Sneaking His Way into the Multiverse (RWBY Jaune, WC-lite mechanics)

[LazyAutumnMoon]

If there was one lesson that Jaune Arc (Huntsman-in-Training, one-time fraudster, natural blond, and currently in over his head) has ever learned from his bully, it was how to escape a locker. After the third time, it behooved oneself to figure out that sort of thing.

See, there's a latch. Get that latch to turn far enough, and the door unlocks. Simple.

The fact that all the leverage was on the other side can be an obstacle, true, compounded by the springs and gears keeping the latch in place being built to withstand the capsule flying, then hitting the ground, at 370 miles per hour. With how often the rocket function got used, the lockers saw weekly maintenance, too, so he could expect this thing to be in tip-top, people-confining shape.

Yet, he had discovered that all these problems were surmountable with sufficient motivation. A full bladder was usually the catalyst for him to succeed in previous incidents. Today…well, today his need to escape carried a bit more urgency than the norm. He'd even go further to say that it's one of those do-or-die moments.

Pyrrha was on her way to face the fire lady. Prior to which, she pushed him in the locker and launched him into the sky. That was after she kissed him, which he thought was really nice right up until he discovered it had been a trick to shove him in here. There's also the aforementioned fire lady, a magic lady, Ozpin trying to get the magic lady inside Pyrrha, more Grimm than he had ever seen, a Grimm dragon, White Fang, robots, people dying his friends are in danger and holy freaking damn he's got to get out there and DO SOMETHING!

The latch snapped off, crushed in the grip of a hand clad in white Aura, and the door blasted open to reveal a dark night sky.

Above him, a cloud drifted away to reveal that pale, broken celestial body he'd always loved to see. The shattered moon, an imperfect orb trailed by its innumerable fragments. It had never looked so near.

…Oh. Right. That's probably due to the next problem facing him.

The wind ripped him from the confines of the locker, and Jaune found himself in the sky over Beacon amidst airships and Grimm. A particularly hungry-looking Griffon had taken notice of this tasty treat, and was swooping down.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no—"

Fumbling with his sword, he tried to unsheathe Crocea Mors. Too late, red eyes and a gaping maw filled his vision. The rancid stench of Grimm washed over the Huntsman as the Griffon prepared to swallow him whole.

Of all the courses of action he could take, Jaune saw one desperate plan where he lived beyond the next three seconds. He shoved his weapon, held horizontally with the edge standing vertical, into the mouth as it chomped down, right at the base where the two halves of the beak meet. Bone struck steel with a clang, stopping cold.

He could have wept, such was the relief that he yet lived. Sadly, his joy failed to last long. The Grimm began shaking him every which way in a mindless attempt to dislodge the sword. Up, down, left, right, the wild movements triggered his motion sickness. Coupled with the texture of the slimy tongue and the smell of the Griffon's breath, bile quickly rose to the top of his throat. But while throwing up onto the Grimm sounded quite decent as a final middle finger to his would-be killer, he stuck to the plan and reached for a button on Crocea Mors. A press, and with explosive force the sheath unfurled to form a heater shield, wrenching open the beak until, with the snapping sound of tension giving way, the Griffon's head ripped in two.

Then Jaune threw up. Man, Grimm, and puke fell together through the air. He noted that they were much closer to the ground than before the Griffon tried to eat him. His struggles against being lunch had dragged his foe below the aerial battle going on above, and the fall looked much more survivable from this height. It was still going to hurt, though.

The Grimm slammed onto the spire of a building, the tip spearing it through. If it wasn't fully dead before, it sure was now. Most of the puke landed on the dissipating corpse, so Jaune got that last insult in, after all. He himself fell past the Griffon to collide with the roof. From head to toe his body lit up in agony. A long, pained sob escaped his mouth. He bounced once, twice, then slid on the steep incline towards the edge. Through a haze, his mind screamed at his body to do something if it didn't want to plunge to the ground. A part of Jaune shouted a warning that it'd hurt as much as the first drop; the rest of him sat up to take notice. In the scramble to find purchase, he slammed the edge of his shield against the yellow slate tiles, scraping a long furrow to slow his descent. He came to a stop with only inches to spare.

Jaune laid there, heaving for breath as the reality of everything that had just happened hit him. It couldn't have been more than five minutes, yet his ordeal felt like it lasted hours.

"I—I'm alive! I can't believe I'm still alive!" He shouted, laughing.

But then, he recalled the wider conflict taking place all over Beacon, and sobered up. What he had managed was just the first step. The long road to the emerald tower laid before him, starting with getting off this roof.

The unfortunate issue here was that he couldn't see any access doors on this thing. The only way down required going over the edge, where he could hopefully swing into a window using an acrobatic move he knew he cannot do. See? E-easy!

Peering over the lip of the roof, he searched for an outcropping. There weren't any, but his hopes for aid swelled when movements far below on the ground captured his attention. He recognized the messy (yet stylishly silky and flowing) crow's nest of a hairdo. That's Jax Darkphenix, Team RWBY's boyfriend!

And damned if that still wasn't weird to say after almost two semesters. Some guys have all the luck. Absolute, unbelievable luck.

He was about to call down for help, but stopped as he saw the other boy raise his twin katanas. Despite the urgency of his task, Jaune waited. If enemies were in range, distracting his ally may well put them in danger.

Jax slapped his katanas together, transforming it into an assault rifle. Oddly, there didn't seem to be any Grimm, White Fang, or robots in the immediate vicinity. What was he doing?

He lifted it to aim down the sights. Following the direction of the gun revealed a—wait, wha—?

Bang!

WHAT THE FUCK!?

-o-​

Jax Darkphenix POV

Shit shit shit, it was all going to shit!

One measly Point! The girl was a complete trash mob!

Sadly, Jax Darkphenix has come to realize that the so-called 'elite warriors' of this world amounted to jack all when they possessed no plot relevance. He'd hoped this one might have some value, being a pretty girl in a world where 90% of the important characters were pretty girls, but nope. 1 Point. This felt sucky enough when he had to start going for the females after shooting too many of the dudes, but for them to be worthless, too? Sucks.

Uuurgh! That green-headed chick in the distance—whatever her name was—definitely carried a higher value, he knew that for a fact since he remembered her showing up a couple times in the cartoon. If she would just stop zipping around, he'd have popped her already. It's like she was mocking him.

Giving it another shot, he changed his NGSW XM7 6.8×51mm assault rifle into a Barrett Mk-22 7.62mm bolt-action sniper rifle and shot off a round.

He was so tempted to pick up [Auto-aim] just to off her, but right now he can't spare a single Point. The priority was [Emergency Recall], and it cost way too much for him to fuck around. Besides, if the previous characters on her level storywise were any indication, she'd probably put up a fight. Attacks that bypass Aura only work if they hit, and these people bounce around like the Energizer Bunny. Letting them get in CQC range would make offing them easier, but then they'd start taking his HPs, too. That was fine at the start, but the number was getting awfully low.

Fuck Emerald and her thieving hands.

Heh. That's kinda funny since that was exactly what he did. Leaving the bag with all his consumables open next to the bed was a mistake, though. Whenever he gets the chance, it's [Dimensional Pockets] or bust. No more of this carrying stuff crap.

He didn't bother to go loot the headless corpse. A few bucks—oh, excuse him, a few 'Liens' weren't going to get him out of this hellhole.

After turning his Barrett Mk-22 7.62mm bolt-action sniper rifle into a PSRL-1 93mm rocket launcher, he took aim at a team of Huntsmen-in-Training and fired an SH-R1 round to wipe them off the face of the Ea- of Remnant. He checked his smartphone—wait, his scr…actually, fuck this world's terminology, it's a smartphone—and saw that the tally had gone up by three. There were four of them, so how can it give three Points?

Trash mob. Trash world. He could not get out of here soon enough.

Once again, the realization that this run had gone to shit made Jax heave a great sigh. Things had been going so well, too.

He had bagged—ahem, romanced Team RWBY by, like, the first month. It took all of his charm and skills! And when that didn't work, a fuck ton of points to up his CHARM and [Skills] did the job. There was nothing Yang wouldn't do for him. Weiss made out with Ruby because he asked. He convinced the sexy cat girl to try meowing, meowing!

Life…life was good.

And it all went wrong because, apparently, the butterfly effect was real. At some unknown point, even though he asked for the original RWBY world, events deviated from canon. Somehow!

…okay, so he had a sneaking suspicion it might have to do with him telling Neo some important details when they slept together to turn her to his side. Who could have guessed that the ice cream girl would betray him? Just because she was evil didn't mean she was a bad person!

It had seemed like Season Three's finale was averted. Everything was quiet up to and through the Vytal Tournament. He was about to win it all with his kickass Semblance that lets him ignore people's Aura (i.e. the thing that made them marginally a threat), then sweep Pyrrha into his arms with a totally cool line about how he was the only person strong enough for her before wowing her with his kissing prowess. The face on that Miles Luna Self-Insert when he steals his OTP girl would have been delicious.

