Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The night breeze of Vale was exactly how I remembered it: filled with the aroma of food stalls that still resisted closing even at that hour. The old streetlights cast a golden glow over the clean stone streets, reflecting off shop windows and the stained glass of older buildings, as if the city itself were awake, quietly watching the night pass.

Walking through Vale at night had something special compared to walking during the day. The city felt different, as if those who belonged to the late hours revealed the true face of the place. It was almost nostalgic. Whenever I came here, it felt like visiting an old friend who never changed no matter how much time passed. At the same time, Vale was constantly changing, whether due to new constructions or various other details.

In fact, now that I think about it, it's a rather strange thought, but I didn't pay it much mind.

I was walking through Vale with no particular destination, simply enjoying the familiar sights a bit. I had no specific reason to be here. I wasn't running away from home, nor was I chasing some grand adventure. I just wanted to spend some time alone without much commotion.

At home, that was harder than it sounded.

Being the only son in a family of seven sisters was a greater challenge than any Grimm anyone could face. It's not that I didn't like my sisters and parents—I did, of course. But all that excessive affection was suffocating. Their love was the kind that squeezed you so tightly it felt like it might crush you. My sisters were the main culprits behind that.

Although Vale was the place I was most familiar with and where I spent most of my time, I had also been to several other places. While Atlas and Mistral were interesting, I still preferred Vale. Vacuo was nice as well. Traveling cost money, but it wasn't really a problem for me. Of course, I always informed my family when I left home and even kept in regular contact when I wasn't around.

At first, they were very worried about me, calling me on my Scroll every few hours, but after some time they got used to it, especially as I grew older. Of all of them, my father was the one who always told me not to stay too long in places with bad people so I wouldn't be influenced by them.

Although that sounded like ordinary parental concern, it was more than that. I understood my father—I really did—but it was still a bit annoying to hear that every time I left. I knew better than anyone what was truly dangerous for me, but I still had to be a little extra careful.

As I walked, illuminated signs flickered in shades of red and blue atop the buildings. Weapon shops, restaurants, bars, street vendors. Vale was the kind of place where you could find anything, even late at night.

A tired Huntsman returning from a mission sat eating skewers from a nearby food stall. Some tourists were entering a hotel to end their day. And in the shadows of an alley, there was a pickpocket. I couldn't see anyone in that spot from where I was standing—so how did I know someone was there?

Well, the answer to that is quite simple.

[Hehe, that blonde tourist looks pretty distracted. I should be able to steal from him without him noticing. Come on, come on, get a little closer. I can smell Lien!]

The moment I passed that alley, a black-haired man bumped into me.

"Oops, sorry kid. It's hard to see in this darkness," he apologized before continuing on his way.

"No problem, no one got hurt."

[Tsk. He's sharper than he looks, but damn it. Now it's going to take some time before I bump into someone else who looks like an easy mark.]

At the moment he bumped into me, he tried to slip his hands into my pockets, but I reacted quickly and casually dodged before he could do anything. However, there was something he still hadn't realized.

"The only one who looks like an idiot here is you, idiot."

I smiled as I picked up the Lien notes while walking. He tried to rob me, but didn't even realize that the one who got robbed was him.

"What the hell!? WHERE'S MY MONEY!" A loud shout could be heard a short distance away.

"Well, I guess he noticed now."

But it didn't matter—I was already some distance away from him. This kind of thing happens more often than one might expect. I mean, there are thieves everywhere, but Vale at night is especially dangerous for tourists, as they are easy targets.

There were other thieves hiding around, but I didn't pay them much attention. It was impossible for me to be robbed or ambushed, not only because I knew Vale like the back of my hand, but because there was simply no way for that to happen. All of this because I possessed a very special talent.

[This job is killing me. The pay is bad and I barely have time for my family.]

[Where are the stupid tourists when you need them? My money is running out, damn it.]

[The Beacon Initiation exam is about to begin... I need to be prepared. I can't fail.]

I was able to hear the thoughts in other people's minds. Simply put, I was a Mind Reader—someone who could hear what others rarely dared to say out loud. Thanks to this special ability, I could avoid all kinds of annoying and complicated situations whenever I wanted.

As I walked, I looked at the most famous building in the city. Beacon Academy. Its towers stood out against the starry sky, almost as if they were trying to touch the clouds. This school was Vale's pride, attracting numerous Huntsmen from all kingdoms. Many people dreamed of studying there to become Huntsmen.

It's true that there are those who wish to become Huntsmen to face Grimm and protect the innocent. However, there are also those who seek a Huntsman License as an opportunity for future employment and profit. And there's nothing wrong with that—either way, both end up fighting Grimm and contributing to civilian safety.

I passed by a group of young people who seemed to be around my age.

"So, what do you think the Beacon Initiation will be this year?"

"Well, obviously we're going to fight Grimm, right?"

"I just hope we get to choose the team we work with. I can't imagine working for four years with someone I've never met."

"Idiot, a Huntsman must always be ready to work with new people."

They looked excited. Even their thoughts weren't much different.

There was a time when I was interested in Huntsmen, but I never had any desire to become one. I never dreamed of attending Beacon like most people. I mean, why the hell would I want to risk my life fighting monsters?

My life was fine the way it was. I had my family and my friends. My father taught me how to fish a long time ago, so from time to time we'd go fishing together. It was fun. There was also my mother, who made the best food in the world. Seriously, I've tried food from renowned restaurants, but nothing compares to hers. In addition, my sisters were entertaining in their own way.

I was happy.

Why would anyone leave all that behind just to play hero chasing monsters at the edge of the world?

Only a madman would do that. Besides, with my ability, I didn't have to worry about money. I don't mean that I stole from people—only from thieves who tried to steal from me first. And even if I didn't want to boast, I had some fame in certain parts of Vale.

A magician who brightens children's days with a deck of cards. And also the person who was banned from all of Vale's casinos for winning too much.

That second part was a little unfair. I mean, it was practically impossible for me to lose most of the games, unless I wanted to. But to ban me just because I was winning too much? That was just unfair.

I was able to read my opponents' minds, so I could gain an advantage in many games, especially poker. Most people might call that cheating, but I strongly disagree. Mind reading is part of my arsenal—one of my abilities.

Is it really cheating to use the talent that has been with me since the very beginning of my existence?

The answer is no. There's nothing wrong with it. Humans have always used everything at their disposal since the dawn of time to survive. As a human, I was simply doing the same as my ancestors.

I passed near a small square located between two busier commercial streets. Even at that hour, there were still a few lights on. It was somewhat empty due to the time, but there were still a few people passing by.

That was when I saw her.

At first glance, she didn't seem like anything special. Just another girl walking alone at night. But a slightly closer look was enough to realize she wasn't exactly ordinary.

Black hair, shoulder-length, with some red tips that almost glowed under the streetlights. She wore a red hood that concealed part of her face, but still left her silver eyes visible. Eyes uncommon enough to catch my attention.

The reason I paid attention is because I was aware of the truth behind those who bore those eyes.

The Silver-Eyed Warriors.

An ancient lineage of legendary warriors who possessed special abilities manifested through their eyes. Their power was capable of destroying Grimm and, according to legend, originated from the God of Light.

Weren't they supposed to be extinct?

As far as I knew, there shouldn't be anyone alive with those eyes anymore.

Well, I guess the world always has surprises.

The rest of her outfit followed the same pattern: black and red. A lot of black and red.

She seems to have an obsession with those two colors…

She was also wearing large headphones, the kind that practically isolate you from the entire world. She walked without a care, as if moving to her own rhythm, completely unaware of the rest of the city.

Until she stopped.

Out of nowhere.

For no apparent reason.

She simply froze in the middle of the road.

I continued observing for a few seconds. She wasn't checking her Scroll, nor did she seem to have spotted someone she knew. She just stopped all of a sudden.

Something wasn't right.

I approached slowly, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey… are you okay?"

No response.

Not even a movement.

The headphones were still on, but it wasn't just that. Her body was rigid, as if something had pulled her out of reality itself.

That's when I did what I always do.

I tried to listen.

But the moment my senses reached toward her thoughts… I froze.

There was nothing clear.

It wasn't as if there were no thoughts, but they weren't normal thoughts either.

It was like trying to hear multiple voices at once, all tangled, distorted, broken.

A chaotic noise.

My brow furrowed instinctively.

What…?

I focused more.

Forced myself a bit further.

That's when something finally came through.

[No… no… this can't be happening…]

[Did… did I die…?]

[No… this isn't… this isn't possible…]

A sudden image pierced through my mind.

Darkness.

Something enormous.

A suffocating feeling.

Death.

My hand instinctively went up to my head.

"Ugh…"

The pain followed shortly after.

It wasn't ordinary physical pain. It was as if my mind was being pulled in different directions at once, trying to process something that simply didn't make sense.

What the hell is this…?

More fragments.

[Beacon… fell…]

[No… no… I couldn't save anyone…]

[Why… why is this happening…]

My eyebrows tightened further.

Beacon fell…? What is she talking about…?

I had never heard thoughts like this before.

Not even from completely disturbed people.

It was… different.

Wrong.

She was remembering things that hadn't happened.

Another fragment came through with greater intensity.

[Weiss, Pyrrha, Yang… Penny... Blake why…]

[WHY, WHY! BLAKE, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!]

I clenched my teeth.

The pain intensified for a moment.

Then I let go of the focus.

I immediately pulled back my ability.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my mind.

...What the hell was that?

Her thoughts are distorted in such a deep way that I almost got lost trying to distinguish what I could see and hear. That was dangerous—very dangerous.

When I looked up again, she was already staring at me.

Her silver eyes widened.

As if she had seen a ghost.

"…Jaune?"

Her voice was low. Almost a whisper.

I froze for half a second.

"…Do we know each other?"

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then looked down at her own hands.

She turned them over, as if checking whether they were real.

Then she looked at her clothes.

At the surroundings.

At me.

I remained silent, observing.

She seemed lost.

Completely lost.

I tried to listen to her thoughts again, but I was extra careful. They seemed more organized this time, though still filled with confusion.

[This… this is Vale, there's no way this is anything else. But… how…?]

Well, at least her thoughts aren't distorted anymore. I can read them without issues now, but I'll still be a bit careful.

[I was… I was fighting… I died, I know I died… So why?]

She slowly lifted her gaze, looking toward Beacon's towers in the distance.

Even from here, they were visible.

[The towers are still standing… Beacon hasn't fallen… This… this is before… before everything collapsed.]

My expression became slightly more serious.

She's talking as if…

[Ten years…? No… nine… almost ten. This is before Beacon's fall. Before everything went wrong. I really went back ten years into the past.]

I slowly crossed my arms.

She… thinks she went back in time?

That was absurd.

And yet…

Her thoughts didn't feel like lies.

Nor like ordinary delusion.

And I knew how to tell the difference after so many years reading other people's minds.

She looked back at me.

This time, her gaze carried something different.

Something heavier.

[It really is Jaune… What do I say? I don't know what to say… it's still strange seeing him like this. He… after Beacon's fall, I never saw him again, since he stopped visiting Vale. And… and just one year after Beacon's fall… Jaune and his family died… I really… couldn't save anyone.]

For a moment, the world seemed quieter.

…what?

My expression didn't change much on the outside.

But inside…

What do you mean I and my family died!?

That was genuinely alarming to me. However, I couldn't dwell on it deeply at the moment.

It was truly strange—a girl I've never met was looking at me with tears forming in her eyes. It almost felt like a rushed romantic comedy setup, but maybe I was just being paranoid.

Before I could say anything, I heard a sound, and she abruptly turned her gaze away.

I followed her line of sight.

Further ahead, at a distance…

A Dust shop.

Its storefront window shattered.

And several figures moving inside.

A robbery.

Happening right in front of our eyes.

Her thoughts returned, now with more clarity.

[It's the same. Exactly the same. The Dust shop robbery… Roman Torchwick. Ah, I remember! This is my pass to enter Beacon, I have to go!]

Suddenly, she took off running toward the place in question.

I remained silent for a moment, observing and analyzing.

Roman Torchwick, huh.

Of course it had to be him. I knew Roman, somewhat. Not as friends, of course, but our paths had crossed before. I had heard about the Dust shop robberies when I arrived here, but I didn't expect Roman to be behind them. He's not the type to limit himself to simple Dust theft.

He must be working for someone.

Well, I guess I should see how the little Regressor handles Roman.

Ruby ran.

The night wind cut across her face as her feet struck the stone streets of Vale—quick, slightly unsteady at first, but gradually finding rhythm as her mind struggled to keep up with her own body.

'Ten years… I really went back ten years…'

The thought still felt absurd, even after being repeated countless times.

The city lights blurred past her, as if the entire world were slightly out of focus. But it wasn't. Everything was too clear. Too vivid.

The scents.

The sounds.

The weight of her own body.

Everything was real.

And that was the most frightening part.

'This is before Beacon… before everything went wrong… before everything ended…'

Her breathing became irregular for a moment.

She clenched her teeth.

She couldn't stop.

Not now.

'Jaune…'

His image appeared in her mind effortlessly.

His carefree smile.

That strange way he always seemed to know more than he should.

'He's alive…'

Her chest tightened.

'I… I saw him die… no… not exactly… I never saw the body… but… he disappeared… and then… his family…'

She shook her head as she ran.

No.

Not now.

She couldn't lose herself in that right now.

But even so, the thoughts continued.

'He always showed up in Vale. It was his favorite place. I ended up meeting him because of his frequent visits to Vale. After some time, Yang, Blake, and Weiss also met him thanks to me.'

And then—

A memory.

Jaune holding a deck of cards.

He was performing a "trick" for them. He called himself a great magician. There was even a time when she visited El Dourado, Vale's best casino, with Jaune in disguise. It was a fun memory.

Back then, she had no idea. Jaune's so-called "tricks" were actually much more than mere magic tricks.

'Ozpin said that only he and Salem could use magic, even if only a little…'

Then why—

Was Jaune also capable of using magic?

Back then, she had no idea, but after witnessing real magic before her eyes, she knew. Not all of his "tricks," but some of them carried that mysterious power—the power of magic.

She didn't have time to think much further.

The Dust shop.

The shattered storefront.

Shadows moving inside.

'It's the same.'

Exactly the same.

Without hesitation, Ruby surged forward.

She drew her weapon from within her cloak in one fluid motion, spinning the handle and activating the mechanism with a familiar metallic click.

The scythe unfolded.

Crescent Rose was back in her hands.

And for a brief moment—

Everything made sense.

The weight.

The balance.

The reach.

Even in a younger body…

That was still part of her.

She leapt through the broken storefront without hesitation.

—CRASH!

The thugs immediately turned.

"Hey! Who—"

They didn't finish the sentence.

Ruby was already in motion.

Her body burst into red petals, crossing the space in an instant.

—BANG!

A shot propelled her scythe's movement, spinning her body midair.

The first thug was struck in the chest and thrown back into the shelves.

—CRACK!

Another tried to react, raising his weapon—

Too late.

The scythe blade swept past, knocking the weapon aside and spinning the handle to strike his stomach.

Ruby landed lightly.

Taking a deep breath.

'Slower…'

She realized it immediately.

Her Semblance.

'It's much slower than I remember.'

It was expected that she wouldn't retain the same level she had at 25 years old. Even if it was much slower than she remembered, it was still functional.

Two more advanced.

She spun her weapon, using the handle to block a strike, lowering her body and sweeping the other's legs.

—THUD!

—BANG!

A shot from her own weapon propelled a full spin, the blade striking another enemy from the side.

It was a clean, precise, and experienced movement. Even though she had returned to the body she had at only 15 years old, the experience of ten years of combat and survival was still there.

Roman Torchwick, who had been observing the chaos, leaned casually against his cane-weapon resting on his shoulder. He flashed a grin and spoke with mockery.

"You really are worth every lien." He tapped his cane against the ground. "Girls these days always get so excited about ruining business, don't they, Red?"

Ruby looked at him and took a deep breath. She raised Crescent Rose again and pointed it at Roman. The shop owner seemed to have fled some time ago, so she didn't have to worry much about that.

"You…"

Roman raised an eyebrow. Her voice came out sharp. There seemed to be some personal hostility toward him.

"Oh? Do I know you?" he asked. "I can feel some personal hostility toward me, Red. But I'm pretty sure this is the first time we've met. Maybe I robbed somewhere your family works? Well, if that's the case, my apologies—but business is business."

"You should choose your jobs better… and who you work for."

"Ah, a brat telling me that is adorable."

Even though he said that, he thought her tone was strange. It was almost as if she knew he was working with that fiery bitch. He didn’t think that was possible.

He twirled his cane.

"So tell me… do you always enter other people's shops like this, destroying property?"

A small provocation. Although he and his thugs had caused most of the damage, his opponent didn't look older than 17, so he could try to buy time by talking. Or at least, that's what he thought he could do.

Ruby surged forward without responding, red petals trailing behind as she appeared in front of him in an instant. Crescent Rose cut through the air in a wide arc.

Roman blocked with his cane—

—CLANG!

The impact reverberated.

He slid back a few inches.

He looked at the girl in surprise.

"…What the hell are they feeding kids these days?"

Even with aura, that level of strength wasn't normal for a brat. However, he didn't have much time to think about it, as Ruby didn't give him the chance.

She twisted her body, using the momentum to launch another attack—faster still. Roman narrowly dodged, leaning back. The blade passed just inches from his face. However, Ruby's assault didn't stop there. She continued attacking relentlessly while Roman focused on defending each strike.

At one opening, she used her Semblance to reposition instantly. Roman reacted quickly and was already prepared to block her scythe, but Ruby surprised him by kicking him in the stomach, sending him crashing into one of the shop's shelves.

—CRASH!

The wood splintered on impact.

"Now, that was extremely rude."

Roman's voice came out in a cold tone, unlike his previous playful and mocking demeanor. He raised his arm with the cane and counterattacked. The cane fired.

—BANG!

Ruby dodged to the side, feeling the shot's impact pass close by. Part of the shop was destroyed.

"Well done, Red. You've certainly managed to irritate me in a way no one else has," he said, now standing as he brushed dust off his clothes with his other hand. "Now, tell me. How old are you, really?"

"Huh…?" Ruby replied for the first time since the fight began.

The question was so unexpected that it completely broke the rhythm of the battle. Ruby blinked, as if trying to confirm she had heard it correctly. For a moment, her eyes wavered.

"What kind of question is that…?" she murmured.

"Don't be stupid, Red. You're a Huntress, aren't you?"

"…"

"Although you do seem quite young," he continued, narrowing his eyes with a crooked smile, "you fight like someone with experience. Your movements… aren't those of a mere beginner. There's instinct there, experience. The kind only a real Huntsman has."

Roman tilted his head slightly, analyzing her from top to bottom, as if trying to unravel a puzzle.

"But…" he paused briefly, his tone sharpening, "there's also something off. You react well, even quickly—but your body doesn't keep up at the same level. It's as if you know exactly what to do, but you're not… used to doing it."

Ruby tightened her grip on Crescent Rose. He was partially right. She was still getting used to fighting with a 15-year-old body again.

He took a small step forward, his smile widening.

"What's strange, don't you think? Someone with that kind of combat awareness should already have that engraved into their muscles."

His eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity, mixed with provocation.

"So tell me, Red…" he raised his cane slightly, pointing it at her, "how old are you, really?"

Ruby didn't know how to answer that. Mentally, she was 25, but she was in the body she had at 15. It was still strange to her. Of course, Roman didn't know that—he simply thought she looked young, but he must assume she was in her early twenties.

However, she didn't need to answer his questions. She prepared to attack him again when she heard a familiar sound coming from above, near the Dust shop they were in.

Roman smiled.

"Ah. Finally."

She realized it a bit too late. Roman stepped back and pointed his cane at her, firing at the ground and kicking up dust into a smoke curtain. He had only been stalling.

Ruby surged forward through the smoke. Roman was already running; she followed, leaping out of the shop.

The aircraft hovered low. There was a figure in the pilot's seat. Although Ruby couldn't see clearly, she knew who it was.

'Neo...'

Roman jumped and grabbed the side of the aircraft.

Ruby couldn't let him escape again. She ran and leapt, firing a shot backward with her scythe, using the recoil as momentum to propel herself even higher.

The wind roared against her face as she surged through the air, blade ready.

With a swift spin, Ruby struck the side of the aircraft. The metal screamed under the impact, tearing into an irregular gash that sent sparks and fragments scattering into the air.

Roman barely managed to pull himself up in time.

The aircraft shook violently.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he shouted.

Inside the cockpit, Neo tilted her head slightly. Her eyes analyzed Ruby for a brief second… and then she pulled the control lever.

The aircraft suddenly shot upward.

Ruby didn't try to hold on, driving her blade deeper into the fuselage, but the metal finally gave way. The part she was holding detached with a sharp crack.

For a moment, everything went silent.

Then she began to fall.

Roman, already secure on the aircraft, tipped his hat in a provocative farewell.

"Until next time, Red."

The aircraft disappeared between the buildings, leaving only the distant sound of its engines. Even though Ruby had managed to damage it, Roman still escaped—but it was clear they wouldn't get far.

Ruby simply closed her eyes midair, preparing for the impact. It would hurt a little—maybe quite a bit—but with the aura she had left, it wouldn't be dangerous.

And then—

'Eh?'

"Wow."

The hard ground never came.

Instead, she heard a familiar voice. The tone was calm, almost amused.

"You really gave Roman a hard time and put on quite a show."

Only then did she realize her position. Jaune's face was very close to hers, holding her in a princess carry with a smile on his face.

Her face turned red from the proximity.

'Too close, too close! Calm down Ruby, it's just Jaune, an old friend… breathe… breathe…!'

She was so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Jaune's smile widening because of them.

'It's not like I've never been carried before… I mean… it has happened… but not like this! And not this close! And definitely not by someone looking at me like that!'

As amusing as it was, he needed to pull her out of those thoughts.

"So, are you a black rose with thorns… or a walking storm dressed in red and black that destroys everything?"

"Eh?"

Her face flushed again. But before she could think or say anything else, the sound of footsteps was heard.

Heels striking the stone floor. A firm and authoritative presence approached them.

They both looked.

A woman approached with impeccable posture.

Blonde hair tied into an elegant bun, with a strand falling beside her face. Thin-framed glasses reflecting the light. She had bright green eyes, formal clothing, and a black cloak with a purple interior draped over her back.

Jaune and Ruby knew her.

Glynda Goodwitch.

She stopped in front of them. First, she looked at the destruction—the shattered shop and the black-clad men lying on the ground inside. Then she looked at Ruby, at the position she was in, being held by Jaune like a princess. She blushed again and quickly spoke up.

"This isn't what it looks like!"

However, Glynda ignored Ruby's words and shifted her gaze to Jaune, who was still holding her. Glynda's expression changed slightly.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here, Mr. Arc?"

Jaune smiled.

"Also glad to see you, Glynda," his tone was casual. "Funny how we only meet in problematic situations, isn't it?"

It seemed they knew each other—and they did. However, just because they knew each other didn't mean they were friends. Jaune's track record was enough to explain the nature of their relationship: recurring encounters in less-than-ideal circumstances, almost always involving misunderstandings.

Glynda let out a brief sigh, like someone who had seen that pattern far too many times.

"I've gotten used to finding you in police stations after you've been kicked out of some casino," she replied in a dry, unsurprised tone. "Unfounded accusations, confusion after confusion—you have a particular talent for that."

"Hey, it's not like I can be kicked out of a casino when I've already been kicked out of all of them."

She ignored his words.

"But finding you in a completely devastated Dust shop, holding a young girl in your arms like that…"

"Ah!?" Ruby reacted, realizing she was still in Jaune's arms.

She immediately gestured, and Jaune released her without issue. Ruby was finally standing on her own again.

"I agree that my history with you and Ozpin isn't the best, but this is absurd even for me."

Jaune said, raising his hands.

"This time, I'm innocent."

And then, he shamelessly pointed at Ruby, who looked at him in confusion.

"She's the culprit. You can arrest her all you want, but leave me out of this."

Chapter Text

The room was somewhat cold. It wasn't as if the temperature itself was actually low, but the atmosphere made it feel that way. It was to be expected from an interrogation room, and I was already used to it. After all, this wasn't the first time I had been in this kind of place. I guess I can blame those sore loser casino owners for that.

The smooth walls of the room reflected a silence that not even Glynda Goodwitch's firm footsteps could fully break. She stood there, arms crossed, her glasses perfectly aligned on her face—as if even the angle of the frame was a matter of authority—while she paced back and forth, looking between me and Ruby with a clearly displeased expression.

I had nothing to do with the robbery or the destruction of that Dust shop. The person responsible was right beside me, so it felt a bit unfair to receive the same treatment as her.

[Sincerely, what am I supposed to do with them? While Mr. Arc is someone who causes trouble, most incidents involve scandals with casino owners accusing him of cheating. However, there has never been any proof that he actually cheated. Because of that, the owners are forced to pay everything he wins—but then they expel him and ban him from returning to their casinos. At this point, he has already been banned from every casino in Vale.]

It's not my fault they don't know how to lose. Still, thinking about it… maybe I should have held back a bit more with my Mind Reading instead of winning nonstop. Yeah… I think I really overdid it.

I blame the previous one for influencing me to use Mind Reading this way.

"Mr. Arc," her voice came out in a stern tone. "I truly thought we wouldn't find ourselves in this situation again after you were banned from all the casinos in Vale. What do you have to say in your defense?"

"That's a bit unfair, Glynda. I already told you, I had nothing to do with this. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The one responsible for destroying the shop is her," I said, pointing at Ruby beside me.

"Hey! They destroyed most of the shop!" she protested.

[Also, why are you putting all the blame on me!? What happened to the gentleman who caught me in his arms when I was falling!?]

I don't really consider myself any kind of knight in shining armor. And besides, what does one thing have to do with the other?

"Indeed. However, that doesn't change the fact that you are one of those responsible for the destruction."

"That's not fair, I was just trying to stop them from stealing the Dust shop," she muttered.

"And you did so magnificently," I couldn't help but comment.

"Alright, that's enough," Glynda's voice made both Ruby and I look at her. "Miss Rose, I'm not saying your mindset was wrong in doing what you did. However, you need to think things through. You're not even a Huntress yet—putting yourself at risk like that is wrong. You should have waited for the authorities."

"But if I had waited, they would've stolen all the Dust! Besides, I wasn't in danger!"

Glynda simply narrowed her eyes. However, before she could speak, I decided to speak in Ruby's defense.

"Although I didn't see everything in detail, I can say that the only unfortunate ones in danger were the thieves, Glynda. She dealt with the henchmen easily and even fought Roman Torchwick decently for a while, forcing him to retreat before you could arrive."

She looked at me, then at Ruby, thinking.

[Although his words are exaggerated, she handled the situation efficiently. The fallen criminals show she defeated them with ease, but being able to face Torchwick for some time before making him retreat is admirable. However, he must have retreated only because he knew a Huntsman would arrive soon due to the noise and destruction their fight caused.]

She managed to deduce that the criminals had been defeated easily with just a glance when she arrived at the scene, before deciding how to deal with us.

She really isn't a Huntress for nothing. And even without seeing the fight, she still underestimates Ruby a bit. Well, I can't blame her—it's simply absurd to think that this 15-year-old girl is actually a woman full of experience who died at 25 at the end of the world and returned to her 15-year-old body. If it weren't for my Mind Reading, it would be impossible to figure that out, unless Ruby told me herself.

And if it weren't for those intense memories of Ruby that I witnessed when I met her, I probably wouldn't have believed it and would've just thought she was crazy. There's no way memories that vivid could be fake. I almost got lost in them, after all.

Hm… thinking about it, with all the ridiculous things that exist in this world, someone going back in time isn't that absurd…

[Even so…]

With that final thought, Glynda responded in a sharp tone, looking at Ruby.

"No matter how skilled you are in combat, putting yourself in unnecessary danger by fighting a dangerous criminal like Torchwick is completely irresponsible, Miss Rose."

"…I understand," Ruby said, in a strangely subdued tone.

