The new rooms weren't half bad. A little cramped, sure, but at least there wasn't any weird black mold growing on the ceiling. That alone made it a step up from my old college dorm. Back then, it had been so bad that we once swiped some unused petri dishes to grow homemade mold colonies for mycology class.
The room itself was simple: four beds lined up in a neat row along one wall, with a large window perfectly centered to let in plenty of light. A private bathroom in the corner came equipped with both a washer and dryer—a luxury I definitely wasn't expecting. Against the opposite wall, two sturdy wooden desks stood ready for late-night cramming sessions, complete with shelves above for books and whatever personal touches we decided to add.
Not bad at all, I thought, running my hand along the desk.
"Dibs on the left corner," I declared, tossing my bag onto the bed closest to the bathroom. It wasn't the biggest room, but proximity to the bathroom felt like a strategic choice. My teammates quickly followed suit.
Nora claimed her spot in a blur of motion, practically shoving Ren aside to grab the other corner bed with a triumphant grin. Ren, ever the picture of patience, settled for the bed beside hers without complaint. That left Pyrrha to take the bed to my right, completing our neat little arrangement.
With beds claimed, everyone got to work unpacking. My pack was the lightest of the group—just the essentials. Ren and Nora didn't bring much more than I did, but Pyrrha seemed to have packed for every possible scenario. I pulled out my clothes first, stashing my *"contraband"—*a trusty canteen filled with high proof booze and a couple of packs of cigarettes—under the mattress, where it would stay out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.
As far as personal touches went, I kept it simple. Digging through my bag, I retrieved a small family photo. Mom and Dad stood front and center, Saphron and Terra flanking them with little Adrian in Terra's arms. Around them was the rest of the Arc clan: biggest sister Catherine on the right, Diana on the left, and me standing just below her. I let myself linger on it for a moment before placing it carefully on the small table beside my bed, right next to my scroll charger.
Satisfied with my setup, I glanced around. Ren and Nora were still arranging their things, and Pyrrha was meticulously organizing her quarter of the room. It felt like the right time to get a head start on setting the tone for our team.
Grabbing the day planner from one of the desks, I flipped it open and skimmed the schedule. "Alright, team," I began, holding up the planner like an unofficial briefing officer. "Here's what tomorrow looks like: our first class of the semester is with Professor Port at 9:00 a.m. sharp.."
I glanced up to see them listening as they worked. "Most of these early classes are probably introductory," I added, "so our workload should be manageable at the start."
"However," I said, drawing the attention of the team as their gazes shifted toward me, "do you want me to wake you guys up in the morning? I usually get up pretty early, so it wouldn't be much of a hassle. If we start early enough, we might even have time to swing by for breakfast."
At the mention of breakfast, Nora, who had seemed disinterested moments ago, perked up instantly. "Yes!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as she turned to Ren. "Ren, say yes! Breakfast!" she demanded, badgering him until he gave a small, resigned nod of agreement.
Pyrrha, on the other hand, responded with a warm, grateful smile. "That sounds like a good idea," she said simply, her tone making it clear she appreciated the offer.
Well, at least I had one less thing to worry about—making sure we'd all be on time and well-fed.
"Alrighty, now for the bad news," I said, standing with a small sigh. "I'm probably going to commandeer the bathroom for a little bit. I really need to give my armor a quick wash—it's been smelling to high hell since initiation." My tone carried a bit of frustration as the memory of that Grimm stench resurfaced.
My teammates exchanged questioning looks, clearly unsure what I meant. Then I remembered—Oh right, that's just me. Only I seemed to suffer the curse of actually smelling Grimm thanks to my aura's quirks.
"Don't worry about it," I added, waving off their confusion. "Just... trust me, it needs cleaning."
They didn't argue, which I took as silent approval. Collecting my equipment, I headed for the bathroom.
Once inside, I set my armor pieces—greaves, chest plate and Chainmail—on the counter. I filled the sink with warm, soapy water and began scrubbing the metal bits with a metallic brush from a maintenance kit, carefully working out the black grime clinging to the crevices. It wasn't just about the smell anymore; it felt wrong leaving my gear like this after a fight. If I didn't respect my equipment, how could I trust it to protect me?
The repetitive motion was oddly calming, the faint metallic scrrritch of the brush against steel and gold grounding my thoughts. With each stroke, the gleam of my armor returned, and by the time I rinsed and dried it, it almost looked new again.
Next were the non-metal parts—the straps, padding, and fabric components. I threw them into the washing machine, setting it to a quick cycle with plenty of detergent. I prayed the smell wouldn't linger.
With the hard work done, I turned my attention to myself. Stripping off my sweat-soaked undershirt and trousers, I stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over me. The heat worked its magic, loosening the tension in my shoulders and back.
I grabbed a bar of soap and started scrubbing, making extra sure to rid myself of any lingering traces of Grimm ichor. It wasn't like normal grime—it clung to your skin, felt heavier somehow, like the memory of a nightmare you couldn't quite shake. The water swirled dark gray as it ran off me and down the drain, taking the remnants of the day with it.
For a moment, I just stood there, letting the water wash over me. The day had been exhausting—physically, mentally, emotionally—but also exhilarating. I was here. At Beacon. With a team.
After rinsing the last of the soap away, I turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. Checking the washer, I saw the cycle had finished. I hung the freshly cleaned straps and padding on a drying rack and laid the armor pieces carefully on a nearby counter to air out.
As I ran a hand through my damp hair, I glanced at the mirror. My reflection stared back, sleepy but determined.
As I gazed into my own blue eyes, the mirror's reflection seemed to dim, and the world around me dissolved into an overwhelming darkness.
I was back in the void.
The Tree loomed before me, its branches faintly glowing amidst the swirling black emptiness. It stood as it always did—a solitary beacon in the vast nothingness. But now, there was a new addition: the faint, otherworldly glow of a blue moon on the horizon. Its cool light shone down, a subtle reminder that Ranni had kept her promise to watch over me.
The Tree stirred. Two of its branches ignited in brilliant light, and before I could comprehend what was happening, an unbearable pain shot through my chest. It felt as though a rod of molten iron was being driven directly into my soul. My aura flared instinctively, its golden light rushing to counter the intrusion, but it wasn't enough.
A yawning chasm opened in my very being, and the pain was all-consuming. My teeth felt like they were warping—softening, hardening, shifting uncontrollably—before blood began to spill from my mouth. My knees buckled under the sheer agony, sending me collapsing to the ground. Every fiber of my being screamed, and I was utterly powerless to resist.
Then, through the haze of suffering, I felt it.
A hand.
Resting firmly on my shoulder.
Too overwhelmed to react, I couldn't even turn my head to look. But as the hand pressed down with a comforting weight, the pain began to ebb. Slowly, excruciatingly, the agony dulled, receding like waves pulling away from the shore. My mind cleared, though my body still trembled from the aftershocks.
Summoning my remaining strength, I turned my head to see the figure behind me.
He was enormous, his presence as commanding as the void was vast. Encased in golden armor, the figure radiated power and authority. Wild, fiery red hair framed his face, flowing like a mane of untamed flame.
My breath caught as recognition struck me like a hammer blow.
General Radahn.
Memories cascaded into my mind, vivid and unrelenting. I knew him. I had fought alongside him. I had killed him—twice.
I remembered his booming laughter as he shared the secrets of gravity magic with his followers. The warmth in his eyes during the feasts held in his honor. The sorrow that shadowed his face after his encounter with Miquella. The grim determination in his voice as he fought against Malenia, even as the scarlet rot began to consume him from within.
I recalled his resilience, his kindness in the face of suffering, his look of gratitude when I had first slain him for his Great Rune—and again when I freed his spirit from the tormenting prison crafted by Miquella, kindly Miquella, Vile Miquella, Depraved Miquella, using Mohg's own body as a vessel.
His presence was overwhelming, the sheer weight of his existence almost too much to bear. And yet, in that moment, he stood before me—not as an enemy, but as a memory, a mentor, and leader.
I remember the proud times, before the shattering.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.
I was back in the bathroom.
The familiar tile and dull fluorescent light greeted me, though something felt… different. My reflection in the mirror confirmed it.
My canines were longer now, almost twice the size they had been before. My hair, previously neat and controlled, now stood wild and voluminous, strands floating above my head like ethereal antennas. My eyes, once a deep blue, now carried a subtle green hue, nearly imperceptible to others but glaringly obvious to me.
My skin had changed as well. Where once there had been the calluses and imperfections of a life spent working on the farm, there was now a smooth, unblemished surface—soft and untouched, as if I had never known hardship.
I stared at myself, taking in the subtle but undeniable changes in my reflection. The longer I looked, the more alien it all felt—my elongated canines, the slight green tint to my eyes, the wildness in my hair. My mind reeled, trying to process everything.
Suddenly, heavy knocks struck the bathroom door, jolting me from my thoughts.
"Jaune, are you okay? We heard a crash," Pyrrha's concerned voice called from the other side.
Panic surged through me. "Uh, yes! One of my plates fell on the ground, don't worry!" I shouted, doing my best to sound casual while scrambling to get dressed.
