Chapter Text
“An Arc never goes back on his word,” was what Jaune texted to his only contact within his phone at the moment, which was Cinder.
Maybe that wasn’t the entire statement. It was more on the lines of a hastily typed-up, “Hey Cinder, I’ll be gone for a while. I don’t really know when I’ll be back but I will be back. I’ll text and call you when I can, alright?” Jaune quickly poured over the message and sent it as he stepped forward to match the pace of the airport security line.
“And an Arc never goes back on his word,” he typed and sent towards Cinder’s scroll.
‘I cannot believe you used that on her,’ The Rusted Knight spoke up with annoyance evident in his voice.
“Used what?” Jaune mumbled back.
‘Arc’s word, I cannot believe that you used Arc’s word on Cinder Fall! That is supposed to be a special obligation used for decent people!’ lividly replied.
In response, Jaune mumbled back slightly louder, “Well, maybe Cinder is a decent person right now and maybe not a murderous psychopath who wants to end the world.”
‘Yeah, the keyword is ‘right now,’ what if-’
Jaune cut his less-than-rational counterpart off, “Do you think abandoning Cinder would do any better? A nine-year-old kid who just needs help? If we go with your ‘plan’ she is going to get worse.”
‘Who said anything about abandoning?’ The Rusted Knight replied as he made a slitting throat motion with his hand, ‘I’m just saying that if we kill her this would be a lot more simpl-’
“Do I have to go over this again? I am not going to kill Cinder when she can change!” Jaune mumbled with restrained outrage, “Plus, we are in public and you are making me look crazy, so shut up.”
‘Just go to the bathroom so we can talk about, oh I don’t know, THE FUTURE OF THE WORLD!’
“Ugh,” was Jaune’s reply to the Rusted Knight as he pulled out his scroll and put it to his ear so that he could talk to his alter-ego while not looking insane.
‘Can I talk to you now?’ The Rusted Knight spoke up with an evident patronizing tone.
Jaune rolled his eyes, “Yeah sure.”
‘Well good, because we can at least agree on one thing. Saving Ren and Nora,” the visitant paused for an incredibly brief moment to let the gears spin in Jaune's head, “So what’s the plan?’ The Rusted Knight (to Jaune’s relief) shifted the topic.
“I rush to Kuroyuri, kill the Nuckelavee, see if the both of them are safe and that Ren’s parents are alive, and leave.”
‘I hope there’s more to that because how are you going to kill a Nuckalevee? One of the more dangerous Grimm that exists?’
“I bought dust grenades for a reason,” he said, gently shaking around the blast-proof - and more importantly, airport-safe - briefcase he held in his left hand, “I’ll try to incapacitate and stun it with blast grenades, then I’ll use Crocea Mors to try and cut off his legs. Once his mobility is crippled, I’ll go for the arms, then the head.”
‘Crocea Mors? That rusty, broken sword?’ The uncompromising parallel said with skepticism.
Jaune grits his teeth with anger at the sheer disrespect that he is showing to Crocea Mors. But to prevent an outburst he took a few deep breaths to calm himself, “Yes, it’s the only sword I have and I don’t have the time to repair it.”
‘Yeah, you make a good point there. Crocea Mors has been through a lot with us,’ The Rusted Knight agreed for what felt like the first time in forever.
Jaune dug up his identification and boarding pass from his pockets as he listened to the airport security officer repeat over and over again about taking off your jacket, putting your electronics within separate bins, and the like.
“Mind if you leave, I’m almost at the airport security check-in.”
‘Yeah sure, we’ll talk more later. I’ve got other things to bring up with you.’
Jaune only felt annoyance at The Rusted Knight’s statement as he knelt and untied his leather boots.
A calm quiet was heard throughout the room in Connor’s hotel room as he sat on his bed, struggling to take off his tight penny loafers. As soon as he placed his foot on the Bullhead, a sense of lethargy filled his soul. He always fell asleep during Bullhead rides and other forms of aerial transport. Perhaps it was the white noise that the engines gave off, or the sense of boredom. Unluckily, he did not fall asleep on this ride.