Then, Cinder's (admittedly sexy) face replaced the fat professor's (very unsexy) face on the stadium's screens, and she kickstarted the Fall of Beacon like it's a scripted event, except for the giant robot that Neo sneakily bought with all his saved-up Points and was now piloting with not an ounce of control or skill.

The PSRL-1 93mm rocket launcher became a pair of…of whatever the SMGs are named, he didn't have the energy to remember, and he shot blindly into a melee between some girls and the White Fang, mowing down both sides.

Ding!

That sound, that sweet sound. He clamped one of the guns under his armpit and pulled out his phone. Staring in disbelief, he noted the number on the top left. The last group gave him 48 Points. That female team must have been side characters, because they helped him amass the Points he needed for [Emergency Recall].

This was it. This was goodbye Remnant!

"Holy shit! Yes! Get me the fuck out—"

His [Threat Detection Lv.1] went off like crazy.

Jax turned his head this way and that, trying to find where the danger was coming from. Not for the first time, he cursed Neo for his Point deficiency that kept him from making some upgrades. [Threat Detection Lv.2] would have taken care of locating the threat for him.

Jax scrunched his face in puzzlement as he failed to spot anyone nearby. Yet, the klaxon horn of [Threat Detection Lv.1] increased in volume. What was going on?

The thought struck him, then.

Combat was three-dimensional.

Jax whirled, pointed his SMGs towards the sky, and fired off all rounds at the same time that something cold, hard, and sharp rammed into his head.


Remaining HP: 1,460
Piercing damage, Sneak Attack! modifier, It Came From Above modifier
-1,460HP
Remaining HP: 0
You have died. Better luck next ti— oh, wait. There is no next time. Too bad, so sad


In the last few seconds before the System shut him down, his eyes rolled madly in their sockets to try and find what had hit him. It wasn't difficult. There was a body lying just over there, bleeding out as badly as he was. He recognized the messy (and unstylish) blond mop of a hairdo.

Fucking Jaune A—

And so, Jax Darkphenix, Gamer and Worldjumper, died with the name of his killer on his lips.

Like countless others who contracted with the Company, he failed his very first run.

-o-​

Jaune thought he knew what pain was from Initiation, from Combat Class, and from being hit by Grimm. He was wrong.

He also thought there was nothing worse than the feeling of pain. He was oh so wrong.

Ding!

The worst was when everything stopped hurting, even though you knew for a fact that the injuries were still there, and nothing and nobody had saved you. The worst was the coldness setting in as your life bled out.

He didn't need anyone to tell him what a bad idea it had been. The drop might not take his entire Aura reserve, but it would put him at such a disadvantage that Team RWBY's dog could have beaten him, let alone their boyfriend. Jax was the strongest of Beacon. Hands down, no argument. Pyrrha was losing to him in the tournament finals.

Ding!

But…but to witness him murder so many people, so many of what should have been Jax's allies and friends, Jaune had to act. He drew his sword. He leapt. Somehow, someway, he succeeded in slaying the monster. And now, he was dying.

Because Jax Darkphenix, that psycho, had a Semblance that treated Aura like air.

He can feel his reserves attempting to heal his injuries. It'd never work. The gaping holes to be mended, the sheer amount of blood that was outside of him and mixing with that of Jax in one crimson pool, the damage was so catastrophic that there was nowhere to begin.

This was it…this was goodbye.

Ding!

And the CCT service won't even give him the dignity of dying in peace. What, was it sending him spam mail? Advertising life insurance, perhaps?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Odd. Rather than his pocket, the sound was coming from near his head. His tired eyes blinked once, blinked twice, then opened to stare directly at the glowing screen of the scroll laying under his face. He couldn't tell what the model was, but it must belong to Jax, considering it looked super cool. Because Jax was super cool. You know, right up until he wasn't.

Blearily, he gazed at the words until they shifted into focus.


[Emergency Recall]
The cowardly way to escape all your mistakes. Sure, you can tell yourself that you're just going to nip out for some milk, to grind and upgrade and buy a couple of powers, before coming straight back here to your waifus, but we all know why you bought this. Still, in the words of a certain pair of twins in your current world: Whatever.
Effect:
Activate to exfiltrate back to designated [Home Base]
Basic Medical Package included
Activate:
[Yes]
[No]
Note: Choosing [Yes] will pause the current world until your return.


Yup. Spam mail, and the message pretty much amounted to life insurance, too. Aaaall the hate.

Yet…yet how tempting its promises were to someone like him.

Power. Something he dearly wanted way back when, and naively thought that his partner had granted unto him, so that he could fulfill his dream of becoming a hero. As it turned out, Aura could only get him so far, and no matter how hard he trained he could not catch up with his peers. Now, the crazy fire lady was displaying abilities so far above anything he had ever seen, and his friends were in danger, so of course he wished he had more power.

Pause the current world. What madness these words offered. There was no way to stop time. Not even Dust and Semblances can truly influence it, merely simulating a similar effect. Such an easy lie to see through. But as the world burned down around him. As he laid dying so far away from his goal. He wished with every fiber of his being that he could stop it all.

He tried to move his hand. Miracle of miracle, it shifted an inch. With the patience of a man who had nothing else to do, nothing to look forward to, nothing left, Jaune reached for the screen.

An eternity later, the hand hovered above the button. He wondered why he was even entertaining the message. His brain was shutting down, but his thought process went something like this:

Hey, it wasn't his scroll. If this thing gets a virus, then his last act on Remnant would be the equivalent of slaying his enemy and pissing on their grave, meaning he had died a true warrior's death.

He pressed [Yes].

At the very last moment, his true thoughts slipped out.

Please, be real. Please, I want to save everyone. Please…don't let this be…just a dream…

It should not have worked. You could say what you like about their blood mixing, and the names sharing some similar letters, but the crux of the matter was that it. Should. Not. Have. Worked.

But, as had been the case when Jaune—based on nothing but a strong wish, a devil-may-care outlook on his prospects, and quite a bit of idiocy—submitted a set of false transcripts to Beacon Academy, someone caught the attempt. They read the details from end to end, and were amused. They let it ride.

And so, Jaune Arc, fake Huntsman and a complete nobody, left Remnant as motes of light.

---

Author's Notes: Be careful of spam mail, Jaune. Even if it's not an all-out scam, there's always a catch.

A story in the vein of the CYOA, WC, world-jump fanfics, except instead of some psychopathic/sociopathic SI from Earth amassing great cosmic powers and being an absolute legend—which I cannot and never want to write—it's a fictional character from Remnant trying to grab at the scraps of power that the bona fide MCs would spare a single line of the chapter to mention.

FYI to all the SIs: If you want Neo on side, don't trust her right off the bat. Don't assume your future knowledge is going to get her in your corner. Ice cream psycho will backstab you on principle. It's part of her charm.

Three-letter MC first name, mythical animal in the last name (but with a Dark or Onyx in there so it's evil). Putting actual guns in RWBY with all the unnecessary details on caliber rounds to show Earth's 'superiority'…Bleeeech. Disgusting. Cringe. I needed a drink before I wrote that section.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

Jaune awoke, and beheld a bright light.

It surrounded his prone form, and was all that he could see. Beneath him was a soft and springy surface, but not quite a bed. He rather liked the odd texture.

There's no sound in this strange space, nor any scents. And as recent memories flowed into his mind, reminding him of the ruined body that lay beyond saving, he noted with relief that there was a lack of pain, too. The afterlife wasn't so bad, then. A bit boring, but that may just be the sort of opinion typical of someone who died following a series of unbelievable events.

One thing stood out of place in this picture. He seemed to be gripping an object in his left hand. Lightweight, compact, cool to the touch, with a slight curvature to smooth out the edges… hold one scroll and you've held them all, certain features have become a mainstay among the devices.

Now, why would a ghost have need of a scroll? Who's he going to call?

He'd prefer not to imagine that the CCT service has expanded beyond the land of the living, because then there would truly be no escape from its terrible grasp. Let's consider the other possibility then, that this scroll was the same one he swiped from Jax, which meant—

With a surge of anticipation, Jaune pushed off to sit upright, and the capsule encasing him smoothly opened to reveal that the bright light was not all there was to see. Gray walls, white ceiling, a tiled floor. A bed to fit one. Table and chairs. A kitchen on the far side, and an open door nearby through which he glimpsed a shower stall. This room bore the hallmarks of a studio apartment, spacious but sparsely furnished. Too dull to be heaven, too restful to be hell, never had a sight so mundane filled his heart with such joy.

He smacked his own face. There was pain.

Jaune lived.

A whoop, and he bounced to his feet, dancing a jig in celebration. He almost fell over midway when the futuristic capsule began to fade into nothingness until only the word 'MedPod 720i' stenciled on the side of the machine hung in midair, before it too blinked out a second later. Waving his hands around the spot where it had been confirmed that it did not turn invisible, but vanished.

"Whoa, this is straight out of sci-fi!"

Then, his jaw practically dropped to the floor when he raised his head. There, on the other side of where the capsule used to reside, a window allowed him to peer out at the world beyond. What floor was he even on? Way, way down there a city sat, so distant that he cannot pick out the details. Clouds were floating lower than his vantage point.