[Even though I don't see much of a problem with how I acted, I should think more carefully from now on. Because of how I acted, I ended up putting my team in many bad situations in the past… but I really didn't want to let Roman escape this time. I'll deal with him and Neo in the future. Still, it's strange getting lectured by Glynda again; mentally, I'm already an adult… and now I'm fifteen again. Seriously, this is still really weird!]

Honestly, she's kind of strange for someone who was 25 and went through the end of the world. I mean, her eyes are full of happiness. How can someone who witnessed the end of the world be like that?

Could it be that the happiness of returning with all the people she cares about still alive erased everything she saw? Maybe that shine in her eyes was proof that something inside her remained untouched—something not even the end of the world could reach. Still, that's only the surface.

Eventually, when she has a moment alone to think about everything, things might change.

[Even so, I'm really happy to see her and Jaune again. After everything that happened to her… no, let's not think like that, Ruby! Now that I'm back, I can fix things the best way possible!]

Hey, wait a second. What happened to Glynda?

Don't just stop your thoughts like that!

"As long as you truly understand," the moment Glynda spoke, a knock was heard at the door. "Alright, there's someone who wants to speak with you, Miss Rose."

Why do I feel like I'm being left out here?

Glynda walked to the door and opened it.

The sound of a soft creak echoed, and a new presence entered the room.

It was someone I knew very well.

His appearance was the same as always. Gray hair arranged in a calculated dishevelment, a calm expression hiding a mind as sharp as a blade. His glasses, resting low on his nose, reflected the white light of the room, obscuring his yellow eyes—which, no matter how gentle they seemed, rarely blinked. In his right hand, he held his inseparable cup of coffee.

Ozpin walked to the center of the room with the calmness of someone who carried centuries on his back—someone who had seen far more than anyone there ever would.

Heh… it would be nice if it were only centuries.

"Mr. Arc," he said with a slight nod, a subtle smile forming on his lips. "Have you been kicked out of any new casinos that I'm not aware of?"

I crossed my arms, relaxing in the chair.

"I wish that were the case. However, it's impossible to get banned from more casinos when I've already been banned from all of them. Your dear assistant is keeping me stuck here simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they didn't even offer me any coffee."

[This brat...]

"You are not here to relax, Mr. Arc. There is no reason to offer you coffee."

I glanced toward Glynda, who stared back at me with the intensity of a hawk. This was one of the most entertaining parts of Mind Reading. On the outside, Glynda had a strict and sharp personality, but every now and then, thoughts would slip through that completely contradicted the image she presented—things she would never say out loud.

Of course, she wasn't the only one like that. Most people would never dare say what they truly think out loud. But I could hear all those voices.

Ozpin blinked and looked at the coffee in his hand.

"Well, I suppose I should apologize for that. Would you like some of mine?" he offered.

"Professor Ozpin, don't even think about it."

Glynda's voice was enough to make Ozpin fake a cough and sit down in the chair across the table.

[Glynda truly has a remarkable talent for rigidity. I wonder if she would ever consider the idea of relaxing… even if only for a moment.]

This is one of the rare times I agree with this guy. She really should relax a bit. I mean, how the hell is she supposed to get a boyfriend if she keeps acting like this?

Suddenly, the moment I thought that, she looked at me as if she had heard every single word in my head. My body stiffened instantly, and I averted my gaze almost instinctively, trying to look as innocent as possible.

I should be the only Mind Reader here. Damn women and their supernatural instincts.

[What do I do… what do I do?]

I looked at Ruby beside me, who seemed a bit disoriented by Ozpin's presence. She was looking at him in a rather strange way. Her eyes were conflicted, as if she didn't know whether to look at him with anger or relief.

Ruby was staring at him as if she were looking at someone who shouldn't be there.

Ozpin tilted his head slightly. He had clearly noticed her gaze.

"Miss Rose," he said in his usual calm voice. "Is everything alright?"

Ruby blinked, as if she had been pulled back from somewhere very far away.

"Ah—yes! Yes, everything's fine," she replied quickly, adjusting her posture in the chair. "I just… was a bit surprised to be talking to you."

A half-truth. Her thoughts were far from that simple.

[He's here… just like before. The same demeanor, the same tone of voice, as if nothing had happened. Beacon hasn't fallen yet, but from the very beginning he was manipulating everyone because of his war against Salem. Still, that doesn't change the fact that he will be a great help for what's to come... Should I tell him? Should I really say that I went back in time, that Salem isn't the final threat that destroyed the world in the end? What if that makes things worse? Even if I told him everything, what guarantees that he would believe me? And even if he did… I'm not sure I can fully trust him anymore, not like before. I won't say anything for now—I'll take some time to think about everything later and decide what to do.]

Hm.

She decided to keep that information to herself. That was indeed the safest choice for now. Especially when the person you'd have to trust is this immortal old man. Even if what he does is for a greater cause… it doesn't change the fact that he's the biggest culprit of all.

Ozpin kept his gaze on her for a moment longer, as if evaluating something he couldn't directly see.

"I see," he said simply, before taking a small sip of his coffee. "I imagine this situation is not a common one for someone your age."

"It definitely isn't," Ruby replied, a bit more composed now.

Then her eyes narrowed slightly.

Not aggressively.

But focused.

"If I may make an observation… your eyes are quite unusual."

Ruby fell silent for a second.

"Ah… those?" she brought a hand to her face somewhat awkwardly. "They're just… silver."

Ruby swallowed as she thought.

[This conversation is a little different from last time…?]

Ozpin didn't look away.

"Yes," he said calmly. "Silver."

But his thoughts said more.

[It has been a long time since I've seen eyes like those. Summer Rose… her determination, her strength, her choice to fight even knowing the risks. Those eyes have always been tied to something greater than mere appearance—something few fully understand. A completely lethal weapon against the Grimm. And now, her daughter carries that same deadly weapon. She will certainly be a great help to humanity in the future.]

Even though he thinks about humanity, it's obvious he's more interested in how those eyes can help him in his war against Salem.

Fortunately, Ruby already seemed aware of that, because she briefly looked away from him.

[He's clearly thinking about how the power of my eyes can be useful to him. I only discovered them during the fall of Beacon when I accidentally petrified the Grimm Wyvern after witnessing Pyrrha's death.]

"Yeah… it's hereditary. My mother also had silver eyes," she said, trying to sound casual.

[Actually, I'm a bit curious. It took me a long time to learn how to use the power of my silver eyes. Will I be able to use them the same way as in the future? I mean, my Semblance and body aren't the same, but my eyes should be different if I already know how to use them, right? I guess that's something I should test in secret before entering Beacon.]

Even though it has nothing to do with me, I'm a bit curious about those eyes. I know their power, but I've never had the chance to see it firsthand, since until now I thought all Silver-Eyed Warriors were extinct.

Ozpin nodded.

"A very special inheritance. I knew your mother, Summer Rose. I was only surprised to see that you inherited her unusual eyes."

Silence.

For a moment, no one spoke.

From the way he said it and the heavy silence from Ruby, it wasn't hard to tell that her mother was probably no longer among us.

I decided to break it before it got too awkward.

"Since we're all here and apparently no one's going to release me anytime soon," I said, leaning back slightly in the chair, "can I ask a question?"

Ozpin turned his gaze to me.

"Of course, Mr. Arc."

"How long has Roman been carrying out these Dust robberies?"

Glynda gave me a brief look.

Ozpin raised his cup to his lips before answering.

"Not long," he said. "The first incidents started appearing a few weeks ago. At first, they seemed like isolated cases, but now it's clear there's a pattern."

A few weeks.

It's really recent. After all, the last time I was here, this wasn't happening yet.

"Makes sense," I muttered.

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Something on your mind?"

I shrugged.

"Well, I've run into Roman a few times in less-than-pleasant situations—of course, back then I didn't know who he really was. Still, from those brief encounters, I can say with confidence: Roman isn't exactly the type of guy who goes around robbing Dust shops on his own. Small cons, manipulation, connections… that seems more like his style. But this? This feels too big for him."

Almost all the Dust from the various shops came from the same source: the Schnee Dust Company, one of the largest producers and exporters of Dust in all of Remnant. No matter how skilled Roman is, he'll end up attracting the attention of powerful people if he keeps up these robberies.

It's simply too risky.

Ozpin nodded slowly.

"I agree with your assessment."

His thoughts followed.

[He observes more than he lets on. This isn't just luck or coincidence; there is a pattern in the way he understands situations and the people around him. His history with the casinos, the reports from owners claiming it's impossible for someone to win that much without cheating in some way… and yet, no evidence has ever been found that he actually cheated. The only explanations I can think of are: either he is extremely lucky and skilled, or it has something to do with his Semblance—whatever that may be.]

That's a good line of reasoning, but it's neither. I mean, I am skilled, sure, but most of my success comes from my Mind Reading. And Mind Reading isn't my Semblance.

"In that case, it means he's working with someone, right?" I concluded.

"Yes," Ozpin replied. "That is the most likely hypothesis."

At that moment, something caught my attention.

One of Ruby's thoughts.

[Cinder…]

She only thought the name, but the intensity behind it was overwhelming—a level of anger I hadn't seen her express since the brief moment we met. That was when I concluded: this must be the person Roman was working with.

Cinder, huh.

I stored that away mentally.

"Any suspects?" I asked, as if it were just casual curiosity.

Ozpin shook his head slightly.

"We don't have confirmation of anything concrete yet. However… there are two suspicious organizations. The first is the White Fang. Several of their members were seen in Vale shortly before Roman's Dust robberies began, although so far they haven't participated in any of them."

He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.

"Of course, even if they haven't participated in the robberies, it is rather strange that several of their members were seen in Vale shortly before they began. The second organization is Noir Eclipse, a criminal organization that appeared recently. It is still very mysterious, and little is known about it, but the organization's name surfaced out of nowhere when the robberies started."

Hm.

That name appearing out of nowhere was unexpected, but I didn't let any surprise show on my face.

"A criminal organization that appeared out of nowhere, you say. Isn't it possible that Roman and his men invented this organization to divert attention from the White Fang or to mislead any suspicion away from them?"

I was absolutely certain that Noir Eclipse had no involvement in this.

"Of course, we have considered that possibility. We have also considered that both organizations may be working with Roman. There are several questions to take into account. For example: if the White Fang is involved, why would they be helping Roman Torchwick, a human, when most of their members despise humans?"

That is indeed something to think about.

"There are still many unknowns; therefore, we cannot afford to jump to conclusions."

"I see," I said simply.

Glynda and Ruby remained silent during our brief conversation.

However, Ruby's thoughts were racing, jumping from one concern to another, as if she were trying to process everything at once. It was clear that something completely occupied her mind, even though not a single word left her lips.

[Roman is definitely working for Cinder. If I don't do anything, everything will happen just like before. I already know practically all of her plans that led to the Fall of Beacon. It would be easier to just eliminate her now, but I still need to get used to my 15-year-old body again! Ah… what should I do?]

This is one of the greatest advantages of a regressor, shown in practically every story that includes them: knowledge of what will happen, where, when, and how. The difference is that, in most of those stories, regressors have already gone through multiple lives or regressions. For Ruby, this is her first time, and she still doesn't have that cold, calculated mindset that experienced regressors display.

[As far as I know, Roman isn't working with the White Fang yet—or at least not officially. As for that organization, Noir Eclipse… this is the first time I've heard of them this early, probably because Jaune is here with me and spoke with Ozpin. Even in my past life, I barely heard anything about them. From what I can tell, the only reason I know anything about this organization is that, for some unknown reason, they went insane and started terrorizing the entire world.]

I shuddered as I read those thoughts.

I can imagine the reason why they went insane.

[Ah, I think I'm overthinking things! I need to calm down and analyze everything properly later. The fact is, I need to change the course of things… make everything better!]

Well, good luck with that. As simple as it sounds to change the future just by knowing what happens, I don't believe it's that easy.

Ozpin then turned his attention back to Ruby.

"Miss Rose," he said calmly, "despite the circumstances, even without having seen your fight against Roman and his men, from what Glynda told me about the condition of those who were knocked unconscious in the shop, I must admit your performance was impressive."

"In fact, it was more than impressive," I added.

Ruby blinked and shot a quick glance at Ozpin before looking at me. Her face turned red. She probably remembered how I caught her like a princess when she fell from the airship, preventing her from hitting the ground from that height.

Even if her Aura would have protected her from serious injuries, the height was still enough to hurt.

"Ah… thanks?"

[Ah… right, he caught me! His hands…?! No, no, no, wrong thoughts, Ruby Rose! There are more important things right now!]

She's actually pretty amusing.

Ozpin smiled faintly before speaking, and Ruby quickly snapped out of her thoughts, focusing entirely on him.

"Facing armed criminals and even Torchwick is not something common for someone your age. It shows skill… and courage."

Glynda crossed her arms before speaking.

"Or recklessness."

Even after talking to Ruby already, she really can't help but throw that in, huh.

"Sometimes," Ozpin replied, "the two go hand in hand."

He rested his elbow on the table, observing Ruby more closely.

"Tell me… have you ever considered becoming a Huntress?"

Silence.

Ruby froze for a second.

[Alright, here we go. I don't think my answer will change much—it's practically impossible for Ozpin not to invite me, but it would still be terrible if I couldn't get into Beacon.]

She took a deep breath.

And then answered.

"Yes," she said, more firmly. "I want to become a Huntress."

Ozpin nodded, satisfied.

"I thought as much."

He brought the coffee to his lips again.

"Beacon is always open to promising talent. However… there is usually a process to follow."

Glynda cast a sideways glance.

"A process that involves minimum age requirements and proper evaluation," she added.

"Naturally," Ozpin agreed.

He turned his gaze back to Ruby.

"But sometimes… certain circumstances allow for some flexibility."

Ruby tilted her head slightly.

"Like…?"

He smiled.

"Accepting someone before the expected time."

[Yes! I'm still in!]

She smiled.

A genuine smile, full of relief.

"I'd really like that!"

Ozpin nodded.

"Excellent."

Then…

He turned his gaze to me.

"Mr. Arc," he said, in that same calm tone as always. "And what about you?"

I tilted my head slightly.

"What about me?"

"To be honest, I've always had an interest in inviting you to join Beacon, ever since we first met—when you were expelled from your first casino," he said, taking the last sip of his coffee. "However, I had the impression that you weren't interested in becoming a Huntsman, so I never made a formal invitation."

[Glynda may not admit it easily, but I'm certain she has also noticed that he is not just another troublemaker. Additionally, there are rumors that he used to perform magic tricks for children. Not that it's anything serious—simple tricks to entertain children are harmless—but there is something about him that has always piqued my curiosity. Ever since the first time we met, I've felt as though his presence is strangely familiar to me, though I still cannot explain exactly why.]

That's really troublesome.

"Indeed, I never wanted to become a Huntsman, although I was interested in them for a time." Besides, I really don't want to become a chess piece in his little game against Salem.

Still…

"So, are you making me a formal invitation now?"

"I believe it would be interesting to have someone like you at my school, Mr. Arc."

Yeah, I'm sure it would be interesting for you, you damn immortal.

I would normally refuse such an offer without hesitation. But there is something stopping me from doing that.

[Eh, Jaune can come to Beacon too…? That would be amazing! If he accepts, I'll be able to keep an eye on him closely! I still don't know how he or his family died, but I'll find out why… He has to accept. Please… accept…! Jaune... accept...!]

Stop looking at me with those eyes, damn it.

She's the main reason I'm hesitating to refuse this offer. For some reason I still don't understand, the world will be destroyed in 10 years. However, from what I gathered from her thoughts when I met her, my family and I will die about a year after the Fall of Beacon—whenever that happens.

I have no idea how the hell my family or I are going to die, but I can imagine why someone would want to kill us—or rather, want to kill me. Still, it's impossible for them to find out. There are only two people in the world who know that secret of mine, and neither of them would ever reveal it.

"I—I think it would be amazing if you accepted!" Ruby finally said out loud after seeing me silent for a while. "I mean… I'd be really happy if we went to Beacon together!"

She leaned closer to me, gripping my hands tightly.

[Please, accept…! Please…!]

And… what happened to her sense of personal space?

She may have been my friend in the previous loop, but in this one, we're complete strangers who met by chance. She should be aware of that. The display of extreme familiarity was enough to make Ozpin raise an eyebrow, while Glynda remained still, maintaining her usual stern expression.

"So, Mr. Arc… it seems there is someone else who wishes for you to come here, besides me. What is your answer?"

Ozpin asked with a small smile.

This bastard is just taking advantage of the situation.

I simply looked at Ruby, who was still staring at me with that intense expectation. With a sigh, I made her let go of my hands and turned back to Ozpin.

Knowing that my family and I will likely die, and that the world will end in 10 years… I really feel like I have no choice but to at least observe everything up close… damn it.

"I… I need some time to think about it."

But that doesn't mean I'll accept right away. I at least want to have a proper conversation with Ruby first.

Ozpin watched me in silence for a moment before nodding.

"Very well, Mr. Arc. I do not wish to rush you, but Beacon's Initiation is approaching. So please, make your decision before it begins."

The night air in Vale felt different.

Not as heavy as the interrogation room, but not exactly light either. There was a strange quietness in the streets at that hour, broken only by occasional footsteps and distant voices. The city lights were still on, but the earlier bustle was gone.

I walked side by side with Ruby.

For a few seconds… or maybe minutes… neither of us said anything.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable.

But it wasn't natural either.

I could hear her thoughts.

[Ok, calm down, Ruby, calm down… just say something! You can't stay silent like this! This is weird… really weird! I know him — I mean, I knew him — but now he doesn't know me! This is way too complicated! Should I start by talking about Beacon? Or thank him for not letting me fall from that height? Or… no, no, that'll sound weird! Maybe I should act normal! But what is "normal" in a situation like this?! And I still need to convince him to go to Beacon with me… that's important! Really important! I need to keep an eye on him… I need to make sure nothing happens to him this time!]

I almost sighed.

She was clearly nervous about being alone with me.

And it became even more obvious by how desperately she was trying to figure out how to start a simple conversation.

After a few steps, she stopped. I took one more step before noticing and turned slightly to face her.

She looked… determined. Or at least trying to.

"Ah—!" she started, a bit abruptly, as if she had gathered all her courage at once. "I think… it would be good to properly introduce myself."

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

She took a deep breath.

"My name is Ruby. Ruby Rose."

A small smile appeared on her face. It didn't look forced—she genuinely seemed happy. When I noticed she kept staring at me in silence after introducing herself, I decided to do the same.

"People know me by many names… the greatest gambler, the magician—and depending on who you ask, a cheater. I've been kicked out of pretty much every casino I've ever set foot in, not just in Vale. It's the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting someone as beautiful as you. My name is Jaune Arc, a man full of surprises."

I gave a slight bow with a smile.

She nodded quickly, as if registering everything, though she still looked surprised.

[That introduction was a bit different from last time, but it's still amazing! 'A man full of surprises' stayed the same, but to think I only understood the real meaning of that much later. I need to stay calm—he still doesn't know me very well, even if I know him. I have to build our friendship again.]

So… my introduction was a little different from last time, huh. I wonder just how different it was.

"So," I continued, tilting my head slightly, "Ruby… can I ask you something?"

She looked a bit surprised but nodded with an upbeat smile.

"Of course!"

"Earlier, you said you'd be happy if I went to Beacon with you. Why, exactly? I mean… we're just strangers who happened to meet, aren't we?"

I got straight to the point. Of course, I already knew the real reason she wanted me to go to Beacon, but still… I wanted to hear it from her.

[Ok, he asked. Of course he asked. It makes sense he would! I would've asked too! So… what do I say?! I can't tell the truth! 'Oh, you're going to die along with your family in two years' is a terrible way to start a friendship! He'll think I'm completely crazy! I need an answer… a normal answer! Something that makes sense!]

Two years?

So the "Fall of Beacon" will happen in one year?

That's very useful information.

"I… just thought you were interesting," she said more slowly. "I mean, you stopped me from hitting the ground when I was about to crash after falling from that airship… so… thank you for that."

"It was nothing. Even if I hadn't caught you, you wouldn't have been seriously hurt. Your aura would've cushioned the fall."

"Even so, I probably would've been completely drained of aura… so either way, I owe you one!"

"I see. So… you think I'm interesting, huh? As for owing me, don't worry—I don't really need anything."

We started walking again.

"No, seriously. You can ask for anything!"

She hurried to walk beside me as she said that.

"You should be careful using the word 'anything' in front of a man like me… What if I asked you to sleep with me as payment?"

"W-what…!? N-no! You… you're not the type of person who would ask for something like that!"

"Oh? And how are you so sure…? You just met me, remember?"

"...I just think you wouldn't do that..." she murmured.

[Jaune would never ask something that indecent! I mean, he loves teasing everyone—not even Blake, Yang, or Weiss were spared. Actually, now that I think about it, he seemed to care a lot about Blake back then… am I overthinking this?]

Now I'm curious.

When I met Ruby, while her thoughts were distorted, I saw a brief memory, and in that memory, Ruby was screaming, apparently at this person called Blake. But the question is: who is Blake?

As we walked, I kept listening to Ruby's thoughts.

[He didn't mention Beacon… was my approach bad? Should I have said something else? No, no, it's fine! It was the best I could do! Now I just need to keep the conversation going normally… and… and… ah! I need his contact!]

She reached into her pocket.

And pulled out her Scroll.

The movement was a bit hesitant.

So was her gaze.

"Hey, Jaune… you… you have a Scroll, right?"

[Idiot! Of course he has a Scroll! Why did I ask something like that?!]

I looked at the Scroll in her hand.

"I do."

She nodded.

And then…

Hesitated again.

[Ok, say it! Just ask for his contact! It's simple! People do this all the time! It's no big deal! I'm mentally 25 years old! I've fought giant Grimm! I've faced things way worse than asking for someone's contact! So why is this so hard?!]

She really was amusing.

Her face turned slightly red.

"Can you… give me your contact?"

She looked away immediately.

As if it were something extremely embarrassing.

[Why is this so embarrassing?! I've never done this before! I mean, last time he was the one who asked! I've never asked a guy for his contact before! This is weird! Really weird!]

She averted her gaze right away.

As if it were something extremely shameful.

I watched her in silence for a moment.

For a second, a thought crossed my mind.

Could it be… that she liked me in her previous life?

The way she speaks, the way she reacts… even if she's shy around boys, it doesn't change the fact that she's already witnessed and taken part in a war to stop the end of the world.

That thought only lasted an instant before I dismissed it. If she really had feelings for me in that way, I would've noticed something clearer in her thoughts—something direct, obvious. Since I saw nothing like that, I let it go.

"Uh..."

After a long silence, her voice came out again. She seemed afraid I might refuse.

"Sure, I don't mind."

A smile spread across her face. She extended her Scroll, and our fingers brushed for a brief moment.

And—

"Ah—!"

She let out a small sound.

I raised an eyebrow.

She turned completely red.

"Sorry!" she said quickly.

[Why did I do that?! It was just a touch! A completely normal touch! I'm ridiculous!]

I simply ignored her thoughts and added my contact to the Scroll she was holding.

"There."

[I did it… I actually did it! I have his contact now… this early… last time it took much longer… this is good! This is really good!]

She quickly put the Scroll away.

As if she were protecting it.

And then—

"RUBY!"

A female voice echoed through the street—loud, firm, full of energy, and impossible to ignore.

Ruby froze for a second before turning around.

And in that instant, her thoughts changed completely.

[Yang…!]

I followed her gaze and saw a blonde woman.

Long golden hair, loose, falling down her back. Vibrant lilac eyes, full of energy. A confident smile on her face—almost teasing. A brown jacket, yellow top underneath, shorts, and boots—a style that practically screamed attitude.

Ruby didn't hesitate. She ran toward her and threw herself into her arms.

"YANG!"

The impact made the blonde take a step back.

"Whoa—!"

She caught Ruby by reflex.

Yang looked at Ruby, a bit confused.

"Miss me that much, Rubes?" she asked, laughing.

Ruby hugged her tighter.

And I could hear it.

[She's alive… even knowing that, why did I come back… she's alive… she's alive…!]

Her thoughts were… different. More intense. Deeper. There was something Ruby wasn't fully letting out, but I could feel it. She was holding back. Ruby was holding herself back from crying right then and there.

Yang blinked a few times.

"Okay… that was… unexpected," she said. "What happened to you?"

Ruby slowly let go of Yang and took a deep breath.

"I just… got happy to see you."

Yang tilted her head, a bit suspicious, but chose not to push.

"Dad sent me to pick you up," she continued. "You disappeared for hours. What were you doing?"

Ruby opened her mouth to answer—

And then Yang looked at me.

She stopped.

Looked me up and down.

A small smile formed on her face.

"…And who's the handsome blonde?"

Ruby froze.

"Y-Yang!"

I almost laughed.

Ruby turned toward me and introduced me.

"This is Jaune! We met today!" Then she pointed at Yang. "And this is Yang! My sister!"

Sister, huh. I looked between them. They didn't look alike at all.

"Pleasure to meet Ruby's beautiful sister."

"The pleasure's mine, meeting my sister's handsome friend," Yang replied with a playful smile.

She looked at Ruby again, then at me.

And then… her smile widened.

"So… 'met today,' huh?"

"YANG!"

She clearly enjoyed teasing. Despite having the mental experience of a 25-year-old, Ruby still didn't know how to deal with that.

After exchanging a few words, it was time to leave.

"Well, we gotta go," Yang said. "Before the old man has a heart attack."

Ruby nodded. Then she looked at me before leaving.

"I… I'll contact you on Scroll, okay?"

Yang raised an eyebrow.

Slowly.

"…Well, well."

Ruby froze.

She had made a mistake in front of Yang.

"I didn't know you were like that, Ruby."

"YANG!" Her face turned completely red. "I just—! It's not like that—! Shut up!"

Yang laughed. "Relax, relax."

They started to turn away.

But then—

Ruby stopped.

Turned back.

Looked at me.

And spoke.

"Jaune…"

Her voice was different.

More serious.

More… sincere.

"I really hope you decide to join Beacon too."

She took a deep breath.

"Because… I don't want to be alone there without friends."

[And it's not just that… I can't lose you again. Not this time. I don't know what happened to you… I don't know how you died… but I'll find out. And I'll stop it. No matter what I have to do. So… please… come.]

Yang looked at her, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Ruby looked away.

"I'll explain later."

And then—they left, leaving me alone in the middle of the street.

I stood there for a few seconds, thinking.

In the past, I was interested in hunters. Nothing serious, just a passing curiosity. But I never wanted to become one, because from the very beginning I knew that Beacon—and all the other academies that train hunters—didn't exist just to teach people how to hunt Grimm. They were training grounds, laboratories for raising soldiers in a war that had been going on for millennia—the war between Ozpin and Salem, a war that never ended.

I never wanted to be part of that.

Never wanted to become a piece on their board.

However, now that I know the world will be destroyed in ten years, and that my family and I will die in two, I can't just keep trying to live normally like I have been.

I don't know exactly how everything will unfold, but if I want to protect myself and my family, I have to step into this damn game.

The worst part is that, based on Ruby's thoughts in the interrogation room, Salem isn't the one responsible for destroying the world.

Aside from Mind Reading, I have the best ally I could possibly ask for: a regressor who has already faced countless dangerous situations and witnessed the end of the world. And even as a regressor, she didn't resemble those cold, emotionless characters you see in stories. In fact, she was probably still the same person she had been before regressing. I believe that's because this is her first regression.

If she had gone through multiple regressions, maybe she would've become someone without emotions, driven only by the desire to stop the end of the world. I don't know for sure—and I don't want to find out. I don't even know if she would regress again if she died once more—Ruby herself seemed uncertain about what brought her back.

Amid all of this, there was still the biggest factor weighing on me—the one influencing my decisions and impulses the most right now.

Ruby's feelings and thoughts.

Mind Reading isn't just about hearing other people's thoughts. At the beginning, that's all I did—and because of that simplistic approach, I made a serious mistake. A mistake that almost cost me everything. I managed to recover, but my personality changed drastically because of it. Since then, I promised myself I would be far more careful whenever I chose to go deeper with Mind Reading.