I hastily grabbed my pajamas, fumbling to pull them on as quickly as possible. My heart raced with the desperate hope that none of them would notice the changes—at least, not yet.
Dressing myself hurriedly and trying—unsuccessfully—to tame my hair back into its usual place, I finally opened the door to our shared room.
Inside, chaos reigned as Nora bounced energetically on her new bed, her laughter filling the space. Ren stood nearby, arms crossed, trying to convince her to stop.
"Nora, the springs won't last if you keep that up," Ren said with his usual calm tone, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"I'm just testing the bounce!" Nora replied with a grin, leaping even higher.
Pyrrha, meanwhile, stood near the door. From the look on her face, it seemed she had been about to knock again when I opened it. Her hand hovered mid-air for a moment before she lowered it, concern flickering across her expression.
"You're sure everything's okay?" she asked softly, her emerald eyes searching mine.
"Yeah, all good," I replied, giving what I hoped was a convincing smile. "Just dropped something, like I said. Nothing to worry about."
Pyrrha's gaze lingered for a second longer, her expression unreadable, before she nodded. "Alright. Let us know if you need anything."
"Will do," I said, moving past her into the room and trying not to draw attention to myself.
Nora leapt off her bed with a final bounce, landing beside Ren. "Jaune! Did you finish your armor cleaning? I hope you didn't drop anything important!"
"Nope, all sorted," I replied quickly, sidestepping her enthusiasm.
As I headed toward my bed, I caught Pyrrha glancing at me out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't sure if she noticed anything different, but I resolved to act as normal as possible. For now, keeping things quiet was the safest option.
The bed was surprisingly comfortable. The silk sheets felt cool against my back, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the heavy covers that promised to keep the Valean winter chill at bay. As I sank into the mattress, time seemed to drift by in a haze of relaxation.
Pyrrha was next to take her turn in the bathroom, followed by Nora, who hummed a cheerful tune the whole time. Ren went last, always the most patient of us, and when he was done, he even took my freshly cleaned gear out of the wash and folded it neatly. A nice guy, that Ren.
Once everything was settled, we turned off the lights. The room fell into a calm stillness, the quiet only broken by the occasional rustle of bedding as everyone got comfortable. The day's initiation had taken its toll on all of us, and before long, the gentle rhythm of steady breathing filled the space.
Waking up the next morning was certainly an experience. As it turned out, Nora snored—not loudly, thankfully, but just enough that I could hear the faint hum of it in the distance. Faint sunlight was seeping through the edges of the curtains, casting soft light into the room. My teammates were all still asleep, though I noticed Ren shifting slightly in his bed. He was probably going to wake up soon.
I checked my scroll: 6:20 AM. A bit early, considering breakfast ran until 8:30 AM.
Deciding to make the most of the quiet, I grabbed my school uniform and quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to make any noise that might wake the others. So far, so good. Creeping toward the bathroom, I opened the door with practiced precision, ensuring it didn't squeak on its hinges. Success.
Once inside, I placed my uniform and scroll on the sink. Feeling the slight chill of the morning air, I shivered briefly before turning on the shower and stepping in. Warm water cascaded over me, washing away the remnants of sleep and the lingering aches from yesterday's initiation. A sigh escaped my lips as I let the steam envelop me, easing the tension from my muscles.
As the hot water streamed down, I felt the familiar hum of my aura stir to life. With a deliberate pull, I reached inward, coaxing it fully awake. Its golden glow shimmered faintly around me, providing a warmth deeper than the shower could offer.
It felt...different. Stronger.
There was so much more of it now, a sheer abundance of energy coursing through me. I hadn't paid close attention during the chaos of last night, but now, in this moment of stillness, the change was undeniable. My aura was no longer sluggish and constrained. It was vibrant—like a reservoir that had surged and overflowed overnight.
Where it once felt like thick syrup, slow and clumsy to command, it now coursed through me with the fluidity of water, responding to my will almost instantly. Experimenting, I pushed it outward in a broad pulse, letting it spill freely into the air. The radiant light that followed was effortless, a transformation that should have been ruinously draining mere days ago.
Back then, releasing even a fraction of this energy for a powerful attack, like the overcharged Smite I'd used in the initiation, would have left me nearly depleted. That single strike had burned through almost a third of my reserves, forcing me to fight conservatively afterward. But now, this same energy expenditure barely registered.
My aura replenished itself faster too—where it once took an hour or two of complete rest to recover fully, it now felt like mere minutes would suffice. And this increase in efficiency hadn't come at the cost of raw power; I could still feel the same devastating potential at my fingertips, if not more.
Feeling a bit more confident, I decided to try my hand at the new gift the tree gave me, gravity sorcery. Technically, I already knew how to use most of the techniques from the Lands Between—my new memories provided glimpses of them. They didn't offer much in the way of broader context, though. What little I did understand came from fragmented recollections of my other self's time in that world, specifically learning gravity magic under the tutelage of Radahn, Ranni's brother.
From what I could piece together, it had been a civil war among demigods, each vying to become the "big dog" after some cosmic upheaval. My other self had sided with Radahn, arriving before the whole situation descended into complete chaos—or, well, more chaos.
Things went south when someone unleashed a magical-biological nuke that reshaped a whole region. Afterward, I—or rather, my counterpart—found "Grace," whatever that truly was, and began walking a path of divine intervention. That journey included magic lessons from Ranni herself, eventually becoming her champion and, if I'm interpreting things right, perhaps even her husband.
That part, however, remains frustratingly murky. As it turned out, being semi-dead—or whatever metaphysical state is required to be a god—left me unsure about my conjugal situation. What's clear is that the journey involved mastering gravity magic, using it in countless battles, and culminated in a final, definitive clash. I fought Miquella and his brother-consort to eliminate all remaining claimants to the throne.
The memories are fragmented and disjointed, but the essence of those battles—the raw power of gravity bending to my will—is vivid. Each time I draw on those lessons, it feels like reconnecting with a deeply ingrained instinct.
Taking a deep breath, I concentrated, letting my aura mingle with the new energy coursing through me. The magic drank deeply from my aura—far more than the ability tied to my oath ever did. Yet now, with my aura in overdrive, it was merely an inconvenience rather than something utterly ruinous.
With a flick of my fingers, I willed gravity to bend around me, deciding to experiment rather than rely on cookie-cutter techniques. The water droplets from the shower slowed mid-air, shimmering like suspended pearls, before spiraling gently to the floor. A subtle tug pulled them together into a small orb of liquid hovering in front of me.
It worked.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I let the orb drop, the droplets splattering harmlessly on the tiles.
Continuing my morning routine, I reached for the shampoo, lathering it into my hair as the warm water cascaded down. The rich scent filled the small bathroom, mingling with the steam that fogged up the mirror. With deliberate movements, I worked the suds through my hair, the foam clinging to my fingers as I massaged my scalp.
Next came the conditioner, a slick contrast to the shampoo, smoothing out my hair as I applied it. My hands worked methodically, distributing it evenly before rinsing it out under the steady stream of water.
Despite the magical experiments and the revelations about my aura, the simple act of grooming was oddly grounding.
Finishing up, I turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry off. The air in the bathroom was thick with steam, and the mirror was completely fogged up, obscuring my reflection. I wiped a hand across the glass, clearing enough space to see myself as I reached for my uniform.
It was surprisingly nice, far more refined than anything I'd worn for school before. Back in my old life, a "uniform" for upper education was more of a concept than a reality—casual clothes were the standard, even in the medical field the only uniform I had in college was my doctor coat with some mostly white shirt and equally white pants. This was different.
The ensemble started with a crisp white shirt that fit comfortably, followed by a dark blue undershirt that added a subtle layer of formality. A red tie came next, bright and bold, neatly contrasting with the deep black of the tailored coat. The coat itself was the centerpiece, trimmed with gold accents that lent it a regal flair, and it rested snugly over my shoulders. Black pants completed the look, not so simple but elegant, fitting seamlessly with the overall aesthetic.
All in all I looked good, checking the scroll I saw that it was almost seven, it seem that I took far to long than normally in the bathroom , oops deciding that I should probably wake the others up, I opened the door back to our bedroom and took the sight before me, Nora still snoring, Ren unfortunately did not wake up like I predicted, merely wrapped himself in a cocoon with his sheats, Pyrrha thankfully was sleeping like a normal person.
Standing in the center of the room, I reached inward, pulling on the familiar warmth of my oath to conjure a spell. Daylight was always impressive, a versatile spell that let me imbue light into an object or summon a bright sphere. For now, I chose the latter—creating a floating beacon that would help wake everyone up.
With a flick of my fingers, a glowing orb materialized in the air, searing bright like a miniature sun. The light washed over the room, illuminating every corner. The reaction was immediate.
"AHHH, MY EYES!" Nora shrieked, burying her face in her pillow and flailing under the sudden brilliance.
Ren groaned softly, shielding his eyes with an arm as he shifted in his bed. "Jaune…was this really necessary?" he mumbled, voice heavy with sleep.
Pyrrha, ever the polite one, sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes, blinking at the light as she adjusted. "Good morning to you too, Jaune," she said with a small, amused smile.