Nobody would call him a well-traveled person, what with boats and Bullheads being akin to prolonged torture sessions for him, but he did attend school and the teachers there have shown pictures of Remnant's four main cities. None of the Kingdoms have managed to build anything like this. The technology just wasn't there.

And above? Above floated another planet. Not a moon. A planet. He can make out the landmasses from here.

Jaune had the slightest of suspicions that he wasn't on Remnant anymore.

-o-​

As callous as it sounded, the novelty wore off. After staring at the sights for an indeterminable amount of time, he tore his gaze from the view to explore the room. Also, to find a shirt, because while the capsule had cleaned off the blood on his clothes, it did not repair them. His tattered rag of a top covered him with the effectiveness of strings. His pants fared better, and might have increased in value, considering the strange fashion surrounding ripped jeans.

Unfortunately, the apartment proved a stark contrast from the fantastical view outside. What he saw was what he got. Its barebone state extended to personal belongings, and even food, of which there existed none. By the looks of it, nobody had set foot in this place before him. As for leaving the room, the lack of a door put quite a damper on that idea.

Yeah, someone built a room with no exit, then dropped him in it. The scroll promised power, but seemed content to instead grant him a slow, half-naked death. He did discover a big metal disc in the corner that the sci-fi movies he watched would suggest might be a teleporter, but no amount of poking or prodding (or stomping or screaming activation catchphrases) have freed him from this place.

In the midst of his confusion, he turned to the scroll for aid. It brought him here, so what else can it do?

"I'm on an alien planet, and I still ended up with my face in a scroll. Maybe mom was right about my generation being addicted." Jaune said to himself as he sat on the bed, device in hand.

The message advertising an 'emergency recall' had closed itself. In its place was a basic black background, superimposed by a white ring on which app icons rested at equidistance. In the center of the circle were two words:

~The Company~​

"The company of…what? "Jaune scratched his head. "Did they make the apps? The scroll itself? That lifesaving capsule?" His gaze alighted on an icon of a shopping basket, and a spark of hope blossomed. The notification had mentioned the ability to buy powers. "A teleporting portable hospital sure sounds like a power, so maybe the answer is all the above."

He tapped on the icon and…and a marketplace of impossible, wondrous potential unfolded before his eyes. Waifus, Skills, Weapons, Armors, Vehicles, Homes, Pets, Medical—oh, my!

Power, and more, lay at his fingertips… obtainable with a currency called Points, of which he had a balance of zero as noted on the top left of the app screen. Likely due to the lack of funds, the shop had deactivated the corresponding purchase buttons for each item. Still, a man can browse.

A few of the listed categories, he didn't really get—the Waifu tab and the figurines on sale in its catalog, especially. By the actions of some mad corporate executive, these dolls carried the highest prices on average when he compared a sample of items from each category. It rekindled his worries that this was all make-believe until he found the capsule that saved him under the Medical section. The price differential between a toy and a groundbreaking piece of tech was mind-boggling, to say the least, but the presence of what he had seen with his very eyes to be an actual object served to convince him that the spam mail he opened had followed through on one of its claims. And, maybe, all the rest.

Jaune stopped there for a while, sitting stock still and nearly in tears with relief at the idea that the end of the world had been put on pause, that his friends and family were safely frozen in time at this moment. Frozen, and waiting. Once he regained his composure, he dove back into the shopping app with renewed eagerness.

Weapons, that's the ticket. He needed the means to beat back the untold number of Grimm, White Fang, and murderous robots, along with the dragon(!) and the fire lady.

…He also caught a glimpse of what had looked like a giant robot during his descent from the locker, but that had to be his imagination, right? Better safe than sorry, he'd add it to the list.


Maliwan Volcano
Universe: Borderlands
Pele demands a sacrifice!
A simple sniper rifle that sets your enemies on fire with exploding bullets.


Lightsaber (Purple)
Universe: Star Wars
The weapon of a Jedi, an elegant weapon of a more civilized age. Utilize its plasma blade to cut flesh and blast doors, alike. Also the weapon of a Sith. And of General Grievous.
Commonly found in blue, green, or red. This one's purple.


Way cool, but he needed a bigger oomph. Jaune adjusted the sorting function, typing in a random 38,542 as the lower price limit. The items shown now were a lot more ornate, many sporting strange energies and motifs.


Khartoth the Bloodhunger
Universe: Warhammer 40K
A Daemon Weapon of Khorne—the Blood God, the Lord of Skulls, the Lord of Blood, the Lord of Rage, the Lord of Battle, etc. Capable of cutting through not only matter, but also time. May or may not send wielder into a blood frenzy from which there is no return.


Tome of Meteor Shower
Universe: Magicka
Knowledge is power. Use this tome to learn the magick (that's magic with a 'k'!) Meteor Shower, and summon a barrage of meteorites to bombard your enemies.
Warning: Low chance of setting the planet on fire.


Drops of nervous sweat poured down his brows. These ones, and others like them, have a bit too much oomph. Then again, when it came to fighting the forces of darkness, he'd rather start with overkill and work his way down. Ruby, whose dream involved building a gun that can blast through ten Grimms and level the building behind them with one bullet should the need arise, would certainly agree.

Experimentally, he pressed the grayed-out purchase button.


Tome of Meteor Shower
Points Cost: 157,000
Points Balance: 0
Insufficient Points. Unable to purchase.


Sadness.

Ah well, the scroll already warned him of his empty budget. What he wanted to know about were the methods by which he could acquire these 'Points'. He did spy a 'Sell' tab, but his current possessions consisted of a pair of pants, boxers, and sneakers. Not exactly worthy items of trade barring some bonkers exchange rates.

Exiting the marketplace, he moved on to the other apps in search of answers.

The next icon displayed a rectangle with lines of scribbles. It opened up to a page bearing the heading 'Contract Terms'. Before he could panic over having to read, a notification materialized.

Error, Inactive Contract. The app shut down, and turned gray.

Well, crap.

On the one hand, no legalese. Yay! On the other hand, it appeared that certain functions of the scroll were tied to Jax and they ended with his…end. Depending on how the other apps turned out, he might be in a spot of trouble.

He tried another program, and arrived at a page reminiscent of a video game status screen.


Name: Jax Darkphenix
Level 45
HP 0/0
State: Dead


Oh, sure, remind him of his crime forevermore.

He didn't want to hurt Jax, but there are things you just don't do! Lines to never cross. Stabbing your allies in the back was right up there at the top. He had to stop him. A-and he got shot for it, didn't he? Fair's fair!

Jaune forced himself to continue on, swiping past that section to hide the damning words to reach a series of stats. Lacking a reference for where the numbers stood in relation to a typical Huntsman, he skimmed over them. The CHARM stat outpaced the others by a large margin, though. Fitting for the guy.

Past that was the [Skills] list…

Holy crap, you can just buy the ability to talk to women!?

…which at first sounded amazing for its diverse and useful effects. Yet, once he read through the later entries, his heart wasn't in it anymore. He left the status screen at speed, and put the scroll down on the bed. Then, he curled up into a little ball.

[Excuse my Mistralian], [Once is an Accident], [A Second Shot at Love], [Third Time's the CHARM], [Sharing is Caring], [All Your Waifus are Belong to Us Lv.1],and a whole lot more whose descriptions were…

When it stopped being about improving oneself, and became manipulating the minds of the people around them, that's when a person should know they'd gone too far. He'd always wondered why Team RWBY accepted the fivesome arrangement so smoothly. It must take a man possessing charisma and eloquence on a level he could merely dream of having to swing that, he concluded. As it turned out, sharing was caring in the world of Jax.

And he had an interest in Weiss, hadn't he? But he went to bed one night with the idea of asking her again at breakfast to go on a date, and then just…didn't. Not once from that day on, even as the emotions for her still beat within his heart. Was it because he realized—in a sudden bout of humility and self-awareness—that he had no chance compared to Jax, or did the other boy activate the damned [Skill] that stopped him from acting on any of his romantic feelings? In hindsight, the second option looked all too plausible. And that was at Level 1. Compound those abilities with the rest of the list, and he suspected Jax could have become Remnant's new god given enough time.

The scroll promised power, and the scroll delivered power. In all its forms.

Later, when he could peek at the scroll without feeling sick, Jaune took the device in hand again. A return to the shopping page confirmed that it sold every sort of [Skill] conceivable (and many many that weren't, at least to him). Romance and sex featured prominently, but so did combat. There was even a category full of benign-sounding ones, like [Househusband]— though the numerous proficiencies governed by that composite ability seemed suspiciously redundant for him.


Cleaning, cooking, sewing, and…yeeeeah, my family expected my future wife to be the breadwinner between us.


In the end, what it came down to was choice. Jax went down his path, but Jaune did not have to follow the trail he blazed. Nor did he have to avoid [Skills] altogether. From a certain point of view, they possessed greater potency than weapons. Every bit of strength counted, and as long as he stuck to the combat-related ones, there were little reasons to shy away from this particular catalog.