After all, even I couldn't look away after hearing someone's desire up close.

Because I know this—just as a seer is bound to the future, destined to be consumed by it, a mind reader cannot escape intense emotions.

And because of all that, I made the most important decision.

I will enroll in Beacon.

However, I won't just stand by and watch Ruby try to handle everything on her own.

I'll help her however I can.

Even if that decision might put me in danger in the future…

I don't know if she'll tell anyone about the fact that she returned to the past, or if anyone would even believe her. But even if she doesn't, there's one thing I'm certain of.

"You're not alone."

Chapter Text

The airship carrying the new students to Beacon was larger than most people expected.

It wasn't the kind of simple, utilitarian transport one would imagine for a short trip — it was spacious, with wide aisles between rows of cushioned seats arranged in pairs along panoramic windows. The interior walls were a clean, light gray, and the high ceiling made the environment feel less claustrophobic than it should for an aircraft. In the center, there was a more open area where some students were already gathering, with their luggage and equipment, looking at one another with that familiar mix of excitement and nervousness that precedes anything big.

Blake Belladonna was one of the first to enter.

Not because she was eager — quite the opposite. She had simply arrived early enough to secure what really mattered: a good seat. She walked down the aisle with quiet, deliberate steps, the black ears atop her head moving slightly as she evaluated each seat she passed. Too close to the entrance, too busy. Too much in the middle, noisy. There, near the window, in the back — perfect.

She tossed her bag into the overhead compartment, placed her folded coat as an improvised pillow on the seat, lay down across both seats with complete naturalness, and closed her eyes.

In less than two minutes, she was asleep.

The other students began arriving gradually. The noise level rose as the airship filled, and with it came the looks. Some subtle. Others not so much.

A pair of boys stopped in the aisle near her, exchanging a glance before one of them muttered:

"What the hell is that? Is she sleeping there?"

"Looks like it," the other replied, his voice low but not low enough. "And she's taking up two seats."

A girl passing down the aisle glanced briefly and kept walking, commenting to her friend beside her, "Figures it'd be a Faunus."

No one woke Blake. No one tried, in fact. There was something about the way she was lying there — completely relaxed, yet with a presence that made the idea of shaking her slightly intimidating, even if no one could quite explain why.

Blake Belladonna was not a Faunus.

At least, not in the way people understood when they used that word.

The story began years ago, when Ghira Belladonna was returning from a journey through the most remote regions of Menagerie. He was a man accustomed to difficult paths and terrain that brought most people to their knees, but what he found that day made him stop completely in his tracks.

A child. Alone, in a stretch of forest that had absolutely nothing safe about it. Small, dark-haired, with two feline ears atop her head and an expression that wasn't quite fear, but also not that of someone who fully understood where she was.

Ghira looked around. There was no one. No sign that anyone had passed through, no trail, no trace that made sense. The child was simply there, as if the world had decided to place her in that spot and that was that.

He took her home.

Kali, his wife, received the situation with a mix of surprise and that specific calm of someone who had already learned that life rarely asks for permission before presenting you with something unexpected. They took care of her, gave her a name — Blake — and integrated her into the family with a naturalness that surprised even themselves. It was strange how well the girl's appearance matched theirs, the same dark features, the same kind of serious, attentive gaze. Ghira mentioned this to Kali one night, and she simply replied that perhaps the world had a sense of humor of its own.

But it didn't take long for other things to start drawing attention.

Blake slept in absolutely improbable places. On top of the wardrobe. Under the kitchen table. On a pile of books she herself had organized before simply lying down on them. She would wake up suddenly, completely alert, and seconds later be entirely relaxed again as if nothing had happened. She followed instincts she rarely explained, because she rarely felt the need to — it simply made sense to her to follow them, and that was that.

Ghira and Kali observed. They talked among themselves. And eventually reached a conclusion that wasn't found in any ordinary book, but made sense in a way that went beyond simple logic.

There were, in the world, beings that existed differently from Faunus, from humans, from anything that fit into established categories. They were called Beast Kings — not by title earned, but by nature. Each species had its own: a being born already knowing what it was, carrying within itself something that transcended the individual and represented something greater. They were not animals that learned to resemble humans, nor humans with animal traits. They were, in essence, animals that the world had given human form, and whose nature never ceased to be evident to those who paid attention.

They were little known among ordinary people, though some had heard rumors of their existence. Among older Faunus and experienced hunters, however, their presence was not ignored — it was impossible not to know or at least suspect the existence of creatures capable of becoming true natural disasters. Even so, knowing of them did not mean finding them easily. On the contrary, they were extremely rare and difficult to locate. In this generation, for example, only the so-called Wolf King had been discovered.

Or at least, that had been the case until recently. Another Beast King had appeared.

Blake was the Cat King of this generation.

She had always known it, the same way she knew how to breathe. It wasn't a revelation, nor a dramatic moment of discovery. It was simply something that was there, part of what she was, as fundamental as the color of her eyes. The Belladonnas took a little longer to reach the same conclusion, but when they did, their reaction was less shock and more a kind of quiet realization — ah, so that was it.

They asked why she hadn't told them, and her answer came simply, almost indifferently, as if it were nothing significant: "You didn't ask."

They decided to keep it a secret. And Blake, who saw little point in announcing something she simply was, had no trouble agreeing.

The White Fang had been founded with an intention that was, at its core, quite simple: for Faunus to be treated as people.

Ghira Belladonna believed in that. He believed it with the conviction of someone who had spent years witnessing what prejudice does to an entire community, and decided there were better ways to change that than letting anger take over. Under his leadership, the White Fang was an organization of protests, political pressure, and visibility — loud when necessary, but never violent.

Blake grew up watching that. And in her own way, she came to understand.

At first, she understood more like a cub observing its parents than someone who truly grasped the structures of the world. But over time, the pieces fell into place. The Faunus were her people — not in a way she could fully explain with words, but in a way she felt deeply and instinctively. She saw them, and something within her recognized that connection.

So when she was old enough to participate, she did.

But things changed.

When Sienna Khan took Ghira's place, it was like watching water slowly heat until it boiled. At first, the changes were subtle — in tone, in the words used, in the actions approved. Then came confrontations that left people injured. Then came deaths. The White Fang Blake had known began to transform into something she recognized less and less, fueled by a hatred of humans that grew with each meeting, each speech, each action approved by the new leadership.

Blake listened to it all and tried to understand.

She understood the suffering. She understood the exhaustion of being treated as lesser. But the hatred itself — that deep, consuming hatred that turned every human into an enemy — that she could not understand, no matter how hard she tried.

There was something within her that simply did not allow it.

She wouldn't be able to explain where it came from. It was an ancient feeling, older than any memory she had, as if it had been imprinted on her long before she existed in this form, something carried from an origin she could not fully remember.

She never hated humans. She simply couldn't.

...

And the reason she was going to Beacon was quite simple.

It was Kali who brought up the subject first, on an ordinary afternoon when Blake was lying on the living room couch with a book open over her face — not to read, but because the light was bothering her and the book was the right size to block it.

"Beacon," Kali said, in that tone she used when she had thought something through carefully before speaking. "Have you ever considered going there?"

Blake slowly removed the book from her face and looked at her mother with an expression that clearly said she hadn't thought about it for even a second.

Kali continued before she could respond.

Beacon was a good school. One of the best, perhaps the best. And more than the training itself — which, let's be honest, Blake didn't need as much as most — it was a place full of people her age. People she could live with, learn from, maybe even form bonds with that would last longer than a single season.

Ghira entered the room shortly after and joined the conversation, and Blake realized the two of them had planned this beforehand. She knew them well enough to notice.

They didn't say it outright, but it was in the subtext of every word: the White Fang was changing in ways that worried them. Adam was becoming something neither of them wanted Blake to be around for long. Beacon would be a fresh start — a place away from all that, with space for her to find her own path without it already being shaped by other people's anger.

Blake listened in silence.

'I could be sleeping right now,' she thought, glancing at the couch she had just left.

But she looked at both of them. At the way Ghira watched her with that quiet concern he never turned into pressure, and at the way Kali waited for her answer with a patience that Blake had learned, over the years, to recognize as love.

They had found her alone in the middle of nowhere. They had given her a name, a house, a home — and never, not once, treated what she was as a problem to be solved. Just as Blake, simply Blake, and everything that meant.

"Alright," she said at last. "I'll go."

Ghira had already contacted Ozpin. The recommendation had been made, the spot secured. What remained was simply their request, spoken carefully but clearly: that she do her best not to reveal what she was. Not forever — they knew that would be impossible. But long enough for her to simply exist among people her own age without that defining every interaction before it even began.

Blake agreed. It wasn't difficult to agree — she didn't feel the need to explain what she was to anyone.

Before leaving, she picked a book from the shelf almost on impulse, running her fingers along the spines until one caught her attention for no apparent reason. The title said something about a man with two souls. She didn't quite know why she chose that one, but she packed it anyway. She would read it later, when there was time — or when boredom arrived first, which would probably happen sooner.

...

The Vale airship had filled up considerably since Blake had fallen asleep, and the noise level had risen along with it.

'Noisy,' she thought vaguely, somewhere between sleep and awareness. 'Too noisy.'

But not enough to wake her. New voices, footsteps, the sound of luggage being stowed — all of it was background noise, irrelevant, until the airship finally began to move.

Blake opened her eyes.

It wasn't a gradual awakening. It was immediate, complete, as if a switch had been flipped — she was awake, senses alert, ears turning forward before she even sat up. It took only a second for her to assess the environment around her and conclude that nothing was wrong. The airship had started flying. That was all.

She remained seated for a moment, letting the alertness fade.

And then she noticed it.

It was difficult to describe. It wasn't a smell, it wasn't a sound, it wasn't anything she could precisely name. It was more like a sensation, like when you enter a room you know well after being away for a long time — something familiar that the body recognizes before the mind can process why. Comfortable. Calm. Like finding shade on a hot day without having looked for it.

'What is this?' she thought, frowning slightly.

She stood up.

The looks returned immediately. Some nearby students watched her with that familiar expression of people who didn't quite know what they were seeing but knew it was unusual. A girl with pristine white hair tied in a high ponytail with a side braid looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow and a gaze that scanned her from head to toe with almost admirable efficiency, before turning away with a faint wrinkle of her nose.

Blake ignored her. She had more interesting things to focus on.

She began walking down the aisle, following that sensation with the same natural ease she used to follow any other instinct — without questioning much, simply following, letting it lead her where it needed to go. She passed groups of students chatting excitedly, a pair arguing about combat tactics, someone trying to impress their seatmate with their Semblance in a space clearly too small for it.

And then she stopped.

Near one of the panoramic windows, in a seat slightly removed from the main flow of people, there was a blond boy with blue eyes.

He was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin supported by interlaced fingers, looking out at the horizon with an expression that shifted between boredom and the mild discomfort of someone who would rather be anywhere else. There was something in his posture — not exactly relaxed, but not tense either — that suggested someone more used to observing than being observed.

It was him.

Blake stood in the aisle staring at him for a length of time that was probably long enough to be strange. The sensation was stronger now, clear and constant, like a low tone she felt more in her chest than heard. She didn't know what it was. She didn't know where it came from. But it was undeniably real, and undeniably coming from him.

'Fish,' she thought suddenly, completely unrelated to anything. 'I really want some fish right now.'

She approached.

The boy only noticed when she was a few steps away. He raised his gaze, and for a moment simply looked at her with the expression of someone trying to decide whether he should say something.

"Do you want something?" he finally asked, in a tone that wasn't rude, but clearly that of someone who had noticed he was being watched long enough to find it a bit unusual.

Blake didn't respond immediately. She looked at him for another second — her golden, attentive eyes passing over him with a direct assessment most people would find uncomfortable — and then she simply moved.

She settled into the seat beside him with quiet efficiency, and then, as if it were the most natural conclusion in the world, she lay down, occupying her own seat and a good portion of his, her head positioned near his legs and her ears relaxing to the sides.

"Hey—" a boy in the row behind leaned forward. "That's my seat, I was just talking to my friend here."

Blake didn't open her eyes.

"Hey, Faunus!" a nearby girl tried. "You can't just—"

Her ears shifted slightly toward the voice, then returned to their previous position. Blake ignored it with such complete finality that the girl didn't know what to do and eventually gave up, muttering something to the person beside her.

Silence returned.

Blake felt the tension in the boy beside her — confusion, mostly, mixed with that hesitation of someone who didn't quite know how to react to a situation that wasn't in any manual. But there was something else too, something she perceived in a way she couldn't name: a steady presence, like solid ground.

'Comfortable,' she thought, letting her body fully relax. 'Very comfortable.'

And she fell asleep.

The silence lasted exactly as long as it took for the blond boy to fully process what had just happened. Then, in a low voice carrying a considerable amount of genuine disbelief, he said:

"What the hell."

The interior of the Vale airship was, objectively, quite good.

Spacious, well-lit, with comfortable seats and windows wide enough that the scenery outside didn't feel like a secondary detail. It was the kind of thing that, under normal circumstances, I would probably have appreciated without much effort.

The problem was that my circumstances were not normal.

The nausea had started shortly after the airship gained altitude, settling in with that irritating persistence of something that wasn't invited but decided to stay anyway. It wasn't the kind that turns your stomach inside out—more like a constant, mildly humiliating discomfort that stayed there, reminding me every few minutes that I preferred solid ground.

I tried looking at the scenery outside, which was a mistake. I tried closing my eyes, which was a different mistake. I ended up stuck in an uncomfortable middle ground, elbows resting on my knees and an expression that, without a doubt, wasn't doing me any favors.

Two days ago, Ruby had messaged me on the Scroll when she found out I had decided to go to Beacon. Her reaction was so enthusiastic that I literally had to pull the device away from my face to process it. She was somewhere on the airship now, probably with Yang, and I was almost certain she would show up eventually. For now, I was perfectly satisfied with my corner by the window and with trying to convince my stomach to cooperate.

That was when a completely random thought crossed my mind.

It wasn't mine.

[Fish. I really wanted a fish right now.]

I blinked.

I looked around, trying to identify the source, and that was when I saw her.

A girl with black hair down to her back was standing in the aisle, looking at me with an attention that was anything but subtle. She wore a black high-collared top with a white bow at the front, black pants, and short boots—simple, functional, the kind of outfit that didn't draw attention by itself but looked good on someone with enough presence to not need embellishment. On top of her head, two dark feline ears moved slightly, independent, as if they had a will of their own.

She's a Faunus, I thought automatically. She clearly drew attention, she was quite beautiful, yet she didn't show the slightest concern for the looks she was receiving.

Another thing I noticed: she didn't seem to be carrying any weapon. None visible, at least, and in an airship full of future hunters heading to Initiation, that was unusual enough to register.

Well, I wasn't carrying any visible weapon either, but let's not think about that.

She kept looking at me.

I kept being looked at.

"Do you want something?" I finally asked.

She didn't answer. She studied me for another second with those golden, serious eyes, as if confirming something she already knew, and then she simply moved. She settled into the seat next to mine—which belonged to a guy who had stood up to talk to someone in the row behind—with calm efficiency, and then, as if it were the most natural progression in the world, she lay down, taking up the entire seat and a considerable part of mine, her head positioned near my legs and her ears relaxing to the sides.

The owner of the seat protested. A nearby girl tried to say something. The ears moved briefly toward the voice and returned to their original position. Both of them eventually gave up.

The silence lasted exactly as long as it took for her thoughts to reach me with complete clarity.

[Comfortable. Very comfortable.]

And then she fell asleep. Just like that. No more.

I stared at her for a few seconds.

"What the hell."

There was no other appropriate response to that situation. I had witnessed a regressor nearly lose it in the middle of a square, confronted Roman Torchwick directly, and ended up in an interrogation room with Ozpin and Glynda all in the same night—but a complete stranger girl who simply decides to sleep with her head near my legs on public transport, that was in a category of its own.

I decided not to think too much about it for now. After all, I had already witnessed considerably more absurd things recently, and the nausea was still present enough to deserve priority attention.

I put my hand in my pocket and took out the deck of cards.

It wasn't my main deck—that one stayed stored away, reserved for when a situation truly required it, which rarely happened. This was the other one: the one I used to do tricks for kids from time to time, the one I had built carefully and with a kind of knowledge that wasn't entirely mine. A simple deck on the outside, ordinary cards at first glance, but ones that responded to my fingers in a way that was hardly coincidence.

I started shuffling.

It was something mechanical, repetitive, exactly the kind of thing that worked well against nausea—something to occupy the hands and give the mind a point of focus that wasn't the swaying horizon outside. The cards passed from one hand to the other in fluid arcs, splitting, cutting, coming back together. A riffle shuffle, then a one-handed cut, then a cascade that let the cards fall in a perfect fan before snapping back into place. It wasn't a performance, just distraction, but it still looked good anyway.

Some nearby students looked. I didn't pay much attention.

A card slid between my fingers and spun in the air before being caught by my thumb without me needing to look. The girl's ears beside me moved slightly, but she didn't wake up.

"HIII!"

I jerked back.

The voice came out of nowhere, too close and too loud for any reasonable warning. The deck almost slipped from my fingers—almost.

"That was AMAZING!" she said, at the same volume. "Are you a magician? You're a magician, right? I saw everything from back there—how did you make that card spin like that? Teach me! Or at least do it again! Do a trick!"

I opened my mouth.

"Do a trick! Do a trick! Do a—"

"Nora."

The voice came from behind her, calm and tired with the patience of someone who had developed that skill over a long time and a lot of practice. A dark-haired boy appeared in the aisle, with a serene expression that contrasted completely with the orange whirlwind in front of me.

"But Ren!" she turned to him with the same intact enthusiasm, pointing at me. "He's a magician! Did you see? The card spun in the air by itself!"

"I saw," the boy—Ren, now I knew—replied in a tone that neither confirmed nor denied any level of impression. He glanced briefly at me with a polite nod. "Sorry for the interruption."

"No problem," I replied.

It was true, there was no problem.

Nora had already turned back to me, eyes shining with the energy of someone who had absolutely zero intention of letting the subject die. I opened my mouth to answer the original question—the one she hadn't even let me answer yet—when I heard another voice, this one from a different direction.

"Jaune!"

This time I turned more calmly. Ruby was approaching down the central aisle with Yang beside her, her dark hair with reddish tips swaying with her quick steps. Beside her, Yang's blonde hair followed the motion. She waved when our eyes met.

Then her gaze dropped to the girl sleeping beside me.

She stopped.

[Blake...?]

The thought came loaded with a surprise that Ruby was clearly holding back on her face but not entirely in her mind. She looked at Blake, then at me, then at Blake again.

[Why is she sleeping next to him? Seriously, out of all people… she went straight to Jaune? But… that makes sense, in a way? Blake always had strange instincts… and thinking about it, she and Jaune got close way too fast in my previous life too. But still…!]

Yang tilted her head slightly as she approached, evaluating the scene with a growing smile.

"Huh. You made friends fast."

"She showed up, lay down, and went to sleep," I replied. "I don't have much information beyond that."

Ruby was still looking at Blake with an expression I would classify as conflicted. Something in her thoughts was deeper, heavier than the surprise of the immediate situation.

[She's here. She's still Blake, the Blake from before everything went wrong. And then… what happened to her? How did she reach the point of… no, stop. Now's not the time. She's here, she's fine, and that's what matters right now.]

But there was more. A fragment, quick and filled with a pain Ruby pushed down before I could fully see it.

[Why, Blake? Why did you do that? So many humans, so many Faunus, as if… as if something had broken inside you. I never understood. I screamed your name and you didn't…]

She cut the thought off herself.

I filed that away mentally without letting anything show on my face.

So the name Blake, which I had heard in Ruby's fragmented thoughts during our first meeting—that desperate scream—was this girl. And from what Ruby was clearly not thinking too hard about, something had happened to her in the previous cycle that Ruby didn't fully understand and carried as a weight.

I looked at Blake sleeping beside me with complete calm, ears relaxed, completely unaware of the rest of the airship.

And then the other part of Ruby's thought came, almost like a footnote.

[She's the Cat King. I only found that out much later, but it's her. But how the hell did she manage to hide that for so long? Ozpin probably suspected during Initiation, but she rarely got involved in anything big after that…]

Cat King.

I stayed silent for a second.

Cat King, then.

I looked at her again. At the way she had approached without hesitation, without apparent reason, and simply decided that my seat was where she wanted to be. At her thoughts when she settled in—comfortable, very comfortable—said with the naturalness of someone who wasn't performing anything, just stating what was true.

There was a reason for that, and I had an idea of what it was, even if I didn't want to think too much about it right now.

"Jaune."

I raised my gaze. Ruby was looking at me, her face a bit more composed than thirty seconds ago. She pointed at the cards in my hand.

"What were you doing with the deck?"

Before I could answer, Nora leaned forward with the same intact enthusiasm as before.

"He's a magician! I saw everything! The card flew in the air! He has to show a trick!"

Ruby blinked and looked at me with a gleam in her eyes that was different from Nora's enthusiasm—quieter, more attentive, like someone who knew there was another layer to it and was curious to see how far it went.

Yang was clearly enjoying the situation as a whole.

Ren maintained the same serene expression, which I was starting to interpret as his default state.

I looked at the deck in my hand. Then at the group in front of me. Then at Nora, who was about to repeat the request for the third time with the same intensity as before.

"Do you really want to see a magic trick?"

"SERIOUSLY?" Nora leaned even further forward, her eyes wide. "You're going to do it?!"

"I am," I confirmed, then looked at the rest of the group. "Anyone else want to see?"

Yang raised an eyebrow with that smile of someone who's amused but won't admit it.

"Depends on what it is."

"I do," Ruby said immediately, and there was something in her tone—not Nora's excitement, but a more contained, sharper curiosity—that told me she was paying attention for different reasons than everyone else there.

Ren said nothing, but he didn't move to leave either, which I took as silent agreement.

Some students in the nearby rows had already been watching since the card-in-the-air moment. I didn't worry about them.

"Alright." I straightened my posture slightly and looked at the cards in my hand. "Let's begin."

I shuffled the deck once, slowly, letting the dry sound of the cards meeting fill the space for a moment.

"I need a volunteer." I looked directly at Nora. "Since you're the one who asked."

She nearly jumped out of place. "ME! I'm the volunteer! Pick me!"

"I already did."

"GREAT!"

[This is amazing. I always knew magicians existed, but I thought it was just those circus ones doing obvious tricks from far away! This one is right next to me! Ren, are you seeing this? What kind of magic is he going to do?]

Ren was seeing it. His expression hadn't changed much, but there was something in his eyes that suggested genuine attention.

I spread the deck in a fan in front of Nora, face down.

"Pick one. Any one. Don't show me."

She ran her fingers over the fan with a level of concentration I didn't expect, as if the choice were extremely important. She carefully pulled a card and held it against her chest, looking at it like she was guarding a state secret.

"Memorized it?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"I AM!"

"You can put it back in the deck."

She did. I shuffled—three times, slowly, in front of everyone.

[There's no way he knows which one it is] Nora thought, her eyes following every movement of my hands. [I picked completely at random and he shuffled three times. There's no way. Unless…] she frowned slightly. [Semblance? Is it Semblance?]

I think you're already overthinking it.

Yang had her arms crossed, watching closely. The smile was still there, but more focused now.

[Okay, I'll admit I'm curious. He clearly knows what he's doing with those cards. The question is whether there's something more than technique.]

I placed the deck on my left palm, slightly fanned face down, and let my gaze pass over the group for a moment before continuing.

"Most people think magic is about hiding things." I ran my thumb along the edge of the deck, producing a rhythmic sound. "It's not. It's about showing exactly what people expect to see."

With a flick of my thumb, a card slid out from the middle of the deck and rose on its own, as if it had decided to do so.

Nora's mouth fell open.

It wasn't her card. It was a seven of coins, which I let hover at my fingertips for a second before turning it face down and returning it to the deck.

"That wasn't yours," I said, as if confirming something I already knew.

"It wasn't!" she confirmed.

[How did he do that?]

Yang's thought came stronger now, stripped of its earlier casual tone.

[That card literally came out on its own from the middle. I didn't see any movement that would justify that. Semblance?]

Seriously… why does everyone always blame Semblance when they don't understand what they saw?

Ruby stayed silent, her eyes on me with that same quiet focus.

[He's using a bit of magic. Not much—I'm only able to notice because I've seen magic used several times before. Most of it is real technique, but there's something there that isn't just sleight of hand. He was always like this, even before I understood what it meant.]

I continued.

I extended the deck to Nora again, this time face up.

"Now I need you to find your card."

She ran her finger along the fan, going through each card carefully, then stopped. She frowned.

"It's not here."

"Are you sure?"

She went through the fan again, slower. "I'm sure I put it back, but I can't find it."

"You did put it back," I replied. "Why don't you check your pocket?"

She looked at me.

"My pocket?"

"Right one."

Nora hesitated a bit, since her hand had already been in her right pocket for a while, but when she moved her hand slightly and felt the card, her expression turned into complete disbelief—and she froze. Then she slowly pulled her hand out. Between her fingers was a card.

The silence lasted exactly one second.

"WH—" she turned to Ren, eyes as wide as they could go. "REN! THE CARD WAS IN MY POCKET! HOW DID IT GET THERE!?"

[Magic. Is this real magic? HOW DID HE DO THAT?! I NEVER TOOK MY HAND OUT OF MY POCKET! How long was the card there, the whole time? BUT I DIDN'T FEEL ANYTHING!]

Yang let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a "no way," uncrossing her arms. "Okay. That was good."

Ren looked at the card in Nora's hand, then at me, and for the first time since I met him, his expression changed enough to register—not much, but enough to notice.

[Interesting.]

That was all he thought.

"Is that Semblance?" Nora asked, looking between me and the card like she was trying to solve a puzzle with invisible pieces.

"No," I replied.

"But how—"

"Simple tricks."

She stared at me. "Simple tricks don't put cards in people's pockets without them feeling it."

"Most tricks that seem impossible are simple when you know how they work," I said, and that was true enough to count as an answer. "The hard part isn't the trick. It's making you look in the wrong place."

[He's not being completely honest.] Yang thought, with the amused sharpness of someone who didn't know exactly what she was picking up on, but knew there was something there. [Semblance or not, there's something different about this guy. Am I being paranoid because Ruby seemed to like him…?]

I could live with that.

"One last one," I said, before Nora could form her next question.

I picked up the deck and shuffled again, this time with more flourish—a one-handed cut, a slow cascade, the cards opening in an arc in the air before snapping back into the stack with a clean sound.

Some of the students in the nearby rows had gathered closer without anyone asking, forming an informal semicircle around me.

I took the top card of the deck without looking. Held it face down for a second, letting the silence settle.

Then I turned it over.

Nora went completely still.

The card showed a portrait. Not a generic drawing, not an abstract symbol—a portrait of her, with that specific precision that left no room for doubt. Orange hair in twin braids. Wide green eyes. A smile that seemed too big for her face. Every detail in place.

The silence lasted a full three seconds.

"REN!" she exploded, turning to the dark-haired boy with the card raised like evidence of a crime. "I'M ON A CARD! IT HAS MY FACE! REN, LOOK!"

[Is this real magic? I can't think of an explanation! He didn't even know me a few minutes ago, so how did he have time to do this?!—]

"How and when did you have time to make this?" she turned back to me, still holding the card up. "You only saw me for a few minutes!"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," I replied.

"That's not an answer!"

"It's the only one you're getting from me right now."

Yang was laughing for real now, not even trying to hold it back.

"Okay, I have to admit. That was impressive."

Ruby looked at the card with a quiet smile on her face, her thoughts clear to me.

[He was always like this. Even when I didn't understand it back then. He would show a trick and I'd just be happy and never think to ask how. Now I know a little more than I did before… but I still don't know everything. Not yet.]

I flinched slightly at the intensity she put into that "yet."

Ren took the card from Nora's hands carefully, examined it for a second, and handed it back.