Finally taking off his last shoe, he brought over his briefcase and laid it on the bed, unclasping its latches.
Opening up the case, revealed a stack of well-organized papers. Mission orders of various kinds. Civil duties, Grimm census data collected from previous months, unusual sightings, defense orders for frontier towns and colonies far from the cities, and training the local militias and police departments.
He skimmed through the papers. Mind-numbing as they may be, they are necessary in his line of work.
For the week, he was to tour around and scout out the frontier towns and use Kuroyuri as his ‘base of operations.’
Kuroyuri was a growing town and it has the potential to grow into something much larger and prosperous than its current state. He’s even heard that consumer industries were being established rather than your standard agrarian and dust mining export businesses that frontier towns make to generate capital.
Placing the assorted papers back into their case, he got up and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It was relatively late, and with the feeling of tiredness already plaguing his body, it would make sense for him to go to sleep to tackle the challenges for the next day.
Especially for the trip to Kuroyuri. Luckily, Atlas saw it fitting to provide him with a moped for quicker and safer travels.
Perhaps he’ll pick up some breakfast before hitting the road. He hasn’t had any for a while. Maybe banana lumpia with honey drizzled on top? Connor researched and read that it was one of Mistral’s many culinary delights. Connor had a soft spot for honey. It was much more mellow than the other sweets he had encountered in Atlas.
The taste of vomit was still prevalent in Jaune’s mouth as he walked outside of the wall that the city provided. Still, after a decade of surviving in the Ever After and odd time-travel shenanigans, to think he would be rid of his motion sickness.
He took a swig of water from his canteen to wash away the taste the bile created. Metal clinked and clanged as the duffel bag shifted around ever so slightly as Jaune slid into the canteen into the outer pockets to free up his hands.
Jaune put his hands into the pockets of his jeans, inhaling the humid Mistralian air.
Sometimes he cannot believe how ordinary everything looks. Of course, he is not discounting the beauty world that he is in, that would be absurd. It was more or less the adjustment of the environment that still caught him off guard. No cartoon gags were lying around the corner, and no bright, silly, colorful, and quippy characters bothered him.
It was just ordinary, boring, and beautiful nature around him. No gimmick or trick. Just gorgeous, boring trees paired with plain bushes burdened with ordinary berries that thankfully were not diamond-shaped and tasted as if clouds were blue.
The taste was freaking horrible. One of the reasons he tried it was because the Afterans said that it tasted like blue cotton candy.
It did not taste like blue cotton candy.
He increased the pace of his stride, moving further and further from the walls of the city.
Urgency and anxiety swelled in the middle of his chest as soon as he was reminded of the task he had to accomplish.
‘Take a deep breath, relax your shoulder muscles, they look very tense and exhale deep,’ the Rusted Knight advised, ‘We don’t want to attract Grimm, they'll just slow us down.’
Jaune followed the steps that were given to him as he cracked his neck, relieving tension in the cervical vertebrae.
He tread the dirt road for a few moments more before spotting a sturdy log, lying parallel to the ground.
Marching near it, he threw down his duffel bag in very close proximity towards it creating a loud and shrill sound as the metal armor scratched upon each other.
Jaune sat on the log as he rummaged through the contents of which, acquiring his armor and donning it piece by piece.
After placing all the arms, legs, chest, and greaves on his body, his right hand reached into the duffel bag and grabbed his helmet.
He held the helmet in his hands while looking deeply at it.
Jaune continued to gaze at the helmet, staring through the viewport. His hand stroked the helmet, the rust, small divots, and scratches being felt through his glove.
Staring at the viewport, Jaune lifted the helmet level to his head. Tightness and tension swelling in his chest, his heart pumping warm blood as he could feel the heat in his ears.
He took a deep breath, loosening the tight feeling in his upper torso. He hated this suit. Despised even. The iron oxide that coated his armor could rub off onto Jaune’s flesh and stain it orange-brown. It was difficult to wash off. The armor was tight on his body and during times of exhaustion, it was heavy.