"Well, it's effective, isn't it?" I said, grinning as I dismissed the spell with a snap of my fingers. The orb vanished, leaving only the pale light of dawn creeping through the curtains.
Nora sat up in her bed, her hair a chaotic mess, and glared at me with mock betrayal. "You're lucky I like breakfast, or you'd be in trouble!" she declared dramatically before swinging her legs off the bed.
Ren, ever patient, sighed and stood, stretching as he moved to gather his things. "Let's just get ready," he said, his tone resigned but good-natured.
Pyrrha was already out of bed, gathering her uniform and toiletries with quiet efficiency. I followed suit, making sure everything I needed was in hand before stepping aside to let the others use the bathroom.
One by one, they took turns freshening up. Nora emerged first, energized and practically bouncing, ready to eat. Ren came out next, his hair tied neatly and his demeanor calm as ever. Finally, Pyrrha returned, perfectly composed and elegant as usual, looking every bit the champion she was reputed to be.
"Alright, team," I said, clapping my hands together. "Let's head to breakfast before Nora starts eating the furniture."
"Ha ha," Nora said sarcastically, though her grin betrayed her excitement as she marched toward the door.
Our walk to the cafeteria was calm and unhurried. Being in the central area of the school, it was a bit of a trek from the dorms, but at least it meant we'd have an easier time heading to Professor Port's class afterward. We arrived at 7:50, early enough that the place was mostly empty. Perfect.
Nora immediately darted toward the pancake station, dragging Ren along despite his half-hearted protests.
"Nora, the pancakes aren't going anywhere," Ren said, though he let himself be pulled along, his tone resigned but amused.
"But the good pancakes might!" Nora retorted with a grin. "We have to get there before they're gone!"
I chuckled at their antics as I found a free table and dropped my things onto one of the seats to claim it. "I'll grab some cereal," I muttered to myself, heading to the nearest food station.
Pyrrha wasn't with me, but I caught a glimpse of her heading toward the section with fruits and salads. She seemed to have the same idea as Ren—healthy as always.
The cafeteria felt eerily quiet, with only a handful of other students scattered across the large space. It was peaceful, but it also meant no long lines, so I quickly filled my tray with a bowl of cereal, milk, and a small can of something carbonated for a bit of a boost.
As I sat back down, I could hear Nora's voice carrying from across the room.
"Ren, do you think I can stack four pancakes this time? Or would that be too much?"
Ren's reply was too soft for me to hear, but I imagined it was something practical like, "Eat what you can finish."
Smiling to myself, I dug into my cereal and waited for the others to join me.
Seeing my friends approach with their trays filled, laughter lighting up the otherwise quiet cafeteria, I felt a rare moment of contentment. Things were going well—better than I could have hoped. It seemed this "university 2.0" was shaping up to be everything I needed.
But then, just as I leaned back to savor the moment, the world went dark.
The edges of my vision blurred and bled into the shadows. A weightless pull dragged me from the cafeteria, and I knew exactly where I was headed.
"Great," I thought, exasperation and dread mingling in equal measure. "Another trip to the tree. This'll be fun to explain later."
When my senses returned, I was back in the void. The massive, otherworldly tree loomed before me, its glowing branches swaying in that unnatural, invisible wind. Above, the ever-present blue moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie light on the scene.
I stepped forward, scanning the branches. One of them began to glow brighter—an old, familiar branch, the same one that had granted me my Oath.
"Alright," I muttered, hope flickering in my chest. Maybe this time it'll be something useful. Something good.
The branch pulsed, its light growing until it blazed like a miniature sun. Tendrils of silvery energy reached out, arcing toward me, and then it struck.
Pain lanced through my head, specifically my left eye. I stumbled back, clutching at my face as the world around me dissolved into searing white-hot agony. My aura flared instinctively, golden light rising to shield me, but it was useless. Whatever power the tree was forcing into me, it carved through my defenses like they weren't even there.
It felt like something was being taken, ripped away piece by piece, and then replaced with something... alien. My left eye burned like molten metal, and I couldn't tell if I was screaming or just thinking about it.
As the pain reached its peak, images began to flood my mind—fragmented memories of strange, ancient rituals. I saw hands—mine, or someone else's—holding an Ice pick which was getting a bit too close to my face, then the same hand offered me a silvery glass orb that shimmered with faint, magical light. A voice whispered in a language I didn't understand, its words laced with both reverence and unease.
When the pain finally ebbed, I fell to my knees, breathing hard. My left eye felt... different. I hesitated, then reached up, slowly peeling my hand away.
It wasn't my eye anymore.
Where my natural eye once was, there now rested a silvery, glass-like orb. It shimmered faintly, its iris catching the light in a way that didn't feel entirely natural. As I blinked, the world around me seemed sharper, clearer—details I'd never noticed before stood out in stark clarity.
I hesitated, then closed my right eye, focusing solely on the new one. Instantly, my vision shifted, zooming in and out like I was looking through a telescope. I could see the faint cracks in the bark of the tree, the way the branches swayed ever so slightly.
The power wasn't just magnification. I could feel it—an ability to pierce through deception, to see the unseen. Illusions, invisibility—they would mean nothing against this eye.
"Volo's Ersatz Eye," a voice whispered in the back of my mind, unbidden but undeniable.
I reached up, running my fingers over the edge of the prosthetic. It felt smooth, cool to the touch, but it wasn't natural. It wasn't mine.
The void began to recede, the vision fading as I was yanked back into reality.
The cafeteria reappeared around me, its warm light a sharp contrast to the coldness of the void. My heart was pounding, my hands trembling as I gripped the edge of the table.
"Jaune! You okay?" Nora's voice snapped me back to the moment. She dropped her tray on our table, her face a mixture of cheer and mild concern.
"N-not really," I managed, forcing a weak smile as I rubbed the back of my neck. "Just... let's wait for everyone to get here. I'll explain then."
Nora squinted at me, clearly unconvinced, but the allure of her pancakes won out. She shrugged and dug into her plate with unrelenting enthusiasm, her chatter bubbling back to life.
Ren and Pyrrha exchanged a glance but seemed to take my vague response at face value. They settled in at the table, their presence bringing a liveliness to the otherwise empty cafeteria. Their light conversation filled the air, yet I couldn't bring myself to join in.
"So," I began, deciding to just get it over with. My voice was steady, but I could feel the weight of my teammates' gazes even before I spoke. "You guys may have noticed that I've been acting…" I hesitated, searching for the right word, "…strange since last night. So, just so you don't panic preemptively—don't worry."
The reaction was immediate—and exactly what I hoped to avoid.
Nora, who had been thoroughly engrossed in her pancakes just moments ago, now locked onto me with an intensity I wasn't used to seeing from her outside of battle. Even Ren, the calm and steady one, had shifted his focus entirely toward me, eyebrows furrowing slightly.
Pyrrha, though—her response was the most unsettling. At first, she looked confused, her green eyes darting between me and the others. Then, slowly, her face paled. Her hands trembled as they gripped the edge of the table, and her expression became one of pure unease.
"Pyrrha?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice. "Are you okay?"
Before I could continue my carefully crafted explanation, she cut me off, her voice shaky and barely audible, even in the relative quiet of the cafeteria.
"Wha-what happened to your eye?"
"Ah, you noticed," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. Nora and Ren focused on my face now, looking closely at my eye. It didn't take long for them to realize that something was definitely off—the color didn't match.
Nora's eyes widened first, then she glanced at Ren, and he looked just as confused.
I let out a sigh, knowing this was going to be a little more difficult than I'd hoped. "You see," I started, trying to sound casual, "my semblance is a bit... weird. It doesn't exactly work like other people's. Basically, it gives me… 'stuff.'" I made air quotes with my fingers, feeling a bit awkward.
"Stuff?" Ren asked, furrowing his brow.
I nodded, trying to explain further. "Yeah. It can give me new gear, knowledge, and even powers. Nothing as powerful as a full-on semblance, but still useful." I paused for a moment, then flicked my fingers, making their plates float slightly in the air as a demonstration.
Ren's frown deepened, and Pyrrha was still staring at my eye, clearly concerned but unsure of how to respond.
"This time," I continued, with a sarcastic edge creeping into my voice, "my semblance decided to gift me with an 'improved' eye." I gestured to my left eye, the new, glassy prosthetic that was still unfamiliar to me.
Nora, who had been oddly silent, finally spoke up, her voice shaky. "So... your eye's gone? You... you lost it?" Her gaze flicked between me and the rest of the team, her expression filled with worry.
I nodded, trying to keep it together. "Yeah, I lost it. But don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds. It's... replaced now. And it works just like a normal eye, maybe even better."
Ren and Pyrrha exchanged uneasy glances, their concern clearly written on their faces. "Jaune, that sounds... intense," Pyrrha said quietly, her usual calm demeanor shaken.
Nora, usually the one to make light of things, looked unsure for once. "So, you're okay, though? You're not... hurt?" Her voice softened, as if she was trying to understand what had happened without pushing too hard.