"Impressive," he said.

...

The airship began to slow down gradually about twenty minutes later, and the change was noticeable enough that the conversations around us lowered in volume as people turned toward the windows.

Beacon appeared first as towers. Then as walls. Then as an entire complex emerging from the morning mist with the presence of something that had existed long before any of its current occupants and would continue to exist for much longer.

Nora was pressed against the window with her hands against the vinyl, staring outside with wide eyes.

[Wow. It's huge!]

Yang was standing, her arms crossed again, with a different kind of smile than before—less teasing, more genuine. She looked at the towers for a second before glancing at Ruby beside her.

[I don't know if it's just because she's joining Beacon two years earlier, but since that night, Ruby has been acting a bit strange. When she got home, she hugged Dad, just like she hugged me when she saw me. It could just be a normal hug between sisters and between father and daughter, but I feel like there's something more.]

Damn, she noticed. I guess Ruby will have to be a bit more careful if she doesn't want them to find out she regressed from the future.

Ruby was looking at Beacon with an expression I couldn't fully classify. It wasn't nervousness. It wasn't pure excitement. It was something more complex, heavier—the expression of someone looking at a place they know in a way no one around them could understand.

[Back. I'm really back.]

Beside me, Blake's ears moved slightly.

She still hadn't woken up.

Seriously, what a lazy cat.

The Beacon auditorium was large enough to make anyone feel small without trying.

The seats were arranged in rows stretching from the center to the side walls, each occupied by a different face with a different expression—nervousness, excitement, arrogance, indifference. The high ceiling amplified sound in a strange way, turning the collective murmur of hundreds of students into a kind of constant background noise that filled the space without dominating any specific conversation.

I was seated near the central aisle, arms crossed and posture slightly reclined, observing the environment with the passive attention of someone who doesn't need to try to pick up what's happening around him.

Then I looked to the side.

Blake was leaning against my shoulder, asleep.

Again.

I watched her for a second. She had simply settled there with the same natural ease she had used to occupy the seat on the airship—no warning, no ceremony, as if that were the only logical conclusion available. Her ears were relaxed to the sides, her breathing slow and steady, and her expression was that of someone completely oblivious to the existence of an entire auditorium around her.

Some nearby students were looking. I ignored them.

Seriously, are all cats like this or is it just her? Or is it because she's the Cat King? Any of those options would explain the behavior, but none made the situation any less strange.

Out of curiosity, I tried listening to her thoughts.

[...fish... tuna... fresh... warm... comfortable...]

I stopped.

So it was warm. Alright, Blake.

I decided not to dwell on that and shifted my attention elsewhere. Ruby was sitting a few seats ahead, slightly to my left, with Yang beside her. From where I was, I could see her well enough for Mind Reading to work effortlessly.

Her thoughts were fast, jumping from one subject to another with that characteristic intensity of someone with too much information to process in too little time.

[Pyrrha. I need to be Pyrrha's partner this time.]

[They're going to throw us into a forest. The first student you make eye contact with becomes your partner. Last time, Weiss was my partner. We started off on the wrong foot, she thought I was immature, I thought she was difficult, but... she became one of the best friends I've ever had. I miss her. But now I need to find Pyrrha first. I need to.]

The tone of her thoughts shifted.

[Cinder killed Pyrrha. Ozpin chose her as the next Fall Maiden, and that put her directly in Cinder's path. If it weren't for that... Pyrrha probably would've lived a few more years. I won't let Pyrrha die again. I can't.]

Fall Maiden.

I let the name settle for a moment. The Maidens were a complicated subject for several reasons, none of which I needed to let show on my face right now.

[Amber is still alive. But I don't know how to heal her, so she'll end up dying anyway. The best option is probably for me to become the next Fall Maiden myself. I still need to figure out how to deal with Cinder before that.]

Ruby paused in her thoughts. Then, almost like an afterthought:

[I tested my eyes two days ago. I can't use them at the same intensity as before yet, but they work. They work well. If I needed to, no Grimm would get near me. But I don't want to show that to Ozpin yet. I can't fully trust him, not after everything he did. Ugh, what a mess... I've thought a lot about things, but I still don't have a clear picture!]

It seems that after taking a few days to think, the cheerful tone in her thoughts was absent for now. There's a lot on her mind, things she needs to figure out and resolve.

I really hope she doesn't lose all the joy she showed when we first met.

Still, I'm glad she doesn't blindly trust Ozpin. Dealing with that immortal old man required exactly that kind of caution.

[Ah, and with Jaune coming to Beacon...] her thoughts shifted tone again, becoming a little lighter. [Pyrrha's partner in my previous life was a guy named Darian something. I wasn't close to him. He wasn't incompetent, but he also wasn't very good in combat. I hope he manages to get into another team anyway.]

A pause.

[It would be great if I ended up on the same team as Jaune. That way I can keep a close eye on him. Make sure he doesn't...]

She didn't finish the thought. She pushed it down before it could fully form, but I had already caught enough.

I adjusted my posture slightly in the chair, not letting anything show on my face.

She was planning. Rearranging pieces on a board only she could fully see. It seems I underestimated her a bit just because this is her first regression.

A movement on stage interrupted my thoughts.

Two figures climbed the side steps with a calm that didn't require any announcement. Glynda Goodwitch first, with that posture that turned every step into a declaration of authority. Ozpin right behind her, coffee in hand.

The auditorium gradually fell silent, like a wave moving from front to back.

Ozpin stood at the center of the stage for a moment before speaking, his eyes scanning the auditorium with that attention that seemed casual but wasn't.

"I would like to be the first to say: welcome to Beacon."

His voice had that specific timbre that filled the space without forcing it—not loud, but present everywhere at once.

"Looking at you now, I see faces that carry different expectations. Some of you arrived here with a clear purpose. Others are still discovering what that purpose is. Both groups have a place here." He took a small sip of coffee before continuing. "Beacon is not a school that trains soldiers. It is a school that trains hunters. The difference may seem semantic, but it isn't. A soldier follows orders. A hunter makes decisions—decisions that can mean the difference between an entire city and its disappearance."

I have to admit, this bastard really knows how to manipulate people. 'Not a place that trains soldiers?' This damn...

[...]

Even Ruby was looking at him with restrained anger. I couldn't see her expression, but I hoped she wasn't showing too much or Ozpin would notice.

The silence in the auditorium was complete now.

"The Grimm do not negotiate. They do not retreat out of compassion, nor spare out of hesitation. What keeps them away from the people you will protect is not brute strength—it is competence. Preparation. And, above all, the ability to act when action is required, even when everything around you seems wrong."

He paused, letting that settle.

"Tomorrow begins the Initiation. Do not expect it to be simple. Do not expect it to be fair." A slight smile. "But expect it to be instructive."

His eyes swept across the auditorium one last time—and for a moment, they landed on me.

[It seems Mr. Arc really did decide to come here. I'm quite curious about this year. And... why is Miss Belladonna sleeping on his shoulder? That is... unexpected, I suppose.]

I looked away naturally before he could notice that I had noticed.

Ozpin stepped back, and Glynda took his place at center stage with her usual precision.

"The Initiation begins at dawn," she said, without preamble. "Tonight, you will use the Ballroom as temporary lodging. Luggage and equipment have already been delivered. Take this time to rest." A brief pause. "I strongly recommend that you do."

[Considering the track record of at least half of you in terms of discipline and common sense...]

The smile that almost appeared on my face stayed where it was.

...

The Ballroom had that kind of silence that isn't truly quiet—it was the silence of hundreds of people trying to sleep at the same time in a large space, each with their own version of restlessness. Sleeping bags spread across the floor, occasional murmurs, the distant sound of wind outside.

Blake had found a spot near one of the side columns and was curled up on her coat with enviable efficiency, sleeping as if the entire world were a secondary detail.

I lay on my back for a while, staring at the high ceiling of the hall, letting the surrounding thoughts dissolve into background noise.

A few days ago, I was wandering through Vale at night without any particular intention. I robbed back a thief who tried to rob me, got distracted by the city lights, and then met a girl with silver eyes standing in the middle of a square as if the world had frozen around her.

And now I was here.

There was a regressor with plans she was still organizing, carrying the weight of an end of the world only she had seen. There was the Cat King sleeping in a corner with complete peace of mind. There was Ozpin, with that careful curiosity he tried to hide behind a gentle smile. There was Cinder, a name I didn't yet have a face for, but that already carried weight.

And there was the fact that, at some point in the next few years, the world would meet its end. And that before that, my family and I were supposedly going to die.

I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow, the Initiation begins. And with it, everything else that comes along.

It wasn't exactly what I had planned for my life. But things rarely go as planned in most cases, so I just need to adapt.

Let's take this a little seriously.

Chapter Text

The first sign that something was wrong was the weight.

It wasn't uncomfortable, it was more like the feeling of waking up and realizing that the environment around you wasn't exactly what you had left before going to sleep. I opened my eyes slowly, letting my vision adjust to the high ceiling of the Ballroom, and then looked down.

Blake was sleeping with her head on my stomach.

I stayed still for a few seconds, processing it with the calm of someone who had already witnessed enough absurd things not to react immediately. She had started the night curled up near a column on the other side of the hall. I had seen that before closing my eyes. And yet, somehow, in the middle of the night, she had crossed the entire length of the Ballroom and decided that my stomach was an acceptable pillow.

Her ears were relaxed to the sides. Her breathing was slow, completely steady. She looked at peace with the entire universe.

I tried, more out of habit than expectation, to listen to her thoughts.

[...warm... heavy in a good way... not going anywhere...]

I stopped.

Right. At least she seemed satisfied with the situation. That was comforting in a way, even if it didn't solve the immediate problem of having a Cat King using my stomach as a pillow at five in the morning.

Even knowing why she was drawn to my presence, and I had a pretty clear idea of what it was, though I preferred not to think about it too deeply, there was a difference between understanding something rationally and waking up with it literally on top of me. Understanding didn't make the situation any less strange.

The hall was still relatively quiet. Most of the students were asleep, scattered across the floor in sleeping bags or using their luggage as makeshift pillows, faces turned upward or buried in folded coats. A few, however, were already awake, those who hadn't managed to sleep, probably, or those who simply woke up early out of habit.

And all of them were looking at me.

[Seriously? He already got a girlfriend on the first day?]

[...it's a Faunus, but man, he clearly doesn't care...]

[I knew it, I knew it since yesterday on the airship. Those two are definitely together.]

I sighed silently.

So this was going to be my reputation at Beacon. Fantastic. Exactly what I needed before the Initiation even started.

At least Nora, Ren, Yang, and Ruby still seemed to be asleep. Nora in particular was in a position that defied any reasonable ergonomic explanation, her arm draped over Ren's face, who slept with that same serene expression as always, as if it were the most natural state in the world. Ruby had her hood pulled over her face. Yang was lying on her side, her hair spread out in a considerable radius around her head.

Good. For now, only strangers were watching me. I could live with that.

I looked back at Blake.

She was still asleep with that absolute completeness, completely oblivious to everything around her. In the faint morning light, the details were clearer than they had been on the airship or in the auditorium—her dark hair slightly spread across my stomach, her calm features, her ears moving subtly with each breath as if they had a life of their own.

I looked at her ears for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

There was something genuinely curious about them. Not in a strange way, but in the literal sense: I had never seen cat ears up close before. I mean, I had seen those of a normal cat, but not those of a Beast King. And there was a part of me that couldn't help but notice the way they moved, completely independent of the rest of her body. It was as if they processed the environment even during sleep, registering sounds she would consciously ignore when awake.

Curiosity won before common sense could intervene.

I slowly moved my hand toward her head, with the care of someone trying not to wake something that clearly didn't want to be woken, and lightly ran my fingers along the base of one of her ears.

The reaction was immediate.

The ear turned toward the touch, not startled, not alert, but with that fluid, unconscious motion of a cat that had found the exact spot it wanted to be scratched. The other ear tilted slightly in the same direction, as if in solidarity. And then, in a movement I definitely hadn't expected, Blake let out a low, almost inaudible sound that could only be described as a purr.

I pulled my hand back immediately.

I looked around.

[They're definitely dating.]

[I swear if I had slept yesterday I could've gotten a spot on that side of the hall.]

Great. Wonderful. Very good.

I decided it was time to wake Blake before this turned into a diplomatic incident.

"Hey." I kept my voice low, not using her name, after all, technically I still didn't officially know it, only from hearing someone else's thoughts, which didn't count as an introduction. I lightly tapped her shoulder. "Time to wake up."

The response wasn't immediate. There was a pause of a few seconds during which absolutely nothing happened, and then her ears rose, first one, then the other, before any other movement. Her eyes opened next, golden and immediately focused, without any of the intermediate stages of disorientation most people went through when waking up.

She looked up, straight at me.

I looked back.

The silence lasted just long enough for her to assess the situation, position, environment, my expression—and apparently conclude that none of it required any urgent response. She didn't move right away. She just stayed there, looking at me with that same direct attention she had shown on the airship.

"Did you sleep here the whole night?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.

"No." She finally sat up, slowly, without hurry. Her ears adjusted to the new position. "I came later."

"From the other side of the hall."

"Yes."

"In the middle of the night."

"Probably."

She said it with the naturalness of someone stating the time of day, which it essentially was. I watched her for a second, trying to identify if there was any sign that she considered it remotely unusual. There wasn't.

"Why do you do this?" I asked. The question was genuine. "On the airship it was the same. In the auditorium too. Now here."

Blake was silent for a moment, looking at a point slightly above my head, as if consulting something internally.

"I don't really know how to explain it," she said at last. "It's just... comfortable. Being near you." A pause. "Not in a way I fully understand."

There was something completely disarming about that honesty. She wasn't being evasive, she wasn't trying to construct an elaborate explanation. She was just saying what was true for her, with the same simplicity as a cat climbing into someone's lap without bothering to justify it.

"Right," I said.

Some of the awake students were still watching. One of them had nudged the person next to them to draw attention to the scene. I ignored them.

"You don't care what people think," I observed, more as a statement than a question.

"Rarely." She glanced briefly toward the onlookers and then back at me with the same indifference she had shown on the airship. "Do you?"

"Not especially."

"Then it's settled."

There was a strangely solid logic to that.

I watched her for another second before deciding that if we were going to keep sharing the same space with any frequency, the least we could do was have a proper introduction. After all, it was a bit absurd to know someone's name from another person's thoughts and pretend otherwise.

"Since apparently we're going to keep running into each other like this," I said, "I think it would be appropriate to introduce ourselves." I inclined my head slightly. "Jaune Arc."

She looked at me for a moment—not surprised, but with attentive evaluation—and then nodded once.

"Blake Belladonna."

There was something curiously formal about the exchange, considering she had spent the last few hours sleeping on top of me. But it made sense for Blake in a way I was starting to understand: she wasn't casual out of carelessness, she was direct by nature. Everything had its proper place.

"Blake," I repeated, testing the name out loud for the first time in an official way.

She nodded again.

In my thoughts, I briefly thanked the fact that Nora was still asleep. If she had been awake at that moment, the noise level would have increased considerably.

The conversation that followed was, surprisingly, natural. Blake wasn't the type of person who filled silence out of obligation, she spoke when she had something to say and stayed quiet when she didn't, which made every exchange direct without being cold.

I found out that she had arrived early to the airship to secure a good place to sleep, which didn't surprise me. I also found out she had a book in her luggage that she hadn't started yet, about a man with two souls, which she had picked almost on impulse before leaving.

I didn't comment on the book's title.

"Do you always wake up this early?" she asked at some point, in a tone that wasn't quite curiosity but wasn't indifference either.

"Usually." I shrugged. "My father taught me how to fish when I was younger. Fishing usually requires waking up early. The habit stuck even after we stopped going as often."

She considered that with the same seriousness she gave everything.

"Fresh fish is better."

I looked at her.

"I agree," I said, with all the seriousness I could gather.

Her ears moved slightly. I decided not to interpret that as anything specific.

The light in the Ballroom was gradually getting brighter, and with it, the sounds of people waking up began to mix with the low murmur that already existed. It wouldn't be long before the entire place was in motion, and not long after that, the Initiation would truly begin.

I stood up, stretching my shoulders, and looked at Blake.

"Want to walk around a bit before this turns into chaos?" I gestured vaguely toward the rest of the hall, which was already showing signs that said chaos was on its way. "I imagine they prepared something to eat before the Initiation starts. It would be a bit cruel otherwise."

They wouldn't throw us into a forest full of Grimm without giving us any breakfast to restore our energy, right?

Blake looked at me for a second, then glanced at the hall around us, then back at me.

"That makes sense," she said, standing up with that smooth, effortless motion that seemed to be her default way of doing anything physical.

She picked up her coat from the floor and draped it over her shoulders. Her ears adjusted, checking the environment one last time.

And then, side by side, we walked out into the corridor.

Beacon's cafeteria was, objectively, one of the best surprises of the morning.

It wasn't the kind of place I expected to find in a school that essentially trained people to fight monsters. It was large, well-lit, with long tables arranged in rows spaced far enough apart that it didn't feel cramped even with the number of students who had already come in. The side windows let in the morning light at angles that made the place more pleasant than any cafeteria had a right to be. And the menu, we discovered upon arriving, was considerably more varied than I had anticipated.

Blake stood in front of the options panel for a length of time I would classify as slightly excessive, with that focused expression of someone making an important decision. The final result was a dish the cafeteria called grilled trout with herb rice and sautéed vegetables—fish as the main ingredient, with sides that basically existed to give context to the fish.

I went with something simpler: eggs Benedict with toasted artisan bread, which were basically poached eggs over slices of bread with a slightly rich sauce that I hadn't expected to find in a school cafeteria at six in the morning, but had no intention of complaining about.

We sat side by side at one of the tables near the windows, and for a few minutes the silence between us was the kind that didn't need to be filled. Blake ate with focus, her eyes lowered to her plate, her ears relaxed. I ate at my own pace, watching the cafeteria gradually fill with other students arriving little by little, most of them still carrying that slightly sleepwalking expression of people who had slept poorly—or not at all.

The cafeteria had been reserved for Initiation candidates that morning. The enrolled students would have the day off because of the Initiation and would eat at a different time, which meant that the entire space was ours for now, and even so, it already felt full enough to confirm just how much Beacon's Initiation attracted candidates from all over Remnant.

I was considering whether it was worth getting coffee when a voice cut through the general murmur of the cafeteria with the surgical precision of someone unfamiliar with the concept of moderate volume.

"MY FAVORITE MAGICIAN!"

Blake raised one ear.

I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Nora appeared from the side carrying a plate that was, structurally, a stack of pancakes tall enough to raise engineering concerns. Ren came behind her with a considerably more reasonable plate and that expression of someone who had already learned to accept that some battles weren't worth fighting.

[PANCAKES PANCAKES PANCAKES — oh, and the magician is here! Great start to the day!]

Ren stopped before sitting and looked at me and then at Blake with a polite nod.

"Good morning. May we sit here?" he asked, in the tone of someone who had developed the habit of asking out of courtesy even when the other person was already sitting down.

The other person in question was Nora, who was already seated.

"The seats don't have names," I said. "Sit wherever you want."

"Thank you." Ren sat down with his usual calm.

Nora had already arranged her utensils and was about to attack the top of her pancake tower when she looked at her plate, then at me, then at Blake's plate, with an expression I recognized as someone who had just remembered something important.

"Hey, before I start," she said, with that particular urgency of hers, "are the rumors true?"

I looked at her.

"What rumors?"

"That you're dating the faunus girl." She pointed at Blake with her fork, without ceremony. "This one."

"Nora, you can't just ask that out of nowhere," Ren said, looking at her.

"But Ren! I'm curious!"

Blake kept eating without lifting her gaze.

I sighed.

I looked around the cafeteria with the calm of someone assessing a situation. There were indeed looks. Some discreet, others not—students watching us at regular intervals with that specific curiosity of people who had heard something and were trying to confirm it visually. Two, in particular, were clearly discussing something while looking in our direction with the certainty of those who had no doubt about what they were seeing.

Seriously. It was the first day. We hadn't even gone through Initiation yet.

And then there were still people who thought prejudice against Faunus was the most absurd problem in the world. If it were true, what exactly would be the problem with a human dating a Faunus? No one ever answered that satisfactorily, because deep down there wasn't a satisfactory answer.

Before I could respond to Nora, a familiar voice echoed from the other side of the cafeteria.

"Jaune!"

Ruby was waving at me from a table a few rows away, with Yang beside her—and two more people I hadn't seen until that moment. I stood slightly to get a better angle.

The first was a girl with red hair tied in a high ponytail that reached almost to her waist, with naturally loose curls at the ends. She wore light green eyeshadow at the corners of her eyes, which were the same color. There was something in the way she was sitting, impeccable posture without rigidity, the kind that came from years of training, that made me recognize her before any introduction was made.

Pyrrha Nikos.

I didn't know her personally, but it was practically impossible to have spent any time in Mistral without knowing who she was. During my visits there—which had included, among other things, being thrown out of a few Mistral casinos—the way people talked about her was unmistakable. Four consecutive victories in the Regional Tournament. The pride of an entire city, treated with a kind of reverence she clearly hadn't asked for and that, judging by her posture now, probably felt more like a burden than an honor.

The second girl had long white hair tied in a high ponytail with a side braid on the right, decorated with a subtle silver tiara. Blue eyes, a posture that conveyed familiarity with formal environments. There was something in her features that made me immediately think of someone I had crossed paths with before, indirectly.

Winter Schnee. She should be Winter's sister. Weiss is her name, if I'm not mistaken.

That encounter with Winter had also started with being kicked out of a casino, this time in Atlas. The Schnees weren't hard to identify: white hair and blue eyes were a specific enough combination that the family was recognizable even without introductions. And where there were Schnees, there was money, there was politics, there was the Schnee Dust Company—the largest producer and exporter of Dust in all of Remnant.

Thinking about that now, while breakfast was being served before a forest full of Grimm, felt prematurely complicated.

Ruby and the others stood up with their plates and approached our table. They pulled chairs and sat down, and Ruby waved at me with that smile she used when she was genuinely pleased about something.

I sat back down.

"I'm glad you're here!" she said, looking between me and Blake and then to Nora and Ren with the energy of someone who had slept better than most.

[It was a bit hard to convince Weiss, but since Pyrrha agreed to eat with me and Yang, Weiss had no choice but to accept. I was so immersed in the conversation that I forgot about Jaune, good thing Yang reminded me and spotted him sitting there!]

I acted as if I hadn't heard that.

Weiss was looking around the table with that expression of someone assessing the situation and who hadn't yet decided what she thought. There was something slightly hesitant in the way she had sat—not discomfort exactly, more a kind of caution from someone who wasn't sure about the social context she had just entered.

Ren looked at Weiss with a polite nod.

"Schnee," he said simply. "From the Schnee Dust Company?"

He had probably recognized the traits.

"The same." Her tone was confident without being arrogant—she was used to the question and had a standard answer for it. "It's good to see people recognize it immediately."

"It's hard not to."

[The Schnee Dust Company is practically a monopoly on Dust across Remnant.] Ren thought, with the calm objectivity of someone simply noting a fact. [Interesting that she's here instead of following a more political or business path.]

I agree.

I glanced at Blake's plate for a second. She had ignored the group's arrival with the same indifference she gave most things that didn't require immediate action from her.

"Who are your friends?" I asked, looking at Ruby—technically to prompt the formal introductions, since I "still didn't know" their names.

"Ah!" Ruby leaned slightly forward, excited. "This is Pyrrha Nikos, a really nice girl! And this is Weiss Schnee! Not as friendly as Pyrrha, but she's still nice!"

"Hey!" Weiss exclaimed. "What do you mean I'm not as friendly!? And introduce Pyrrha properly, she won the Mistral Regional Tournament four times in a row!"

"Her winning the tournament four times in a row doesn't matter for an introduction!"

"Of course it matters!"

"Are you two seriously arguing about this?" Yang interrupted their argument.

Pyrrha smiled with a kindness that seemed genuine but slightly tired, like someone used to being introduced by her achievements before her name.

[I really prefer Ruby's introduction. It's nice to be introduced as just Pyrrha Nikos without those titles in front of my name. I'm already tired of that.]

Not mentioning her titles or achievements, got it. I made a mental note of that.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said, looking between Pyrrha and Weiss. "Jaune Arc."

Pyrrha nodded with a genuine smile. Weiss responded with a slightly formal nod, still calibrating how much cordiality that specific table deserved.

Yang rested her elbow on the table and looked at me with that smile of hers—the kind that signaled a tease was coming.

"Speaking of meeting people," she said, her eyes shifting from me to Blake with an intent so clear it didn't need introduction, "that rumor I heard on the way here… is it true?"

Nora immediately raised her fork.

"I asked that first! He didn't answer because you showed up!"

"Eh, what rumor?" Ruby asked, sounding genuinely out of the loop.

"You didn't hear because you ran off somewhere as soon as you woke up, Rubes. But basically, it's that Jaune is dating this kitty here." Yang gestured lightly toward Blake with her chin, still smiling.

Blake was finishing the grilled trout with her usual calm. She briefly looked up toward Yang, assessed the situation with her characteristic efficiency, and returned to her plate.

[Huh!? What!? How did this turn into that!? I just went out to look for Pyrrha because I didn't see her in the hall… but Jaune and Blake weren't there either… is that why they made this up!?]

Ruby's thoughts became confused.

"That's not true," I said, before the conversation could take a more complicated turn. And then, since the subject had come up anyway, I added: "Her name is Blake. Blake Belladonna."

Blake gave a single nod to the table without pausing her meal.

Yang raised an eyebrow, her smile widening slightly.

"Blake," she repeated, in the tone of someone filing away information for later use. "Nice. But then explain what everyone says they saw early this morning in the hall."

"She slept next to me," I said, with the same objectivity someone would use to describe the weather. "That's what happened."

"She slept next to you," Yang repeated.

"With her head on his stomach," Nora added, who had witnessed exactly zero percent of that, but had clearly heard the details somewhere between the hall and the cafeteria.

Weiss set her utensil down with a soft sound.

"That is…" she began, in the tone of someone choosing her words carefully, "a bit indecent, isn't it?"

Blake tilted her head slightly toward her, with a direct expression, and spoke.

"What's indecent about that?"

Weiss opened her mouth.

And then she closed it.

[She… really doesn't see any problem with that!?]

The thought came with a mix of disapproval and something close to genuine perplexity.

[How can you just sleep on top of someone in a hall full of new Initiation students? Does she seriously have no shame!?]

"It's a matter of…" Weiss tried again, more carefully, "social conventions."

Her thoughts and her words were quite different.

"I felt comfortable near him," Blake said, with the simplicity of someone explaining something obvious. "He didn't mind. I don't mind. So there was no problem."

The silence that followed had the typical air of a group processing a logic that was hard to refute, but didn't fit into any familiar framework.

[There are still problems, you stupid cat!]

Even though she thought that, Weiss didn't say it out loud.

Yang was the first to speak, and when she did, she was clearly holding back laughter.

"Fair enough."

Nora had already gone back to her pancakes with renewed enthusiasm, apparently satisfied with the outcome of the matter.

I looked at Ruby, who was blushing in a way she was clearly trying not to show.

[That was… a very direct way of saying it. Well, Blake has always been like that, straightforward without unnecessary filters—I think it has to do with her being the Cat King. But it's still a bit… I can't even imagine talking like that so calmly! But why does she feel like that around Jaune? In my past life they got close so quickly that I didn't understand it at the time, and now it's happening again, before Beacon even properly starts. What is this? Does it have something to do with her Cat King instincts? If so, why is she like this only with Jaune? I need to figure this out…]

She paused in her thoughts for a moment.

[But not today. Today is Initiation, so I can't get lost in thoughts like that. I can solve this mystery another time! For now, focus on the Initiation, focus Ruby Rose!]

I took a bite of the toasted bread and decided that was a good moment to let the topic die on its own.