It was also a reminder of the past. Or the past future? Future past maybe? This time travel stuff was confusing to him, to say the least. And it just became more incredibly confusing the more he tried to explore and reason about the gravity of his predicament.
Nevertheless, the armor, the sword, and even his hair served as a reminder of the cruel days of old. Even when everything seemed to reset and when he should move past it. How does one even move past such a string of events that he went through? Only he served as a tatter of what was to come. Only he was burdened with such disgraceful knowledge.
‘Ready when you are,’ affirmed the Rusted Knight.
Ready?
Well, there was a reason why Jaune had a case of dust grenades. The Nora of his time would have been proud.
“It's not like I have a decent sword anyways…” he mumbled, donning his helmet once again to take up another quest.
Whether he would fail or not, only time would tell.
Li Ren sat around the campfire with his compatriots, members of the town militia of which he was in charge. He focused on the crackle of the fire as the members of his hunting expedition chatted and hung pieces of game over the fire.
“So Mr. Ren,” he focused his sight from the fire to the young man who was calling for his attention, “How’d you end up like this?”
“How do you mean?” Li replied with confusion.
“Sorry, sorry,” he reeled back, “Bad wording, uhh,” he stalled, “How did you become one of the village leaders I guess…” further explained.
“It was relatively easy I suppose…” Li answered as the shattered moon shone above, “I was in the militia for a while, received my certifications, applied for the position, and did my job well.”
“I’m not talking about that! Almost everybody in Kuroyuri knows that stuff,” he rebutted, “Like, you got a backstory or something. Almost every huntsman does! Just like in the comics!”
“My parents instilled a sense of duty and honor in me if that suits your need for a story.”
“Is there anything more to that?” Li shook his head in response, “Like, did your parents die while you were young?”
“They passed away peacefully in their sleep due to old age.”
“So no dramatic backstory?”
“I don’t think you would find anything exciting from me.”
An awkward silence befell the camp as the fire continued to burn on, uncaring of human prattle until Li stood up from the dirt and spoke, “We’re close to Kuroyuri, if we set out now we can make it back home quick,” he continued to dole out orders, “Someone, make torches and put out that fire, the rest of you, gather your things and let’s move.”
The group, instead of appearing at Kuroyuri under an expected starry night, walked through its gate as the sun rose, indicating a fresh new dawn. Fresh sets of baggy eyes lined almost every member of the expedition because staying up for 24 hours or more while doing physical activity throughout can take its toll on the physical and mental aspects of the body.
“Mr. Ren,” the young man from the campfire strolled near him, walking as if he was half dead due to the absurd trek home, “You’re great and all, but please don’t make us do that again,” he said as he proceeded to trudge away.
Taking note of that within the depths of his mind, he sought out his way towards the mayor of the town. He had multiple issues he needed to bring up to them. The first was the paperwork. The mayor sure did love the unnecessary Byzantine bureaucracy with endless amounts of paper stained with ink.
And a significantly more pressing matter was the recruitment crisis. The local militia was, to be succinct, severely understaffed. When they left for their hunting expedition, Li had to leave the town with a skeleton force. Luckily no one found out lest the general mood of Kuroyuri would sour.
He had some theories on why nobody signed up or stayed. The first was the most obvious, it was a very dangerous job. Secondly, pay and benefits were too low to justify said risk. Third was that all the young teenagers and potential Huntsman and Huntresses would enlist for only a year and then run off to Haven Academy or Beacon to pursue something more greater and fulfilling.
Li tried to delay this news because he was perturbed at the mayor’s future actions. That decision was mandatory conscription. It would be deeply unpopular and since the mayor was aligned with the majority party in the provincial council, it would be difficult to revert the following conscription acts, even if the general populace (minus the saber rattlers) would hate it.
He continued to walk around the town, enjoying the beauty of the architecture, the rustle of the wind, and the sight of the appetizing assortment of baked goods.
