The night air was thick with tension, the dim glow of the village streetlights flickering against the crumbling walls of a warehouse near the village outskirts. The village had long since fallen silent, leaving only the sound of distant waves crashing against the docks.
Half-hidden in the shadows of a ruined storefront, Weiss Schnee checked her Scroll, her blue eyes scanning the screen before giving a curt nod.
"Get ready," she whispered.
Jaune inhaled slowly, his golden aura flaring around him, a deep crimson tint curling at its edges. The moment his aura surged, he lowered the visor of his bascinet, the metal gleaming faintly under the weak light.
Then, without hesitation, he charged.
His shielded fist slammed into the concrete wall, sending cracks spider-webbing outward before the entire section collapsed inward, revealing a group of White Fang-wearing thugs standing in shock.
"HUNTSMEN!" one of them shouted, scrambling for his weapon.
Within seconds, DUST-rounds lit up the darkness, streaking toward him from all directions. The bullets pelted against his armor, sparking on impact, but Jaune did not falter. His aura pulsed, absorbing the rounds as if they were nothing more than raindrops against steel.
He took another step forward, his voice calm yet commanding. "Surrender. Lay down your arms."
The White Fang thugs snarled, their grips tightening on their weapons.
"Human scum!" one spat.
Jaune exhaled through his nose, then shook his head. Before they could react, he stepped forward and slammed the flat of his blade against the closest enemy's temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.
"This is an official arrest," he stated, his tone unwavering. "Under the Article of the Huntsman Authority Act, any resistance will be met with force."
"Shut up!" one of the White Fang members barked, raising his weapon.
Jaune moved first.
His aura shifted, the golden hue turning blue as he struck. His palm shot forward, smacking one enemy hard enough to knock him unconscious before he could fire a shot. Another thug leveled an RPG in his direction.
Jaune saw it coming.
He turned, raising his shield just as the projectile exploded against it. Flames and shrapnel erupted around him, but when the smoke cleared, Jaune was still standing.
And he was unharmed.
With a burst of speed, he lunged forward, delivering a devastating lariat to the RPG-wielder. The man hit the ground with a heavy thud, his body going limp.
Another attacker charged from the side. Jaune responded instantly — he stomped down hard on the discarded RPG launcher, cracking it in half, before slamming his shield into the attacker's face, sending him spinning backward.
He moved like a blur, his armor glinting in the dim light as he tore through the remaining fighters.
An RPG round whistled toward him again.
Jaune adjusted. Instead of blocking it, he cut through the projectile mid-air, slicing it clean in half. The explosion barely had time to register before he was already moving, weaving through the gunfire like a force of nature.
His armor and aura worked in tandem, absorbing the brunt of each impact. A Huntsman's weapon was an extension of their aura — a conduit of power that could amplify their strength. Right now, Jaune's body was like an impenetrable fortress, every bullet that struck him feeling like nothing more than rain against steel.
He slammed an armored fist into another enemy's stomach, sending him flying backward. Without missing a beat, Jaune surged forward, bursting through a wall as if it were made of paper.
He crashed into another group of White Fang members, tripping one, then driving the pommel of Crocea Mors into his face before he could react.
A surge of aura caught Jaune's attention.
One of the White Fang fighters had activated his own aura, charging toward Jaune with reckless abandon.
Jaune moved.
Faster than the enemy could react, Jaune's armored fist collided with his jaw. The White Fang member staggered, his aura shattering on impact. Before he could recover, Jaune grabbed his wrist, swung him into the wall, then into the ceiling, before bringing his knee hard into his stomach.
The fight was over before it even began.
Jaune continued forward, bursting through another wall until he finally reached the leader — a White Fang commander standing near a cache of explosives.
The leader barely had time to react before Jaune grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air before slamming him down into the concrete floor with enough force to crack it.
Aura flickered around the commander as he struggled, but Jaune didn't let up.
SLAM.
He lifted the man again and drove him into the ground, breaking his aura completely. Another impact knocked him unconscious.
More White Fang emerged from the shadows, their weapons raised, but Jaune simply turned to face them, his presence unshaken.
"Don't you ever learn?" he muttered.
Summoning the last of his patience, he infused his aura into his armor, drawing a vast amount of aura to himself. The golden light pulsed and then erupted outward in a shockwave, sending every remaining White Fang operative flying backward.
Some hit walls. Others crashed onto the cold pavement. All of them groaned in pain.
Jaune took a slow step forward. His voice, though calm, left no room for debate.
"Surrender," he said again. "You cannot win."
But instead of complying, one of the remaining White Fang members pulled out a small vial filled with a black liquid.
Jaune's eyes narrowed.
The man injected himself.
Within seconds, his body twisted, his veins turning black as an unearthly howl escaped his lips. His fingers sharpened into claws, his skin shifting and hardening, his pupils dilating unnaturally.
It was happening.
He was Grimmifying.
Jaune didn't hesitate.
Before the transformation could complete, Crocea Mors flashed in the dim light.
