaune the coordinates on where to meet."

Weiss adjusted the straps of her battle attire, her frown deepening. "At this hour? Most airships that go beyond the kingdom are already underway."

Ozpin turned to her, his small, knowing smile barely visible beneath the dim lighting.

"I imagine Jaune will be using his ship."

The room froze.

Every head snapped toward Jaune.

Jaune stopped mid-motion, his hand tightening around the strap of his pack.

He turned his head slowly, his glowing blue eyes flickering in realization.

Ozpin had just revealed his ship earlier than he had wanted.

The silence was heavy.

Then—

"What," Yang said, very slowly, "do you mean his ship?"

Jaune didn't answer.

Weiss blinked in disbelief, her mind racing. "Wait. You have a ship?!"

Nora's jaw dropped. "Like a real ship?!"

Ren, usually the one to keep his emotions contained, looked at Jaune with mild astonishment.

Blake… didn't react outwardly. But the way her ears twitched showed she was absolutely not expecting that.

Jaune sighed, adjusting his grip on his gear. "Yes."

Ruby, who had known Jaune since their first days at Beacon, looked at him with pure betrayal.

"You had a ship this whole time and you didn't tell us?!"

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. "It wasn't relevant."

"Not relevant?!" Yang threw her hands up. "You've been living next to a hangar this whole time, and I thought it was just some old storage building!"

Weiss looked at Ozpin in pure exasperation. "And you knew this whole time?"

Ozpin, ever composed, merely sipped his coffee.

"I did," he admitted. "It was, after all, stored in the facility I granted Jaune access to upon his arrival."

Silence.

Jaune felt all their gazes sharpen onto him.

It was Pyrrha who finally spoke, her voice carefully measured.

"You… have a personal ship?"

Jaune nodded once. "It's docked in the hangar next to our building."

Blake frowned. "Then why didn't you—"

"Because it didn't matter," Jaune interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "Not until now."

The room was thick with realization.

Jaune had always been different. They knew that.

But now, they were seeing just how much he had been keeping in reserve.

Ozpin, still smiling ever so slightly, looked toward Jaune again.

"I assume you'll be taking the Tempest, then?"

Jaune gave him a long look, before finally nodding.

"Yes."

The team stared.

The Tempest.

Jaune's ship.

As if things hadn't already changed enough, now they were about to step onto something that belonged entirely to Jaune Arc.

And somehow, that made this mission feel even more real.

The night air was crisp, cool against their skin as they walked across the courtyard, heading toward the hangar next door.

Jaune led the way with his usual measured stride, his posture straight, his focus unwavering.

The others?

They were still trying to process reality.

Jaune owned a ship.

Jaune had built a ship.

And apparently, they were about to see it for the first time.

Yang let out a half-laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, so before we go in there, I just want to set some expectations here."

She shot Jaune a look. "We're probably talking about, like, a small drop ship, right? Something compact? Maybe an old scout model?"

Jaune didn't even glance at her. "You'll see soon enough."

Yang smirked, nudging Ruby. "I mean, come on, what else could it be? It's not like Jaune's hiding a full-sized airship in here or something."

Jaune said nothing.

The silence that followed was heavy.

Then—

Jaune stepped forward and placed his palm against a small panel on the hangar's side.

A faint mechanical chime echoed as the security locks disengaged.

The massive steel doors rumbled as they began to part, revealing an entrance shrouded in complete and utter darkness.

A void.

An empty abyss that swallowed them whole.

Ruby hesitated at the threshold. "Uh… Jaune? Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

Jaune walked inside without hesitation.

The others followed, but unease clung to their every step as they entered the unknown.

Then—

A single chime.

A low mechanical hum filled the space.

The hangar lights ignited all at once, blinding them in a sudden burst of artificial daylight.

"Ah—!" Ruby winced, shielding her eyes.

"Ugh!" Weiss groaned, throwing up a hand. "Jaune, warn us next time!"

"Did we just die?" Nora whispered dramatically to Ren.

Then their eyes adjusted.

And they saw it.

The Tempest

Sleek. Advanced. Unlike any airship they had ever seen before.

It wasn't just a ship.

It was a masterpiece of engineering.

The Tempest sat in the hangar like a predator at rest, its sleek, streamlined frame sculpted with perfect aerodynamic precision. Its dark metallic plating wasn't rough like most military airships—it was smooth, giving it the look of something born to cut through the skies effortlessly.

The cockpit, positioned at the front of the ship, was a perfectly curved observation dome, reinforced with darkened plating that shimmered with subtle energy fields.

Its thrusters—compact but powerful—were integrated into the hull seamlessly, built into hidden compartmentsthat only revealed themselves when powered up, minimizing aerodynamic drag and maximizing speed and maneuverability.