Continuing to walk, Li heard the commotion of what sounded to be children. A scuffle maybe? Turning the corner he found a gaggle of prepubescent bullies hounding a girl. And to his dismay, his son, who was spectating in hesitation. Fear?
Lie turned around to dash away, but Li’s body proved to be an obstacle to his flight. Lie looked up to his dad whilst on the ground, “Father?” Lie said, meeting his dad’s eyes.
Li looked up from his son to address the gang of little terrors in front of him, “What is happening here?”
The electric-dust-powered motors of Connor’s motorbike hummed lightly as the gates to the town of Kuroyuri opened before him.
Finally, after a grueling ride on the shoddily maintained roads, he was in the town of Kuroyuri. Nothing to keep him company besides himself and the nature surrounding him. He must admit, the sunset looked beautiful.
Connor lamented the fact that he forgot to take a photo for his collection. It reminded him of specialist training when they had to undergo survival school. But bygones are bygones, and he needs to start operations as soon as he can.
He lightly accelerated the moped to enter town to start his work, ‘Maybe after I get some sleep,’ he monologues in his head. He’d much rather get some rest as he didn’t use Exhaustion Delay during the trip to conserve his aura.
Suddenly, and without warning, an ear-splitting screech erupted from the skies. He looked up as the all too familiar flaps and red eyes dived from above.
“OH SH-” a Mistralian militia member shouted, before a convenient (not really) Nevermore landed on the wall, screeching and providing a frightful censor to their swear.
Connor instantly activated his semblance, washing away the drowsiness to combat the threats in front and above him.
Gunshots rang about as he unfolded Unusual Incidents to their rifle form. He aligned the reticle on his scope on the Nevermore and fired a preloaded high-explosive round - vaporizing only one of the dozens of Nevermore descending from the sky.
Retreating backward - deeper into Kuroyuri - he loaded in a proximity airburst round and then fired into the air, knocking out another.
“Drats,” he thought to himself as he peered within his munitions pouch. He did not have enough ammo to deal with this misfortune alone.
Fortunately, he was an Atlesian. Specifically, an Atlesian specialist who has access to assets others could not ascertain.
Connor pulled out his scroll and dialed the nearest military base Atlas had set up within Mistral as he ran deeper and deeper into town.
Ring, ring, ring, is what Connor heard from the scroll until finally: “This is Fort Haven, state your purpose and identification code for this call,” the communications officer bluntly asked.
Dashing into an alleyway he curtly replied, “This is Specialist Connor Rockham, identification code H2NHJ3CY,” he heard the scraping of a pencil from the speakers, “I am situated in the town of Kuroyuri and it is under assault by numerous Grimm attackers. I am requesting immediate military support.”
A pregnant pause became of the conversation until the officer replied, “Roger that, notifying nearby Mistralian huntsmen and sending a troop transport outfitted with a rotary cannon. Estimated time of arrival of the transport - 20 minutes.”
“Copy that, signing off.”
“Shit,” That was not enough time for reinforcements to arrive. He couldn’t neutralize the Grimms all by himself, the next best thing to do was to at least cull some of the Nevermore’s. The militia could handle the Beowulves, but the Nevermores needed something with a little more range.
He saw a ladder and proceeded to climb to the roof. As soon as he got upon the top, he loaded an armor-piercing round and fired at another Nevermore.
Not to toot his own horn, but he felt like he was the epitome of the adage, “one shot, one kill.”
He continued to fire all of his ammunition until every round was shot, landing almost every single bullet upon the soulless targets.
Now it was time for melee combat. He wasn’t exactly top of his class, but he can still perform proficiently and leagues better than some villager with a pointy stick.
Hopping from the roof, he switched Unusual Incidents from rifle into bo-staff form. Giving it a flourish as he landed.
He inserted an electric dust vial within and switched on the pylons, the electrical hum filling the air as darts of electricity sprouted off from the tip.