Calmer now, he continued exploring the scroll. The Communications app powered off in quick order, blaring the same "Error, Inactive Contract" notification. Ditto with Quests and Achievements, which he was pretty worried about. In games, those usually came with rewards upon completion. By the time he got to the last app, most functions had locked down to leave him with a store he cannot afford and a dead man's information.

He breathed deeply to brace himself, and touched the icon bearing a globe. The page opened, the title 'Jump Portal' emblazoned on its heading. A message popped up. He despaired.


Error—ERROR–Modif-0-Access—


Jaune's vision blurred, and he cradled his head as a bout of dizziness overwhelmed him. It felt a bit like being on a Bullhead, and right on cue his stomach performed a flip. Thankfully, he'd already emptied the contents on a Griffon earlier, and thus avoided the accompanying mess. Focus soon returned to the world.

The odd text had vanished, replaced by two options: Permanent Worlds and Instances. The first contained a blank page upon inspection, but the second? The second activated when he tapped on it.


Searching… searching… temporary connections established.


A series of boxes took up the screen. Their significance failed to register for him in the beginning. He caught an inkling of it, when he came across a familiar—yet unfamiliar—phrase.

'Universe: Warhammer 40K'. He carefully read through the rest of the box. It mentioned a location and an event that helped him understand nothing, but the information revealed when he touched the option to show more details? Danger rating. Loot rating. Inspiration smashed into his head with the force of a truck.

Out there lay other worlds, and in those worlds existed the items on sale in the marketplace. Their inclusion under an app named 'Jump Portal' suggested the possibility of him entering them. How? He had no clue. The itty bitty device managed to pluck him from Remnant and bring him here, so he would not doubt it can put him somewhere else again.

If he were to, say, travel to Warhammer 40K, could he perhaps acquire the item Khartoth the Bloodhunger straight from the source and not have to pay for it in Points? Even should he not succeed in such an endeavor, he might find any number of weapons or objects of value strewn about. What's to stop him from keeping what he can use, then selling what he cannot, thereby accumulating the Points needed to go on a shopping spree?

Giddy with the prospect of having found his path forward, Jaune browsed the available Instances. In his view, the ideal location was one that overflowed in treasures he can claim, with no accompanying risk. His perusal nixed the dream right quick. The two ratings tended to go hand-in-hand. Warhammer 40K rocked a maxed-out danger rating of 10/10; quite apt, going by the description of the Khartoth. Deeming himself unprepared to handle that level of peril, he crossed that universe off the list for this go-round and began sifting through the choices.

"This one seems doable," Jaune remarked as he checked the specifics on the fifth Instance.

Danger at 4/10 stars, a middling threat level. Universe, Location, Event, they held no meaning for him. Loot rating was…high for the risk involved. Very high. Wow, if he was going to choose a place to visit, this was the winner. A quick in and out and he'd have an armful of loot, easy.

He took a look at the last Instance for completion's sake, and dismissed it when the numbers differed unfavorably.

Selection made, he pushed the big, blue button labeled 'Jump'. The pop-up almost gave him a heart attack.


Recommended [Skills]:
[Blank]
You'll need it where you're going.


Ominous. Not least because the device can evidently perceive him in real time. That's not a general 'you'. That's a Jaune Arc 'you'.

"You can see me," he accused.

The scroll laid there, looking innocent.

Thoughts for later, he decided. He needed the scroll too much to abstain from its use. As for the [Skill], while he appreciated the warning, what can he do? To buy it, he required Points. To gain the Points, he had to enter the universe sans [Skill]. What a conundrum.

He stared at the screen, fretting in silence. 'Need', it stated. As if to press the point, intermittent golden light pulsed around the purchase button. Demanding. Insistent. It taunted his pauperism.

Hang on… the button had a color. Jaune tapped on it with a tremulous finger.


[Blank]
Points Cost: 400
Points Balance: 0
Insufficient Points. Buy on Credit (Credit Available: 1000 Points)?


Hey now, that option wasn't there before. Granted, it might be due to him trying to buy a 157,000 Points item. A price tag of 400 sounded like a steal in comparison.

Very much a steal, and Jaune bought the [Skill] without further ado. Sure, he'd owe, but the idea of taking on debt hardly fazed him. He owned a credit card, and used it on the regular. So long as the card gets paid off on time, the cutthroat interest rate won't come into play. In this case, one good run in the Instance can probably take him back into the black.


Ding!
[Skill] purchased.
[Blank]
You Thinkers get off my lawn! Render yourself unreadable to clairvoyance and related abilities, no matter the source.


And, in truth, he bought the [Skill] because it was power. His first power. He had no way to confirm its authenticity, but the idea that he'd just gained a literal out-of-this-world ability felt phenomenal.


Activating Portal


Swirls of energy manifested above the scroll, and shot off to hit the wall. There, it thickened to form a large circle shifting in a kaleidoscope of colors. Through it, Jaune heard what might be distant voices and the sound of waves. He tasted salt in the air.

It tasted… off. Different. Unlike home. Like another world.

A grin sprang to Jaune's lips. Tucking the scroll in a pocket, he unsheathed his sword and shield, then walked up to the portal. Whatever doubts he had, he crushed down and left behind.

Before him stood the road to everything he wanted, so what was there to fear?

This universe will be his starting line. From nothing, he shall walk the path of the straw millionaire. Loot. Barter. Gain. Then repeat, repeat, repeat until he has achieved the means to protect his friends and Beacon.

Starting Jump in 5…4…

He felt a tug coming from the portal. The pull boosted in strength with each passing second. Rather than resisting, he relaxed his stance. The energies grew to a crescendo.

…3…2…1

He didn't wait for it to take him. He leapt right in.

The new world awaited.

Universe: Worm (divergent). Location: Brockton Bay. Event: Leviathan.

---

Author's Notes: gg, new story next week?

10/10 danger rating is equal to the current attack on Beacon for sure, so 4/10 is probably, like, a pack of Beringels, right? Just need to be careful and everything should go without a hitch.
…Jaune has no Gamer's meta knowledge, no sense of the scale that other worlds are operating at. He thinks the Grimm is the scariest threat there can ever be. Heh. He'll learn. Or die.

A weapon, a shield, and topless. Jaune's starting out with the Deprived class. Would've taken the pants, too, but I don't think anyone's here to see Jaune get stripped.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

Rain.

That was Jaune's first impression of Brockton Bay, a torrential downpour that drenched him to the bone the very second the portal deposited him in a deserted alleyway. He had experienced storms before, both in Vale and in his hometown, but rarely did he ever get caught outside during one. Even then, not one like this. The sounds the raindrops make blended together in a dull roar that carried on without end. Water streamed past him towards the alley's mouth, where it joined a bigger river cascading down the street. The salty tang in the air has now become near overwhelming.

What a time to be shirtless.

Jaune stowed away the sword part of Crocea Mors, but kept the scabbard in shield form to hold above his head as a makeshift umbrella while he jogged out to the main street. It, too, was devoid of people, which didn't surprise him. He had the excuse of a portal mishap, but otherwise only an idiot would go out in this hurricane. Or was it a typhoon? They're both tropical, he knew that. Maybe one's for the mainland and one's for islands. Could it be a matter of wind speed?

…Dang it, this was going to haunt him until he got an answer.

Whatever. Finding shelter took precedence at the moment.

A storefront stood to his immediate left. The lights were off so it's probably closed. He tried knocking on the door anyway in the hope that a kind stranger might let him inside. No luck. He advanced to the next building. Then the next, and the next, and so on until the shattered window of an electronics store—plus the looted interior—clued him in that he won't find ready aid any time soon.

Taking a closer look at the street, he noted the cars sitting in the middle of the road, not pulled out of parking spaces by the water like he previously thought, but abandoned outright. He also spotted a number of personal items among the trash and debris floating in the inches-high river. Suitcases, bookbags, toys, and the like. All signs pointed to the aftermath of an evacuation order.

Just his luck to get stuck in a storm-hurricane-typhoon-thing powerful enough that people had to use the emergency shelters. He searched the sky for the signal flares that would mark out such places, but saw nothing. And he wouldn't, Jaune reminded himself, because this was a different universe. Standard practices of Vale need not apply here.

His gaze returned to the electronics store, drifting from there to further down where a convenience store sat. An unpleasant idea reared its head. Seeing as nobody was around, and he was in desperate need of clothing—his stomach rumbled to inform him that he hadn't eaten recently—and food, the case can be made for him to, not steal, but shop without oversight. He'd pay, of course.

Jaune paused that train of thought to check his pockets. Unless he lost it somewhere back in Beacon, his wallet should still be on his person. Aaand…Yes! Plan is a go! A few seconds later, he stood on the threshold of the convenience store, peering into its depths.

"Hello?" Jaune called into the room. When he did not receive an answer, he stepped fully inside. The lights were on, so whoever owned this store must have departed in a hurry. An inch of water covered the floor. A selection of memorabilia covered one of the back corners, among which he spied shirts and jackets. That'd be the next stop after he got some food in his belly. His feet made splashes as he passed the front counter and began browsing the aisles.