And the most stunning feature?

The central airfoil wing structure at the ship's rear—twin stabilizers extending outward in a beautifully symmetrical design, flaring slightly at the tips, giving the entire ship an almost avian grace.

It looked faster than anything they had ever seen before.

It looked like it wasn't built to fly through Remnant's skies—but through something greater.

It was a vessel made for the unknown.

And all of them were struggling to process what they were seeing.

"…Holy crap," Yang whispered.

Ruby's mouth fell open. "Jaune. What. The. Heck."

"This isn't just a ship," Weiss muttered, staring in pure disbelief. "This is… technology far beyond anything in the Kingdoms."

"How…?" Blake murmured, eyes scanning the advanced systems integrated into the frame, unable to process how Jaune Arc, of all people, had built something like this.

"This… is amazing," Pyrrha admitted, voice filled with genuine awe.

"HOW DOES THIS EVEN EXIST?!" Nora finally exploded, spinning to face Jaune. "Jaune, this isn't a ship! This is a flying fortress of death and coolness!"

Jaune simply folded his arms, watching their reactions with a calm expression, completely unbothered by their disbelief.

"It's the Tempest," he said simply.

Silence.

Then—

"THE Tempest?!" Ruby nearly screeched, whipping around to face him fully. "That's what you named it?! That sounds like something out of a legend!"

"It's a fitting name," Jaune said, nonchalantly.

"A fitting name?!" Weiss repeated, voice bordering on hysterical. "Jaune, do you even realize what this is?! This is beyond anything Atlas has! This is beyond anything I've ever seen before!"

"I've seen military-grade airships," Ren added, his usual composure slipping into something closer to stunned admiration. "And this… isn't like them. This is something else entirely."

Blake, who had been silent until now, took a step forward, her golden eyes still locked onto the Tempest, her voice low, almost reverent.

"You built this yourself?"

Jaune nodded. "Yes."

Blake stared at him for a long moment before turning back to the ship.

Then, softly, she murmured, "Incredible."

Jaune remained still, watching them process it, knowing that this was something they weren't going to fully comprehend in a single night.

The Tempest was his creation, something that existed outside the rules of their world, and now, for the first time, they were seeing the full extent of what he was capable of.

And somehow, that realization felt bigger than the mission itself.

The Tempest sat before them, a marvel of engineering, a ship that looked like it belonged in the future, not hidden away in a forgotten hangar on Beacon's campus.

The team stood motionless, their brains still trying to process the sheer impossibility of what they were looking at.

Jaune Arc, the guy they had known for months, the guy who never made a spectacle of himself, the guy who purposely blended in, had been hiding this.

And the realization that he had built it himself?

It was too much.

They didn't even know where to start.

And then—

Ruby took a deep, shaky breath, hands clenched into fists at her sides as she slowly turned toward Jaune.

Her silver eyes were wide, filled with something between utter disbelief and overwhelmed excitement.

"Jaune," she said, very carefully, like she was trying to contain the explosion of questions inside her head.

"Yes?"

She inhaled sharply through her nose.

"What kind of engine does this thing run on?!"

Jaune blinked.

Weiss immediately snapped her head around, suddenly hyper-focused. "Yes! What kind of propulsion system could possibly move a ship like this?! It's too sleek! There's no drag!"

"And the thrusters!" Ruby rushed toward the back of the ship, practically vibrating as she examined the compact but powerful design of the engines. "How do you even achieve that kind of acceleration?! Is this some kind of next-gen compression thruster?"

Jaune sighed but followed her.

"It's a modified dual-element drive system," he explained. "Primary propulsion is built around an advanced gravimetric core, allowing for smooth vertical takeoffs and high-altitude maneuvering. Secondary thrusters are designed for atmospheric stabilization and forward propulsion, reducing overall strain on the main systems."

Ruby stared.

Weiss stared harder.

Blake, standing to the side, watched with quiet amusement, arms folded. "I think you broke them."

"Hold on," Weiss held up a hand, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. "A gravimetric core? That would mean this ship doesn't need traditional fuel sources, but those systems have never been integrated into practical aerospace technology. How did you—"

"HOW FAST CAN IT GO?!" Ruby practically shrieked, bouncing in place.

Jaune considered for a moment. "At peak efficiency, it can maintain Mach 30 in atmosphere. Faster in low gravity."

Ruby gasped.

"Mach 30? That's—that's insane!"

Weiss, still trying to comprehend reality, ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Jaune, that level of speed should require massive stabilization technology, not to mention heat displacement systems to counteract friction at those speeds. How does this ship not burn up at max acceleration?!"

Jaune gestured to the sleek hull of the Tempest, completely unruffled by their borderline hysterical enthusiasm.