I gave them a reassuring smile, though I knew it was a little forced. "I'm fine. Really. It's just... part of how my semblance works. I'll be okay."
The silence that followed was thick with worry, and I could tell they were still processing it all. I cleared my throat. "Look, I'll go talk to Headmaster Ozpin about this after the day's classes. I'm sure he'll have some guidance on how to handle all this."
Ren nodded slowly, still looking uneasy. "We're here for you, Jaune."
I nodded in return, grateful for their support. "I know, thanks, guys."
With that, we continued eating our breakfast in a quiet, slightly awkward atmosphere. My teammates kept sneaking glances at my face, though they tried to do it as tactfully as possible. I couldn't blame them; I was still adjusting to this new change myself. Everything felt... different. The world around me seemed slightly more vibrant, almost airbrushed, as if someone had added a filter to reality. I could even read the small print on the menus from across the cafeteria. It was an odd feeling, but one I couldn't quite put into words.
We finished our breakfast about twenty minutes before Professor Port's class, and we slowly gathered our things, preparing to head out. As we made our way to the door, though, a loud, panicked scream echoed through the hallway.
"AHHH! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!!"
It was followed by the sound of frantic footsteps and more shouting.
"We have to go now, Ruby!" Yang's voice was a little frantic.
"Blake, are you done yet?!" Weiss called out, clearly stressed.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ruby's voice rang out, followed by a crash.
The commotion seemed to grow louder and more chaotic by the second.
"What do you think that's about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Nora laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe they overslept or something."
Ren looked a little more concerned. "It sounds like they're in a hurry. Wonder if they got caught up in something."
"Who knows?" I said, shrugging. "But it sounds like they're going to be late for class if they don't hurry up."
Nora grinned. "Well, at least it's not us."
We continued on our way, but just before we reached the classroom, we heard the distinct sound of someone barreling down the hall.
"Wait for meeeee!" Ruby's voice rang out, followed by the sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway.
By the time we reached Professor Port's class, the hallway had quieted down again. I thought about how odd it felt—how everything had been normal, and then suddenly, here I was, with an entirely new eye, trying to keep it under wraps.
"Alright," I said, pushing the thoughts aside. "I'll talk to the headmaster after class today. I need to figure out what's going on with all of this."
Ren nodded quietly, and Nora gave me a supportive grin. Pyrrha offered a reassuring smile, though there was still some concern in her eyes.
"…Monsters, demons, prowlers of the night—yes, the creatures of Grimm have many names, but I merely refer to them as Prey! Hahahahaa!" Professor Port's booming voice echoed through the classroom, as he eagerly scanned his students, his excitement bordering on manic. Most of us, however, didn't share his enthusiasm. It was, after all, our first class after the initiation, and we were all still trying to recover from the madness of the previous day.
I, on the other hand, couldn't help but give him a quick smile, offering a few noises of appreciation. I was well acquainted with Professor Port's quirks after having spent time with him during the entrance exam. He had helped me out, and I had a soft spot for the old guy, even if his exuberance was... overwhelming at times.
"And you shall, too, upon graduating from this prestigious academy!" Port continued, a gleam in his eye. "Now, as I was saying, Vale, as well as the other three kingdoms, are safe havens in an otherwise treacherous world. Our planet is absolutely teeming with creatures that would love nothing more than to tear you to pieces! And that's where we come in—huntsmen!" He gestured widely, puffing his chest with pride. "And huntresses!" His gaze turned to Yang, giving her an exaggerated wink, as if the word was some kind of secret code ewww. "Individuals sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves... from what, you ask? Why, the very world!"
He punctuated this with a dramatic fist pump into the air, as if declaring victory. In the back of the room, some guy yelled, "Eyyee up!" which only made the moment even stranger. We all exchanged awkward glances.
"That's what you are training to become, future huntsmen and huntresses! But first, a story!" Port said, his voice growing more animated. "A tale of a young, handsome man—when I was a boy, bla bla bla…" He launched into one of his signature stories, a classic about how he single handedly immobilized a Beowolf when he was younger. It was a tale I already knew by heart, having heard it during the long journey to Vale. Still, there was something oddly charming about his rambling nature. Impressive as the story was, it was clear Professor Port wasn't born with the gift of storytelling.
I glanced over at my teammates again, their boredom palpable. Nora was leaning on her hands, eyes half-lidded in a daze, while Ren sat still as usual, his brow furrowing slightly, as though he were making a quiet assessment of the whole situation. Pyrrha, meanwhile, sat up straight, giving the professor her full attention, though it was clear she wasn't as enthralled by his tale as Port probably imagined.
After a while, I tuned out, letting my thoughts drift back to the conversation with my teammates about my new… eye. As much as I tried to focus on Port's dramatic retelling of his Beowolf encounter, I couldn't shake the memory of their concerned faces from earlier. The worry was still there, gnawing at me.
"Anyway," Port continued, still riding the high of his own story. "The Beowolf was no match for my youthful strength, and I brought it down with nothing but my bare hands! You will all have your own moments like this, should you survive the trials ahead!"
I tried to suppress a smirk. It was hard not to at this point—this guy was something else. But as much as I wanted to zone out and let the lecture wash over me, I knew I had to focus. This was the start of our training, and I wasn't going to let whatever strange new abilities I was dealing with interfere with that.
While Port rambled on, I decided to put my new eye to good use. I scanned the classroom, my vision sharper than it had ever been, able to pick up even the smallest details. Everything looked normal—people either trying not to fall asleep or pretending to be interested—except for one thing.
Weiss Schnee.
She was practically vibrating with anger, her face red as she glared at Ruby, who seemed completely uninterested in the class. Ruby had her head resting on her hand, eyes glazed over as she absentmindedly fiddled with something. Weiss's fists were clenched so tightly, I half-expected her to explode.
"...a true huntsman must be strategic, well-educated, and wise," Port said, his voice carrying across the room. He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. "So, who among you believes themselves to be the embodiment of these traits?"
The class was eerily silent, most of the students having tuned out long ago, but then—
"Me."
"I do, sir."
Both Weiss and I spoke up at the same time. I'd only answered because I didn't want Port to be left hanging in the silence, but I could feel the stares of my classmates as they looked between us. I could practically hear Weiss's teeth grinding from where I sat.
"Ohohoh, let Miss Schnee have her turn, Mr. Arc," Port said with a grin. "I've already seen you fight once, and what a spectacle that was. Remind me to recount your glorious battle to the class sometime," he added, his tone jovial.
My cheeks burned as everyone's eyes turned to me. I forced myself to keep staring at Port, trying to ignore the heat in my face.
"Come, Miss Schnee," Port said, gesturing for her to follow him. "Let's find out."
A metal platform began to rise from the floor with a loud, grinding sound. My breath caught as a cage emerged from the ground, and inside it, a Boarbatusk was thrashing violently against the bars, its tusks scraping the sides in an attempt to escape. The creature's growls reverberated through the room, making it clear that it wasn't exactly fond of being confined.
Weiss, having made a quick trip to the lockers, stepped forward with her usual grace and composure. Her gloved hand rested on her waist, where Myrtenaster was sheathed, and her posture was rigid—poised and ready for action. Her gaze remained fixed on the Boarbatusk, its frantic movements no doubt fueling her focus as she prepared for the fight.
"GOOOO WEISS!!!" Ruby shouted enthusiastically, followed by a more disturbing "Yeah, rip his head off, Team RWBY!!"
I blinked at Ruby's enthusiasm, but I understood the sentiment—she just had a unique way of expressing it.
"Ruby, I'm trying to focus," she shot back, her tone already exasperated. Ruby immediately deflated, realizing her attempt at encouragement wasn't helping. It seemed like Team RWBY hadn't quite hit their stride just yet, but they'd get there.
"Alright, let the match begin!" Professor Port boomed, slamming his axe down on the cage lock to free the creature.
The Boarbatusk wasted no time. With a snarl, it charged at Weiss. She reacted swiftly, dodging to the side with a graceful spin while swiping her rapier at the beast. The creature turned, its gaze snapping from Weiss to me for a moment. Its eyes locked onto mine for a split second, as if calculating me as a threat. But it quickly refocused on Weiss.
Port provided some commentary from the sidelines, but it was nothing noteworthy. His booming voice seemed more theatrical than helpful.
"Hang in there, Weiss!!!" Ruby shouted, trying to encourage her, though her words fell on deaf ears. The creature was focused entirely on Weiss.
The Boarbatusk charged once more, and this time, Weiss couldn't dodge in time. It smacked her hard, sending her stumbling back. Her aura flared to life, absorbing most of the blow, but it was clear she'd taken a hit. In the chaos, her rapier became stuck in the creature's tusks.
"Come on, Weiss! Show it who's boss!" Ruby cheered, trying to rally her teammate.
Weiss struggled with the Boarbatusk, her weapon tangled, trying to free it. But the creature wasn't giving her any space. It seemed to sense her vulnerability, and it took full advantage. It swiped at her again, sending her sprawling and sending her rapier flying across the room, leaving Weiss momentarily weaponless.
The Boarbatusk charged at her once more, its tusks aimed directly for Weiss. But she was quick on her feet. With a fluid movement, she dodged just in time, and the creature slammed into one of the classroom benches.