The conversation around the table gradually normalized. Nora asked Pyrrha what it was like at the school she had trained at before deciding to join Beacon, which led to an exchange about preparatory academies that Ren followed in attentive silence. Weiss and Ruby exchanged a few words that were cordial without being warm—the kind of interaction that existed in the space between awkwardness and indifference.

Yang had been quiet for a few minutes, which was unusual enough to draw attention.

I glanced at her discreetly.

[Ruby really is different.]

The thought came with that perceptiveness Yang hid well behind her smile, but that was always there.

[Not in a bad way, I think, but… different. That whole thing about going to that Dust shop to stop a robbery alone, facing Roman Torchwick at fifteen. Dad almost had a heart attack when he found out. I almost did too, but I'm not going to admit that out loud right now.]

A pause in her thoughts.

[And then Professor Ozpin accepts her early, and Ruby comes home and hugs me again, the same way she hugged me when I called her in the street. She did the same with Dad. It's weird. Ruby has always been affectionate, but not like this… not with this intensity. It was like she hadn't seen us in a long time, which doesn't make sense, since I talked to her earlier, before she went to Vale.]

Good point. Ruby really did need to be more careful.

[And there's this handsome blond.]

Yang glanced briefly at me without looking like she was looking, with that specific observational skill she had developed out of necessity.

[He was there with her that night. Ruby talked so much about him in the days before coming to Beacon, plus she exchanged messages with him on the Scroll, and every time I tried to look, she just pushed me away. Does she like him? Like, really like him?]

She frowned slightly, taking a sip of juice.

[I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking it. But this thing about Ruby acting different since that night and this guy showing up that same night… that's too much of a coincidence for me to completely ignore.]

I thought about that briefly as I finished the eggs Benedict.

Yang had good instincts. What she was observing was real—she just didn't have the information needed to reach the correct conclusion. And as for Ruby liking me in the way Yang was considering, I had already thought about that before and reached a conclusion: if she really liked me romantically, I would have picked it up in her thoughts. What was there was genuine affection, intense concern, and a weight of guilt she carried for reasons I understood better than she imagined.

It wasn't the same thing.

The table had settled into a reasonably calm rhythm when footsteps approached from the cafeteria's side corridor, and a Beacon professor—someone I didn't recognize—wearing the school's formal uniform and holding a clipboard, stopped near the entrance and spoke loudly enough to cut through the entire cafeteria's murmur.

"Initiation candidates, attention." The voice was efficient, without unnecessary dramatics. "Initiation begins in forty-five minutes. Equip yourselves and proceed to the north courtyard within thirty. Further instructions will be given on site."

The cafeteria grew a few seconds quieter than it had been since I arrived.

Forty-five minutes.

I looked at Blake's plate—she had finished the trout and was now considering the possibility of a second serving with that calculating expression.

I looked at Nora, who had paused mid-pancake to process the announcement and now seemed torn between finishing breakfast and the instinct to run off and prepare.

I looked at Ruby, who had gone completely still, her eyes slightly distant with the weight of someone who knew exactly what was coming.

[Okay.]

Her thought was simple, clean, carrying that determination I had started to recognize as her way of preparing for something serious.

[Everything starts now. After Initiation ends, things will be different. They'll have to be.]

I pushed my plate away, leaned back slightly in the chair, and looked at the windows where Beacon's morning was beginning to take shape under clear, cloudless light.

Forty-five minutes.

Time to begin.

The northern outer courtyard of Beacon sat on a rise overlooking the Emerald Forest below—not a true mountain, but high enough that the forest looked like a dense, dark carpet stretching as far as the eye could see.

The trees were ancient and tall, their crowns closing into an almost continuous canopy that blocked much of the light and gave the place the atmosphere of something that had existed far longer than any human structure nearby. From where I stood, I could see mist moving between the trunks in the deeper areas.

The students were lined up along a series of launch platforms—inclined metal structures, each with a pressure mechanism at the base that essentially catapulted a person toward the forest. Simple, efficient, and designed in a way that clearly showed whoever built it had no concern whatsoever for the comfort of whoever would be launched.

Glynda stood off to the side with her clipboard and her usual expression. Ozpin was in the center, with his coffee.

Seriously, what the hell is in that coffee for him to be so addicted?

"The Emerald Forest," he began, his voice filling the space without strain, "is one of the oldest and least disturbed environments in Vale. That has its advantages and disadvantages." A pause for a sip of coffee. "The advantage is that the local fauna is varied, and the Grimm inhabiting the area are considerably more interesting than those you faced in simulations at your former schools. The disadvantage is the same."

Some students exchanged glances.

"You have spent years preparing for this moment at your respective schools. That preparation was enough to get you here." Another sip. "Whether it will be enough for what comes next, we will soon find out."

Years of preparation.

I made a mental note that I had personally made it this far with no training school, no formal preparation program, and zero structured combat experience. I had my deck of cards, I had Mind Reading, and I had a set of abilities that were functional but had absolutely nothing to do with Beacon's standard curriculum.

Not necessarily a problem. But it was a detail worth keeping in mind.

"As for partners," Ozpin continued, and his tone shifted slightly—still calm, but with the weight of someone about to say something that would provoke a reaction, "the first person you make eye contact with in the forest will be your partner for the four-year duration of the course."

The silence that followed lasted exactly three seconds before the collective murmur began.

Some students looked genuinely surprised. Others processed it with the careful expression of someone recalculating plans made in advance. One or two looked mildly panicked.

[The first time I heard this, I shouted that it was completely insane.]

Ruby's thought came with a kind of emotional memory attached to it.

[But this time I already knew, so it's fine. I just need to find Pyrrha before anyone else. Fortunately, I more or less know where she'll land—I really hope it's still the same place, since Darian ended up mentioning it in a conversation. I'm going to feel a little bad about it… but I don't have a choice. Having Pyrrha as my partner will help a lot.]

I already knew about this since the auditorium, when I had read those thoughts of hers. Which meant the only thing I needed to do was be careful about who I looked at first when I landed. I wanted a partner I knew, preferably. Someone who wasn't completely random.

[Ah, I guess it's also a good idea to look for Jaune after that! In the previous cycle he mentioned he didn't have any kind of combat training, so he might be in danger! Thinking about it that way… maybe it's better if I partner with him? If Pyrrha is on my team, I think that won't be a problem…]

She was really thinking a lot about this.

"Teams of four," Ozpin resumed, "will be formed from the pairs established during the primary mission. The specific criteria will be determined based on your performance."

He paused one last time, looking along the line with that attention that seemed passive but clearly wasn't.

"The mission is simple: retrieve the relics from the abandoned temple at the heart of the forest and return to the extraction point."

Relics.

The word carried a particular weight when spoken by Ozpin that made me think, for a moment, of things that were definitely not game pieces. But then—

[Relics. Just chess pieces, in practice.]

His thought came with that light, ironic tone of someone who had repeated similar phrases many times.

[It's nice when a simple word sounds so appropriately important.]

I looked ahead, keeping my expression neutral.

Chess pieces.

He had said that about the relics, but it wasn't hard to imagine the same reasoning applied to the people in front of him. In fact, that damn immortal made it quite clear in his thoughts—after all, he had no idea there was someone here who could hear everything he didn't say out loud.

...

The launches began one by one.

Each platform fired with a sharp metallic sound, and the student in question disappeared over the treetops in a trajectory that combined momentum with gravity in a way that seemed to work in theory. Some screamed. Most didn't. Nora made a sound that was hard to classify between excitement and terror and was probably both at once.

I watched, mentally calculating the trajectory of each launch, until Glynda reached my name on the list.

"Jaune Arc."

I stepped onto the platform. Glynda stood beside the mechanism with her clipboard and that professional expression of someone who had seen everything.

"You know," I said, looking toward the forest ahead as I positioned myself, "this is technically the first time we've met without some kind of problematic situation involved."

Glynda looked at me.

"Mr. Arc," she said, in that sharp, precise tone she used when refusing to be provoked, "I am about to launch you into a forest infested with Grimm."

A pause.

"Perhaps it isn't that different."

The mechanism fired before I could respond.

...

The air cut across my face at an angle that made it hard to keep my eyes fully open. The forest was rushing up beneath me as the trajectory reached its peak and began to curve downward, the treetops shifting from distant carpet to immediate obstacle at a speed I was fairly certain exceeded anything reasonable.

There were several ways to land in a situation like this.

Most hunters used Aura for basic cushioning—creating a protective layer to absorb the impact and ensure their bones stayed where they belonged. Efficient, direct, and technically sufficient for what was needed.

But Aura was capable of much more than that.

Most people used it in predictable ways: healing, protection, fuel for their Semblance. More experienced users could apply it to perception—sensing the presence of other auras nearby, maintaining a passive awareness of their surroundings. Enhanced physical resilience was another common use, general durability, the ability to absorb damage that would break a normal human.

All of these were valid applications. None of them were particularly creative.

I could say with reasonable confidence that there wasn't a single living being in Remnant who knew and used Aura in more varied ways than I did.

It wasn't arrogance—it was a practical conclusion based on what I had discovered about the subject over time, and which I hadn't shared with anyone, partly because explaining how I had arrived at that knowledge would lead to questions I didn't want to answer right now.

What I needed at that specific moment was to control my descent.

I focused my Aura not as a static shield, but as something more directed—a controlled, adjustable pressure around my feet and legs, as if I could create resistance against the air at specific angles.

It was the kind of application most people had never attempted because they had never considered it possible—and it worked because Aura responded to intent with a precision that depended on how well you understood what you were asking it to do.

The trajectory adjusted.

Not dramatically—I wasn't flying, I wasn't creating any kind of spectacle that would draw more attention than necessary. It was more of a subtle correction, something that from the outside would probably just look like I had calculated my angle of descent well. The canopy opened into a small clearing directly below me, which was convenient, and I guided my landing in that direction with the confidence of someone who had practiced this enough to have a reasonable expectation of how it would end.

The expectation was reasonably accurate.

The execution was about ninety percent correct.

The remaining ten percent manifested at the exact moment of impact, when the angle was slightly off, my feet touched the ground a bit beyond the ideal point, and the remaining momentum decided the most physical solution was to send me rolling forward through a considerable amount of damp foliage before I came to a stop on my back, staring up at the treetops.

I lay there for a second.

Then I got up.

I brushed the leaves off my clothes with the dignity of someone who had planned exactly that.

"Almost perfect landing."

I could have used a bit of magic to guarantee a cleaner result. In fact, it would have been simple—a small, controlled application, and the outcome would have been considerably more elegant. But I was fairly sure Ozpin was observing from above in some way. While I knew it would be impossible to hide my ability to use magic forever, there was still a difference between inevitable and immediate.

Ozpin asking questions about magic on the first day at Beacon was a complication I preferred to delay as much as possible.

So ninety percent had been enough.

I looked around.

The clearing was small, surrounded by ancient trees whose roots emerged from the ground in irregular curves. The light filtering through the canopy had that specific greenish tone of dense forests. It was quiet.

No visible Grimm.

At least there was some luck in that.

I quickly oriented myself—the mission was the heart of the forest, where the temple was located. I had a general direction, I had a reasonable amount of time before anything urgent demanded attention, and I had Mind Reading working passively, picking up any presence nearby that had thoughts to hear.

For now, silence.

I started walking.

The Scroll was positioned between them on an improvised flat surface, displaying a grid of small images that automatically alternated between the different cameras distributed throughout the Emerald Forest. They were discreet to the point of being nearly invisible—lenses the size of a coin, fixed to trunks and branches at angles that covered most of the Initiation area without creating unnecessary blind spots. Neither the students, too distracted with landing and immediate orientation, nor the Grimm, who had no interest in human technology, would notice them.

It was, Glynda had internally admitted a few times, an elegant solution to a considerable logistical problem.

She stood beside Ozpin, her eyes scanning the images with the methodical attention of someone trained to process a large amount of information simultaneously.

Yang Xiao Long had landed with a smile more suited to a leisurely afternoon than to a forest filled with Grimm, and was already moving inward with the confident energy Glynda had noticed since the airship.

Pyrrha Nikos had executed a technically flawless landing—controlled, precise, with no wasted movement—and was assessing the terrain with the calm expression of someone who had done this before in different settings.

Weiss Schnee had landed with less grace than she probably expected, but with more competence than most of the other candidates.

'An interesting class this year,' Glynda thought, scanning from one camera to another. 'Perhaps above average, overall.'

But there were two names that held her attention more than the others.

Ruby Rose had activated her Semblance practically the moment she touched the ground. The cameras could barely keep up with her—what appeared was essentially a trail of red petals dissolving into the air between the trees, and then she was already at another point on the map. The speed was extraordinary for someone her age, and there was something about the way she moved that didn't seem entirely consistent with a fifteen-year-old beginner, even an exceptionally talented one.

She remembered that Ruby had faced the criminal Roman Torchwick for some time. Although he managed to escape, his henchmen had been arrested. Glynda had only needed a brief glance to realize the thugs had been defeated quickly and efficiently.

'This requires closer observation,' she thought. 'There's something that doesn't quite add up.'

And then there was Jaune Arc.

Glynda shifted focus to the camera showing him, lightly crossed her arms, and remained silent for a moment.

Ozpin had personally invited that young man to Beacon, which was unusual enough. More unusual still was the fact that he had no history in combat schools, no record of formal training, no preparation program. The only files that existed about him, aside from his family, involved casinos and corresponding reports from furious owners who could never prove accusations of cheating.

Normally, Glynda would have argued against the admission. And she had tried to do so after he and Ruby left the interrogation room, using the professional tone she employed when disagreeing, while acknowledging the decision was not hers alone.

She had no complaints about Ruby; the girl seemed quite promising, though far too reckless. But that they could correct.

Ozpin had listened, nodded, and maintained the invitation for Jaune Arc to join Beacon regardless.

Which, in itself, was enough to draw attention.

'Why does he seem familiar to me?' The thought came the same way it always did whenever she saw him—without a clear origin, without a corresponding memory. 'Like someone who was supposed to be somewhere and has finally returned. It doesn't make sense. I never met him before the casinos.'

She dismissed the thought with the practical efficiency of someone trained to separate what was verifiable from what was not.

"You've been looking at Arc for a few minutes," Ozpin said beside her, in the casual tone of someone making a neutral observation.

"I'm observing the candidates," she replied.

"Naturally." He took a sip of coffee. "So am I."

Glynda briefly turned her gaze to him, then back to the Scroll.

"What teams do you think we'll have this year?" she asked, shifting the angle of the conversation with the ease of someone practiced in not letting Ozpin steer every exchange where he wanted.

Ozpin considered for a moment, his eyes scanning the images with that attention that always seemed distracted and never was.

"Some interesting combinations," he said. "Miss Xiao Long and Miss Schnee seem to be converging on the same area. If they make eye contact first…"

"That would be an unlikely pair."

"The most unlikely sometimes work best." He tilted his head slightly. "Don't you think?"

Glynda did not answer that directly.

'Yang Xiao Long and Weiss Schnee,' she thought, evaluating what she knew of the two. 'Very different personalities. But Schnee has discipline and Xiao Long has instinct. There are worse combinations.'

One of the images on the Scroll showed exactly that—Yang and Weiss at nearby points on the map, moving in directions that were gradually converging. There was no way to know yet if eye contact had happened, but the proximity made it likely.

"Miss Nikos will likely head straight for the temple," Glynda said. "She has the training and instinct for navigating unfamiliar terrain."

"I agree." Ozpin glanced at the corresponding camera. "The question is who she will pair with."

'And Miss Rose,' Glynda thought, watching the trail of petals the cameras intermittently captured. 'She's moving with a very clear sense of direction for someone who has never been in this forest. As if she knows where to go.'

That thought lingered for a moment before she filed it alongside the one about Jaune Arc, in the category of things that required more data before any conclusion.

Ozpin switched one of the Scroll's images to a different camera.

"There's something I want you to see," he said, in the tone he used when he already knew what he was about to show.

The camera showed Jaune Arc walking through the forest with his hands in his pockets.

Glynda frowned slightly.

"He is…" she began.

"Walking," Ozpin confirmed. "Yes."

It wasn't the lack of urgency that stood out, though that was notable in itself. It was the posture—completely relaxed, with none of the physical signs of alertness that anyone with basic training would display in a forest with Grimm. Hands in pockets. Casual stride. Head slightly tilted, as if in thought or simply enjoying the walk.

'Either he has no awareness of risk,' Glynda thought, 'or he has enough awareness to know the immediate risk is minimal. The second option implies some kind of environmental perception that isn't obvious.'

"You noticed something else," she said, more as a statement than a question, looking at Ozpin.

"He didn't bring any equipment," Ozpin said. "No visible weapon. No recognizable combat item." A pause. "Miss Belladonna didn't either."

"Miss Belladonna appears to be a cat faunus, so she likely relies on her own body. But Mr. Arc…"

'Is a human with no formal training, no weapons, walking through a Grimm-infested forest with his hands in his pockets.' Her thought carried that mix of exasperation and reluctant curiosity the young man had developed a specific talent for provoking in her. 'What exactly are you planning, Mr. Arc?'

Ozpin was watching the camera with an attention different from what he gave the other candidates. More focused. More specific.

The image shifted slightly as Jaune stopped.

Ahead of him, two dark shapes emerged from between the trees—Beowolves, the most common Grimm in the Emerald Forest. Large creatures with black fur and white bone plates covering their heads and shoulders, with red eyes reflecting the little light filtering through the canopy. Two of them, positioned at angles suggesting they had detected his presence seconds earlier.

Glynda straightened slightly.

Jaune took his hands out of his pockets.

In one of them was a playing card.

'What—' Glynda leaned forward almost imperceptibly. 'A card? He's going to use a playing card against two Beowolves?'

Ozpin's eyes narrowed slightly, his attention fully focused on the image.

The visible card was the Five of Diamonds.

The card emitted a brief glow, almost imperceptible in the camera's quality—the kind that could easily be mistaken for a trick of light between the leaves if not for what happened immediately afterward.

The card disappeared.

In its place, in Jaune Arc's hands, there was a scythe.

The silence between Glynda and Ozpin lasted exactly as long as it took her to process what she had seen.

"Alchemy?" she murmured, more to herself than to him.

"Alchemy," Ozpin confirmed, with a calmness that suggested it hadn't surprised him as much as it had her—which, in itself, was informative.

Glynda glanced at him briefly. "You knew?"

"I suspected as much." He took a sip of coffee. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about your magic tricks with children in Vale, right? Alchemy would explain some of what people have described."

'Alchemy.' Glynda turned her attention back to the camera, where Jaune held the scythe with the naturalness of someone who had done this before. 'It's an ancient art. Very few people practice it with any real level of competence—you could count them on both hands. And yet, it's quite surprising that he's capable of using alchemy at such a level…'

She didn't finish the thought, because there wasn't a precise enough word for what it was.

Ozpin, however, was looking at the image with something beyond recognition.

'There was something else,' he thought, eyes fixed on the camera. 'A second before the card transformed, there was a flicker of Aura. Different. It wasn't just alchemy. It was as if the Aura was doing something beyond simply fueling the process.' A pause. 'It could be his Semblance. I would need to see more to be sure. But if it is…'

"Semblances can be as complex as they are simple," he said aloud, more to himself than to her.

Glynda looked at him.

"You think it might be his Semblance."

"I'm considering the possibility." He tilted his head slightly. "Which would make it even more interesting to understand how it works."

On the camera, Jaune was positioning the scythe in a way that made it clear he didn't have much practice with it—he seemed to be trying to imitate someone.

The Grimm were advancing slowly, with a strange caution that Ozpin noticed.

Ozpin watched in silence for a moment.

"Interesting," he said.

Chapter Text

COVER:

The Emerald Forest had that kind of silence that wasn't the absence of sound, but rather a layer of small overlapping noises—leaves shifting with the wind filtering through the canopy, something distant moving among the branches, the steady rhythm of footsteps against the earth.

It was the kind of place most people would find unsettling. I found it reasonably calm.

I kept walking with my hands in my pockets.

It wasn't carelessness. I had spent years away from any combat school—Preparatory Academies, as they were called, the formal institutions that trained candidates for Beacon and similar schools. I had never enrolled in one, never felt the need. But not having attended an Academy didn't mean being defenseless, and I knew that better than anyone who might question my presence in that forest.

Besides, I was reasonably confident that no particularly catastrophic Grimm inhabited this specific area. Ozpin wouldn't throw Initiation candidates into an environment where the probability of loss was high enough to be inconvenient. Strategic, yes. Challenging, certainly. But there was a difference between difficult and suicidal, and Beacon needed its students alive.

I passed by a row of old tree trunks covered in moss, roots emerging from the ground in curves that made the terrain slightly uneven. Light filtered through the canopy at oblique angles, creating that specific pattern of brightness and shadow found in dense forests. Technically beautiful, if you could ignore the fact that there were Grimm somewhere nearby.

That's when I saw them.

Two dark shapes emerging between the trees ahead of me, moving with that specific cadence I recognized even before I could make out the details. Beowolves—the most common Grimm in this region—large wolves with black fur and white bone plates covering their heads and shoulders like armor their own bodies had grown. Red eyes that captured and reflected any trace of available light. Claws that could crack stone if applied with enough force.

I knew more about Beowolves than most textbooks contained. Not because I had studied, but because certain knowledge came in ways I preferred not to explain in detail right now.

What made me pause wasn't the Grimm themselves, but the way they were moving.

Slow. Cautious.

Grimm were drawn to negative emotions—fear, anger, despair. It was their nature, something that existed at the most fundamental level of what they were. They had no souls, carried none of the internal complexities that made creatures with souls act unpredictably. They were, in essence, forces of destruction that responded to specific stimuli with near-mechanical consistency.

Cautious wasn't part of the standard repertoire.

At least, not for these Grimm.

And yet there they were, watching me with something close to hesitation, keeping a distance no Beowolf should maintain when facing a single unarmed person in the middle of a forest.

I had an idea why. I chose not to dwell on it right now.

I took my hands out of my pockets.

The card was already in my right hand—not the trick deck, but the other one. My main deck. The one that had belonged to the previous holder, passed down to me in a way I also preferred not to explain in detail right now. Cards that responded to something beyond mere mechanical intent.

The card in my hand was the Five of Diamonds.

I focused for a second, letting the card respond to what I was asking of it, and a brief, subtle glow appeared before the paper disappeared, replaced by something entirely different in my hand.

The scythe was black with red details along the curved blade—an appearance I had found considerably more interesting than expected when I first saw it. Technically more aesthetic than functional, though still lethal, but there was something satisfying about having a weapon that looked good. Ruby would probably agree, considering the overall aesthetic of her equipment choices.

Speaking of Ruby, her scythe transformed into a sniper rifle and could use Dust projectiles in both forms with a force I had observed closely enough to appreciate just how absurd it was. That shot she used as propulsion to launch herself toward the aircraft Roman escaped in had been, objectively, one of the most creative uses of recoil I had ever seen.

My scythe did none of that.

Which was perfectly reasonable, considering I had never held a scythe in my life. And there was also the fact that I hadn't placed this scythe into the card myself, just like everything else in the deck I had "inherited."

The Beowolves decided to stop hesitating.

The first came from the left, faster than its previous caution suggested, claws extended in an arc aimed at my torso. I dodged to the right—long step, maintaining balance—and swung the scythe in a motion I had imagined would be smoother than it actually was.

The blade passed well above the Beowolf's neck.

I missed by a good thirty centimeters.

Ruby made that look easier than it really was.

The second took advantage of the opening, coming from the right, low, aiming for my legs. I jumped—not particularly gracefully, more instinct than planning—and the Beowolf slid beneath me. I landed slightly off-balance, steadied myself with more effort than should have been necessary, and stepped back twice to create space.

Alright. Recalibrate.

The scythe was long. The reach was greater than I was intuitively accounting for. And the weight distribution was unlike anything I had used before—all the weight was in the blade, which meant the movements required more commitment than I was giving them.

Well, I couldn't forget that Ruby was mentally 25 years old. She had far more experience than any other student, maybe even more than some teachers, considering she fought to prevent the end of the world.

It had been naive of me to think I could replicate what she did so easily.

The first Beowolf reoriented and came head-on, more aggressive now that the hesitation was gone. I raised the scythe to block—metal against bone and fur, the impact traveling through the shaft into my arms with a force that tested my grip—and then pushed, using the contact as leverage to rotate my body and bring the blade across its flank in a motion that, this time, was calculated correctly.

It worked.

The blade cut through the side bone plate with enough resistance to tell me it would have been problematic without the extra force Aura provided. The Grimm recoiled, destabilized, the markings on its plate partially visible before the white began to fragment.

The second was already moving.

They attacked together with coordination that suggested they had hunted as a pair before—though I was sure they hadn't. One came at an angle, the other used the distraction to find an opening. It was efficient, and it took me a second to recognize the pattern before adapting.

When the second Beowolf advanced from the left flank while the first regrouped, I didn't dodge. Instead, I redirected my Aura into the hand holding the shaft—not as a shield, but as a localized strength amplification—and used that added force to turn the scythe's shaft into a defense, swinging it horizontally to intercept the Beowolf mid-leap.

The impact was significant—for both of us.

The Beowolf was knocked aside, landing awkwardly among the roots, taking a moment to reorient. My arms registered the impact in a way that, without Aura absorbing part of the force, would have been genuinely problematic.

The first was circling now, more cautious. I let it, using the time to adjust my grip and recalibrate distance—this time with more respect for the weapon's actual length. When it entered the angle I had identified as optimal, I advanced instead of waiting, striking in a downward arc that used the blade's weight instead of fighting it.

The bone plate on its shoulder gave way.

It didn't fall immediately—it took two more movements, an improvised block with the shaft and a lateral strike exploiting the opening—but it fell. Dissolving into the characteristic black smoke, bone markings disappearing with the rest.

I had learned very quickly that using a scythe conventionally against a single Beowolf was viable with enough attention. Two at once, while still learning the weapon, was another level entirely.

When the second Beowolf advanced, I let it commit to the leap before redirecting my Aura differently—this time downward, into my feet, creating enough resistance to shift my position laterally faster than my normal physical speed would justify. The Beowolf landed where I had been half a second earlier, and I was already at its flank, the scythe descending at an angle toward its neck.

The second Beowolf dissolved as well.

I stood still for a moment, letting the forest's silence return.

So. Scythe: not recommended for beginners without prior instruction. Information confirmed.

Ruby would probably have handled those two Beowolves in under two seconds, though comparing myself to her wasn't exactly fair. She'd probably handle an entire army of weak Grimm without trouble.

That said, I could also deal with them without much difficulty if I used a weapon I was more familiar with. I was just really curious about using a scythe after seeing Ruby fight Roman's goons—and Roman himself. And since it was just two Beowolves, it was perfect for testing. If there had been a larger number, like they usually travel in, I would probably have run or used something else.

Running would definitely have been the best option.

I lightly shook my arms, checking my shoulders, and looked at the scythe in my hand.

It wasn't the most convenient weapon for someone who had never trained in structured combat. But there was something about its balance, the specific weight of the blade, that I suspected would feel more natural with practice. Ruby had reached the point where she used it as an extension of her own body. I had reached the point of not missing by thirty centimeters.

It was a start.

"It really was you."

The voice came from behind—calm and direct, without excessive surprise, but carrying the weight of someone confirming a suspicion.

I turned.

Blake stood a few meters away, her ears oriented toward me with that independent attentiveness I had learned to recognize as her default state when evaluating something. She looked at me, then at the space where the Beowolves had been, then back at me.

"Were you following me?" I asked.

"I was following the feeling I started having when you showed up," she said, with that direct honesty that didn't bother with qualifiers. "It led me to you."

Okay… I get why, but this is getting a little unsettling.

I looked at her for a second. She looked back with that same unfiltered expression.

I sighed and let a small smile form.

"Well. Looks like we're partners, then."

"Looks like it," she replied.

Her gaze dropped to the scythe in my hand, lingering there with the kind of open curiosity she didn't bother hiding.

"Where did the scythe come from?"

I smiled.

I focused for a second, letting the scythe respond to the reverse process—the black and red metal dissolving into a brief glow until the Five of Diamonds card was back between my fingers. I raised it to eye level with the most deliberately theatrical gesture I could manage.