"The exterior plating is a hybrid alloy, mixed with an energy-conductive material that diffuses excess heat and redirects it along the hull. Essentially, the ship doesn't burn up because the friction is continuously cycled and converted into secondary power, increasing efficiency during high-speed maneuvers."

Weiss stared at him, slack-jawed.

"You… you invented an energy-recycling heat displacement system?"

Jaune nodded simply.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Weiss threw up her hands. "Jaune, do you have any idea what that kind of technology could do for the aerospace industry?! You—you just casually reinvented an entirely new form of propulsion?!"

Jaune blinked. "Yes?"

"You absolute menace!" Weiss pointed aggressively at him. "This is beyond anything even Atlas has!"

Ruby, meanwhile, was still physically vibrating, her hands hovering near the ship as if she was physically restraining herself from touching it.

"You have to let me fly it," she pleaded.

Jaune gave her a look.

"You don't even know how to fly."

"I'll LEARN!"

Yang, watching the two of them spiral into aircraft-related madness, smirked. "This is the most I've ever seen Weiss and Ruby agree on anything."

"Jaune Arc," Weiss said, dead serious, "I need you to understand something very clearly."

Jaune raised an eyebrow.

"If you don't tell me every single detail about how you built this ship, I will personally revoke your right to breathe the same air as me."

Jaune exhaled slowly.

"You're both going to keep asking me questions the entire trip, aren't you?"

"YES!" Ruby and Weiss shouted at the same time.

Blake chuckled softly. "You brought this on yourself, Jaune."

Jaune closed his eyes for a brief moment before sighing again.

"Fine," he muttered, "I'll explain once we're in the air."

Ruby fist-pumped aggressively. "YES!"

Weiss looked genuinely victorious, arms crossed with a pleased smirk.

Yang laughed, shaking her head. "Jaune, I gotta be honest with you—every time I think I've figured you out, you just… don't stop surprising me."

Jaune glanced at her, but there was no smugness in his expression, no arrogance. Just calm acceptance.

"I never needed to be noticed," he said simply. "I just needed it to work."

The words settled over them, and for a moment, despite the excitement, there was a sense of deep understanding.

Jaune Arc had never boasted.

Had never bragged.

Had never tried to make anyone realize what he was capable of.

He had simply done it.

And now, standing in front of his greatest creation, the truth was undeniable.

Jaune Arc was so much more than they had ever realized.

And the Tempest?

It was proof of that.

The Tempest loomed before them, sleek and unlike anything the world had ever seen. Its dark metallic plating, its streamlined body, and its cutting-edge technology made it stand out like a ship belonging to an entirely different era.

The team was still in disbelief, still struggling to process the sheer impossibility of its existence.

Ruby and Weiss had been bombarding Jaune with questions, their voices overlapping as they tried to understand the science behind it.

Yang was still coming to terms with reality, while Nora was giddy beyond words, practically vibrating with excitement.

But before any more chaos could unfold, the hangar doors slid open once again.

The sound of heels clicking against the metal flooring cut through the excitement like a blade.

Professor Glynda Goodwitch had arrived.

And she was not alone.

Professor Ozpin walked beside her, his ever-present cane tapping softly against the ground.

The moment Glynda's eyes landed on the Tempest, she froze mid-step.

For a long moment, she simply stared, her usual composed expression giving way to genuine shock.

Her gaze traced over the aircraft's impossibly sleek structure, its advanced thrusters, its unparalleled engineering.

And then—

Her head snapped toward Ozpin.

Her sharp, piercing glare made the normally unshakable headmaster shift uncomfortably.

"You knew about this," she said, her tone flat, accusing, and absolutely certain.

Ozpin chuckled nervously, adjusting his grip on his cane. "Well, I—"

"You. Knew. About. This," she repeated, her glare intensifying.

Ozpin cleared his throat, glancing toward Jaune, who wasn't going to help him out of this mess.

"Ah, well," he started, forcing a small, sheepish smile. "Now that we're all here, I should inform you that General Ironwood has been made aware of your impending arrival. He will have supplies and resources ready when you land in Mantle."

Glynda did not stop glaring at him.

But after a moment, she exhaled through her nose and turned away, much to Ozpin's visible relief.

Then, she looked at the team—at the eight students standing in front of one of the most dangerous missions of their lives.

Her expression softened, her normally strict tone losing its usual edge.

"I wish you didn't have to go on this mission," she admitted, her voice genuine, carrying the weight of responsibility and concern. "But we have no one else who can do this. You are the only ones who can go in and come back."

The team stood silent, absorbing her words.