"Go for its belly!" Ruby shouted, desperately trying to offer a tactical suggestion. "There's no armor underneath!"
Weiss snapped, clearly frustrated. "Stop telling me what to do!!!" she shouted, the stress of the situation clearly getting to her. Ruby deflated at the harshness of her tone.
The Boarbatusk, now even more ferocious, spun at her like a demented version of Sonic the Hedgehog. But Weiss was ready. With a sharp motion, she activated a glyph beneath her feet, freezing the creature in place. Then, with a graceful somersault, she pushed off the glyph and rocketed toward the creature, landing a deadly blow right in its stomach.
The creature let out a horrible squeal, its body crumpling as it was impaled. Weiss landed lightly on her feet, her weapon slick with the Boarbatusk's blood. She stood tall, the fight clearly won.
"Bravo, bravo!" Professor Port cheered. "It appears we are indeed in the presence of a true Huntress in training!"
Weiss stood over the fallen Grimm, breathing heavily, but with a look of triumph on her face. Professor Port, as usual, had to add a little more theatrical flair to the situation.
"I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today," he said, raising his hand to dismiss us. "Be sure to cover the assigned reading, and stay vigilant! Class dismissed!"
Mouthing an apology, Ruby gave Weiss an awkward, sheepish grin, but Weiss didn't even acknowledge it. She simply turned on her heel and strutted off toward the door, her posture still stiff and proud. There was no glance, no hint of recognition or relief; just a cold, composed exit. Damn, I thought, I'm glad my team doesn't have that BS.
As Weiss made her departure, I shook my head, a little surprised by how tense things had gotten between them.
I quickly turned my attention to the classroom, where the rest of us were starting to pack up and file out.
Before I left, I noticed the assigned reading list on the desk. It wasn't much—just some introductory materials, likely designed to familiarize us with basic concepts and protocols about being a Huntsman or Huntress. Still, I figured I might as well give it a read. I didn't want to be unprepared, especially with everything going on.
With the day finally over, I made my way out of the classroom, my mind already focused on the task ahead. I gave my team a few quick apologies and promises that I'd catch up with them later in their room, then set off on my own. The weight of the conversation I was about to have with Headmaster Ozpin was already starting to press on me, but I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.
Surprisingly, the search didn't take long. As I rounded a corner, I spotted Ozpin exiting a hallway, Ruby just finishing her conversation with him. She gave me a puzzled look before turning away, heading off toward her dorm.
Trying not to sound too urgent, I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, Headmaster," I said, drawing his attention.
Ozpin turned to face me, his calm demeanor not shifting even as I approached. "Ah, Jaune. Is there something you need?"
I hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words, then decided to just go for it. "I need to speak with you. It's... quite urgent." I paused, unsure of how to explain what had been happening with my semblance. "It's about my semblance," I added, cutting it off before I could say too much.
Ruby threw me an odd, curious glance as she walked past, but she didn't stop. I quickly glanced at her retreating form, relieved she hadn't pressed for more details. I didn't want to traumatize anyone with the full truth—at least, not yet.
Ozpin gave a small, acknowledging nod. "Very well. Come with me," he said before turning and leading me down the hallway. "We can discuss this in my office."
I followed him, my nerves still buzzing in my chest. What was I even going to say? Hey my semblance took my eye.
As we reached the top of the tower, Ozpin's office came into view, and I couldn't help but take it in. The large, circular room served as both an office and the very mechanism of Beacon's clocktower. Massive, slow-turning gears framed the space, their steady motion a constant reminder of time's passage. It was equal parts impressive and pretentious, though I couldn't deny the breathtaking view of the campus through the massive clock face. Functional as a window? Not really. But the aesthetic was undeniable.
Ozpin gestured for me to take a seat as he settled behind his desk, coffee mug in hand. "Now then, Mr. Arc," he began, his voice calm yet probing. "You said this was an emergency?"
Taking a deep breath, I thought carefully about how to explain. "Well, sir, it's a bit of a wild ride. I'm not even sure you'll believe me, but my semblance seems to have... appeared before my aura did." I watched him closely, expecting some sign of disbelief, but his expression remained unreadable, his sharp eyes fixed on me as I continued.
"It seems like my semblance's ability is to... give me things. At first, it was just my oath." I summoned the golden light of my aura, letting it fill the room and push back the shadows. The warmth radiated softly, banishing the darkness from the office's corners. "It carved a code of conduct into my very being—to follow the ideals of a knight in shining armor. And while it does give me a useful power, I don't need to tell you, Headmaster, that having a power based on morality makes life... complicated."
Ozpin's eyes narrowed slightly, though his face remained calm. "Complicated how, exactly?"
"Because it's not just about power," I said, my voice quieter now. "It's a constant weight, a responsibility. I have to live up to it, or..." I trailed off, unwilling to voice the fear that gnawed at me. "Anyway, after that, it gave me these." I materialized my golden wings, letting the radiant energy unfurl in the air. "For a while, I thought my semblance was just themed around knights. It gave me armor, weapons, tools made of materials I can't even recognize. But then, last night... things changed."
I let the wings fade, focusing on the next part. "It offered me a new power—gravity magic." Reaching into the well of energy inside me, I felt my eyes glow faintly as I summoned the power. The air grew heavier as books from Ozpin's desk lifted off, spinning lazily in the air before returning gently to their places.
Ozpin's hand, holding his coffee mug, froze mid-sip. His sharp green eyes narrowed further, darting between me and the now-settled books. The faint furrow in his brow deepened, his calm veneer rippling for just a moment. "Gravity magic, you say," he murmured, lowering the mug to his desk. His voice remained steady, but there was an edge to it, the kind of tone that suggested gears turning rapidly in his mind. "That is… extraordinary. And you say this power was simply given to you by your semblance?"
"It's incredible," I admitted, pausing as the memory of last night crept in. "But... it came at a cost."
Ozpin raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "A cost?"
I swallowed hard. "My semblance doesn't just offer me things, sir. It forces them onto me. I can't decline them, can't say no, even if I wanted to. When it gives me something, there's no option. It's like... it decides what I need, and I just have to deal with the consequences."
His brow furrowed deeper, the calm mask slipping further. "And these... gifts," he said carefully, "they're not simply enhancements to your aura or tools to aid your training. They reshape you—your body, your abilities, even your very identity."
I nodded. "Exactly. It's not just what it gave me—it's what it's changing me into. That's what scares me."
I hesitated, then moved to the most recent and unsettling change. "Last night, when it gave me gravity magic, it also changed my body. My eyes—" I gestured to my mismatched irises "—both of them changed color. My hair grew. Scars and imperfections were healed. And my aura expanded massively.."
Ozpin's eyes flicked to my mismatched eyes now, the focus in his gaze sharp.
"And today... well, my semblance 'rewarded' me with this." I reached up, and with a pull of gravity magic, popped my left eye out of its socket with a wet pop. The sense of wrongness hit me like a wave, and I held the eye up for him to see. "A new and improved eye. It can zoom, see better in the dark, and isn't fooled by invisibility or illusions."
Ozpin's calm demeanor shattered entirely as his coffee mug tipped slightly in his hand, a thin stream spilling over the rim. His green eyes widened, the shock clear on his face. "Mr. Arc..."
"Not exactly willingly," I said, popping the eye back in with another wet pop and shaking off the residual wrongness. "It's not like I had much of a choice. When my semblance decides to give me something, there's no option to say no. There's no warning, no consent—it's just... done."
I looked Ozpin in the eye, hoping he could grasp the enormity of what I was dealing with. "And now my team knows about it. They didn't push too hard this time, but... what happens when the next 'gift' is more noticeable? What happens when it's something I can't hide from others? What am I supposed to do then?"
Ozpin exhaled slowly, placing his mug carefully back on the desk. "That is indeed... concerning, Mr. Arc. A semblance with that level of autonomy is, to say the least, highly unusual. And the fact that it reshapes you without your consent..." He let the thought hang in the air, his tone growing heavier.
I stood, the weight of my confession lifting slightly as relief began to seep in. "So... you'll help me, sir?"
Ozpin nodded, rising from his chair with a measured grace. "Of course, Mr. Arc. For now, we'll monitor the changes closely and proceed step by step. Should your semblance present another... 'gift,' I ask that you inform me immediately."
I nodded, preparing to leave. But as I turned toward the door, his voice called out again, softer this time.
"Jaune."
I paused, glancing back.
"Whatever this semblance demands of you, remember: your choices are still your own. Do not let it take that from you."
His words hit harder than I expected, lingering in my mind as I left the office. The setting sun painted Beacon's campus in warm golds and reds as I made my way back, the gears of the clocktower turning slowly behind me.
The walk back to my dorm was... an experience. The unsettling weight of the new eye sat heavily in its socket, a constant reminder of the latest "gift" my semblance had forced upon me. It wasn't painful exactly, but it was far from comfortable. The unfamiliar sensation seemed to claw at my nerves, as if my body hadn't quite adapted to the change yet.
And honestly, popping it out earlier probably didn't help.