A single, aura-infused upward cleave tore through the White Fang member's body, slicing him cleanly apart before he could fully turn.
The remaining enemies froze, their faces pale.
Jaune exhaled, lowering his blade.
This time, he positioned his sword differently, not as a blunt instrument, but as a bladed weapon.
His voice, colder than before, echoed in the silence.
"Surrender," he warned, his stance unwavering. "Or you will face lethal force."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then, one by one, the White Fang members dropped their weapons, raising their hands in surrender.
Jaune nodded, his aura settling around him once more.
The cold night air carried the scent of smoke, dust, and faint traces of blood. The flashing blue and red lights of police vehicles cast eerie reflections against the shattered walls and debris-strewn streets.
Jaune stood near the wreckage of the now-collapsed building, his visored bascinet tucked under his arm, golden aura still faintly flickering around him as the last remnants of his adrenaline began to fade. He watched in silence as Valean police officers loaded the unconscious and subdued White Fang members into armored transport carriers.
Some of the captured militants groaned in pain, their broken weapons discarded nearby. Others sat in silence, staring blankly at the ground, shaken — not just from the fight, but from what had happened to one of their own.
A few feet away, Weiss Schnee stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid. Her sharp blue eyes were locked onto the crates of confiscated weapons and vials of the strange black serum they had recovered. Even in the dim light, Jaune could see the tight set of her jaw, the way her fingers tapped against her arm, a sure sign that something was weighing heavily on her mind.
"This is different," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Jaune turned toward her. "You mean the serum?"
Weiss nodded, not taking her eyes off the vials. The police officers were handling them carefully, as if the liquid inside might lash out at any moment. "Before, we had Hounds — Merlot turned the Faunus by using a procedure. It was a process, deliberate and cruel." Her eyes darkened. "But this? They don't need to be captured, experimented on, or forcibly changed. They just… inject this into themselves, and the transformation happens immediately."
Jaune exhaled slowly. "It's the same outcome, though." His fingers tightened around his helmet. "They're still turning into monsters."
Weiss shook her head. "That's what makes it worse, darling."
Jaune frowned. "How?"
Weiss turned to face him fully, her expression grim. "Because now, it's their choice."
Jaune's breath hitched slightly. He hadn't thought about it like that.
Every other time they had encountered something like this, it was people being forced into becoming Grimm. The Hounds were victims, twisted into something inhuman because they didn't want to turn against their people. But now? Now it wasn't forced.
It was voluntary.
Jaune felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"If this serum spreads," Weiss continued, her voice tense, "it won't just be the White Fang using it."
Jaune immediately followed her train of thought, his mind running through worst-case scenarios. "Desperate people. Mercenaries. War criminals. Anyone looking for an edge." He gritted his teeth. "Even Huntsmen who think they can 'control' it."
Weiss's eyes narrowed. "And if that happens, we'll be fighting an enemy that doesn't care about losing their humanity."
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders tensing. The idea was horrifying. The Grimm had always been soulless creatures of destruction. That was their nature. But people? People were unpredictable.
He looked over at the White Fang prisoners again.
Many of them looked shaken, some refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Jaune knew what they were thinking. Their entire fight had been built on their belief that they were still people, that their cause, however extreme, was one worth fighting for.
But tonight, they had seen one of their own turn into a thing before being cut down like a rabid animal.
Their cause hadn't prepared them for that. Because they wouldn't be shaken like this if they knew… they were fresh recruits.
"Even after two years... the White Fang's still getting recruits."
"Yeah, but it can't be helped," Weiss let out a frustrated sigh. "Still... this is bigger than just another White Fang faction."
Jaune nodded grimly. "We need to find out where this serum is coming from. Who made it. Who's distributing it." He exhaled. "And how many people already have it."
Weiss tapped her fingers against her arm again. "If we don't stop this soon, we won't just be fighting Grimm." Her voice lowered. "We'll be fighting people who want to become them."
That thought made Jaune's stomach turn.
A sudden gust of wind kicked up dust and ash from the building, swirling it through the ruined streets. In the distance, the last of the captured White Fang members were being loaded into the armored police transport, their hands bound, their heads lowered.
A small crowd had gathered at the edge of the community — villagers and workers who had stayed hidden when the fighting began. They now stood in silence, watching as the police airships prepared for takeoff.
Jaune met their gazes, noting the mix of emotions on their faces. Fear. Relief. But most of all — uncertainty.
Jaune turned back to Weiss. "We need to report this to Ozpin."
Weiss nodded. "Agreed." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And Ironwood."
Jaune frowned slightly. "You sure about that?"
Weiss met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "We need all the help we can get. This isn't just about Vale."
Jaune sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. You're right."
The police airships roared to life, the engines sending gusts of wind through the streets.
"Let's go, we're already late. I'm sure Ruby and the others will start to worry," Weiss said as she walked away.
The captured White Fang members sat still inside the transport, some staring blankly at the floor, others with expressions of quiet anger.
Jaune watched them for a moment longer before shaking his head.