"I won't tell you to be careful," she continued, her green eyes sweeping across each of them, lingering just a moment longer on Jaune, as if trying to memorize their faces before they left. "I know you will be. I know you understand the risks. But… stay safe on this journey."

The sincerity in her tone settled into their bones, the unspoken gravity of their mission hanging over them like a stormcloud.

Jaune nodded once, his gaze steady. "We will."

Glynda exhaled softly, stepping back to stand beside Ozpin.

Ozpin, now freed from her glare of silent judgment, let out a small chuckle, though it held a note of quiet seriousness beneath it.

"Then I suppose it's time," he said, glancing toward the Tempest.

Jaune took a final look at his team, at the people who had chosen to stand beside him despite their fears, and then turned toward his ship.

Without another word, he took the first steps up the ramp and into the unknown.

The ramp hissed open, releasing a faint puff of pressurized air as Jaune led them inside.

The team followed, stepping cautiously onto the ship as if they had just crossed into another world.

The interior wasn't like any airship they had ever seen.

It wasn't designed like an Atlesian military craft, nor did it have the heavy industrial bulkiness of a Valean transport.

Everything was sleek, refined, and highly advanced—a personal masterpiece crafted by Jaune's own hands.

They stepped into the landing bay, the first section of the ship, where the ramp led directly into a large cargo hold. The space was clean and efficient, with reinforced plating on the floors and walls, subtle lighting lining the ceiling, and secured storage compartments along the sides.

It wasn't just a cargo hold—it was a launch bay, designed with enough space to store a small vehicle, weapons, or supplies.

"Okay," Yang muttered, crossing her arms. "This is already way bigger than I thought it was gonna be."

Ruby's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked around, already searching for hidden compartments, tech, and whatever else Jaune had installed.

Jaune, unfazed by their reactions, walked toward the center of the landing bay and motioned toward a cylindrical lift built into the wall. The lift doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a smooth, polished interior with no visible buttons—a smart lift system that operated automatically based on the user's intent.

The team hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.

As soon as the last person entered, the doors sealed shut, and the lift hummed to life, smoothly rising to the next level.

When the doors opened, they stepped out into the engineering bay.

The moment they stepped in, they felt it.

The air here was different—charged with raw energy, humming faintly as if the ship itself was alive.

The engineering bay wasn't large, but it didn't need to be.

It was compact, built around the heart of the ship—a glowing reactor core, safely enclosed in a reinforced housing unit with smooth, curved plating designed to handle immense levels of energy output.

Holographic interfaces hovered along the walls, displaying live diagnostics, system health reports, and energy distribution readings.

Ruby and Weiss froze mid-step, their eyes locked onto the core as their brains tried to comprehend what they were seeing.

"This is… not a normal reactor," Weiss whispered.

Jaune nodded. "It's an integrated gravimetric core, designed to provide both propulsion and auxiliary power storage. It cycles excess energy through the ship's systems, reducing energy waste to almost zero."

Weiss turned toward him, eyes sharp with disbelief. "Jaune, this kind of technology is mostly theoretical! You're saying you actually made it work?!"

Jaune simply nodded.

"Of course he did," Blake muttered under her breath, arms crossed.

Weiss stared at Jaune for a long moment, then turned back to the reactor. "I'm going to have an existential crisisbefore this trip is over."

Jaune ignored that and led them toward a doorway directly across from the engineering bay.

The doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit chamber with a massive holographic projector built into the center of the room.

The moment Jaune stepped inside, the system activated, and a massive, detailed holographic map of Remnant materialized in midair.

It was crisp, detailed, alive with movement—topographical data constantly shifting, marking major cities, active trade routes, Grimm migration patterns, and even military installations.

The team stepped inside, their eyes immediately drawn to the massive display.

"Okay, what is this?!" Yang demanded, staring at the massive, interactive map.

"A navigational interface," Jaune said. "It compiles live communications data, environmental scans, and CCT network information to provide an up-to-date global readout."

Weiss's head whipped around to look at him. "You're saying this thing is pulling from real-time data? From the CCT network?"

Jaune nodded.

Ruby spun toward him, genuinely overwhelmed. "Jaune, this isn't normal! This isn't even possible!"

Jaune, already walking toward the stairs leading up to the next section, spoke without looking back. "It is when you make it work."

As they climbed the short flight of stairs leading up, they entered what could only be described as a command center.

The room was surrounded by reinforced windows, giving a clear view of the Tempest's upper hull, as well as a full overhead display of the ship's exterior.

There was a long table in the center, outfitted with built-in holoscreens, tactical readouts, and a fully integrated communication terminal.

Jaune walked over and tapped a control on the table. The screen flashed to life, displaying a direct connection to the CCT network's long-range comm systems.

"You can make calls anywhere in Remnant from here," Jaune said. "It bypasses local infrastructure using a direct relay interface."