"Ta-da."

Blake looked at the card. Then at me.

"Alchemy," I said, in a tone that expected a more enthusiastic reaction. "Pretty impressive, right?"

"It is," she agreed, with her usual casualness.

Seriously? You couldn't be a little more impressed?

[Alchemy… I've heard about it a few times from my father, but I don't really know what it is. Still, I know it's rare.]

"Nowadays it's pretty limited," I said, pocketing the card as we started walking again. "Few people know it at any real level of competence."

And there was a specific reason for that.

Alchemy, at its core, was done with the help of magic. Not Aura, not Semblance—actual magic. The kind that had existed in Remnant in a past so distant most people treated it as convenient mythology. Back when every human could use magic, alchemy was common practice among many mages. It had reached a point where scrap metal was more valuable than gold in certain regions, because transmuting gold was simple enough to make it abundant. Raw metal, on the other hand—that had real utility no alchemy could easily replicate.

With magic's disappearance, alchemy faded along with it.

A considerable loss, when you think about it.

What remained was a version some people could practice by substituting magic with Aura—functional, technically, but nowhere near as versatile. The result was a much weaker, much more limited alchemy that required disproportionate concentration for results that, in ancient times, would have been trivial. Storing entire objects in cards was considered extremely high-level nowadays.

Which said a lot about the current state of the art.

And the fact that I can do it because I use magic, not Aura, is a detail I'd rather keep out of any conversation—for now.

"Most people assume it's a Semblance," I said aloud, leaving the rest unsaid. "It's easier than explaining alchemy to someone who's never heard of it."

Blake considered that for a moment, her ears subtly adjusting to the environment as we walked.

"Makes sense," she said. "Semblances manifest strangely often enough that people don't question it much."

Exactly the kind of cover that works.

The conversation naturally shifted to the immediate objective—the temple, the relics, the general direction we needed to reach them. Blake navigated unfamiliar terrain with effortless ease, her ears doing most of the environmental monitoring while her eyes covered what lay ahead. I kept Mind Reading running passively, picking up any nearby presence with thoughts to hear.

For now, just forest.

...

...

The Ursa came out of the shadows without warning as we walked through the forest.

There were no thoughts to pick up—Grimm had no souls, produced nothing that Mind Reading could detect in advance. What I noticed was the peripheral movement to my right, large and fast, at the exact moment its front paws were already in the air, aimed at me.

Ursa. Dense black fur, bone plates covering its head and frontal torso, the type that grew beyond standard size when given enough time without opposition. Not the smallest one I'd seen.

I started to react.

Blake was faster.

It wasn't a movement I could fully follow in detail—she was at my side, then in front of me, and then her arm extended in a strike that, judging by the trajectory and the sound of impact, carried a force that had no reasonable relation to her size.

The Ursa disintegrated.

It wasn't knocked down. It wasn't pushed back. It simply ceased to exist as a cohesive structure, black smoke dispersing before any fragment could even touch the ground.

The wind generated by the motion continued forward.

Two trees ahead toppled with a crash that echoed through the entire forest.

The silence that followed had that specific quality of an environment that had just processed something that redefined its understanding of what was physically possible.

I stared at the space where an Ursa had been three seconds ago. At the fallen trees. At Blake, whose arm was still slightly extended, looking at the aftermath with an expression I could only classify as completely indifferent.

She wasn't impressed by what she had done. Just… looking.

[I acted without thinking again. My parents told me to be careful, not to show too much strength unnecessarily. They said that so I could talk to people my age normally, without the weight of being the King of Cats.]

A pause in her thoughts.

[But he was about to be attacked. I felt it before I properly saw it. And I just… moved. Ever since that first time on the airship, there's been this constant feeling I can't explain. I don't fully understand where it comes from, but it's there. And when he was in danger—]

She cut off her own thought before finishing, her ears adjusting as she lowered her arm with the same calm she had raised it.

I filed that away internally, not letting anything show on my face.

So it was pure instinct. She acted without processing or calculating anything. Still, she had definitely used more force than necessary.

I looked at the fallen trees again.

One strike. Two trees. And an Ursa that had ceased to exist.

Beast Kings were forces of nature by definition—they didn't need Semblances, didn't need weapons, didn't need any of the tools hunters spent years developing. Their physical strength placed most Semblances in an entirely different category by comparison. Blake had probably been holding back enough so far that most people would take her for a Faunus with exceptional capabilities—which, combined with the fact that Semblances could have extraordinary physical manifestations, worked as a reasonable cover most of the time.

She had definitely overdone it a little.

Ozpin probably saw that. The question was what he would conclude. And here, Blake had one thing in her favor: Ozpin was methodical, cautious—the type to gather evidence before reaching any definitive conclusion. At first glance, she looked like a Faunus; a Semblance with overwhelming physical strength wasn't impossible—unlikely, but not impossible.

There were enough variables for him not to jump straight to the conclusion of Beast King without more data.

Beast Kings were forces of nature that didn't need Semblances. But Ozpin would need more than a single strike to confirm that.

If she didn't want Ozpin—or anyone—to find out she was the King of Cats, then she'd need to be extra careful from now on.

For now, it should be enough.

I turned to Blake.

"You're very strong," I said, in the neutral tone of someone making a factual observation.

"Yes," she agreed, without hesitation or any particular modulation.

"Good to know." I made a vague gesture deeper into the forest. "Shall we continue?"

Blake lowered her arm completely and resumed walking as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

[He didn't seem that surprised.]

Her thought came a few steps later, quieter, carrying the weight of something that lingered instead of being dismissed.

[Most people would be more disturbed. Or at least show more surprise. He just looked, made a comment, and moved on. As if…]

She left the thought unfinished, but the curiosity was there.

[I need to be more careful from now on. That Ursa didn't require that much force. I overdid it. Why did I overdo it?]

I'd like to know the full answer to that too. But I had a reasonable idea, and it wasn't the time to share any of it.

Still, deep down, I couldn't help but find the strength of Beast Kings unfair—and feel a bit envious.

…

The forest grew denser as we advanced—trees closer together, thicker undergrowth, the mist I had seen from afar now present in low layers that parted with each step. Blake moved with that particular silence that was simply her natural way of walking, each step landing soundlessly on the damp ground, her ears rotating continuously and independently as they monitored the surroundings.

"The relics are in the heart of the forest," I said, more to organize the objective out loud than because she needed the information. "Which is where we're heading anyway."

"I know," Blake said.

Ozpin had given a speech to everyone before throwing the students into a forest full of Grimm, so it was obvious she'd know too.

"Just confirming."

Still, I couldn't help thinking she might not have listened because it was too boring or something. She could have taken a nap in the middle of the explanation. Well, I was probably exaggerating—but considering it was her, it wasn't impossible.

Her ears moved. Probably the feline equivalent of an ironic glance.

We continued in silence for a while—the kind that didn't need to be filled. There was something functionally peaceful about walking beside someone who didn't feel the need to occupy every moment with conversation. Blake processed the environment around her with the constant attention of someone monitoring multiple things at once, and I did the same in my own way.

Mind Reading remained passive, picking up what there was to pick up. Forest, distant birds, the faint traces of other human auras scattered in different directions farther away—the other candidates, each navigating their own path toward the same objective.

Then something came—fast and familiar, with that specific "color" I had learned to recognize over the past few days.

[—there! Between those trees, I knew they'd be around here, the feeling's been right since—]

The thought was cut off by a voice.

"JAUNE!"

I turned.

Ruby came running between the trees to our left, moving in a way that wasn't quite her Semblance, but clearly used reflexes built from ten extra years of experience. Her red cloak, with its dark-tipped ends, flowed with her movement. Beside her, keeping pace with effortless ease that spoke of a very different level of training, was Pyrrha Nikos—her full armor now visible, shield on her arm, a weapon that looked like a spear, red hair tied back, and a posture that conveyed competence without needing to announce it.

Ruby stopped a few meters in front of us with the smile of someone who had found exactly what she was looking for.

Then her gaze dropped to Blake at my side.

[Blake! She went straight to Jaune. That makes sense, given her instincts, even if I still don't fully understand why—but that's really good! If they're partners and Pyrrha and I end up on the same team…]

"Looks like you two found each other," Ruby said, in a tone clearly more pleased with the situation than her neutral words suggested.

"Technically, she found me," I said. "I was just walking."

"You were fighting two Beowolves with a scythe," Blake added.

"Eh!? A scythe!?" Ruby's eyes widened as she looked at me. "Jaune, you use a scythe!? Where is it!?"

[But… Jaune told me he had no combat experience in his past life. But Blake said he was fighting two Beowolves with a scythe!? Did he lie to me? No, that doesn't matter right now. Where's the scythe!?]

She quickly approached me, already demanding I show it.

"Ruby, calm down a bit. I don't use a scythe as my weapon—I've never had any combat training in any school."

"But what about the scythe Blake mentioned?"

Right, I had introduced Blake in the cafeteria.

"It's one of the 'weapons' in my arsenal, but I'd never actually used it before. I just got curious after seeing you fight Roman."

"Oh..!" She looked genuinely happy about that.

"So where is the scythe? It's hard to imagine you could hide something like that, especially if it's anything like Ruby's Crescent Rose."

Pyrrha spoke for the first time.

[Ruby is definitely very energetic, especially when she talks about her weapon. I wasn't surprised when she said she wanted to find Jaune before going after the relics in the forest's heart—she seems very close to him. There's also the Faunus, Blake, if I remember correctly. He introduced her in the cafeteria. She seems rather calm.]

Suddenly, Pyrrha's eyes seemed to light up with enthusiasm.

[Ruby talks to me normally, and that's very comforting. Jaune and Blake don't seem to care about my fame either, unlike Weiss, who kept mentioning my "achievements" when we were talking. The four of us should become a team. They're simply perfect!]

She looked quite happy.

"Well, if you're wondering where the scythe is, the answer is right here!"

I said, pulling the Five of Diamonds card from my pocket and showing it to them.

"A… playing card?" Pyrrha looked confused.

In response, I simply smiled as the card glowed. It vanished, and the scythe appeared in my hands.

Ruby seemed to understand.

[Alchemy!? Well, I guess that makes sense, since Jaune can use magic. It's the first time I've seen him use these cards, but it's really impressive!]

"That's so cool, Jaune! It's alchemy, right? I think my dad mentioned it before, but he said it's very rare and only a few people practice it. I don't know much about it, but it looks like advanced alchemy."

Ruby spoke with enthusiasm.

Seriously, she's incredibly cheerful. And honestly, that's admirable for someone who has seen the end of the world.

"Alchemy… I see. It really is impressive," Pyrrha said, looking at the scythe with interest. "But if you've never used it before, why store a scythe in the card?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Because I wasn't the one who put it there. The scythe was already in the card.

"Well, it's actually simple. Just because I've never used it doesn't mean I won't in the future. It might be useful for things beyond combat."

[Does that mean he has other weapons in those cards?]

"Jaune, do you have other weapons in those cards?" Ruby asked the exact question Pyrrha had thought.

I just smiled slightly.

"Let's just say I have a pretty good deck when the situation calls for it."

Of course, I'd really prefer to keep my best cards up my sleeve and only use them when absolutely necessary. But aside from that, I could use the 'common' ones without any issue.

[So he's hiding more weapons!]

Ruby got excited about that detail.

"So, Jaune, are you going to use the scythe? If you decide to, I can totally train you! It would be amazing, you know!"

[Two scythe users at Beacon! That would be incredible!]

Unfortunately, I had to crush that expectation.

"Sorry, Ruby, but I really don't think the scythe is for me. I realized that when I had a really hard time dealing with just two Beowolves."

"But that's because you don't have any training! You could improve a lot with my help!"

"Sorry. I still don't think it's for me."

"Ahh… I see."

[So… no two cool scythe users…]

Was she actually sad about that?

I heard a laugh. It was Pyrrha. She seemed amused by my conversation with Ruby, though I wasn't entirely sure why.

"Ah, right!" Ruby quickly snapped back to normal and addressed me and Blake. "I think we're a group of four now, so we can work together to find the relics. Who knows, maybe we can become an amazing team!"

"I don't see any problem with that," Pyrrha agreed quickly.

[I don't think there are better people than them. Three women and one handsome man… honestly, not bad at all!]

Pyrrha seemed pleased with the arrangement.

Of course, I saw no reason to refuse walking together—and maybe even ending up on a team with three beautiful girls. That could be a fun and interesting experience, so why not take the opportunity?

"I'm fine with it. What about you, Blake?" I asked my partner while storing the scythe back into the card.

"No problem."

"Alright, then let's go!"

Ruby quickly took the lead, guiding our group. She knew exactly where the relics were, since she had already gone through this Initiation in her previous regression.

And with that, we headed toward the heart of the Emerald Forest.

Ruby guided the group with a confidence that left no room for hesitation—turning left here, circling around an elevation there, picking up speed in the more open stretches. She knew exactly where she was going with a precision that didn't match someone who had never been in that forest before, but no one had questioned it yet.

Pyrrha followed attentively, observing everything around her. Blake simply walked while letting out the occasional yawn.

[I'm really sleepy. When are we going to finish this?]

Do you only know how to sleep?

Along the way, there were Grimm.

Not many, but enough that the route wasn't completely peaceful. Which meant Ruby and Pyrrha basically handled everything before either Blake or I needed to move.

Pyrrha was exactly what four consecutive victories in the Mistral Regional Tournament suggested—efficient and precise. A Beowolf that tried to flank the group simply found her shield in the way before being dispatched quickly.

Ruby, on the other hand, was something else entirely.

Her Semblance was used with efficiency, red petals lingering in the air along the path she had taken, and the Grimm in question was already dissolving before the sound of impact had even finished echoing. She moved between targets with a fluidity that wasn't just her Semblance—it was judgment and economy of motion. She had probably spent a few days getting used to her younger body again.

Blake and I didn't have to do anything the entire way.

Which was, objectively, the ideal situation for both of us.

For me, because it was convenient. For Blake, because every Grimm she didn't have to touch was one less demonstration of what she really was.

…

The temple appeared between the trees with that specific presence of structures that had existed far longer than anything around them. Dark stone covered in moss layered over decades, pillars that had lost their original symmetry to erosion but still supported a partially intact ceiling. Wide steps descending slightly below the level of the surrounding terrain, as if the structure had gradually sunk over the centuries. Around it, the forest had grown inward—roots emerging between stones, branches crossing over what had once been open arches.

There was no one else there.

In other words, we were the first to arrive.

Ruby didn't waste time. Red petals hung in the air as she crossed the temple at speed, disappearing into a deeper opening in the structure, and returned just as quickly holding two chess pieces—smooth, dark stone figures.

She extended one toward me.

It was a King.

How convenient.

[If Jaune and I have the King pieces, the four of us will form a team! He and Blake get the Black King, while Pyrrha and I get the White King!]

Ruby's thoughts carried that specific tone of someone genuinely happy with how things were unfolding—not forced or self-convincing, but something calm and real beneath the excitement.

[I do kind of miss being with Weiss and Yang this time… but it's not like Weiss and I can't become friends again, and Yang is my sister, so we'll get along just fine either way.]

"Should we wait a bit for Yang?" Ruby asked, looking at the group. "She should be arriving soon."

No one objected.

[I want to sleep…]

Well, maybe Blake did a little—but she didn't say anything. Instead, without warning, she simply lay down on the ground.

No one commented. Ruby and I were already used to Blake. Pyrrha, however, couldn't help but look at it strangely.

[She… just lay down on the ground? Jaune and Ruby aren't saying anything, so I guess it must be normal…]

…

About the Beast Kings, there was a hierarchy among them that wasn't arbitrary.

The thought came as I observed the temple, processing the environment with the passivity of someone who had nothing urgent to do.

The disparity in strength between Beast Kings depended on the nature of the animal they represented. It wasn't a matter of skill or training—it was structural, embedded in something more fundamental than any individual development could change. The Cat King would lose to the Dog King in a direct fight. The Dog King would lose to the Wolf King. And so on—a chain that reflected something about the nature of the animals themselves, a hierarchy that had existed since the beginning.

Which meant that Blake, even if a single strike from her had disintegrated an Ursa and knocked down two trees, wasn't even close to what Beast Kings were truly capable of.

I glanced at her discreetly. She was lying on the stone floor with a relaxed expression, as if being in an abandoned temple was nothing noteworthy. Well, cats could sleep anywhere.

In this generation, as far as I knew, only one Beast King had been publicly identified before Blake.

The Wolf King.

Beast Kings were forces of nature—and a force of nature as an ally was exactly the kind of strategic advantage a militarized nation would value. Because of that, many tried to bring Beast Kings under their control. Atlas had tried.

So they sent a small army—trained soldiers with equipment and developed Aura—to "negotiate" with the Wolf King.

The army had been destroyed.

Completely.

The few who survived did so because they had been deliberately left alive—to return and deliver the message with their very existence: this is what happened, and you will never bring enough to change the outcome.

She had spared a few on purpose.

To make the message clear.

And that was the Wolf King—who ranked above the Cat King and Dog King in the hierarchy.

I couldn't help but wonder what the hell Atlas had been thinking, sending only a handful of troops to try to subdue the Wolf King. Just attempting to confront a Beast King was already insane—but going straight for that one?

Well, she was the only Beast King known in this generation at the time, but still. Idiots.

Maybe they were desperate for not having found the Dog King yet? The Dog King was humanity's best friend—and the only Beast King that didn't kill humans. In other words, the Dog King was humanity's greatest ally.

As I was thinking that, I heard something.

A scream familiar enough that I recognized it before processing where it came from echoed through the forest—carrying the specific energy of someone having far more fun than the situation objectively justified.

And then Nora appeared riding an Ursa.

Not a figure of speech. She was literally sitting on the Grimm's back, holding onto the bone plates on its neck like improvised reins, with an expression of complete enthusiasm that suggested this had been a deliberate idea, not an accident that happened to work out.

The Ursa did not seem to agree with the situation.

It took a few uneven steps toward the temple before collapsing outright, dissolving into the usual black smoke, leaving Nora to land in an improvised jump that she executed with more grace than the situation deserved.

She looked around. Saw the group. Saw me specifically.

"MAGE!" she pointed at me with the same energy she had shown on the airship. "You're here too!"

[I knew I'd find him! The forest isn't that big—well, maybe it is—but anyway, I found him!]

"Nora," I said, giving a small nod, as someone who had learned to accept that as a form of greeting.

Pyrrha looked at the space where the Ursa had been, then at Nora, her expression subtly shifting as she revised her understanding of what counted as normal.

"You… rode an Ursa," she said carefully, as if confirming the observation before forming any conclusion.

"Yes!" Nora confirmed, with the satisfaction of someone who had done something noteworthy.

"…I see," Pyrrha said.

Blake, still lying on the ground, glanced at the space where the Ursa had been with the same indifference she had shown toward the trees she herself had knocked down. Her ears flicked once before settling again.

[Why does she think that's impressive? It's just an Ursa.]

Considering you erased one from existence with a single strike, I understand your perspective is different—but this is still completely insane for a normal human.

Ruby was smiling with the warmth of someone seeing something familiar.

[Nora arrived exactly the same way as last time.]

Ren appeared along the same path Nora had come from, walking calmly, his expression suggesting he had simply accepted the absurdity.

"Nora," he said, stopping beside her with a calm tone that carried a considerable amount of unspoken meaning, "you can't just ride an Ursa like that."

"But it worked!"

"This time."

"So it worked!"

Ren looked at her for a moment with that serene expression I had come to interpret as quiet resignation, then turned to the group with a polite nod.

"Sorry about her entrance," he said.

He gave a brief glance at Blake, who simply stared back without saying anything.

[She's lying on the ground in this situation?]

She'd probably be sleeping in a tree right now if this weren't Initiation.

Nora had already spotted the chess pieces in the temple and was moving toward them with that specific determination of someone who had identified a goal. She scanned the available options quickly, as if the choice had already been made, and picked up the Queen with complete satisfaction.

"REN!" she raised the piece toward him. "I'm the Queen of the castle!"

[Of course she picked the Queen.]

Ren's thought came with that familiar mix of affection and inevitability I had noticed since the airship.

"Congratulations," he said with complete sincerity.

The brief exchange that followed was the kind that happened when a group of people who didn't know each other well found themselves in the same place without immediate pressure—short, casual, enough to establish that everyone was reasonably tolerable. Ruby's gaze kept drifting toward the edges of the temple from time to time, monitoring.

[Where are Yang and Weiss? They should be—]

Her thought cut off before finishing.

They came in the form of shouts.

Two of them, simultaneous, coming from slightly different directions but converging on the same point.

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THERE WAS A DEATH STALKER IN THERE!?"

"BECAUSE THERE WAS A DANGER SIGN OUTSIDE THE CAVE, YOU INTELLECTUALLY DEFICIENT BEING!"

"HEY, DON'T SAY THAT, I'M VERY SMART! AND BESIDES, WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME!?"

"I TRIED!"

Weiss and Yang burst through the trees at high speed.

Yang spotted the group in the temple. Spotted Ruby specifically.

"RUBY!" she shouted, not slowing down. "Are you okay!? We've got company, so start running!"

"YANG!" Ruby answered—and then fully processed the situation. Her eyes moved from Yang, to Weiss, to what was coming behind them, and back to the group around her.

[Last time it was Darian and Pyrrha who drew the Death Stalker. Weiss and I dealt with the Nevermore. But this time I already knew where the relics were, so I didn't need that crazy idea of hitching a ride on the Nevermore—and with Pyrrha with me, I thought the Death Stalker wouldn't get provoked…]

She didn't finish the thought.

Crescent Rose was already in her hands, unfolded, and her Semblance activated before anyone else in the temple had fully processed that she had chosen to meet the problem instead of waiting for it.

Red petals hung in the air where she had been.

Yang came to a sudden stop at the edge of the temple. She looked at the ground, where a trail of red petals stretched forward. Her expression showed she had lost control of a situation she thought she could handle.

"RUBY!" Yang exclaimed, startled. Then, with a mix of concern and confusion: "What are you doing!?"

"It's fine, I've got this!" Ruby's voice came from farther ahead, mixed with the sound of something massive moving through the trees.

"That's not an answer!"

But Ruby clearly wasn't listening anymore.

The Death Stalker emerged from the treeline abruptly—and there was a very specific reason for that name. It was massive, with the presence of something that hadn't evolved to be fast or elegant, but overwhelmingly powerful. Its scorpion-like body was covered in black bone plates that functioned as natural armor, making it even more imposing. Eight legs pounded the ground with each step, shaking the terrain. And its tail ended in a stinger glowing with a greenish hue that suggested its danger wasn't just its size.

Nora whistled.

[A Death Stalker… this is the first time I've seen one this close.]

"Ren, are you seeing how big that thing is?"

"It's difficult not to, Nora," Ren replied. "However… shouldn't we help her?" he asked, perhaps a bit concerned about Ruby charging a giant Grimm.

"There's no need to help," I said, without taking my eyes off the scene ahead.

[What do you mean, no need?] Ren frowned before speaking.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Trust me and just watch," I said.

Ruby now stood positioned between the group and the Grimm, Crescent Rose unfolded. There was something different about her—she no longer looked like a fifteen-year-old student facing something enormous. Now she looked like someone who had assessed the target, identified the correct angles, and planned three moves ahead before acting.

The Death Stalker lunged.

Ruby didn't retreat.

Her Semblance activated unexpectedly—not in a straight line, as one might expect. Instead, she moved laterally, a short arc that took her out of the Death Stalker's reach just as the stinger came down. Crescent Rose struck the joint between two plates on its left flank with incredible force, enough to leave a visible crack in the bone.

The Grimm turned.

Fast, for its size.

Ruby was no longer where she had been.

Red petals marked her path—lateral again, this time up along a nearby trunk to gain height, then descending at an angle that used gravity to amplify the impact of the blade against the upper plate. The blade didn't fully pierce, but the existing crack widened further.

"How is she doing that?" Yang stood still, watching every movement with an expression that showed relief—and something else she couldn't quite name. "She's never fought like this before."

Not in this cycle, at least.

Weiss stood a few meters away, arms slightly crossed. She wore the expression of someone watching something impressive—but with logistical objections to the method being used.

[She charged a Death Stalker alone. That's extremely reckless. What was Professor Ozpin thinking, accepting her two years early? And yet… she's handling it very well. That's… frustrating, and I'm not entirely sure why.]

Maybe it's because she's demonstrating greater combat experience than you—but you haven't consciously acknowledged that yet.

Her personality is somewhat similar to her sister's… though I didn't spend much time talking to Winter after I was accused of cheating in a casino in Atlas.

The Death Stalker tried to use its size as an advantage. It lowered its body to reduce attack angles from above and charged forward, relying on raw force. It was the 'correct' strategy against someone dependent on speed and mobility—forcing the fight into a space where its size mattered more than her agility.

Ruby read the movement.

Instead of continuing to evade, she moved inward—positioning herself beneath the Grimm, between its front legs. A difficult angle for the tail to reach. Crescent Rose shifted into rifle form. The shot fired upward, directly into the ventral plate, which was significantly thinner than its outer armor.

The impact created an opening.

The Death Stalker recoiled—for the first time—with something close to disorientation.

"Seriously," Yang said, quieter now, almost to herself.

[When did she get like this? Not that she wasn't good—she always was—but this… this is something else entirely. Did she train in secret?]

Pyrrha stood silent beside me, eyes tracking every one of Ruby's decisions with the professional focus of someone who understood enough to fully appreciate what she was seeing.

[She's reading the Grimm before it moves. It's as if she knows everything about it and anticipates every action. That's not instinct—that's experience… she has experience fighting Death Stalkers.]

She was looking at Ruby differently now.

[I knew she was strong, but this… this is incredible. She's two years younger than me, yet has experience against this kind of Grimm. I want… to fight her.]

Seriously? You're thinking about fighting her in a situation like this? Why do I always end up near battle maniacs?

The Death Stalker shifted with calculated slowness, reassessing. It had realized the target was more complex than expected and adjusted accordingly. Its tail rose, stinger glowing brighter with a strange green light—signaling a stronger strike.

Ruby saw it coming.

Her Semblance activated again—this time backward, rapidly creating distance. Crescent Rose shifted back into rifle form in a single fluid motion she didn't need to think about. She landed on an elevated stone at the edge of the temple, taking a higher position.

Then she fired.

Three shots in succession.

Each projectile struck the same crack she had created earlier. With each hit, the fracture widened.

The third shot broke through completely.

The Death Stalker staggered.

Ruby dropped from above, using the fall to amplify the force of her final strike. The blade unfolded again, descending in a perfect angle directly into the exposed section.

The Grimm collapsed with a massive crash that echoed through the temple. Black smoke began to dissipate slowly as bone plates shattered into fragments.

Silence followed.

For a few seconds.

Nora was the first to speak.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" she pointed at Ruby with absolute conviction. "You're like a tiny goddess of destruction with a scythe! I want to be your best friend!"

Yang reached her before the smoke had fully cleared, crossing the distance in a flash.

"Ruby." Her tone had changed—no more panic, but something softer, steadier, carrying concern and affection. She placed her hands on Ruby's shoulders, looked at her carefully, then asked: "What were you thinking?"

"I knew I could handle it," Ruby said calmly.

"You went alone against a Death Stalker."

"And it worked."

Yang stared at her for a moment, that familiar expression of processing multiple thoughts at once.

[It worked… but it's still really strange. I only didn't run in to help because she was handling it—but it still scared me.]

"It worked," she repeated. Then, slightly different: "When did you get like this?"

Ruby blinked. "Like what?"

"Like this." Yang gestured vaguely toward where the Death Stalker had been. "You've always been good—I know that—but that was… different. You were anticipating everything. And your Semblance control seems better too."

[She was already fast, but that was even faster than I remember. Seriously… what's going on?]

Ruby opened her mouth, closed it, then settled on a smile—genuine, but careful.

"I've been training a lot," she said.