Any doubts he had that this was another universe faded once he saw the unfamiliar brands. From chocolate to water bottles to something as innocuous as paper towels, everything was sold under different names. He grabbed one of each aforementioned item, then approached the display case bearing an assortment of sandwiches and meals.

"Ooh, turkey! Don't mind if I do." Jaune snatched up the sandwich. Out of curiosity, he also added an 'italian' hoagie to his hoard before returning to the front of the store. It all went on the counter as he checked the prices.

Whyyyy was there a decimal on the price tag?

He was either looking at six and a bit for the turkey sandwich or six hundred twenty-seven written in a bizarre way. For the sake of his meager wealth, he chose the former, dropping two 10-Lien cards down on the counter for the lot. It sounded about right.

After wiping himself dry with the roll of paper towel, Jaune used the counter as a seat as he started on his lunch. The turkey tasted as turkey should, and took the edge off his hunger. The hoagie followed, eaten at a sedate pace so he could try and figure out what ingredient 'italian' was. As best as he could tell, it matched a regular hoagie in every aspect, down to the objectively subpar quality as was wont in this kind of place. The chocolate bar rounded out the meal, washed down with the contents of the water bottle. Feeling alive again, he disposed of the wrappers and moved on to the back corner of the store. There, he perused the wares on offer, with an eye for apparels in his size.

A city's souvenirs said a lot about its culture. Vale liked to print its most famous artworks onto t-shirts and drink coasters. Mistral went in for decorative hand fans and other traditional items, while jars of colored sands sparkling like gemstones were Vacuo's specialty. His one family trip to Atlas revealed the kingdom's penchant for patriotic messages (and patriotic puns) emblazoned on the usual fares of mugs, pens, clothes, and such.

Brockton Bay's souvenirs outed it as nerdtown, with comic book superheroes taking center stage. Dozens of them. Names like Dauntless, Vista, Clockblocker (his immature mind got the joke all too quickly), and Battery jumped out then fade from memory as soon as his eyes left their picture due to the sheer number of characters represented here. The superheroes leading in popularity seemed to be a bearded man in blue futuristic armor, a woman garbed in a tri-color bandana and the sort of combat fatigues that Ansel's militia would wear, and a pretty blonde girl sans mask in the most superheroine-esque costume of the bunch (it's the only one that has a proper cape). The three of them featured on a good half of the merchandise.

Jaune imagined how he'd look with their faces on his clothes, and cringed. He wouldn't do that for even his favorite characters, X-ray and Vav.

In the end, he settled for an 'I ❤ Brockton Bay' T-shirt (which in his opinion didn't roll off the tongue like 'I ❤ Vale' would) paired with a Panacea Poncho (white-and-red ambulance themed). Their purchase set him back another sixty Lien, an absolute ripoff of a price for the cheap-quality goods. Shaking his head in disgust, Jaune exited the store before he could be tempted to reconsider a spot of thievery.

He reared back when the ground in front of him exploded, struck by a man-sized projectile—no, wait. He was wrong. As asphalt and dirt pinged off him, Jaune watched the woman-sized woman crawl out of the crater that was fast filling up with water. She didn't even notice him standing behind her, looking into the distance and mumbling to herself.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I can totally take a hit. J-just get back in there. I'm okay."

Interspersed throughout her mantra was a second voice, female but synthesized, speaking from an armband she wore.

Chubster deceased, CD-5. Good Neighbor deceased, CD-5. Hallow deceased, CD-5.​

…deceased?

"Uh, miss—?" The question died on his lips, for she was no longer in front of him.

Now, a person impacting the ground from a great height was nothing new. It's called a 'landing strategy', and everybody should have one. As for launching up, he had seen people like Pyrrha and Weiss use that move as an opener. They always come back down.

Not this girl. She floated in the sky, three stories high with nary a foothold. Her cape billowed, blonde hair whipping in the powerful winds. Then, she shifted her body into a corkscrew motion and blasted off across the city. Within two heartbeats, Jaune lost sight of the girl. He continued to stare.

Conventional knowledge would say the girl possessed a flight-type Semblance, even if that was something thus far only theorized as possible. It made a whole lot more sense than the word bouncing around in his head, one spurred on by the memory of a blonde in an identical outfit printed on a t-shirt inside the store at his back.

An impossible power? Check.

A cape? Check.

In a vacuum, those two details would just make her a Ruby Rose kind of person. When coupled with the line of merchandise for a certain Glory Girl, the possibility existed that she's a—

"Superhero." He breathed out the word. "And if she's real, all of those comic book characters might also..."

A moment of stillness followed, during which time he wrapped his mind around this new piece of information. Worked through the various implications. Really internalize it.

Then he full-on sprinted in the same direction the girl flew off to.

Whatever the 'Event' this Instance has dropped him in, he'd bet it was happening over that way. Where the superhero was going. Where, with luck, he can find more superheroes.

If anyone would be able to help him, it'd be them. And since it sounded like they were fighting, maybe he could pay them forward by pitching in.

-o-​

What he would give for the ability to fly. City block after city block he ran, his journey seeming without end. Vision and hearing obscured, he relied on the mental map of his path to keep on the approximate heading. The water has risen to about a foot by this point to waylay him with submerged debris and unseeable divots in the road.

The first hint that he was finally near to the goal occurred in the form of a rainbow lightshow brightening the sky. Booms echoed off to his left, and he course-corrected. Two blocks later he started to pick up more than the storm's background noise; shouts, screams, the occasional burst of gunfire and strange zapping sounds. Further along, shapes developed within the thick curtain of rain. All of it converged into clarity—into a roaring cacophony—until, abruptly, he was in the midst of a battle.

As it turned out, superheroes came in far greater numbers than the souvenir corner had shown. Colors bright and dark, outfits flashy and stark, close to a hundred people were present at the small intersection he had stumbled upon, loosely split into two groups on either side of a huge figure to prevent its escape. A miniature sun that hurts to look at blocked one of the other routes; behind the orb stood a person in a black bodysuit adorned by red suns. A gray cloud hemmed in the last exit. A dozen fliers hovered in the air. Together, they've got their foe—a hulking creature with green scales, thin limbs, long claws, and a long tail that moved like a whip— boxed in.

The superheroes unleashed attack after attack upon their target, though none did so more ferociously than a flying man in a skintight blue-and-white outfit. He was the cause of the pretty lights that guided Jaune's way, blasting dozens of laser beams down on his foe. In retaliation, the creature lashed out with its tail.

Oddly, the appendage canceled the movement, coiling back. Jaune's eyes bulged in shock as a tendril of water in the shape of the tail continued the original motion, on course to hit the laser-flinging hero, who had to dodge. The faux-tail crashed against the fourth floor of a building and left a deep gouge in the concrete.

The beast has a range attack. That used water. And they were in the middle of a storm.

At the back of the crowd, Jaune lifted his shield and kept it at the ready, because holy hell nowhere was safe from this thing.

Then, stamping down on his rising trepidation, he took a step forward. Battle instincts spurred him on. Here was a monster, and he a Huntsman. Where else should he be but in the fray?

That idea ground to a halt as the laser barrage redoubled in intensity. Motivated as he was to pitch in, trying to reach his optimal fighting range would be tantamount to suicide by friendly fire. Unsure of what else to do, he cast an eye over the cohort he'd joined. Beyond those able to fling projectiles, there were people deploying defenses to block the monster's blows... and that looked to be about it for the active participants. The rest of them were in similar circumstances to him, lacking the means to fight from a distance and thus reduced to milling around. A frown stole over his face.

Shouldn't there be someone organizing them into a more effective formation?

If the fliers were to stay lower to the ground, they can angle their shots to hit the big upper body. That would give the melee combatants an opportunity to whale on the legs, and maybe neutralize the tail. As things stood, only a fraction of them were contributing to the offensive. A powerful fraction, when they take into account Mr. All-the-lasers over there, but there's clear room for improvement.

One fruitless search for a commander later, Jaune readjusted the plan and began to circle along the edge of the crowd, hoping to put himself in a visible spot from which he could communicate his observations to people in a better position to do something about it. It was not to be. Someone else made their move.

"Fire in the hole!" Yelled a woman at the front of the other group—Miss Militia, he recognized her from the red, white, and blue bandana—before she raised some sort of Hard-light grenade launcher that reminded Jaune of Velvet Scarlatina's weapon projections, and fired a succession of projectiles at the monster. One exploded into a mess of gold ribbons that adhered to its green scales and to the road. Another explosion turned a part of the thing's shoulder to crystal. The last expanded to a shimmering sphere, trapping the waist and a leg in its grip. The beast tore through the first like paper, barely slowed on the next, and struggled with the third long enough for a ragged cheer to break out among the superheroes. The budding hope died when it managed to pull free.

Quick as a flash, the tail plunged into the ranks of fighters on Jaune's side of the intersection to pluck three people off the ground, hurling them at the sphere where they hung suspended and unresponsive. Simultaneously, the monster slashed its hands in an 'X' at the second team. The sharp claws fell short of the heroes, but blades of water shot out in their place to bridge the distance. Shields formed of mysterious energy sprang up to protect the opposite group.