The team stared at him.

"Jaune," Weiss started, voice strained, "do you understand that this means your personal ship has long-range communication capabilities equal to Atlas' classified warships?"

Jaune nodded. "Yes."

Yang leaned against the table, rubbing her temples. "You're just casually telling us this like it's a normal thing."

Jaune glanced at her. "It's a useful feature."

"A useful feature," Weiss repeated flatly.

Ruby let out a high-pitched noise of excitement, practically bouncing. "Jaune, this is so cool! You're basically flying around in a super-secret command ship!"

Jaune said nothing, but the smallest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes before he turned toward another section of the ship.

He led them down back to the main level, toward two rooms adjacent to the holo-projector room.

The first was the medical bay—fully stocked with a high-end medical station, advanced diagnostics, and treatment pods capable of stabilizing injuries.

The second was the armory, which doubled as a sleeping quarters for additional crew. It had built-in weapon storage, maintenance workstations, and reinforced bunk beds.

Nora immediately ran inside, spinning in place. "Oh, this is awesome. It's like a bunker inside a airship!"

"That's the idea," Jaune said.

Jaune led them away from the armory and medical bay, past the holo-projector room, and onto a narrow bridge.

Beneath them, five additional rooms were spaced evenly across the lower level of the ship, seamlessly integrated into the Tempest's clean, futuristic design.

The moment they descended, the team immediately noticed the layout.

It was efficient. Purposeful.

Each section was built for functionality, but there was no sense of cramped military restriction—everything had a flow, a design built for long-term use rather than just quick deployment.

Jaune stopped before the first set of doors.

"There are five main quarters down here," he explained. "Two heading backward from this point, two toward the front sides, and one directly ahead."

He gestured to the four identical doors first.

"These are the crew quarters. Each one is fitted with built-in bunk beds, storage compartments, and reinforced designs for safety and efficiency."

Yang pushed open the nearest door, stepping inside—then paused.

The interior was compact but incredibly well-thought-out.

The walls were lined with clean, recessed lighting, providing just enough warmth without being overbearing.

Each bunk was built into the structure, maximizing floor space while ensuring comfort and security.

Personal lockers were fitted into the walls beside the beds, minimizing clutter.

A small, fold-out work desk was mounted opposite the bunks, allowing space for writing, working, or reading.

The ventilation and soundproofing were subtly integrated, ensuring that each room remained quiet and breathable despite the ship's size.

Yang let out a low whistle.

"Okay, I was expecting… I don't know, military bunks shoved into a metal box, but this is actually nice."

Weiss stepped in behind her, running a hand along the smooth metal paneling. "Everything has a place," she noted. "There's no wasted space, but it doesn't feel claustrophobic either."

Ruby flopped onto one of the bunks immediately, grinning. "Oooooh, it's so soft!"

Ren nodded, examining the functionality. "The insulation is excellent. This is built for long-term use."

Blake crossed her arms, taking it all in. "This isn't just a temporary setup. You designed this ship for sustained missions."

Jaune nodded. "It had to be efficient. Comfort is just as important as function on long deployments."

Yang grinned. "And I'm guessing these rooms are flexible? Meaning we can choose our own sleeping arrangements?"

Jaune gave a slight nod. "Yes. Each room is designed to house up to four people. Choose as you see fit."

A brief moment of silent consideration passed between the team.

It was obvious that they would divide into their usual teams, but the realization that they were officially traveling together in a single vessel made it feel more real.

Nora spun in place. "I CALL A ROOM WITH REN!"

Ren sighed but didn't argue.

Pyrrha smiled softly. "I suppose that means I'll be with Weiss and Blake?"

Blake nodded. "That works for me."

Yang stretched. "Guess that leaves me, Ruby, and Jaune—"

Jaune had already walked toward the final door.

The one that stood directly ahead.

"That one's mine," he said plainly.

The door hissed open, revealing a room vastly different from the others.

The moment they stepped inside, the team felt the shift.

Jaune's room was minimal, but there was something almost calculated about how personal it felt.

The bed was simple, built into the far wall, its design clean, compact, yet undeniably comfortable.

A personal workstation sat nearby, equipped with high-end processing systems, multiple displays, and finely-tuned interfaces.

Against one wall stood a bookshelf, lined with various texts on engineering, strategy, medicine, and advanced technology—each one carefully arranged.

A small collection of personal items was subtly placed in a secure compartment—nothing excessive, but things that clearly held meaning.

"Your room is… shockingly simple," Weiss murmured, glancing around.

"Efficient," Blake corrected, eyeing the workstation and bookshelves. "Everything here has a purpose."

Ruby leaned toward his desk, staring at the displays. "Is this where you monitor all the ship's systems?"