When I reached the door to our room, I could hear the familiar sound of my team inside. Nora's voice carried through the door, upbeat but slightly restrained. Pyrrha's calm tone followed, and then Ren's low, measured reply. They were trying to keep the mood light, but I could sense the tension in their voices. They were worried about me.
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Jaune!" Nora was on her feet in an instant, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "You're back! So, what did Ozpin say? Is he sending you off to some secret training camp for super-eyes? Ooh, do you get a cape?!"
Ren put a hand on her shoulder, his silent way of telling her to ease up, but even he was watching me closely. Pyrrha stood, her posture poised as ever, but there was no hiding the slight crease in her brow.
I scratched the back of my neck, forcing a small smile. "No secret training camps, no capes. Ozpin's... he's aware of what's going on. He's going to look into it, but for now, it's just me trying to figure it out as I go."
Pyrrha stepped closer, her voice soft. "Did he offer any advice? Any insight at all?"
I shook my head. "Not much. I don't think even he fully understands what's happening. He said it's unique—uncharted territory."
"Sounds fancy," Nora quipped, but her usual enthusiasm was tempered. "Still, this whole 'random gifts' thing sounds kinda scary. Like, what if it decides you need tentacles or something next time?!"
"Nora," Ren said gently, his tone reproachful, though his eyes didn't leave me.
"It's fine," I said quickly, holding up a hand. "I get it. Honestly, I'm kind of wondering the same thing." I sat down on my bed, running a hand through my hair. "But for now, I just have to roll with it. No point in panicking over what might come next."
Pyrrha pulled up a chair and sat across from me, her emerald eyes steady. "We're here for you, Jaune. You don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together."
Nora flopped onto her bed, her usual grin returning, albeit a little subdued. "Yeah! Team JNPR got your back, fearless leader. Even if you start sprouting extra limbs."
Ren crossed his arms, his gaze calm but firm. "What matters is that we stay focused and approach this with a clear mind. You've already handled this better than most would."
I looked at them, my chest tightening at the sight of their unwavering support. For all the anxiety gnawing at me, I couldn't help but feel grateful.
"Thanks, guys," I said softly. "Really. I don't know what I'd do without you, facing this alone would have been…. hard."
The tension in the room eased a bit, and they returned to their previous conversation. I leaned back against the wall, letting their voices wash over me as I tried to process everything.
"Jaune Arc and Cardin Winchester, go get your combat gear from the lockers and meet back in the arena," Professor Goodwitch announced with her usual clipped tone.
The name "Cardin Winchester" barely registered in my mind as I blinked in mild annoyance. I hadn't really interacted with him before, well he tried to bully me, emphasis on the tried.
The Image popped into my mind, the first and only time Cardin tried to mess with me, Professor Goodwitch was explaining how to program the rocket lockers to us, then Cardin had the brilliant idea of trying to shove me in one, He really couldn't move me so it was kinda pathetic, in my magnanimousness I refused to get in trouble in the first few weeks, so I merely looked him in the eye and issued a Command as the words left my mouth my oath took control of his body for six seconds, his mind unable to oppose me, his eyes widen in panic as his mind registered what I said ….."Shit yourself"
After becoming the laughingstock of the class for a couple of weeks he never really tried again, merely sending me the old stink eye once in a while.
I stood from my seat, keeping my expression neutral. Cardin, seated a few rows away, turned to give me a once-over. His eyes narrowed slightly before curling into a smirk that practically screamed arrogance.
"Guess they're throwing me an easy win," he said loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear. His voice had a mocking edge that grated on my nerves, but I kept my cool.
I could feel the eyes of my team on me as I walked toward the lockers.
"Jaune, good luck," Pyrrha said softly as I passed her. Her tone was calm but held an undercurrent of confidence.
"You've got this, fearless leader!" Nora added, her usual energy cutting through the tension.
Ren didn't say much, just gave me a supportive nod, his calm demeanor as reassuring as ever.
I smiled briefly at them before continuing on my way.
Reaching the lockers, I began suiting up. The gromril chain shirt went on first, its weight familiar and reassuring as it settled over my shoulders. Next came the straps to secure the plates of my armor. Each piece clicked into place with precision, the faint scent of the soap I'd used to clean it two nights ago still lingering. It was a small comfort—knowing my gear was in perfect condition, ready for what was coming.
As I adjusted the straps on my chest plate, I heard heavy boots approaching. I glanced up to see Cardin Winchester striding over, already fully geared up. His armor was bulky but well-kept, and he carried his mace slung lazily over one shoulder like it weighed nothing.
He stopped a few paces away, leaning against a locker with an easy smirk plastered across his face. "Well, looks like I beat you here. Guess that's a preview of what's about to happen out there, huh?"
I tightened a strap, keeping my demeanor calm and friendly. "Not bad. But speed in getting dressed doesn't exactly win fights, does it?"
Cardin snorted, his smirk widening. "Confidence, huh? I like that. Too bad it's not gonna help you when we get in the ring."
I kept my tone light, adjusting the final strap on my armor. "We'll see, won't we? Hopefully, this doesn't create any bad blood between us—I'd hate to tarnish our first impression."
He tilted his head, clearly not expecting that response. For a moment, he seemed to weigh my words the I could see them anger seeping out of his pores, suck to suck loser.
I watched Cardin leave, shaking my head slightly before returning my focus to my gear. I wasn't about to let his bravado distract me. With my sword and shield secured and my armor checked thoroughly, I made my way toward the exit of the locker room.
But just as I reached the door, my vision began to darken. Everything around me faded, and I found myself back at that tree—the same one that appeared whenever my semblance gifted me something new. The moon hung low on the horizon, its surface more vivid than ever through my new eye. I could see every ridge and crevice, the eerie beauty of it captivating me for a moment.
One of the branches above me began to glow. It had been dormant before, but now it shimmered with an otherworldly light. The glow built steadily until it reached a blinding crescendo, and then—just like that—I was back in the locker room. Only this time, something was different.
Hovering above my head was a golden halo, spinning lazily in the air. Tiny square pegs jutted outward from its circumference, giving it the unmistakable appearance of a crown. On the inside of the circle, the Arc family crest swirled and rotated at a slightly faster pace than the halo itself. I reached up instinctively but felt nothing physical—just the faintest warmth radiating from the golden light.
My semblance had given me a new gift: Halo.
The name came to me as naturally as the powers themselves. This latest ability was one of pure defense. The halo significantly bolstered my durability, making me a living tank. Conventional bullets would feel like stings, heavy-caliber rounds would barely faze me, and it would take something as powerful as anti-tank weaponry to knock me unconscious. And that was before considering my aura or my armor.
But, as always, there was a drawback. The halo glowed brightly, its golden hue making stealth or subtlety all but impossible. I wouldn't be blending into a crowd anytime soon. At least it seemed to deactivate when I lost consciousness, so sleep wouldn't be an issue for me—or my teammates.
I paused mid-step and pulled out my scroll. After the meeting with Headmaster Ozpin, he'd given me his personal number for situations exactly like this.
Typing quickly, I sent him a message: "It happened again."
His response came almost immediately. "What happened?"
Deciding to be a little cheeky, I snapped a selfie and sent it to him. The halo spun lazily above my head, its glow almost ethereal in the dim lighting of the locker room.
It took him a few seconds to reply. "What does it do?"
"It's basically Aura 2.0," I typed back. "A little weaker since it's purely defensive, but it massively increases my durability."
Another response followed shortly after. "Meet me after class. Don't worry about hiding it."
With that settled, I tucked my scroll away and squared my shoulders. The golden glow of the halo lit my path as I stepped out of the locker room and into the arena.
The light from the doorway spilled into my eye, making me squint slightly as I stepped forward. It was sharp at first, almost overwhelming after the relative dimness of the locker room. But I kept moving, letting my eyes adjust to the glow. My new eye, with its enhanced capabilities, quickly acclimated, but there was still an oddness to how it interpreted the world—everything seemed a fraction more vivid, a touch more detailed.
The golden light of the halo above me reflected faintly off the metal walls, casting soft, flickering shapes as I walked. My boots echoed in the tunnel as the arena came into view, the wide expanse of the combat classroom opening before me.
At the mouth of the tunnel, I paused for a moment, taking it all in. The combat classroom was as grand as ever—polished floors, reinforced walls, and overhead lighting that seemed almost too clinical. The arena's boundary markings shimmered faintly, a reminder of the protective barriers that would activate during combat to keep students safe from stray attacks.
A few students were already in the stands, chatting and watching idly as matches finished up. I spotted Cardin already standing near the center of the arena, his broad shoulders and confident stance making him easy to pick out. His gear gleamed under the lights, and his smirk was still plastered across his face. He was ready.
I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders to loosen them, and stepped forward, the faint hum of my halo accompanying me.
The light from the doorway spilled into my eye as I stepped forward, squinting against its sharpness. The glow reflected faintly off the walls and onto my armor, shimmering alongside the faint golden radiance of the halo spinning lazily above my head. My boots echoed in the tunnel, but the subtle hum of the halo followed close behind—a quiet but ever-present reminder of my semblance's latest addition.