Yang studied her for another second. Not fully satisfied—but with nothing concrete to challenge, she let it go. For now.

"Promise me you won't do something like that again."

"I promise to try."

"That's not a promise."

"It's the best I can offer."

Yang let out something between a sigh and a laugh, then pulled Ruby into a brief hug—which Ruby returned with slightly more intensity than the moment required.

[I don't know what's going on with her lately, but I swear I'll figure it out. And if that blond guy has anything to do with it, I swear he's getting punched before explaining everything.]

Hey—why am I being blamed here!? I'm completely innocent.

Weiss arrived mid-conversation, stopping a few meters away. Her posture suggested she had an opinion—but had decided this wasn't the right moment to voice it. Her brows were slightly furrowed.

[I still think that was reckless. Though I admit… the execution was technically impressive.]

"Well," Weiss said, in her usual clipped tone, "since we apparently resolved that without any prior planning, may I suggest we proceed with slightly more organization from now on?"

"That sounds reasonable," Pyrrha agreed.

Nora was enthusiastically recounting every moment of the fight to Ren, despite the fact he had witnessed it from the same angle.

Blake had stood up at some point during the battle and was now observing the group with her usual calm, evaluative expression. Her ears twitched slightly.

I'm starting to feel like touching them.

Yang went into the temple and came back with a chess piece—another Queen. Which meant she and Weiss would be on the same team as Nora and Ren.

That was… a group.

"So, only the eight of us passed?" she asked casually.

"There should be others eventually. For now, I suggest we return and finish this quickly," Weiss said, with a hint of impatience.

She probably didn't want to spend any more time than necessary in this forest. Honestly, I agreed—and I was pretty sure Blake did too.

No one argued.

Ruby gave one last glance at where the Death Stalker had been before speaking.

"Let's go."

The group began moving back toward the forest's exit, and I fell into step naturally, hands returning to my pockets as the Emerald Forest started to fade behind us.

Initiation was over.

What came next was the beginning of everything I hadn't asked to be part of—and had walked into anyway, fully aware.

Well.

At least the company was interesting.

The Beacon Assembly Hall had that kind of weighted silence that happens when a lot of people are gathered in the same place waiting for the same thing. The rows of candidates who had passed the Initiation were arranged in a reasonably organized manner.

Ozpin stepped onto the stage with Glynda beside him.

And with his coffee.

That damn coffee again.

His speech was brief and appropriate, acknowledging the effort that had been made. He said a few words about what it meant to have passed the Initiation, and there was that particular Ozpin tone that sounded calm while carrying things left unsaid. I listened with half my attention, while the other half, as usual, was elsewhere.

Specifically, in Ozpin's thoughts.

[The Grimm showed a certain caution toward Mr. Arc. That is not something I would expect to see in a standard Initiation—hesitant Beowolves. There is something about him that unsettles them in a way I have yet to understand.]

And if it depends on me, you never will.

[And Miss Belladonna.]

A pause in his thoughts, the kind that carried the weight of someone revisiting something they hadn't been able to explain satisfactorily the first time.

[That Ursa. She erased the Grimm from existence with a simple strike. It was a fast movement, with no visible preparation, no Aura concentration that the cameras could detect. And yet, it wasn't just the Ursa that was erased—the force of the impact wind knocked down two trees. That level of strength is not something a new student should be capable of. A Semblance based on physical strength could explain part of it, as there are Semblances with extraordinary manifestations. However, it was still an Ursa, which makes it all the more intriguing. Also… is she dozing off on Mr. Arc's shoulder again?]

Ah, so you installed cameras all over the forest? They must be pretty small—I didn't notice anything.

In that case, he really did see the entire Initiation in high quality. Let's just hope those cameras couldn't pick up audio.

And yes, Blake was dozing on my shoulder again. Honestly, I don't even care anymore.

[A feline Faunus with that level of strength… something doesn't quite add up. I will need to observe her more closely.]

Ozpin took a sip of his coffee.

Seriously, is that coffee really that good?

"And now," he said, with that calm smile, "the teams."

Cardin's team was first. Winchester, Bronzewing, Lark, Thrush—who had retrieved the Bishop pieces. Team CRDL, with Cardin as leader. There was that particular tension among some people nearby upon hearing the name Cardin Winchester, the kind that suggested his reputation had arrived before he did. I didn't dwell on it for now.

If I had to describe him just by appearance, though, he looked like the typical school bully you'd find in any story.

Of course, appearances can be deceiving, so I wasn't taking that as fact yet.

Then came the second team.

"Weiss Schnee, Yang Xiao Long, Lie Ren, and Nora Valkyrie. You recovered the Queen pieces."

Ozpin let a second of silence pass before continuing.

"Team WYRN." A pause. "Led by Weiss Schnee."

Weiss straightened slightly, with the restraint of someone who was pleased but considered it excessive to show it openly.

[Leader. Finally, something in this place that makes sense.]

[The Ice Queen is the leader. Great.] Yang's thought carried a dry tone. [Well, at least it's not Nora. No offense to her, I barely know her, but… no.]

Nora had already turned to Ren and said something to him upon hearing the team name.

Then Ozpin paused again—this one slightly longer than the previous ones.

Not dramatic. More like someone finalizing a decision they had left open.

[Ruby Rose or Jaune Arc.]

He's seriously considering me?

[Miss Rose. What she demonstrated against the Death Stalker was not the movement of a novice. It was familiarity—with the Grimm, the terrain, the sequence of decisions required. She fought like someone who had faced that before, which is impossible given her age, and yet that is what the evidence suggests. And before that, the incident with Roman Torchwick. While I did not witness it, it is what brought her to Beacon two years early.]

[Mr. Arc, on the other hand… functional alchemy, which in itself is extraordinary. But I have seen nothing beyond that. There is something about him I cannot name—a familiarity, as if I have encountered that kind of presence somewhere long ago. But that is not sufficient reason for leadership.]

You can't even use Aura—how the hell are you sensing familiarity?

[Miss Rose.]

"Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc, Blake Belladonna, and Pyrrha Nikos. You recovered the King pieces. From this moment on, you are Team RBJP, led by Ruby Rose."

Ruby blinked. Then the smile came—not the immediate, excited one, but the quieter version she used when something surprised her in a good way.

[I'm the leader again! The first time I was a complete novice leading, but this time I have so much experience.]

Pyrrha turned to Ruby with a genuine smile.

"Congratulations," she said, with that direct sincerity that needed no embellishment. "You'll be a great leader."

Ruby flushed slightly more than she already had.

"I agree," I said. "A wise choice on Ozpin's part."

And I was completely relieved it wasn't me. If he had said my name, I would have immediately opened my mouth to suggest Ruby instead. She was the regressor—the one who knew countless secrets, someone with combat experience surpassing many students and probably even some teachers. Not me.

I'm just a normal human who happens to be able to read minds.

Blake looked at Ruby for a moment, then returned her gaze forward. Her ears twitched once.

So you're awake.

She clearly didn't care much about the leadership issue.

Glynda stepped forward with her clipboard and that efficient tone of hers.

"Classes for new students will begin next week. This interval exists so that you may familiarize yourselves with Beacon's facilities and, for those not from Vale, to explore the city if you wish. Of course, you are not to interfere with currently enrolled students."

[Which will likely happen anyway with at least half of them.]

Her thought carried that specific professional fatigue of someone who had learned to maintain realistic expectations.

"The dormitories are now available. Each team will have its own space, where the four members will reside throughout their time at Beacon."

There were murmurs.

Some comments were directed my way. I heard enough to understand. People were surprised—and a little annoyed—that I was one of the few men in a team with three women. And now I'd be sharing a dorm with them.

Yes. I know. Thank you for your interest.

My only consolation was that similar comments were directed at Ren, who was also the only male on his team.

Ruby turned to the team as soon as Glynda finished, with the energy of someone who had already made a decision.

"Should we go to the dorm today?" She looked between Pyrrha, Blake, and me with contained enthusiasm, as if trying not to seem overly excited. "It'd be good to get used to the space."

"Makes sense," Pyrrha said. "I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Blake looked at Ruby, then toward the corridor beyond the hall, then back.

"Yes."

Ruby looked at me.

"Jaune?"

"I'll pass," I said. "I have a few things to take care of. I need to call my father—he'll want to know how the Initiation went."

I had told him I was going to Beacon. Not just him—my entire family had been surprised, of course. After all, I had always said I had no intention of becoming a Huntsman, and then suddenly I decided to enroll in a Huntsman academy.

Even I would be surprised and confused.

That said, it's not like I can tell them the real reason I need to be at Beacon.

What am I supposed to say? The world is going to end in ten years and you'll all be dead in two? That's ridiculous.

Ruby frowned slightly—not in disapproval, but in that way of someone recalculating.

[His father… Jaune's family died two years after the fall of Beacon, but I still don't know why. Considering that Jaune can use magic and alchemy, I doubt normal Grimm would be capable of doing anything. Also, his family is well-known because of an Arc who fought in the Great War.]

Ah, that would be "my" great-great-grandfather.

I want to know why my family and I were killed too. I can guess part of the motive, but according to Ruby's past timeline, I just visited Vale and talked with her and her team.

Doesn't sound like I got involved in anything dangerous.

So how the hell was I discovered?

"Alright," she said cheerfully, her tone genuine. "But you'll be there on Monday when classes start, right?"

Well, I'm kind of obligated now, aren't I?

"I'll be there."

She nodded, satisfied, and then turned toward Yang and Team WYRN with that quick step of someone who had people to hug.

Pyrrha gave me a final polite wave before following Ruby.

Blake remained still for a second.

She looked at me. I looked back.

"See you next week," she said.

"See you next week."

Her ears twitched once. Then she turned and walked away—probably to sleep as soon as she reached the dorm.

I was in a luxurious hotel room in Vale.

It wasn't anything special. After all, I had a lot of money—earned through a great deal of effort in casinos, before I was banned from all of them. Because of that, if I really wanted to, I'd never have to worry about money for the rest of my life.

I was sitting on the soft bed as I picked up my Scroll.

It was time to call my father and tell him I had passed the Initiation. However, before I could call him, there was an unread message on my Scroll.

{Master, when are you coming to visit us? It's been a while since the last time. The others miss you.}

"Hmm…"

It really had been a while since the last time I visited them. Still, I didn't have much time now—and I'd have even less once Beacon started.

"Ah, I'll just leave a message explaining things."

I sent her a reply and then prepared to call my father. Still, I couldn't stop one last thought from surfacing.

Noir Eclipse… why the hell did they give us such a ridiculous name?

I called my father through the Scroll, and he answered quickly.

"So," he said before I could speak, "how was it?"

Noah Arc, my father. He had blonde hair and blue eyes like me.

The coincidence was honestly strange.

"I passed the Initiation."

"Of course you did." There was a tone in his voice—not surprise, but something closer to relief disguised as casualness. "Still, I know I've already asked, but I have to ask again. Are you really sure you want to study at Beacon? You always said you never planned on becoming a Huntsman."

"Yes. The situation required it."

"The situation, huh? If that's coming from you, then it must be something serious enough to make you—someone who wanted a normal life—get personally involved."

Even as he said that, he didn't ask for details. He simply accepted it without question. He knew me that well.

Seeing my silence as confirmation, he just sighed in acceptance.

"Very well. I trust you. You may not be my son by blood, but you're still my son. If you've decided this, then it must matter to you."

"I appreciate it. Where is everyone else?"

"Your mother and your sisters are asleep. I stayed up a bit because I figured you'd call at some point."

It was already a bit late at night. After the Initiation ended, I had wandered around Vale for a while before coming to this hotel. So it wasn't surprising that they were asleep.

"I see."

"Son," he began, his voice a bit more serious now, "how involved are you planning to get? Whatever it is you're going to do, be extra careful with Ozpin. He's not exactly a bad person, but I wouldn't call him a good one either. If you're going to study at his school for four years, I don't think you'll be able to hide what you can do forever."

He was probably referring to the magic I could use—though it wasn't just that.

The fact that I could use magic wasn't exactly a secret within my family. My mother, my father, and some of my older sisters knew. The younger ones thought it was just magic tricks, but eventually they'd understand it was real magic.

"From the moment I decided to enter Beacon, I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it forever. I'll deal with it when the time comes."

I knew Ozpin would find out about my magic sooner or later. The truth was, a good portion of my combat ability—even if not fully trained—was tied to it, alongside my Aura.

"I see. So you've truly made up your mind," he said, simply accepting it.

"Yes. Honestly, it might not be so bad. I ended up on a team with three beautiful girls."

"Oh? Three girls? Did any of them catch your attention?"

"All of them did. But if you want to know which one stood out the most, I'd say Blake. She's the Cat King of this generation."

A surprised glint appeared in his eyes.

"The Cat King…?"

Normally, I wouldn't share that kind of information with anyone—even within my family. My father was an exception. He knew about the Beast Kings. He wouldn't go around spreading it.

And there was another reason I told him.

"In this generation, only the Wolf King has been identified, right?" he asked to confirm.

"Yes."

"In that case, I assume this Blake hasn't been revealed yet. You found out on your own. Does this have something to do with what you told me before?"

For clarity, my father didn't know about my Mind Reading. No one did—and I never intended to tell anyone. That was a decision I made a long time ago.

The reason he asked that was because of a story I told him years ago while we were fishing.

"Fate has a funny way of doing things."

In my previous life, I had also met Blake. And in this one, I met her again. We became close friends. I knew that because I read Ruby's thoughts.

"Fate, huh," he murmured. "Thinking about it, it is strange. The reason I found you in that place… maybe that was fate too."

"Probably."

"Well, I should go before your mother wakes up."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, son. Don't forget to call your mother and your sisters later."

"I won't."

After that, the Scroll screen went dark.

The room fell silent.

Blake Belladonna—the Cat King. She didn't seem to remember anything, but her soul… the essence of Blake Belladonna… knew there was something there.

That was why she felt so comfortable around me.

"…When are you going to remember that promise?"

In the quiet room, I murmured the words.

It wasn't anything like a grand promise.

But I was still curious—when, and if, she would ever remember it.

Chapter Text

The Leader:

Team RBJP's dorm room was smaller than Pyrrha had imagined.

It wasn't bad, there was enough space for four beds along the walls, a window letting in the afternoon light, a private bathroom at the back, and a few shelves. It was functional, clean, with the kind of neutrality a space has when it hasn't been lived in long enough to have a personality yet. But it wasn't big.

Ruby walked in first and stood still for a moment, looking around with an expression Pyrrha couldn't quite place — not surprise, more like the quiet recognition of someone seeing a familiar place after some time away.

Blake came in right behind her, scanned the room in a single glance, and went straight to the bed closest to the door. She tossed her jacket onto it, lay down, and closed her eyes.

Pyrrha paused in the doorway for a second.

'She just lay down again.'

It wasn't the first time Blake had done that. At the temple, she had simply stretched out on the stone floor like it was the most natural thing in the world. Pyrrha had found it strange at the time and still found it strange now, but there was something about the way Blake did it — the complete indifference of it — that made it hard to put together a proper comment.

'Well, she's probably just tired after Initiation.'

Pyrrha stepped inside and let the door close behind her.

The walk from the Ceremony Hall to the dorm had been interesting for reasons she hadn't entirely anticipated. A few students had recognized her in the hallway — not many, but enough for two or three encounters with greetings and comments about Mistral. She had smiled, answered briefly, and kept moving.

'Better than back home,' she thought. 'Much better.'

In Mistral, going out without being approached multiple times was something that had stopped being possible a few years ago. Here, there were people who knew her name and her reputation, yes, but the scale was different. And Ruby, who had stayed by her side the whole way, had kept the conversation going without any of those respectful pauses people sometimes made when talking to her, as if they expected her opinions to matter more than theirs.

'She's two years younger than me and every other student at Beacon,' Pyrrha thought, setting her things on one of the free beds and looking toward the window. 'And she fought a Death Stalker alone like it was routine.'

The battle was still fresh in her memory with that specific clarity of things a trained eye registers in detail. Ruby had anticipated every move the Grimm made — not with the intuition of someone naturally gifted, but with the recognition of someone who had been in that situation before and knew exactly what was coming next. It was the difference between skill and experience, and Ruby had both in a combination that made no sense for her age.

'I want to fight her.'

The thought came again with that straightforward honesty Pyrrha had learned to accept as part of who she was. It wasn't arrogance — it was genuine curiosity, the kind that only showed up when someone presented a real challenge. She had fought many opponents over the years on the Mistral circuit, and most had become predictable before the fight even started.

Ruby seemed completely different. An opponent who wasn't predictable.

'Well, we can fight during training or combat classes, though I'm not sure if we're allowed to spar against members of our own team,' Pyrrha decided internally. 'Either way, the moment will come.'

"Pyrrha."

She turned. Blake was lying with her eyes open, looking at the ceiling, a book balanced on her chest.

"Yes?"

"You've been standing in the middle of the room with a distant look on your face."

Not that it was actually strange — Blake only pointed it out because she wanted to.

"Sorry." Pyrrha moved to sit on the edge of the bed she'd chosen. "I was thinking."

Blake nodded as if that were a complete and satisfying answer, and turned her eyes back to the book.

Pyrrha watched for a second.

"What are you reading?"

Blake tilted the book slightly to show the cover without lifting her head. It was a dark-bound volume with a title Pyrrha read in silence — something about a man with two souls.

"Is that something you brought from home?"

"Yes." Blake opened to the first page. "I grabbed it before I left. Haven't started it yet."

"Weren't you going to sleep?"

"I was. But I'm going to try to read at least the beginning first." Her ears twitched slightly. "If I don't do it now, I'll probably never actually finish this book."

Pyrrha considered that. There was a strange but functional logic to it. From what she could tell about Blake — having watched her lie down on the stone floor at the temple during Initiation — Blake clearly slept with a frequency and ease that made any moment a potential opportunity, so the reading window had to be deliberately chosen before sleep arrived on its own.

Ruby had been quiet since they walked in, still standing near the center of the room with the look of someone working through a calculation.

"I know what we're doing," she announced suddenly, with the specific energy of someone who had reached a satisfying conclusion.

Pyrrha looked up. "What?"

"Bunk beds."

The silence lasted two seconds.

"Bunk beds?" Pyrrha repeated.

"Bunk beds!" Ruby confirmed, already moving to examine one of the beds with practical attention. "If we stack two, it opens up a lot more space in the room. That way it won't feel so cramped for four people."

Pyrrha looked at the beds. They were normal beds, simple metal frames, the standard height — not designed with stacking in mind.

"How exactly are you planning to do that?"

"Oh, it's easier than it looks." Ruby was already examining the side brackets of the frame with the eye of someone who had done this before. "These frames have hidden slots in the corners. I just need to reposition the leg supports from one bed so they sit above the corner posts of the other and lock in. It takes a little work but it holds."

'She talks like she's done this before,' Pyrrha thought. 'Wait — if the beds have slots, why didn't they set them up as bunks to begin with?' She couldn't help but wonder.

It was a little strange, but it wasn't as if she had an answer to that.

"Shouldn't we wait for Jaune before rearranging the room?" Pyrrha asked. "He's part of the team too."

"Jaune won't mind." Ruby said it with the certainty of someone who knew the person well. She glanced briefly toward Blake. "Blake, are you okay with this?"

A yawn came from behind the book.

"Fine with me," Blake said, turning a page. "As long as my bed ends up close to his."

Ruby and Pyrrha stared at her.

The silence stretched, because neither of them had any idea how to respond.

Blake kept reading without showing any particular awareness of what her words had done.

It was Pyrrha who managed to put something together first, with the care of someone trying to be direct without being indelicate.

"You and Jaune... really aren't dating?"

Back in the cafeteria, before Initiation started, Ruby's sister had asked something along those lines, but Jaune had said they weren't. Even so, it was a bit unusual for a girl to act this way around someone she'd only recently met. Well, at least Pyrrha assumed they'd only recently met — that was the impression she'd gotten from how Jaune had talked while they were eating.

And according to him, Blake had simply fallen asleep beside him. That wasn't how people who were just acquaintances tended to act, was it?

'Well, it's not like I would know — I've never dated a boy before...'

Blake lowered the book just enough to look at her.

"No."

"Ah." Pyrrha waited a second. "Then..."

"I like being around him." Blake said it with that simplicity that didn't ask for elaboration. "It's comfortable. It's not complicated. I believe I mentioned that already in the cafeteria."

She went back to reading.

'Not complicated,' Pyrrha echoed internally, trying to find a frame of reference where that made complete sense. She could understand liking someone's company. But the specificity of wanting her bed near his, the ease with which she'd been napping against his shoulder in the Ceremony Hall while Professor Ozpin announced the teams, not to mention the rumors about her having slept beside him in the Ballroom...

'Maybe it's some cultural Faunus thing I'm not familiar with,' she concluded at last, which was probably the most charitable explanation available.

Ruby had turned red in a way she clearly hadn't planned to show.

'I really don't know what to make of that,' Ruby thought, turning her attention to the beds with renewed determination. 'In my previous life they got close fast too, but they never actually got together. But back then, Jaune only visited Vale sometimes, so there was never much time for...'

She cut the thought off before it finished.

'For what, Ruby Rose? For what exactly?'

The color in her face deepened slightly. She shook her head and put her focus back on the beds with the kind of determination that had nothing to do with bunk beds.

...

Pyrrha helped Ruby with the frames while Blake read, her ears checking the room periodically on their own, as if monitoring something neither of the others could detect.

The bunk assembly took longer than Ruby had initially estimated — one joint needed more force than seemed reasonable, and another simply refused to cooperate for a few minutes. But Ruby had clearly done this before, or at least studied the problem closely enough to have solutions ready for every obstacle that came up.

"Done." Ruby stepped back and examined the result with satisfaction. Two beds stacked, stable enough not to wobble when she tested them lightly, with the extra space in the room already noticeable. "I'll take the top. Any problem with that, Pyrrha?"

"None at all."

"Then it's settled. On the other side, Blake will probably take the bottom and Jaune the top."

Pyrrha glanced over. Blake had closed the book at some point during the process and was now staring at the ceiling with her hands folded on her stomach, her ears relaxed.

She had fallen asleep a short while after they'd started working on the bunks. It hadn't been a problem to fit the other bed onto the slots at the corners of the one Blake had claimed. Actually, it was a little strange that Blake didn't wake up from the noise — her ears had seemed to be twitching constantly while they worked. But maybe she had simply known what they were doing and hadn't bothered to get up for it.

...

Ruby stood in the center of the room for a moment after they finished.

'Cinder,' Ruby thought.

The name arrived with the weight of something that had been there in the background all along, something she'd kept pushed aside while dealing with the immediate. But the immediate was over — Initiation had ended, the room was sorted, and now there was room for the thoughts she'd been putting off.

'Even if I don't know exactly where, I know she's in Vale right now. Roman and Neo are working for her, and soon she'll be using the White Fang to get Dust for her plans, plans that end with the Fall of Beacon.'

She had failed to capture Roman during the Dust store robbery when she came back, so she needed to think of some way to get information on Cinder's whereabouts. It would help if there were some way to get Roman to switch sides, since she hadn't managed to arrest him.

But Roman wasn't the kind of person who switched sides out of convenience, and after the Dust store fight, he had already seen Ruby's face. A direct approach was out of the question.

Neo was another consideration.

'She's strong. Very strong.' Ruby had fought Neo more than once over the years and had learned to respect that cold calculation behind all the pantomime. 'If I could bring her to my side...'

But Neo followed Roman. She always followed Roman. The loyalty between them was one of the few constants Ruby had come to treat as fixed.

'Maybe it's not fixed this time,' she thought. 'Maybe with enough information about what Cinder actually plans to do with Roman...'

If Ruby had done things right, there might be a chance for things to turn out differently. Roman and Neo had died a few years after the Fall. Though Ruby didn't know exactly how they had died, it was likely their deaths had some connection to Cinder.

She tucked that thought away to consider more carefully later. There were other, more pressing things to focus on now.

'Jaune's family.'

That thought arrived with a different kind of weight — more personal, more urgent in a way she couldn't fully understand. In her previous life, Jaune and his family had died one year after the Fall of Beacon. She didn't know exactly when. Didn't know how, didn't know why, and didn't know who was responsible. Now, with Jaune at Beacon, in Vale, and visible in a way he hadn't been before — when he'd only visited Vale from time to time — things were different.

'Things will change, that much is certain... but will it be for better or worse...?' Ruby sat with that thought for a moment before stopping and thinking again. 'No, I can't think like that right now! I don't know exactly how I came back, but everything has to be better than it was in my previous life. I won't accept anything less, because I want my life to be completely different this time. I want it to be full of good things, happy things. I'm determined to make that happen, and I refuse to settle for anything less!'

She had already made up her mind.

'And Blake.'

Ruby looked over at the figure lying on the bed near the door. The book was closed on her chest, her ears completely relaxed.

'I found out that Blake was the Cat King, but that happened much later. She had somehow managed to hide that secret for a long time, without me or anyone else reaching that conclusion until it was too late. She just lost control and started killing humans and Faunus alike, without distinction. I never understood why she did it. I could never understand what drove her to do those things. I screamed her name, trying to make her stop, but she didn't hear me. She didn't stop, no matter how many times I called her name.'

That fragment of memory was one of the ones Ruby had buried deepest. That kind of memory showed up at the edges of her dreams sometimes.

'What happened to you, Blake?'

While thinking about it, Ruby arrived at a strange conclusion — one she hadn't considered before. It had never occurred to her because everything in her past life had been moving so fast, leaving no room to think clearly.

'The moment Blake lost control... it was shortly after we all found out what happened to Jaune and his family, wasn't it...?'

That thought sent a chill down Ruby's spine.

In fact, when Blake learned of Jaune's death, she had gone very quiet. Blake had always been a reserved person, but after that, she became even more withdrawn and barely spoke to anyone. That went on for several weeks, until Blake simply lost control.

Given how genuinely attached Blake was to Jaune, the thought almost made sense.

'Did she really go over the edge because of Jaune's death?'

She still wasn't completely certain, but she believed it was true. There were so many things she didn't know, so many missing pieces. And there was a limit to how much she could investigate without revealing that she knew things she shouldn't.

Ruby let out a low sigh she hoped just looked like the tiredness of a long day.

'So much to do,' she thought. 'And so little room to get it wrong. Ugh.'

Pyrrha looked over at her from across the room.

"Everything okay?"

Ruby gave her a genuine smile — easy and natural, because Pyrrha was one of the people with whom Ruby found it easy to smile like that.

"I'm fine. Just tired." She looked at the bunk she'd assembled and then at the window. "It was a long day."

"It was," Pyrrha agreed.

The silence that settled after that was a calm one. Three people in a small room at the end of a day that had started in a forest full of Grimm and ended in a dormitory that still smelled new.

Blake shifted onto her side without opening her eyes, her ears adjusting slightly.

'There's so much I need to do,' Ruby thought one last time, looking up at the ceiling. 'But at least today, everyone's okay.'

That was enough for now.

Junior's club sat on one of Vale's busiest streets — the kind that started picking up when the sun went down and kept going long after most sensible people had gone to bed. Nightclub Hei Xiong — as the sign above the entrance spelled it out, though practically everyone just called it "Junior's club" — was one of the best-known spots in Vale's underworld, the kind of place that served expensive drinks out front and even more expensive information in the back.

I arrived during the day, which meant the place was closed to the public.

Which didn't entirely account for the state it was in.

I stopped on the sidewalk for a moment, taking in what was happening. Three men were working at the entrance, swapping out a broken glass door for a new one. Two others carried chairs inside — new chairs, the kind you buy when the old ones are too wrecked to repair. There were marks on the outer wall that suggested something had hit it with considerable force, and the awning above the entrance had a tear in the right corner.

Someone had a good time here.

"Jaune."

I turned as soon as I heard my name in a familiar voice.

Miltia and Melanie Malachite were standing a few meters to my left, coming from the side of the club. They're twins.

Miltia wore a red dress and thigh-high boots, her black hair cut short at the jaw with a straight fringe. Her eyes were sharpened by heavy red makeup, and she had those characteristic red feathers above her left ear.