Jaune nodded. "Diagnostics, navigation readouts, internal power flow, and environmental controls. Everything runs through here."

Ren tilted his head. "It's more like a command hub than a personal room."

Jaune shrugged slightly. "It serves its purpose."

The room reflected everything Jaune was—practical, disciplined, always thinking ahead.

There was no excess, no unnecessary distractions.

But at the same time, it wasn't lifeless.

It was his space.

Yang, standing near the personal shelves, raised an eyebrow. "You really don't like decorating, huh?"

Jaune glanced at her, then looked back at his precisely arranged books and tools. "It's not necessary."

Yang chuckled. "Yeah, this is definitely you."

Ruby, still looking at the workstation, tapped one of the holo-displays. "You really designed this whole thing from scratch?"

Jaune nodded. "Yes."

Weiss sighed heavily, running a hand down her face. "I'm going to need so much more information before this mission is over."

Jaune simply turned toward the main corridor.

"Let's continue."

The hiss of the reinforced doors sliding open echoed through the corridor as Jaune led them onto the bridge of the Tempest.

And for the first time since stepping onto the ship, the team was silent.

The space before them wasn't just a cockpit, nor was it anything like the military command centers they had seen in Atlesian warships. It was something more—something designed not just for efficiency but for absolute control over the vessel.

The sleek design of the bridge stretched forward, the floor smooth and polished, embedded with subtle streams of flowing light that pulsed softly, like the ship itself was breathing. The walls were lined with thin conduits of energy, feeding directly into the core systems. But it was the front of the bridge that took their breath away—a massive panoramic viewport spanning nearly the entire wall, providing an unobstructed view of the outside world.

Jaune moved forward without hesitation, stepping toward the central console, a command station built directly into the heart of the ship. With a flick of his fingers across the controls, the bridge came to life.

The moment the systems activated, the Tempest hummed, screens illuminating around them, showing detailed real-time information on their surroundings, ship diagnostics, flight path calculations, and atmospheric conditions. The overhead displays flickered with a complete navigational interface, showcasing a live feed of Remnant's terrain, marked by topographical lines, active weather patterns, and projected flight routes.

Jaune turned to see their faces.

They weren't just in awe—they were struggling to comprehend what they were looking at.

Ruby's hands were clamped over her mouth, eyes stretched impossibly wide, her entire body shaking as she tried to process what was happening.

"This…" Weiss finally managed to whisper, stepping forward in a daze, her hands twitching as if she wanted to touch the controls but didn't dare. "This isn't… possible."

Jaune said nothing, waiting for them to take it all in.

"It's too smooth," she continued, her voice straining to understand. "There are no traditional buttons, no clunky mechanical inputs—everything is seamless. This—this flows—it reacts instantly. The energy distribution alone should require a network of complex subsystems, but you've somehow… condensed it into a single synchronized interface."

She turned sharply to Jaune, her blue eyes burning with disbelief. "Jaune, this level of technology isn't just theoretical—it shouldn't even be feasible yet! How—how did you do this?!"

Jaune met her gaze, his expression calm as ever. "I made it work."

Weiss looked like she was about to scream. "That's not an answer!"

Before she could launch into a full meltdown, Ruby finally found her voice.

"JAUNE," she screamed, her hands flailing wildly as she pointed at everything. "JAUNE. JAUNE. WHAT. THE. HELL. IS. THIS?!"

She spun in place, her silver eyes bouncing between the screens, the controls, the entire ship around them. "HOW DOES THIS WORK?! HOW DOES ANY OF THIS WORK?! THIS LOOKS LIKE IT BELONGS IN A SCIENCE FICTION MOVIE, NOT IN A REAL AIRSHIP!"

Jaune sighed, but before he could calm her down, Weiss grabbed his sleeve, yanking him closer.

"Answer her!" she snapped, her voice borderline frantic. "Answer me! What is this ship?! How did you create an entire fully automated, self-sustaining navigation system without needing a crew?! How are these interfaces so fast?! How is this ship even stable at high speeds?! You—this—none of this should be real!"

Jaune slowly turned his head to look at her.

"Weiss," he said evenly. "Breathe."

Weiss let out a sharp breath, still gripping his sleeve, before finally stepping back, inhaling through her nose in an effort to steady herself.

Jaune turned back toward the main console, pressing a few more keys as the ship's diagnostics flashed across the screens. He gestured toward the center panel, showing them the core navigational interface—a real-time, interactive holographic projection of Remnant. Every active flight path, weather anomaly, and terrain shift was mapped in excruciating detail.

Ruby stared at the projection, her brain melting as she pointed at it. "You're telling me this ship is pulling live data?!"