As I approached the mouth of the tunnel, the wide expanse of the combat classroom came into view. Polished floors stretched out, bordered by reinforced walls designed to withstand the chaos of sparring. Overhead, bright lights cast a clinical glow across the arena, reflecting off its protective barriers, shimmering faintly to remind everyone of the safety net in place.
The arena wasn't empty. Students in the stands—waiting for their turn or simply spectating—turned their heads as I stepped into the light. Whispers followed, hushed but clearly directed at me.
I could feel their eyes on me, the golden circle above my head making it impossible to remain inconspicuous. Whispers rippled through the crowd, a wave of reactions ranging from awe to confusion to outright skepticism. My steps were steady, but I was acutely aware of the attention drilling into me.
My team, at least, tried to keep their reactions subtle—well, most of them. Ren gave me a small, supportive nod, his usual calm demeanor unshaken. Nora, on the other hand, was anything but subtle; she pointed directly at my halo, her hands flying into wild gestures, clearly thrilled by the spectacle. Pyrrha, however, was the one who threw me off. She wasn't whispering or gesticulating like the others, but the soft blush dusting her cheeks stood out. She looked like she wanted to say something but held back, her eyes flickering between the halo and my face.
I kept my expression calm, my gaze forward, as though the glowing crown wasn't even there. Better to stay composed and let them wonder.
Out in the arena, Cardin stood near the center, his broad frame unmistakable. His polished gear glinted under the lights, and his confident smirk widened when he spotted me. If he noticed the halo, he didn't show any reaction, his demeanor unchanged from the cocky bravado he'd shown in the locker room.
I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, loosening them. My armor felt secure, my sword and shield ready. With a steady stride, I stepped fully into the arena, the whispers in the crowd swelling briefly before quieting down.
Cardin tilted his head, his smirk growing slightly. "Finally," he drawled. "Took you long enough."
I didn't rise to the bait. Instead, I simply nodded toward him and took my position. Let the others talk, let them speculate.
Professor Goodwitch stood at the side of the arena, her posture impeccable as always, eyes briefly scanning something on her scroll. With a final tap, she lowered the device and addressed the room in her clipped, professional tone.
"Sync your scrolls to the arena," she commanded, her voice echoing through the space.
Cardin and I both complied, pulling out our scrolls and following the instructions on the screen. The arena buzzed to life as the data synced, and above us, large holograms flickered into existence. They displayed both of our faces along with brightly colored Aura bars that would track our energy levels throughout the match.
I glanced at my hologram. The sight of my face next to the glowing golden halo above my head felt... surreal, thankfully it seemed that headmaster Ozpin updated my school pictures. My gaze flicked over to Cardin's display, his smirking visage staring back at me. He cracked his neck theatrically, clearly enjoying the attention.
"All set?" Professor Goodwitch asked, giving us a once-over.
"Yes, Professor," we replied in unison.
She nodded sharply. "Good. Take your positions."
We moved to our starting positions, the tension in the arena thick as the silence settled over the room. With a flicker of my Aura, its golden light surged to life, a soft hum resonating as my wings materialized on my back in a radiant display.
Professor Goodwitch raised an eyebrow but maintained her composure. "You shall begin when I say 'go.' However, Mr. Arc," she added pointedly, "try not to fly too high. I'd prefer not to deal with any unnecessary damage to the ceiling."
"Yes, Professor," I replied evenly, suppressing a grin.
Preparing myself, I channeled the power of my Oath, casting Divine Protection. A warm, shimmering glow spread across my armor, the light catching in the golden edges of my shield. The effect was both comforting and commanding—a visual declaration of resilience. Across the arena, Cardin was crouched low, his grip on his mace firm as he tensed like a coiled spring.
From his stance, it was clear what he planned: a full-frontal charge. That suited me just fine. I wanted to see just how much I could endure under my semblance's new durability boost.
With a deliberate motion, I unsheathed Crocea Mors, the blade's edge gleaming as frost crystals began to form along its surface, chilling the air around me.
Professor Goodwitch's sharp voice cut through the tension: "Begin!"
The word was barely out of her mouth before Cardin lunged forward, his heavy footfalls echoing against the floor as he charged straight at me.
He was fast, faster than me on the ground, I thought, as Cardin closed the distance.
He charged in, mace raised high, ready to strike. I held my defensive stance, grounded and steady, thanks to the Oath I swore. As Cardin came within striking range, he swung with all his might, aiming for my waist.
The impact was deafening. BAM! His mace struck true—but it didn't feel as brutal as I expected. Sure, I stumbled slightly, but my stance held firm. The hit barely fazed me.
On the arena's screen, my aura dipped from 100% to 97%. But after a moment, it began to regenerate, slowly climbing back to 100%.
Cardin, however, seemed to misread the situation. Instead of following up his successful hit, he hesitated. That hesitation was all I needed.
The arena fell silent. The tension was palpable, every eye locked on us. But it was Nora's loud cheer that shattered the quiet: "Break his legs, fearless leader! Woooo!"
Her enthusiasm snapped me back into focus. I flexed my aura, transferring energy into Crocea Mors as I prepared to strike. Cardin didn't seem to expect it.
I surged forward with a powerful swing, channeling all my strength into the Smite aimed directly at his ribs. The golden light blazed around me as my sword came down.
Cardin reacted just in time, raising his mace to block the blow. His mace caught the edge of my blade, parrying the strike—but not without consequence. The impact sent a shockwave through the arena, the golden light from the strike flashing blindingly bright. Cardin was flung backward, crashing into the ground several feet away, but not without leaving a mark.
I noticed something—Crocea Mors had dug a small trench into the metal of his mace, the edge of my blade slicing into the weapon itself
Seizing the opening, I dug deeper into my aura, drawing on the gravity magic pulsing within me. My eyes glowed a faint yellow as I asserted my control, reaching out to manipulate the world around me. This time, I decided to keep it traditional, focusing on a tried-and-true technique.
With a focused motion, I slammed Crocea Mors into the ground, the blade sinking a few inches into the arena floor with a solid thunk. In front of me, four massive boulders tore themselves free of the earth, crackling with purple light as they floated into position. The energy surged around them as I hurled them toward Cardin with all the force I could muster.
The boulders rocketed through the air, moving with terrifying speed, their jagged edges glinting under the arena lights.
Professor Goodwitch shot me a glare from the sidelines, her disapproval clear in the way her brow furrowed. Still, she refrained from commenting in the middle of the fight, likely understanding the stakes.
I glanced at my aura display—88%. The cost of the Rock Sling was significant, but it was still within a safe range. I could feel it slowly recharging, but Cardin's aura was in a much worse state. It hovered in the low 70s now, a result of the damage from my Smite earlier, leaving him vulnerable.
To his credit, Cardin rallied quickly, shaking off his initial shock and regaining his composure. With a swing of his mace, he managed to intercept one of the boulders, shattering it midair and breaking my control over it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't stop the other three. The remaining stones slammed into him in quick succession, their sheer weight forcing his knees to buckle as they piled atop him with a relentless force.
His aura flared brilliantly under the onslaught, glowing aggressively as it fought to shield him from the coarse rock. Despite the punishment, it held strong—barely.
Seeing an opening, I swung my sword with precision, unleashing a series of slow-moving golden energy beams. They weren't particularly fast, but they served their purpose, forcing Cardin to remain constantly on the move. He darted back and forth, his focus consumed by evading the radiant strikes. The relentless barrage left him little room to analyze the battlefield.
That was exactly what I needed.
I closed the distance between us in a burst of speed, and with another Smite, the golden light surged forth and struck him squarely. The impact sent him flying into the air like a ragdoll. Before he could recover, I thrust my sword into the ground again, casting Blades of Stone where I anticipated his landing point. The arena floor cracked and shifted, sharp, jagged spires of stone erupting upward in a deadly formation.
Cardin landed awkwardly amidst the spikes, his back arching painfully against the unforgiving rock. His aura flickered dangerously, strained to its limit. The angle of his fall was unfortunate, making his situation appear all the more dire.
By now, only a small amount of time had passed since the match began, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted dramatically. The crowd had fallen silent, save for a few voices.
Team JNPR, on the other hand, was making plenty of noise.
Nora, bless her heart, was practically vibrating with excitement, pointing at me and loudly extolling my virtues to anyone who would listen. "That's our Jaune! Did you see that? He's unstoppable!" she shouted, her enthusiasm echoing through the arena.
Pyrrha, ever the supportive partner, managed to coax Ruby into cheering for me as well. Even Ren, stoic as always, was offering subtle but sincere claps of approval.
The rest of the audience, however, was eerily quiet, their collective gaze fixed on me. The golden halo above my head and the devastating display of power I'd shown left them in stunned silence.
I couldn't let their reactions distract me. My focus remained on Cardin, watching for any sign that he might rally again. His aura meter was teetering on the edge, but the fight wasn't over yet.
Cardin's mace, The Executioner, lay at my feet, abandoned after the Smite had flung him into the air. Why he hadn't used dust to disrupt me earlier was anyone's guess—maybe he'd underestimated me? Or maybe the ever-climbing dust prices made him reluctant to use it freely. Either way, I wasn't complaining. Crocea Mors, being "just" a sword, spared me that hassle entirely.