They failed to neutralize the attack in full. The beginning of a scream cut short as blood flew in the air. Jaune heard the synthetic female voice again, this time coming from multiple armbands but most audible in the one worn by the skinny, long-haired figure sporting a dark costume beside him.

Jotun deceased, CD-6. Dauntless deceased, CD-6. Alabaster deceased, CD-6. Miss Militia deceased, CD-6.​

A startled gasp escaped his throat. Bile threatened to follow. His gaze zeroed in on the three people trapped in the sphere and the bisected remains of Miss Militia.

This was wrong. All wrong.

Superheroes weren't supposed to die.

In a daze, he watched the battle with a sense of detachment. Two giant, armored women rushed out to pin down the monster. It darted away, ending next to a building which it ran up at speed despite bearing a massive bulk. The trailing tail hooked on an open window, allowing the beast to swing onto the roof. A copy of itself—not just the tail or claws, but the entirety of the body—that was composed of water carried on the previous course, shooting into the sky to impact a glowing barrier conjured by a floating younger teen. The energy construct tanked the hit but shattered afterward. The blond boy, huffing and puffing in clear exhaustion, slumped onto another flier, a girl about Jaune's age who shared a similar outfit.

Refusing to let up, the monster leapt from the roof like a spring. A hundred feet high put it in the midst of the fliers. Deadly as a snake, the tail whipped at an armored hero hovering on a board. He threw up his hands in a futile attempt to stop the blow. Everyone knew he wouldn't survive.

Just before it would hit, the tail zig-zagged behind him to strike from a blindspot at the true target. The laser-hero.

It had not forgotten the hoverboard-hero. The tail's watery afterimage tore him apart. Both fighters tumbled out of the air.

Kid Win deceased, CD-6. Legend deceased, CD-6.​

The monster landed on cat's feet, the water hardly disturbed despite its size. It was greeted by a silent battlefield.

Jaune, the lone outsider, looked from face to face. With slack jaws or wide eyes, hitched gasps or tears, horror etched the uncovered portion of every mask. Even those whose expressions were hidden within helmets betrayed their fear by the way their bodies shook.

Why? What could have stopped their assault even as the beast readied its next attack?

The hero that fell. They called him Legend.

A grand name. A great power. The dots connected.

Jaune had wanted to find the commander of the heroes. That was him, there. Lying face down in the foot-deep river. Dead.

Fuck.

"SHIELDS!"

Jaune's shout rang through the battlefield to correspond with a water-whip barreling at his side of the street, and the crowd awoke with a start. A wall of interlacing steel swords rose up, and the pair of giant warriors braced their shoulders on the impromptu barricade to keep it in place. A blue forcefield sputtered to life behind them. The water carved great rends in the steel wall, in the two women, and crashed against the second line of defense, making the forcefield flicker. It held.

Fenja down, CD-6. Menja deceased, CD-6.​

The monster, relentless, turned its attention to the next target. With a mere look, a geyser blew a large hole in the strange fog blocking an exit, which struggled to reform into a person. Another scythe-like water blade shot at the second group of heroes. Prepared by Jaune's warning, energy shields in various colors were at the ready and overlapping so as to form a solid front. They prevented the ranks from being shredded.

Their foe gave them no further thought, having moved on to the last target. It juked at the miniature sun, then immediately rammed its talons into the street to halt the maneuver. A water-copy surged forward, instead. Most of it collided with the orb to create a huge eruption of steam, but a portion traveled close to the ground and continued its uninterrupted journey, headed straight for the lithe figure behind the sun, the summoner of that ball of molten fire.

Before it ever reached her, Jaune was there.

For him, the moment the beast dispersed the living fog yet did not escape spoke volumes. Throughout the fight, it demonstrated a clear ability to run anytime it pleased. Opportunities to retreat were given up in lieu of meting out death and destruction. Altogether, it suggested a bleak reality.

The heroes had not trapped it here with them. They were trapped here with it.

By the time the monster lashed out at the other hero team, Jaune was already in motion, fully anticipating the fourth attempt. Skidding across the last yard, he positioned himself in front of the girl. The attack was coming in low, so he slammed Crocea Mors into the concrete road, propping himself to push against the shield in an unsettling mirror of the pair of warriors earlier. Oh please oh please let Great War blacksmithing and Aura be good enough to survive this.

The water-copy, weakened as it was by the mini star, still slammed the shield with the force of Yang's strongest punch. His very bones rattled under the blow, and Crocea Mors scraped a line in the concrete as he slid a full body's length to hit the Sun-summoner. Fortunately for them both, most of the momentum had bled off, so all Jaune felt was a light impact on his back followed by a soft "Oof!" from the superhero. Success!

The monster was staring at him.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck—

It turned away.

Jaune blinked in confusion at this unexpected mercy. Before he can ponder overmuch of it, the beast conjured a wave with the water gathered at its feet and blasted it at the crowd formerly headed by Miss Militia, then dropped onto all fours to bullrush the team Jaune was a part of.

Ah. It had better targets.

Was it shameful, that his heart soared with relief at the thought of that thing directing its ire elsewhere?

Maybe so, but it was also understandable and he'd bet everyone here agreed with the sentiment. This monster…despite the drastic difference in size, this monster set off the same alarm bells in his head as the Grimm dragon. His instincts screamed at him that he had not a hope of a prayer if he faced such a creature head-on.

In some ways, this smaller foe inspired even greater terror than the dragon, for its overwhelming lethality possessed a sense of focus on the immediate area. Any who stood on this field, lived at the whim of the beast.

In the time it took for him to muster his will and take the first step back into the battle, the wave had scattered the heroes on one side of the street in the manner of bowling pins. Their defensive line collapsed in an instant. And on the other side, where the monster roamed, Death arrived, announced by the armband of the girl behind him.

Escutcheon deceased, CD-6. Herald deceased, CD-6. Velocity deceased, CD-6. Crusader deceased, CD-6. Stormtiger deceased, CD-6. Othala deceased, CD-6. Aegis deceased, CD-6.​

And then, the battle stalled out.

The rain fell. The injured cried in pain. A massive column of iron raised by someone's power fell over.

But the monster remained motionless.

A beat, and pandemonium broke out. Everybody started shouting. Some were calling for help, some were yelling for people to tie down the monster—Jaune finally learned its name due to how often they repeated it here; Leviathan, the same as the 'Event' listed in the scroll.

Still others simply began firing at the beast. For whatever reason, their attacks failed to even scratch it. A bullet struck inches above a superhero covered in what appeared to be clocks, who was standing way too near to Leviathan. Jaune peered closer, cursed, and started running at the drowning figure trapped in the shimmering curtain of water that was somehow just hanging in midair.

Halfway there, the clock-hero flickered and in the next moment was replaced by the body of a fallen combatant bearing a trumpet icon on his chest. Jaune spotted the former a distance away, getting checked over then evacuated.

"Listen!"

A strong voice that brook no argument silenced the crowd.

All eyes turned to the speaker, a bearded man in blue futuristic armor—Armsmaster, as named on the souvenirs—standing in front of a trio of superheroes; a man in a wizard costume, one in a green cloak with a glowing-green mask, and the last in a silver-and-gold knight's armor wielding…wielding…

Did Ruby design that? A massive sword/cannon hybrid sure seemed like something she would make. Jaune made sure to commit the knight-hero's equipment to memory. When he gets back to Remnant, and after he saved everybody, he was going to commission that weapon and armor set. The motif, the color scheme, they fitted him to a tee. The cannonblade looked like it can annihilate any Grimm.

His gaze flicked to the frozen form of Leviathan.

If he gets back to Remnant.

---

Author's Notes: Welcome to Worm, where bad things happen quickly, suddenly, and all over the place.
And then it got even worse, by upping the raid boss's ability by half a percent.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

After their arrival, the newcomers quickly took charge. As the green man—Eidolon, according to the awed whispers among the crowd—flew off to deal with the incoming tidal waves(! ! !), Armsmaster handed down orders to the assembled superheroes.

It was a hell of a thing for Jaune to learn from the man's speech that they never expected any of the heroes who joined this battle, alive or fallen, to stand a chance of defeating the monster. The best they could have hoped for going in was to whittle it down until it retreated, a plan shot to pieces by this point. Even its current frozen state had a limit. The clock-hero, Clockblocker, can stop things in time for a random duration, but the effect never lasts long. The object would also be immune to all damage in this condition, which explains to Jaune why they weren't unloading their combined arsenal in the monster's face at the moment.

What remained now was a do-or-die delaying action as they awaited someone going by the name of Scion to arrive and beat back the beast. To that end, Armsmaster was organizing the combatants in a loose formation spread out over a few blocks to prepare for Leviathan's eventual awakening.