Melanie stood beside her in a white dress that faded into turquoise at the tulle layers. Her hair was long and straight with the same fringe covering her brows, her makeup a cian shade. She also had feathered wings on her back matching the same cyan as her makeup.

The two of them were ridiculously well-dressed to be supervising a daytime renovation, but I had already learned that Miltia and Melanie were ridiculously well-dressed under any circumstances.

"Miltia, Melanie." I smiled as I greeted both of them. "Good to see you again."

[Finally, a visit worth having.]

Melanie's thought had a note of relief.

[At least it's not another supplier angry about a late delivery.]

Miltia gave a slight incline of her head — that polite gesture she used as a default greeting.

"Jaune, when did you get to Vale?" Miltia asked.

"Not long ago."

Melanie just smiled.

"What happened here?" I asked, gesturing vaguely toward the ongoing repairs.

The two of them exchanged a glance.

"A difficult client," Melanie said, with the tone of someone who had decided that was the most accurate description available.

"A blonde girl," Miltia added, more directly. "Showed up wanting information from Junior. He didn't want to give it."

"He had us leave the floor before talking to her," Melanie said, and there was something in her tone that made her opinion of that decision perfectly clear. "We told him he didn't need to, but you know Junior."

I do, in fact.

"And then?"

"By the time we heard the noise and came back," Miltia said, "the fight was already happening."

"To keep it short," Melanie said, "she got stronger the more she got hit."

That made me pause.

"Her eyes were lilac at first, but then they went red out of nowhere," Miltia continued, with the subtle frown of someone still processing the fact. "And her hair lit up strangely too. Almost like it was on fire."

[It was incredibly frustrating. The more we connected, the stronger she got. Semblances are getting more ridiculous by the day.]

Melanie thought.

Damage-absorption Semblance, I concluded internally. Converts incoming impact into power for the user. Not exactly common, but not unheard of either.

Lilac eyes, though. I knew a surprising number of blondes, but only one with lilac eyes — Yang, Ruby's sister. I'd already gathered she had a temper from her thoughts about hitting me if I had anything to do with the change in Ruby's behavior. But she had actually torn up Junior's club?

Maybe I should be a little more careful around her.

"Did she give you trouble?"

Melanie looked at me with the expression she used when she considered a question mildly insulting.

"More trouble than she deserved," she said. "Her Semblance is frustrating to deal with when you don't know what you're up against. By the time we figured it out, the damage was done."

Miltia nodded once, confirming without elaborating.

Fair enough. The two of them weren't Junior's bodyguards because they were decorative. They had real training, real reflexes, and a track record most people in Vale didn't know about — one I knew precisely because I'd been careful to pay attention in the right places during my time in Mistral.

They were members of Spider. Spider is one of the most powerful crime syndicates based in Mistral, under the leadership of Lil' Miss Malachite. The syndicate had operated quietly in Mistral for years, and her daughters were part of why "quietly" worked so well. Miltia and Melanie didn't know that I knew that, which was exactly how I preferred things to stay.

"What was the girl trying to find out?" I asked.

I was curious about what information Yang would want from Junior.

"Apparently it was about some specific person," Melanie said. "We don't know the details — Junior didn't tell us and we didn't ask."

[And even if we had asked, he rarely shares client information, with a rare exception if we pushed hard enough.]

Miltia thought, without any particular irritation.

"And he didn't tell her."

"He didn't," Miltia confirmed.

That was a little unusual.

Junior wasn't the type to refuse information on principle — as long as the payment was good. He refused when the risk was too high or when someone more dangerous was involved.

If he refused to give Yang anything, there was clearly a significant reason for it.

Well, I could probably ask him about it later.

It was at that point that Melanie moved.

She simply took hold of my right arm with the naturalness of someone who had made a decision and saw no reason to announce it in advance, her white-gloved fingers closing gently above my elbow. The smile she used was the kind that was fully aware of its own effect.

"By the way," she said, in that specific tone I'd learned to recognize as the signal that something indirect was incoming, "you show up here, ask questions about our difficult week... you must have missed us."

Miltia, with that particular timing of someone who followed her sister's lead exactly one second later, took hold of my left arm with the same unhurried gesture.

"Yeah," she said, quieter than Melanie but with the same weight to the word.

[Seriously, this time he has to do something.]

Melanie thought, and there was a considerable amount of genuine frustration behind her lightly teasing tone.

[He answers every hint, smiles in that way of his, and then just... does nothing. No man does that unless he's doing it on purpose or is completely oblivious.]

Well, I can say with complete certainty that I'm not oblivious in any way. It's impossible to be oblivious with mind-reading.

I looked to the right, then to the left, with the expression of someone calmly assessing the situation.

"As much as visiting two such agreeable women is always a good enough reason for anything," I said, "I came to talk to Junior. I need some information."

Melanie let out a sigh that communicated her opinion on that with considerable precision.

"Information," she repeated, with the tone of someone filing it under excuses she'd heard before.

It wasn't an excuse, though.

"Information," I confirmed.

[He really came all the way here just for information? Why on earth can't he just accept my advances and take me to bed for once? I mean, I'd very likely not say no if he actually wanted to. But he never says anything direct, so I don't know if he's turning me down or just being dense.]

I could say the same thing to you. I'd very likely not say no either.

If she simply came out and said it instead of working around the subject with hints and calculated gestures, the conversation would be considerably simpler for everyone involved. But I had the feeling that saying that out loud would not be well received, so I kept it as an internal thought.

Miltia made a low sound that served as quiet agreement with the general state of her sister's frustration, but released my arm with her usual composed politeness.

Melanie held on for one more second before doing the same.

"Junior is inside," she said. "We'll take you."

"That's what we're here for," Miltia added, with a faint edge of childish irritation in her voice.

And with that discreet efficiency the two of them applied to any task, they led me inside the club through the side entrance — the club that, while nicknamed Junior, actually belonged to a man whose real name was Hei Xiong.

We passed the men still working on the repairs with the indifference of people who had learned that someone entering through the side wasn't unusual enough to warrant attention — whether because of habit or because of who was guiding me.

The inside was in better shape than the outside suggested. The worse damage was concentrated around the entrance area and the space immediately around the bar. Several tables were still intact, the stage was untouched, and the lights that stayed on seemed to be working normally.

Junior was sitting on one of the bar stools with a glass in hand, staring at nothing in particular with the expression of someone who had just been through a longer week than planned.

He looked up as we approached. He recognized me, and something in the tension of his shoulders eased slightly — not much, but enough to register.

"Arc," he said.

"Junior." I sat on the stool beside him with the ease of someone perfectly comfortable in the environment. "Looks like you had an interesting week."

He looked at his glass.

"You have no idea."

"So, not wanting to pry — but already doing it anyway — what the hell happened here, Junior?"

He took a long pull from the glass before answering.

"A blonde girl happened." He set the glass down on the bar with more force than necessary. "Came in wanting information. I told her I wasn't going to give it. She didn't like the answer."

"And destroyed half the club."

"Half is generous of you."

I caught myself looking at the space around the bar. The marks on the floor drew my attention — impact marks, the kind that happen when someone gets thrown against a surface with a lot of force. The bar itself also showed signs of repair, with a new section that stood out, the wood lighter than the rest, recently replaced.

"Why didn't you give her the information?" I asked. "She wasn't willing to pay?"

Junior looked at me sideways.

"It wasn't about payment."

"Then what was it about?"

He was quiet for a second, turning the glass between his fingers.

"Can't say."

Of course not. But what actually mattered was that I'd asked the right question. And that was precisely what happened — Junior's mind automatically drifted to the subject in question, which was what I was really after.

[That girl was asking about Raven Branwen. That woman's tribe is in Anima, far from here, and the information that comes through is too fragmented to sell with any confidence. And even if I had plenty of information, I wouldn't sell it regardless. That woman is just too dangerous for me to deal with.]

Raven Branwen.

I filed the name away carefully, letting the pieces arrange themselves.

I had encountered her in Anima while in disguise, during one of my visits to Mistral. The Branwen tribe operated as bandits on that continent, but not the disorganized, opportunistic kind. They had a structure, defined territory, and a leader who knew exactly what she was doing. Raven Branwen was that leader.

I had spoken with her a few times while undercover. On the surface, she came across as a hard and stubborn woman. But reading her thoughts, I found that underneath she was a frightened and troubled person trying to project confidence. At certain moments, I was able to catch fragments of her thoughts — and in them, there were references to a daughter she had apparently abandoned very young. I had never caught the daughter's name or enough details to say anything with certainty.

Yang and Ruby were sisters but didn't resemble each other much — which was quite strange. It could happen because sisters can inherit traits from different parents. Ruby might have taken after her mother while Yang took after her father, or the other way around. Since I didn't know either of their parents, I had no way to say who passed what to whom.

But there were too many coincidences to ignore.

Could Yang be searching for her biological mother?

Again, there was no way to be sure right now, but I could confirm it with Ruby or Yang by asking the right questions once Beacon started.

Junior made a quick gesture with his hand for Miltia and Melanie to leave shortly after our conversation began, as if he needed privacy. They went — Miltia lowering her head politely, while Melanie wore a look that made her displeasure clear. She gave Jaune one last glance before stepping out.

"Junior," I said, with the tone of someone arriving at a conclusion. "You didn't actually know anything about who she was looking for, did you?"

It was obvious from his thoughts that he knew Raven well enough and knew where the tribe was located. He had simply chosen not to share that information with Yang — he'd decided it was too risky, too dangerous for him.

He went still for a second.

Then he looked down at his glass.

[Yeah, sure. Let's go with that.]

"I didn't have the information," he said, lying smoothly. "No point in selling what you don't have."

I looked at him for a moment.

All this damage. The door, the bar, the chairs, the awning. All of it because he didn't want to admit he didn't have the information.

He had probably acted in a way that led Yang to believe he did have what she was looking for about Raven. If he had lied convincingly from the start — the way he just did now — maybe none of this would have happened.

"Junior."

"Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

[Yes you were.]

"I'm just observing," I said, "that perhaps admitting you didn't have a specific piece of information would have been more efficient than the current outcome."

He took another drink.

"I have a reputation to maintain."

A reputation that now includes having the club partially wrecked by a teenage blonde girl — but I decided not to bring that up.

"Right." I leaned against the bar slightly. "So. Now that we're done talking about your bad week, can I ask what I actually came to ask?"

Junior looked at me with the expression of someone who had already sensed there was more coming and had decided to treat it as inevitable.

"I knew it wasn't just to hear about my club." He put down the glass. "What do you want to know?"

[I just hope it's something I can actually share this time.]

"Roman Torchwick," I said. "I want to know where he is."

The silence that followed was the kind where someone is running multiple calculations at once.

Junior narrowed his eyes.

"Why would I know where a wanted criminal is?"

I smiled.

"Come on, Junior." I kept the tone friendly — the kind that made clear there was no accusation involved, just a conversation between people who understood each other. "You've been supplying men for the Dust store robberies Roman's been running. There aren't many people in Vale with that kind of operation available, and Roman isn't exactly someone who inspires organic loyalty in the people working under him."

Junior went very quiet.

[How does he know that.]

It wasn't a question in his thoughts. More the kind of statement that happens when someone is trying to reconstruct where the leak came from.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"That's fine." I leaned back against the bar with the posture of someone perfectly at ease. "Let me rephrase. I'm looking for Roman Torchwick for personal reasons, and you probably know where he can be found. I'm not here to cause any trouble for you, and I'm definitely not interested in taking this to the police — I'm no saint myself. I just want a conversation with him."

[A conversation with a wanted criminal. Sure.]

Junior looked at me for a stretch of time I let pass without rushing.

"Why do you want to talk to him?" he asked.

"Personal reasons."

"Personal doesn't tell me much."

"It's important," I added. "And it would be a big help if you gave me that information."

[Let's see... he's never caused any trouble here, never created problems of any kind, and Miltia and Melanie seem to like him. But Roman is a different situation. If this comes back to me somehow...]

A few more seconds.

[Then again, Arc has a lot of money.]

"How much are you willing to pay?" Junior asked.

"How much do you think is fair?"

He thought briefly, with the tone of someone calibrating.

"Thirty thousand Lien."

It was a lot of money, but I suppose it was reasonable given the level of risk he was taking on. Besides, money wasn't exactly a problem for me.

I pulled out my Scroll and made the transfer without hesitating. Junior checked, and something in his shoulders relaxed slightly.

[Heh. He really didn't hesitate. Guess he wasn't lying when he said he'd been banned from every casino in Vale.]

You really thought I was lying about that?

"Roman is using a warehouse in the North Commercial District," he said, with the tone of someone who'd made a decision and was seeing it through. "Near the old Dust storage facility. The place has security cameras at the main entrance, but the sides don't have coverage after ten at night." He looked at me. "Not that I'd know that for any particular reason."

"Of course not."

Roman in the North Commercial District. That made sense for someone who needed access to Dust transport routes without drawing attention. The area had enough warehouses to dilute any suspicious movement, and city security in that district was notoriously inconsistent on the night shifts.

And if Roman was there, Cinder couldn't be far. From the thoughts I'd caught from Ruby, Cinder was in Vale right now, using Roman as her field operator. A meeting with Roman would likely lead to her at some point.

And that was exactly why I wanted to go to Roman in the first place — to ask him to set up a meeting between her and me.

I needed to see her face at least once before Beacon started. I wanted to know what was going through her head, what she was thinking and feeling. I needed some idea of what we were actually dealing with, beyond the scattered information Ruby let slip through her thoughts.

People's lives are like books to me.

A book with a preface — birth — and an ending — death — with everything else filling the pages in between as time moves forward. Thinking about it that way, my ability to read minds could be compared to reading a book. I could simply skim what was being written in the moment, through the character's thoughts — or I could flip through from beginning to end.

If I wanted, I could read it completely, cover to cover. But it would take a long time, and it had posed risks in the past.

Everyone has a book of their life. The only exceptions are Ruby and Ozpin.

Ozpin for obvious reasons — his immortal soul reincarnating into a new person each time he "dies."

Ruby, being someone who had lived twice, had a set of two books that shouldn't exist, telling the story of her life. The first book was clearly about her first life, before she came back. The problem was that this book was sealed in a very peculiar way — I couldn't open it no matter how hard I tried. The only way I could learn anything about Ruby's first life was if she herself remembered something and thought about it.

The second book was still being written — this life, the one she was living now.

Either way, my time here was short.

I stood up.

"Thanks, Junior."

He took another drink from his glass, which served as an answer.

...

Miltia and Melanie were in the side corridor. Miltia was scrolling through something on her Scroll, while Melanie stood leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. When I came out, both looked up in my direction.

"Done talking to Junior?" Melanie uncrossed her arms with the expression of someone who had expected the conversation to last longer.

"Done," I confirmed.

[He was in there fifteen minutes and now he's leaving.]

"Don't you want a drink before you go? Even though we're closed, I can make an exception for you."

"That would be nice, but I really have to go. There's something I need to take care of."

"I see..."

Miltia put away her Scroll.

"Will you be back in Vale soon?" she asked.

"Actually," I said, "I'll be around for quite a while." I paused a moment to let that land. "I'm starting at Beacon next week."

Both of them went still.

Melanie was the first to recover.

"Beacon?" she repeated. "Beacon Academy?"

"The same."

[If that's the case, it means he'll be staying in Vale for four years...]

Melanie's thought carried a completely different tone from the ones before it. No frustration — just calculation.

[Four years! That's more than enough to actually start something with him!]

She's genuinely excited about that.

Miltia glanced briefly at her sister, then back at me.

"You never mentioned that before."

"I decided recently."

"When you say recently..."

"Very recently."

Melanie tilted her head slightly, fully back in the tone she used when she'd arrived at a satisfying conclusion.

"So we'll be seeing a lot more of you," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Probably," I agreed.

"You'll come visit us during the time you're not studying?" Miltia asked, with her directness that stood in contrast to her sister's more elaborate approach.

"If I have the time, absolutely."

[Yes! He agreed. Four years is plenty for things to develop naturally. I just need to be patient and a little less subtle next time.]

Miltia thought, glancing briefly toward her sister.

Or you could just be straightforward about it, I thought internally — but apparently that wasn't in their plans.

The goodbye was brief and fitting. Miltia gave me her usual polite nod. Melanie smiled in that way she knew had a particular effect. And with that, I left Junior's club and stepped back out onto the street.

...

...

...

The North Commercial District was about twenty minutes on foot from Junior's club. It sat in a part of Vale where the buildings were lower and built for a more practical purpose. They weren't meant to impress — they were meant to house operations. Warehouses, storage facilities, and one or two small factories that turned out equipment. The streets of the North Commercial District were wider, useful for freight transport, and less lit than the ones in the commercial center.

I waited until nightfall to go there.

The warehouse Junior had described was a simple two-story building, metal walls darkened by time. The windows were high and narrow, making it impossible to see inside from outside. The main entrance was easy to find, with two cameras positioned exactly where Junior said they'd be. Parked beside the building was an unmarked van — no logo, no identifying marks — exactly the kind of vehicle that disappears in a busy lot without anyone noticing.

I stood on the other side of the street, checking my Scroll for a moment.

{Understood, Master. I'll be waiting for your visit along with the others whenever you have time away from Beacon. As for what you asked for — we haven't found it yet. I'm sorry.}

She really didn't need to apologize. The order I'd given them was too vague. I mean, asking them to search all of Remnant for a black wooden coffin — a treasure box carved from precious juniper wood, carefully lacquered and engraved all over with a winged red cross — when I didn't even know the exact location wasn't exactly a simple or easy thing to do.

It was possible they might never find that coffin, and I supposed that was fine.

I replied to her message, put my Scroll away, and turned my attention back to the building.

Someone was inside. I couldn't hear well enough from this distance, but it was definitely Roman. And apparently he was alone, which meant Neo wasn't with him.

"...He still has that misconception that I'm extremely strong and dangerous, doesn't he?"

The first time I met Roman, he was in disguise — at a casino he apparently intended to rob in a way that would leave no trace, the kind where people wouldn't even notice until he was long gone.

I had gotten curious and decided to follow him. While I was doing that, I caught a thought from a girl who wanted to hit me. On reflex, I moved aside in the direction the thought was coming from. It was Neo, hidden by an illusion her Semblance had created. Since I could hear her thoughts, I knew where her strikes were going to come from and managed to dodge all of them.

After that, a few things happened that led Neo and Roman to believe I was considerably stronger than I actually am.

I'd once read a story that reminded me a bit of this situation — about a boy who was extremely lucky in everything that happened around him, and so everyone assumed he was incredibly powerful. He was actually completely powerless. What I liked about those stories was the comedy. They were genuinely funny.

Since Neo wasn't with Roman right now, I could take advantage of the situation and get him to agree to setting up a meeting with Cinder without too much difficulty.

Beacon was still a few days away. That was enough time, if I used it well.

I had to get inside without leaving a trace, so I got ready.

Right then. Time to go have a talk with Roman — that criminal child.

Roman Torchwick was not the type of man who let himself complain out loud — with rare exceptions that caught him off guard.

Complaining was a sign you weren't strong enough, and he knew weakness was something he couldn't afford. But there was a significant difference between complaining out loud for everyone to hear and simply observing the situation with quiet clarity, noticing that things were, in fact, a complete mess. The current situation was exactly that — a total mess, and that was a fact he could see with perfect clarity.

The men Junior had supplied were a joke.

Not all of them — there were three or four who knew what they were doing, who followed instructions without needing them repeated twice, and who could pull off a simple robbery without generating the kind of complications that ended up on the news. Those, Roman could tolerate. The rest...

'Seriously, the price I paid Junior wasn't for this,' he thought, looking over a report one of the men had handed him that afternoon. 'Losing to that little redheaded brat during the Dust store robbery said everything about the quality of what he was sending me.'

The little redhead.

Roman had asked Neo to look into that girl after the incident — he needed to know if it was going to become a problem. What Neo had found was, to be honest, very strange: Ruby Rose, fifteen years old, had been accepted into Beacon ahead of schedule on a personal invitation from Ozpin himself.

Normally, students started at Beacon at seventeen.

Fifteen...

'I won't be that harsh about it,' Roman admitted to himself, with the objectivity of someone who had seen experienced Hunters in action. 'She fought like a real Hunter. At fifteen. Which is, by any honest measure, completely absurd.'

But the men who had lost to her weren't Hunters. They were criminals with basic training, and there was a difference. The problem was that Roman had asked Junior to send more men after the arrests, and the second batch was not proving to be much of an improvement over the first.

Small mistakes. Nothing that would sink the operation, but the kind of thing that piled up and created unnecessary exposure.

'All this,' he thought, getting up from the makeshift crate he'd been using as a chair and walking to the narrow window overlooking the side of the building, 'to steal Dust for that terrifying fire-wielding bitch.'

Cinder.

He didn't even like thinking her name too clearly, as if doing so might somehow make her appear. Which was irrational, and Roman Torchwick was not irrational — but there was something about that woman that produced exactly that kind of irrational response in the people around her.

The fire Cinder could produce wasn't ordinary. Roman had seen a few Semblances that used fire in some way, and those were relatively common. But Cinder's fire was different. There was something in it that felt older than any Semblance he knew. It was denser, with a quality he couldn't name but that triggered a primitive instinct to step back.

Honestly, he just wanted out.

'But I can't just walk away.' That was the part that irritated him most.

Roman had a well-calibrated instinct for when to cut his losses and disappear, and that instinct had gone off multiple times in recent weeks. The problem was that Cinder was the kind of person who didn't leave "walking away" as an available option. She had never said what she would do if he tried — but there were ways of communicating certain things without words.

And she never told him what she wanted the Dust for.

That also made him uneasy. Roman worked best when he knew exactly what he was working toward — not because he was a decent person, but because knowing what was coming was what let him get out when things went wrong and not be caught off guard in the middle of something he hadn't seen coming.

'Something big,' he concluded, with the objectivity of someone who had seen large enough operations to recognize the patterns. 'Something that needs a lot of Dust and a lot of discre—'

"Roman Torchwick."

He spun around.

His heart jumped. Roman considered that a perfectly normal reaction, though one he wouldn't be mentioning to anyone.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. A smile that communicated that the person wearing it was perfectly at ease with the situation — which was exactly the kind of smile Roman found most unsettling.

'No. No, no, no.'

He knew that face.

The casino had been, in fact, one of the best-executed plans Roman had put together in years. The entry was seamless, with Neo using her Semblance to handle any complication that might arise. And as planned, the exit was secured before anyone realized what had happened. Clean and elegant — exactly the kind of work Roman liked to do and was proud of.

And then that blond kid simply appeared... and dodged Neo's attacks.

It wasn't an attack he should have seen coming — Neo was concealed by her Semblance, completely invisible to anyone who relied on vision to detect threats. And yet he had moved to exactly the right side, with the naturalness of someone who had already seen the strike before it happened.

Which led to a situation Roman had never quite managed to explain satisfactorily.

'Damn, damn! Neo, you better not be eating ice cream right now in the middle of this emergency!'

"How did you find me here?" Roman asked, in the most casual tone he could manage — which was not nearly as casual as he would have liked.

"Finding someone like you isn't as hard as it sounds," he said.

'What do you mean, not that hard?' Roman felt the cold sweat he would also never mention to anyone. 'Vale's authorities couldn't locate me. The White Fang couldn't locate me when they tried. And this seventeen-year-old kid found me in a warehouse I specifically chose because it was anonymous enough not to appear in any relevant records?'

He had asked Neo to look into Jaune Arc after the casino, expecting to find something that would explain what had happened. The result had been, to put it plainly, disappointing in terms of useful information.

Jaune Arc. Seventeen years old. He belongs to the Arc family — a name well known among Hunters, with a long tradition of producing capable fighters, generation after generation. However, Jaune himself had not attended any of the Prep Academies that typically feed students into Beacon and similar institutions. There were no records of him having undergone formal training. No documented combat experience.

Which made what happened at the casino even more inexplicable.

'An ordinary human,' Roman had concluded at the time, with the caution of someone who knows quick conclusions tend to be traps. 'Who dodged concealed Neo as if he knew exactly where she was. Who handled everything I threw at him before I could finish assessing the situation. Who has no history that explains any of it.'

The fear Jaune Arc inspired in Roman was different from the fear Cinder inspired. Cinder was a known danger — he had a rough sense of what to expect from her and adjusted accordingly. Jaune Arc was an unknown danger. And Roman had learned long ago that the unknown was usually more dangerous than the known.

"If you're looking for Neo," Roman said, in a tone that was meant to sound casual and came out only slightly less tense than he was, "she's not here right now."

'Why did I say that?' he immediately caught himself. 'I just confirmed I'm alone. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I'll add that to the list of things I'll never mention to anyone.'

"I know she's not here," Jaune said, with that specific calm Roman had started to associate with people who knew more than they should.

'Of course he knows. He dodged Neo's attacks while she was concealed by her Semblance — of course he'd notice if she wasn't around!'

Roman shifted his position slightly — the kind of physical adjustment any trained Hunter would recognize as preparation. He gauged the distance to the nearest exit, the angle his cane would offer if he needed to use it, the position of Arc relative to the available light.

'Is he here to kill me?'

The question surfaced suddenly, as if survival instinct had kicked in. Roman remembered a conversation he'd had with Neo after that night at the casino — one of those rare occasions where Neo expressed an opinion without being asked, communicating through gestures and expressions. And in that moment, Roman had noticed that Neo seemed interested. Not in a professional sense. Something more personal.

'Neo seems to like him,' Roman thought to himself. And there was a hope in that thought he would never say out loud. 'And he seemed to like her too — at least enough not to treat her as an enemy after what happened at the casino. So I'm hoping, probably, that he's not here to hurt me.'

"I'm not here to cause any trouble," Jaune said. "I came to ask a favor."

Roman stayed quiet, waiting.

"I need you to arrange a meeting between me and the woman you're working for."

'Ah.'

Roman looked at Jaune for a moment.

'How does he know it's a woman? How does he know I'm working for someone? How many people know about this operation? I thought I was being discreet. I was being discreet. This was supposed to be discreet!'

"You know Cinder?" Roman asked, before processing that he had just confirmed the name — which was more information than he should have given.

'Fantastic. Having a great day.'

Jaune didn't answer the question directly. He just kept that smile that communicated he knew exactly what effect he was having.

"I just need a meeting," he said. "That doesn't seem like something you'd have trouble arranging."

'It's not hard,' Roman agreed internally, in the tone of someone doing an inventory of problems. 'It's suicidal. There's a difference. Cinder is not the kind of person who receives unannounced visitors warmly. And if I show up telling her some mysterious blond kid wants to meet with her for personal reasons, the possibilities include her asking me how I let this happen — which is not a conversation I want to have.'

"You're making things complicated for me," Roman said, in the most controlled tone he could manage.

"That wasn't my intention," Jaune replied, with a sincerity Roman had no way of verifying. "I just need a meeting. Personal reasons. Nothing to do with the operation you're running. And of course — you wouldn't be introducing her to Jaune Arc."

'Personal reasons.' Roman filed that under appropriate skepticism. 'Everyone has personal reasons. Nobody who shows up in a secret warehouse at night asking for a meeting with a woman who controls fire in ways that shouldn't be possible has reasons I'd classify as harmless.'

But there was another calculation running at the same time, one Roman couldn't quite ignore.

Jaune had found this warehouse.

'If he wanted to cause me trouble,' Roman concluded, with the pragmatic logic he'd developed over years of surviving in a business that wasn't kind to the non-pragmatic, 'he would have done it before he opened his mouth.'

The silence between them lasted long enough for Roman to arrive at the conclusion he was arriving at.

"You just want me to set up a meeting," he said, more confirmation than question.

"That's all," Jaune confirmed.

Roman looked at him for a few more seconds.

"And how am I supposed to introduce you to her if you're not using your name?"

Jaune considered that for a moment. Then the smile shifted slightly — not in size, but in quality, as if something that had been held back had found room to surface.

"Tell her the leader of Noir Eclipse wants a brief meeting with her."