Jaune nodded. "It runs on a quantum mapping system, utilizing a combination of CCT relays and atmospheric telemetry scans to update flight paths in real-time."

Weiss looked seconds away from passing out. "Jaune, that level of technology is decades ahead of what's available! Where—how did you even design something like this?"

Jaune shrugged. "It wasn't that difficult."

Weiss grabbed her own face, dragging her hands down in frustration. "I hate you."

Jaune ignored her, moving toward the left console. He tapped a control, and the display shifted, revealing a detailed sensor grid showing their surroundings, temperature readings, gravitational pull, and even the density of the atmosphere outside.

"This is the sensor and diagnostics station," Jaune explained. "It tracks ship functions, environmental conditions, potential threats, and hull integrity."

Ren stepped forward, his gaze analyzing the readouts with practiced precision. "How detailed is the scan resolution?"

Jaune adjusted the settings. The display zoomed in, revealing a wireframe model of the Tempest, highlighting various heat signatures, pressure levels, and energy flow across the ship's conduits.

"Within point-zero-two percent deviation," Jaune answered.

Ren blinked, clearly impressed. "That's… remarkable."

Jaune moved toward the right console, where the manual piloting controls were housed.

Yang whistled low, running her fingers along the smooth paneling. "And this is where the magic happens, huh?"

Jaune nodded. "This is the manual piloting station. The Tempest can autonomously navigate flight paths, but this allows for direct control when necessary."

Yang leaned in. "How's the maneuverability?"

Jaune's gaze flicked to her, his expression unreadable. "The inertial dampeners are custom-calibrated, and the ship runs on a modified gravimetric stabilizer."

Yang blinked. "Uh… in English?"

Jaune sighed. "It moves exactly where I want it to, instantly, with no delay."

Yang stared at him. "That's a hell of a claim."

"It's not a claim," Jaune replied evenly. "It's a fact."

The room fell silent again.

And this time, it wasn't just awe.

It was understanding.

Jaune Arc hadn't just built a ship.

He had redefined aerospace engineering in a way that shouldn't have been possible.

He had taken theoretical concepts and turned them into working systems.

He had built something that even Atlas didn't have.

And he had done it without anyone realizing it.

Yang let out a slow breath, shaking her head. "Jaune, every time I think I've got you figured out, you do something that makes me question everything I know."

Jaune simply shrugged. "I never needed to stand out."

Weiss turned to him, still shaken, but there was something else in her expression now.

Respect.

"You're not just good at this," she admitted quietly. "You're… a genius."

Jaune turned back to the console, bringing the ship's systems to full readiness.

"Let's just get going," he said.

And with that, the Tempest prepared for launch.

Jaune's hands moved across the central holographic terminal, his fingers tapping a sequence of controls with effortless precision.

The ship's primary interface pulsed to life, a crisp blue light radiating outward from the center console as data feeds flickered across the screens. The surrounding displays shifted, aligning flight paths, atmospheric conditions, and clearance permissions in real time.

Then, with a final press of a button, Jaune's voice cut through the soft hum of the ship's systems.

"Headmaster Ozpin, this is Jaune Arc aboard the Tempest. Requesting permission to exit the hangar and take off."

The team snapped toward him, some with shock, others with outright panic.

"Wait—WAIT," Weiss blurted out, her hands flying up as she whirled around to look for a seat. "Are we supposed to sit down or strap in or something?!"

Jaune didn't even glance at her. "No need."

"No need?!" Weiss's voice climbed an octave higher.

Jaune tapped another control, and the ship's status display flickered, bringing up a full wireframe model of the Tempest. "The four secondary thrusters located under the front and sides of the landing bay engage at a controlled power output, creating a stabilized lift vector, which compensates for weight distribution and inertia. This prevents abrupt force differentials, meaning—"

"Jaune," Yang interrupted, hands on her hips. "English."

Jaune sighed. "You won't feel a thing."

Weiss dragged her hands down her face. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"Because that's not how it works," Jaune answered flatly.

Before Weiss could start throwing things, Ozpin's calm voice came through the ship's communication channel.

"Permission granted, Mr. Arc. Airspace is cleared for your departure."

There was no ETA mentioned. No questioning. Just pure acknowledgment—as if Ozpin already expected Jaune to do the impossible.

Jaune simply nodded to himself, eyes flicking to the screens as he began the launch sequence.

His hands moved with certainty, clicking through a series of pre-flight calibrations with swift efficiency.

The ship responded instantly.

The soft hum of the engines deepened, but there was no sudden jolt, no violent shaking—only an impossibly smooth transition as the Tempest began to rise.

Blake's eyes widened, her ears twitching at the absolute lack of noise or turbulence. "It's actually… floating."