The thought that Leviathan could start moving in the literal next few seconds lit quite a fire under people's rears, and they were running pell-mell to obey their given orders. The heroes most durable formed a line, waiting; their task was to be first up to bat. People who could set traps were doing so at record speed to lay a veritable minefield along one side of it; that way led to the nearest civilian center, and nobody wanted the monster heading there. Others helped to evacuate the wounded or bring in reinforcements. Those capable of bringing great firepower to bear were told to space themselves throughout the area and look for opportunities whenever Leviathan became distracted. The rest were sent to man the perimeters in the expectation of waylaying the enemy should it break containment. As the clock ticked by, a sort of harmony asserted itself, the hectic scramble developing a rhythm, moving to one man's vision.

A single discordant element existed within that space, born from a lack of orders to follow and a desire to help. Which can be either the best, or worse, combination.

Jaune's banking on good outcomes. His idea wasn't that out there. In fact, it made perfect sense. To him.

"Yup, just here." Standing behind the scaly beast, he pointed with a hand as he spoke to the girl capable of summoning miniature suns. "Can you make the ball big enough to engulf it?"

"I c-can, but…" The superhero glanced sidelong at Leviathan, hands wringing. "It's not alive, is it? Like, this isn't a person that I am going to k– attack?"

It wasn't hard to catch the slip, and to guess what the girl was hung up on. She abhorred the prospect of killing. Whether she was brave or foolish to still participate today despite that, Jaune couldn't rightly say, but his respect for her rose a few notches because of it. Heroes and idiots have always found a home in Beacon.

"I doubt it," Jaune denied. "That thing's more akin to some ancient Grimm than a human."

"Greem?" She asked, tilting her head.

That one mangled word said it all. They don't have Grimm here. Wow.

No engulfing darkness, with civilization driven to the brink of extinction? No ravening horde descending on a town due to one person feeling too sad that day? Hot damn.

Then again, there's an eminently lethal, city-destroying monster in their place. It's not all sunshine and rainbows in this universe. But, still. He hadn't even considered there could exist a place where he might have to explain what a Grimm was.

Faced with someone who had never known of life's enemy and in all likelihood wouldn't believe him on it, Jaune waffled a bit for an excuse.

"Uhhh, it's a fictional creature." Inspiration struck. "From a comic book. A very niche one you probably wouldn't have read. I'm a nerd like that. Anywho, the details aren't important. What I was getting at is that Leviathan is probably, you know, that sort of thing. One of those thousands-of-years-old, monster-from-the-deep types like you see in the movies. It's not human, and never was."

He sure hoped they have creature-feature cinema here, or he would have just outed himself as coming from somewhere else. Or left the impression that he's a loon.

"I guess that makes sense…" So she said, but the hero remained yet uncertain. She stared up at Leviathan without speaking, shifting from foot to foot.

"It's okay if you don't want—"

Jaune bit off the rest of the sentence as the girl took in a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell once, twice, thrice before she seemed to muster her courage, striding in front of him. Holding her hands a short distance apart, she peered down at something in them.

Jaune peeked over her shoulders to see her power at work, and regretted it pretty much instantly. A flicker of light, accompanied by a roaring sound, flashed between her hands for a fraction of a second, bright to the point that it left spots dancing in his vision. He squinted his eyes and turned from another flare, this one lasting a touch longer. The temperature made a sudden jump, shooting past uncomfortable to become so hot that the rain around the summoner transformed to steam. Jaune's Aura softly glowed as it registered an attack upon his body. There had to be another aspect to her power, because the girl was unphased by the heat.

"You might want to step back. A lot." She said, while standing on dry land in the middle of a flooded street during a hurricane. Heeding the suggestion, Jaune skipped back a few yards. Then, a few more when that proved insufficient. Around him, others followed suit.

Above the girl's hands now floated an orb of fire, baseball-sized. A couple of flickers later and it compared to a basketball. The orb began a slow flight towards Leviathan, growing over time. Meanwhile, the hero backed away, keeping her gaze on the ball as she retreated to where Jaune was waiting.

Halfway there, an armored hand crashed down on her shoulder, squeezing so hard that she let out a cry of pain.

"Shut it off!" Armsmaster snarled. When she instead stammered in confusion, he slammed his halberd into the road to emphasize the command. "NOW!"

"B-but—" She cringed as more shouting drowned out her protest. Jaune rushed over, and tried to segue between the two of them. Armsmaster's attention snapped to him.

"You are not in the database of participants," he declared with absolute certainty, then proceeded to observe Jaune from head to toe before focusing on his face. "Rags and souvenirs. No mask. Are you a new parahuman?" His lips curled in scorn. "Or are you a civilian who snuck in to meet heroes?"

A rumbling passed through the crowd of onlookers, fueled by open-mouthed astonishment. With great care, Jaune smiled to hide his ignorance, hoping that nobody would press for an answer. He had only an inkling of what a parahuman was from the context, enough to know he wasn't one, but professing to the contrary appeared the worse choice judging by the hostile atmosphere.

Deflecting, he said, "I'm the person who came up with this plan. I asked her to help me."

The good news? His admission succeeded in warding off further questions on his background. Bad news, it otherwise didn't go over that well, triggering the man's ire.

"There is ALREADY a plan, one which you two are impeding," Arsmaster growled. "Desist. At. Once."

Jaune, perhaps unwisely, declined to roll over on the man's say-so. "Look, can we at least give it a shot? You want to deal damage, she summons a frigging sun! There's a mutual interest here. When Leviathan unfreezes, it'll get a few thousand degrees to the face and—boom!—Patch Fried Lizard." Instincts drove him to search for a blonde mane of hair and a gauntleted fist after making that comment on Patch island, before he remembered the violent woman was a universe away from here. One silver lining to getting punted out of Remnant, this Ansel boy can throw shade on the other regions of Vale with impunity.

"Her power is untested." Armsmaster almost spat the word, it seeming to offend him on a base level. "Nothing has indicated it to match the sun in thermal output. Our strongest Blasters, good people whose powers have been rigorously researched, cannot land a decisive strike on Leviathan, and you think you can? Are you so arrogant to believe that your ability can surpass that of Legend!?"

Oh, that's just dirty pool.

Jaune spotted the very moment that the tide turned against him and the girl. As the name 'Legend' resounded through the staging ground, the stances of those in the vicinity shifted to face the two of them. Arms proceeded to cross and lips set in frowns or sneers, many scoffing as they dismissed the whelps who dared to besmirch the beloved hero's memory.

"You children think you have all the answers, yet you did not even consider how your doomed attempt would affect the rest of us." The armored hero pointed at the ball of fire. "That thing will blind anybody trying to keep an eye on the beast. What will you do when Leviathan escapes our net and annihilates everyone here, because we can't see it coming? It'd all be on you two fools if we fail!"

Jaune argued, "Or, it could work and we end the match in one big opener. Doesn't this monster warrant taking that kind of risk? Besides, there's ways to mitigate the visual effect. Aren't our eyes open right now? We can still see." His rebuttal garnered a few nods, a couple expressions of intrigue. Not nearly enough.

Just then, a new figure interrupted the confrontation—it was the superhero whose equipment Jaune coveted—and he moved to stand next to the hero in blue. A glance from one party to the other, to the miniature sun and back again, gave the impression that he was granting the possibility careful thought.

Hope reared its head, growing alongside the silence. In bated breath Jaune waited, as did everybody else, for the impromptu tiebreaker to render his judgment. Maybe, just maybe, he would agree to let it ride.

Reaching a conclusion, the knight-hero spoke. He projected his voice loud and clear for all present to hear.

"Armsmaster is an experienced hero who has taken part, and proven himself, in multiple Endbringer fights. I trust him implicitly."

…bastard.

"At the current juncture, he is in command of this operation, his authority superseded only by the Tri- the surviving members of the Triumvirate. You are expected to defer to his expertise in all circumstances. Disobeying an order from him cast our efforts and sacrifices thus far in jeopardy."

Reputation. Trust. The person that took umbrage with him was one who has established his bona fides, a core member of this alliance. It therefore mattered not one whit the merits of Jaune's idea or how well he presented his case. Those were not even taken into consideration. The heroes occupying the top ranks will without question stand by their fellow, lending him their support out of camaraderie and presenting a united front through thick and thin against malcontents like the blond nobody that was Jaune.

It should have been a sight to inspire. Standing on the outside, he would call it an obstinate blindness, plain and simple.

Pure smugness oozed off the man in blue across from him. He stepped closer to loom over Jaune and the sun-hero, the latter of whom received a hard stare.

To her, Armsmaster remarked, "And when such mutiny comes from a villain, it certainly calls into question your level of dedication in this battle."

Vil…lain?

The sun winked out of existence, its absence casting them into a darker, near-night visibility. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jaune watched the girl shrink in on herself, and he seethed in fury at the triumphant smirk that flitted past Armsmaster's face, too quick for anyone but him to catch.

There's a desire to ask his ally about what was said, the curiosity couldn't be helped, but he clamped down on that impulse in favor of shooting back at the older man.

"Hey! Don't just accuse—" He got no further. Deeming him no longer a concern, Armsmaster marched past Jaune, bashing an armored shoulder against his fabric-covered own to make him stumble.