In the distance, Cardin stirred, groaning as he dragged himself from the jagged pit of spikes. His aura flickered, valiantly shielding him from the barbed rocks, though his scratched and dented armor bore the brunt of my earlier attacks. Bit by bit, he crawled free, stopping just outside the trap to catch his breath.
Trying to keep things sporting—or maybe to poke fun at his earlier bravado—I nudged The Executioner with my foot, sending it skidding across the ground toward him. He glanced up, his expression a mixture of wariness and confusion. With a subtle wave of my hand, I gathered my aura into the spell and cast Command.
"Pick it up" I said, my voice layered with a force that reverberated through the arena.
Cardin froze, his knuckles tightening as he hesitated. His will resisted, his aura flickering in defiance of the compulsion. A bead of sweat formed on his temple, and for a moment, I thought he'd shrug it off. So, I doubled down, digging deeper into my reserves and lacing my next words with even more force.
"Pick. It. Up."
The words hit him like a physical blow. His resistance crumbled, and he lurched forward, snatching the weapon off the ground. His expression burned with frustration, a mixture of shame and anger that only seemed to fuel his charge. With a roar, he rushed at me, his aura pooling into his legs for a burst of speed.
"Not so cocky now, huh?" I taunted, sidestepping his initial swing and deflecting the follow-up strike with my shield.
His response was a growl, his strikes coming faster and harder. "Shut up and fight me, glowstick!"
"Oh, I'm fighting," I said, parrying another swing and delivering a quick jab to his side. "You're just not winning."
His mace clipped my shoulder, sending a jolt through my armor. "You talk too much," he snapped, swinging for my head.
"Only because it's so easy to get under your skin," I replied, ducking under the swing and countering with a knee to his chest. His aura flashed, absorbing the blow but dropping into the low 30s. "Though, I'll admit, you've got good aim."
Cardin didn't answer, focusing instead on delivering a series of rapid blows. His strikes were relentless, forcing me to give ground. A few managed to land on less-armored spots, making my aura dip into the 60s before it started climbing back up. Still, his attacks were growing sloppy, his movements sluggish. His aura was down to the 20s now, flickering dangerously.
"Good effort," I said, stepping back and readying my sword for a finishing strike. "But it's time to end this."
Pooling my aura into Crocea Mors, I unleashed another Smite, aiming for the weakened trench in his mace. Cardin raised mace to block, but the radiant energy was too much. Crocea Mors bit into the damaged weapon, freezing the metal before shattering the head clean off. The golden energy continued through, slamming into his chest and sending him flying across the arena.
Cardin hit the ground hard, sliding several feet before coming to a stop. His aura flickered one last time before cutting out entirely. The buzzer blared, signaling the end of the match.
"That's enough!" Professor Goodwitch's voice rang out, her tone sharp.
Panting, I looked up at the scoreboard. Cardin's aura was at 10%, while mine sat at 53%, slowly climbing again.
Professor Goodwitch stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the arena. "Students, as you can see, Mr. Winchester's aura has dropped into the red. In a tournament setting, this would indicate that he is no longer fit to continue, and the match would be called."
She turned to Cardin. "Mr. Winchester, you showed commendable determination. However, your hesitation and failure to capitalize on openings cost you the match. In close combat, commitment is key."
Then her gaze snapped to me. "And you, Mr. Arc, while your performance was... effective, I strongly suggest you learn restraint. The arena is not your personal sandbox."
Her eyes flicked to the shattered terrain, the jagged spikes, and the craters I'd left behind. With a flick of her wrist, she began repairing the arena using her semblance. I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. "Yes, Professor. Sorry about that."
The students erupted into murmurs as I walked back to the bleachers. Whispers followed me like a shadow, some awestruck, others skeptical.
"Did you see that? He broke Cardin's weapon!"
"What's with the halo? Is it a semblance or something?"
"I don't know, but he's... kinda scary, right?"
Reaching my team, I was immediately engulfed in one of Nora's signature hugs. "That was AMAZING!" she shrieked, spinning me around like a ragdoll. "Fearless leader, you were all like zap and boom, and Cardin was all like waaah!"
Ren offered a small clap. "Good work."
Pyrrha smiled warmly, though her cheeks were faintly pink. "That was impressive."
As we made our way up the stairs, students stepped aside to let me pass. A few whispered, their eyes fixed on the golden halo spinning above my head.
"Man, Pyrrha," I said, keeping my voice low. "Is this what it's like for you all the time? The staring?"
She chuckled softly. "It's... something you get used to. Eventually."
"I sure hope so," I muttered, casting a glance at the crowd. This was my life now. For better or worse
With a quick cough, Professor Goodwitch redirected the students' attention back to herself. She had used her semblance to gather the broken fragments of Cardin's mace and friction-weld them back together. It wasn't a perfect fix—the weapon would definitely need proper repairs from Beacon's blacksmith or whoever handled equipment maintenance—but for now, it was in one piece. Cardin, on the other hand, looked furious. No, scratch that—beyond furious. His clenched fists and tight jaw radiated frustration, though he wisely stayed quiet.
Professor Goodwitch cleared her throat again. "Remember, everyone, the Vytal Festival is only a few months away. It won't be long before students from the other kingdoms begin arriving in Vale, so I suggest you all start practicing in earnest."
Around me, the atmosphere shifted instantly. A buzz of excitement rippled through the student body. Team RWBY, seated nearby, practically vibrated with energy. Yang, for reasons only known to her, had even started shadowboxing, throwing quick jabs into the air with a grin on her face.
I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at my own team. "Are we participating?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.
The response was immediate. "YESSSSS!" Nora practically shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. Pyrrha smiled warmly and gave a decisive nod, while Ren, as usual, kept his agreement subtle—a small shrug and a knowing look.
Fair enough, I thought. Our team wasn't bad. No, scratch that—we were strong. I'd bet on us against any of the other teams in our year. Not because of ego or anything, but because this was my team. And I trusted them with everything.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, but Professor Goodwitch wasn't finished yet. "For those who choose to participate," she continued, her voice cutting through the chatter, "remember that you will be representing all of Vale. Conduct yourselves accordingly."
With her final words hanging in the air, the students began streaming out of the arena, heading toward the cafeteria. I followed my team at first, but then broke off. I had a meeting with Professor Ozpin.
CP Bank: 600cp
Perks earned this chapter :
100cp: Gravity Sorcery- (Elden Ring - Caelid Wilds)- [Modus]
Many of those who followed the demigod Radahn took after their general, learning at least a bit of the arcane. You have learned more than most, and are capable of utilizing gravitational sorceries. Be it flinging around masses of stone, sending out projectiles that draw others into it, even a kind of pseudo telekinesis. You are far from your general's peak, but everyone must start somewhere.
400cp: Dragonborn- (Fate/Legends - Servant Universe)-[Source]
Part Human, part Dragon, all Saber. Through some quirk of your birth, a magical ritual by Merlin himself or being the actual child of a cosmic dragon, you inherit several traits of the purest Dragonkind. The most important is the magical energy conversion furnace inside you, a Magic Core that produces vast amounts of magical energy simply by the act of breathing. Where others might take days to replenish a fully depleted supply, you take only a few minutes. You're far more capable of using all this energy as well, channeling it with greater ease and much less strain than someone that relied on magical circuits, and able to rely entirely on your internal energy in case of external magic being absent. Your actual supply itself is vast, outmatching all but the strongest of Servants that are still limited to a terrestrial scale.
At times, these Sabers do display draconic traits. They find things relating to dragons to be easier to learn and that their powers can naturally take on wyrm-like forms, energy blasts forming into jagged dragon heads to bite foes and such. The reverse is that they become somewhat more vulnerable to anti-dragon attribute attacks, since they are themselves part dragon.
200cp: Volo's Ersatz Eye (Baldur's Gate 3) [Divination]
After a dubious surgery concerning one of your own two eyes (you choose which one), you have unfortunately lost it permanently. But no need to fret, Volo has a perfect solution for you! Your lost eye has been replaced by a magical prosthetic that is in the shape of glass eye with a silvery iris color. This eye is capable of all the things a normal eye can do and more.
Your vision with these eyes becomes much clearer than normal sight. By closing your intact eye and focusing your vision on solely this one, you zoom in and out just as well as a telescope can do. You can see through illusions that effect only sight and detect invisible creatures that are trying to hide within your line of sight.
Told you it was better.
free: Halo- (Blue Archive)-[Benevolence]
You have a halo floating over your head, an embodiment of the Mystic imbued in every student in Kivotos. This halo increases your physical durability, with bullets only causing some stinging, rather than penetrating the body. Even taking a tank shot to the face will only knock you unconscious for a short period of time. You and the halo are not immune to harm though, as dedicated effort or powerful enough equipment can overcome the halo's durability. Every halo has a unique design, and they vanish whenever you are asleep or otherwise unconscious.
Milestone reached this chapter :
400cp bibbidi boobaty boop : Unlock a magical power