"It's not just floating," Ren muttered, watching the readings on one of the nearby screens. "It's hovering with perfect balance."

Nora grabbed onto Ruby's shoulders. "We're—WE'RE JUST—"

"WE'RE JUST FLOATING!" Ruby screamed, shaking Nora as if that would somehow make it more understandable.

Jaune remained unbothered, his focus entirely on maneuvering the ship out of the hangar.

The Tempest drifted backward, the thrusters adjusting seamlessly, ensuring that not a single vibration reached them. The massive hangar doors framed the ship as it eased out into the open night sky.

Then, with an almost effortless grace, the Tempest turned.

Beacon Academy came into full view.

The towering spires, the familiar courtyard, the training grounds—all of it stretched beneath them, the academy bathed in soft moonlight.

No roaring engines. No loud thruster burn.

The ship simply moved—a silent predator against the endless sky.

Yang stared at the viewport, crossing her arms. "I gotta admit… this is kinda badass."

Weiss, meanwhile, had her arms tightly crossed over her chest, her fingers digging into her sleeves as she struggled to process the insanity unfolding before her.

Jaune's voice broke the momentary silence.

"Get ready for acceleration."

The entire team froze.

Weiss snapped toward him. "Excuse me?!"

Jaune didn't respond. He simply reached for the central console, inputting the coordinates Ozpin had provided.

The holographic map of Remnant expanded instantly, pinpointing Mantle with a precise, pulsating marker.

Destination confirmed.

Jaune exhaled and locked in the trajectory.

Then, with the slightest movement, he engaged the main thrusters.

The ship surged forward.

The first thing they noticed was the speed.

The Tempest didn't lurch, didn't jolt, didn't even rumble—it simply moved, its acceleration instant and seamless, the outside world blurring past them faster than anything they had ever experienced.

Then—

Ruby let out an ear-piercing shriek.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH—"

Nora immediately joined in.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Yang, meanwhile, was gripping the edge of the nearest console, her eyes wide as the ground fell away beneath them. "We're—we're already this high up?! How?!"

Blake's ears flattened against her head, her fingers curling into fists. "We're breaking through the atmosphere at a ridiculous rate."

Jaune's eyes remained focused, his hands barely touching the controls as the ship's internal automation system adjusted the angle of ascent, balancing their trajectory with impossible precision.

Weiss had gone completely pale, her fingers twitching as she forced herself to look at the display screen. "This should not be possible," she hissed, desperation creeping into her voice. "Airships don't—don't move like this! Even Atlesian carriers don't accelerate this fast!"

Jaune finally looked at her. "A standard airship would take about two days to reach Mantle from here."

Weiss snapped toward him, her expression tight with apprehension. "Yes! Exactly! And at this rate, how long—"

Jaune tapped the display screen as the ETA appeared on the interface in bold letters.

Estimated Time of Arrival: 55 Minutes.

The moment the number registered, Weiss completely lost it.

"WHAT?!"

Ren stared at the display, his usual calm demeanor cracking. "That's… that's almost 50 times faster than a normal airship."

Yang let out a long, low whistle, shaking her head. "So what you're telling me, Jaune… is that we're flying a ship that can casually outrun anything in the sky."

Jaune nodded once. "Yes."

"That's not normal, Jaune!" Weiss snapped, gesturing wildly at the screens. "That's not even remotely normal!"

"It's efficient," Jaune replied smoothly.

Weiss turned red with frustration, her arms flailing. "Efficient?! Efficient?! Jaune, we're going to Mantle in less time than it takes to finish a decent dinner! This isn't 'efficient,' this is breaking every law of aviation known to mankind!"

Jaune, completely unfazed, continued adjusting minor trajectory inputs, his voice calm as ever. "It's designed to maximize fuel economy while maintaining optimal thrust. The flight pattern is stabilized to reduce resistance, which minimizes drag, allowing for—"

Weiss grabbed her head in pure exasperation. "STOP IT!"

Ruby, meanwhile, was still screaming, though it had shifted from terror to sheer excitement.

"THIS IS THE GREATEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE!"

Blake exhaled, rubbing her temples. "I don't even know what's real anymore."

Yang sat back in her seat, grinning. "I mean… we could be in a slow, loud, bumpy airship right now."

Weiss groaned. "At least that would make sense!"

Jaune clicked the final sequence, confirming their entry into high-altitude cruising speed.

The Tempest soared forward, cutting through the upper atmosphere, unmatched and unchallenged.

Jaune leaned back in his seat, glancing at his team.

"Welcome aboard," he said simply.

The team stared at him.

None of them had any words.

Jaune Arc had just rewritten the rules of aviation, and he wasn't even bragging about it.

This was going to be one hell of a flight.