“COME AND GET ME!” Somebody far shouted. Perhaps that was a nearby huntsman Atlas notified. They must have been nearby if they came here so quickly. Either way, he was glad somebody came. Only 18 minutes until heavy support came by. He needed to buy time.
“COME AND GET ME!” Jaune shouted as a Nevermore dived towards someone's house. It must have smelt their fear.
The Nevermore kept diving towards the house, not hearing Jaune’s shout or just not caring at all. In response, Jaune dropped his suitcase chock full of explosives, uprooted a small four-foot-tall tree, and threw it at the diving Nevermore.
The tree broke into two upon impact at the Nevermore and stopped its dive, turning his head at Jaune.
The foul beast shrieked and charged towards Jaune. To counter, Jaune picked up the pot the tree was in and chucked it at the Nevermore.
The pot shattered against the nevermore, but it didn’t slow its charge. Jaune drew Crocea Mors from his back and took up a defensive stance, waiting for the Nevermore to come close enough to strike.
His feet remained stalwart to the dirt as the Nevermore continued its ferocious charge. It was only thirty feet away.
It then became twenty.
Then it became ten, utter focus was placed on the Nevermore as the bells rang in the background.
And at last, it became close enough to strike. With one perfectly timed swing, the Nevermore dissipated into nothingness.
His armor rattled as he looked around the immediate vicinity. The commotion was heard from within the house. Doors slamming open and closed he suspected, “Lie get up, we have to go!” Jaune ever so faintly heard.
Wait, Lie-
He was rattled out of his thoughts as a man clothed in green rushed by, crashing open the front door to the house he was in front of, basically ignoring Jaune.
“An! What are you doing?” What was presumed to be Lie’s dad panickedly shouted, “We need to hurry!” Jaune stared at the family inside in shock. He was just so unimaginably relieved that Ren was safe.
Jaune got to the village later than he needed to be. Even when sprinting the last few kilometers. He saw packs of Beowulves just barely being held back at the walls by rifles when he entered the town.
He sighed an unimaginably large breath of relief as his chest loosened. He was here, and Lie’s family and himself were in relative safety. A tear nearly dropped out of his eye.
‘Job’s not done yet,’ The Rusted Knight interrupted, ‘We still have to get them to safety and make sure that Nora is safe too.’
“Yeah, I was getting to that,” He was actually just about to do that. There was no reason for his alter-ego to keep explaining his own thoughts to himself.
Jaune pointed his attention back to Lie’s family and eavesdropped on their conversation, “No…” Lie’s dad said in dismay, “I saw the beast,” the Nuckelavee Jaune assumed, and he picked up the grenade case, “We need a Huntsman, and you two need to leave.”
“I’m a Huntsman,” Jaune swallowed his saliva, “I can help.”
Jaune stared at the young Ren as the family stared back.
Li stepped outside to meet Jaune, “Good, I can lead you towards it,” he looked back at his family with softened eyes, filled with love and fear, “Please, you need to run from here.”
The Nuckalevee’s vile shriek razed through the air, “Mother,” Lie said with dread coursing through his veins. He’d never seen a Grimm except on a scroll or a book, never in real life.
An knelt down and met Ren - consoling him, “It’s okay darling, everything is okay.”
An stood up and held her son’s hand as they started to walk quickly towards the outside, where danger lay. Lie was horribly scared, but he had to pull through.
The pair finally met the grim air outside, meeting both the hunter and the knight. They both approached Li.
“Please be safe,” An pleaded.
Li grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for the tightest hug she had ever felt in her life, and Lie joined as well, clinging onto both of their legs.
Enjoying the embrace for a short moment (even though it felt so long) they finally let go.
And so the winds of fate blew over Remnant, guiding An and Lie as they ran towards salvation, where they could continue living life. Who knows if they would see their husband and father again. Only destiny shall tell.
Li turned his head away from the road where his son and wife were running, “Do you have a plan?” he asked the Knight.
Jaune lifted up his grenade case.
“Seems to be a good plan.”