"Follow your orders!" He barked with an air of finality. It was a signal for the assembled combatants to return to their tasks, running every which way in a flurry of activities. Looking around, there were no allies to be had among them. Some shook their heads in pity. More would rather throw a last nasty glare at them before leaving for their assigned positions. Armsmaster, in what to Jaune's view was a direct reversal of his former stance, got to work strapping a small pile of bombs to Leviathan, explosives that failed when Ms. Militia used them and bearing a fraction of the destructive potential of a mini sun. Not a single person gainsay him.

Jaune pulled the hood of the poncho low to hide his downcast eyes.

What kind of superhero treats other people like that? People on the same side, no less. The browbeating, the power play, Armsmaster was only interested in winning the confrontation, his mind unwavering throughout. It's doubtful if he had spared any true regard to the gambit before dismissing it out of hand.

So, what now?

There's got to be a way to beat this thing. He just didn't know how. His best plan was shot, and he knew too little about the abilities of the other superheroes, rendering it impossible to formulate a strategy. They wouldn't give him the time of day after that disagreement, in any case.

As for following the proposal Armsmaster put forward…nobody said where he should go. People were taking their cue from the chirpings of the armbands, something he personally lacked due to his spontaneous involvement. He couldn't get any orders.

He could guess, though. With his Aura and Crocea Mors, he wasn't about to do much to Leviathan. He's weak, meaning it'd be the outskirts for him; A simple lookout duty to warn others if Leviathan escapes down his route.

Jaune scoffed.

Escape. What a joke. That thing goes where it pleases.

His approach had run counter to that of the other man. Of course it did. Jaune pushed for a greater offensive that bordered on an all-or-nothing play because he had visualized the end result of the holding action advocated by Armsmaster. The number of casualties paving that path boggled the mind. Splitting up to prevent heroes dying in droves made sense, but to spread out to the extent of stationing each combatant by themselves, then leaving them to their own devices? A lone fighter would draw all of Leviathan's ire, guaranteeing their death in a matter of seconds.

It's a poor tactic, all told, born of desperation. He'd observed the heroes (and villains), and many were geared for one thing or another. Offense. Defense. Movement. Esoteric effects. Few can boast of having it all. Apart, Leviathan would overwhelm each person on every front.

Put some of them together, however…

Organize the combatants as teams in the style of Beacon, balance the mix, and see what a difference it could make. One to attack, one to defend, another to get them out of trouble, and so on. Give them a chance to deal damage and survive. Or the hope of it, at least.

Instead, their lot was to be offered up one by one as sacrifices to sate the monster's hunger. It's enough to make a person despair. Truly it did.

So, again, what now?

A hand tapped a soft beat on his arm. Turning towards the culprit, he came face-to-visor with the summoner, who answered the questioning tilt of his head by holding up her wrist, on which an armband sat.

To his amazement, the thin fabric worked somewhat like a scroll. Bright lines drew a minimalist rendition of a map, with colored dots and arrows to denote objectives. One arrow led straight at Leviathan. Another was blinking, and led southwest of here according to the compass. Was that where she's redeploying?

She took a step that way, waving for him to come along.

…He could have hugged this person right about then. Falling in line with her, they started to wade through the water.

"Thanks, I was a little lost on what to do," he said, then glanced over his shoulder. "And hey, I'm sorry for dragging you into that mess back there. If I knew the guy was going to blow up on us, I would have…well, I probably would have still tried it, but I'll knock him out beforehand."

The summoner's hands flew up to her cloth mask, stifling a laugh. And while it faded all too soon due to the pall cast by Leviathan, Jaune was glad to see the tension slowly ease off of her. After regaining her composure, she shrugged, murmuring, "I thought it was a good plan. It's weird that he shut us down so hard, I wonder why?"

He wanted an answer to the same, too. Something beside weak excuses boiling down to 'my eyes are sensitive' and 'we know better, you shut up'.

"And, and!" His companion gave a quick bow. "Thanks so much for taking the hit for me earlier. I was a sitting duck and if not for you, it could have been really bad."

His heart lifted at the comment. That's one thing he did right.

"You're welcome. I can't bring anything special to the table, but I hope my shield arm can at least be of some use."

"A-about that, I was actually thinking we could work together?" She asked. A note of eagerness rang clear in her tone. "My outfit doesn't make for the best protection, as you can see." Yep. He can. It featured thin armor plating in places, but hugged her figure on the whole, and the red suns were more decorative than practical. It reminded him of Huntsman fashion. "But with me on DPS and you playing tank, we might do better than if we're alone. What do you say?"

What does he say? She had just put into words—albeit more gamified—the very concepts bouncing around in his head!

He can't save the day. Jaune no longer harbored any delusion of accomplishing such a miraculous feat. Leviathan was simply too strong. But he can offer one person his shield, for what it's worth, as they try to survive in this battle until the hero Scion arrives. And with her overwhelming firepower, they stood a chance of making a difference, however small.

"Done!" He put out a hand. After a second, his ally reached out to clasp it in hers. They shook on it, and Jaune continued the conversation as they turned a corner. "Since we're teaming up, I suppose we're overdue for an introduction. I'm Jaune Arc." Wait, he should have given out a hero name! Inwardly lamenting the lost opportunity, he said, "What do they call you? In costume, I mean."

Please say 'The Sunmoner'. The pun would cheer him up to no end.

"I go by Sundancer."

"Oh? That's a pretty name." It rolled off the tongue even better than The Sunmoner.

Sundancer ducked her head at the comment and grew quiet. The reaction worried him at first, but he soon worked out the reason for it.

Wooow, did he purchase a conversation [Skill] by accident, or something? Because he delivered that line so smooooth. Now, if only he can figure out how to replicate it on a consistent basis, he'd be golden.

In the meantime, the silence between them dragged on. They've relocated a block west and south of Leviathan, with the map telling them to walk south for three more. Occasionally, other heroes (and villains, which would never not surprise him) tasked with the same appeared in view. Jaune and Sundancer walked past one such, a person he remembered from the battle at the intersection.

The skinny, androgynous figure in black was scoping out the surroundings. They froze when the pair neared, watching the newcomers while motionless. Hiding how unsettled their stillness made him, Jaune nodded to the figure. They did not respond, insectile mask simply moving to follow the progress of his group.

Once he left their vicinity, Jaune shivered from the sensation of wrongness that had crept up his spine. Sundancer herself seemed to breathe easier for having put them behind her.

They then both screamed their heads off as a massive cloud teeming with bees, flies, and beetles burst out of an alleyway just ahead. Jaune recovered first, and jumped forward with his shield raised to cover Sundancer. She, meanwhile, had rushed to his back in order to hide. Peeking over his shoulder, she gave a soft 'Ah!' of recognition.

"T-those must be Skitter's. She's the person we just saw. They won't hurt us…I think."

"Are you sure? The buzzing sounds awfully aggressive to me!"

Her claim gained credence, though, when the bugs refrained from doing much more than that, and Jaune heaved a sigh of relief. The prospect of a million bugs crawling over and into his clothes had filled him with revulsion. As it was, the two of them maintained a wide berth as they skirted around the swarm. A glance at the bug controller revealed three additional clouds like it were floating towards the person, gathering in passable silhouettes of people with the leftovers clinging to her body. Jaunce can already tell that it will be this and not Leviathan that's going to feature in his nightmares for days to come.

"Scary as hell, that lady."

"You can say that again." muttered Sundancer. She fidgeted with her hands before speaking up. "Hey, so, you seem really used to jumping in the line of fire…I'm guessing you're a hero? Are you with New Wave, by any chance?"

"New who?"

"Oh, that's a no, then? I just assumed you might have been since John Arc sounded like, you know, your real name." She resumed her nervous fidgeting.

Jaune nodded. "It is. Although, it's Jaune and not John. J-A-U-N-E."

"Like, french for yellow?"

"Uhhh, sure! Let's go with that." Leaving aside whatever the heck 'french' meant, it was true that his name referred to the color yellow.

"Jo… Ja… Jaune?" Sundancer practiced, shaping her lips around the unfamiliar word. She pumped a fist in victory when Jaune confirmed she said it right. "I can't believe you're using your actual name. And aren't wearing a mask."

Partly in jest, Jaune replied, "You really think I'm that ugly, Sunny Days?"

Sundancer furiously shook her head, flustered. "That's not what I said! You look good- I mean, you look fine! F-fine as in okay, I'm not trying to say fine as in fine, I wasn't staring, I swear!" A short pause ensued, where neither of them said a word. Then, her face fell into her hands, and she groaned. "Ignore me? Please? It's just you don't hide your identity, and most people in this scene… hide their identity." She finished lamely.

Whookay, a lot to unpack there, not least that he should work on his jokes if it sets people off like this. Also, he could be wrong, but her ramblings seemed to imply a positive opinion on his appearance, stroking his ego in a way he didn't know he enjoyed. It merited further investigation. He'll bring it up when she's less skittish. Grin, grin.

Man, this was fun. Why had he never tried to talk to girls back in Beacon?

Ah, right, because Jax Darkphenix in all probability blasted his head with mind control to prevent a single hint of romantic interactions, and this might well just be him acting without that filter. Jaune experienced a sudden, unfathomable urge to kick something.

"It never came up as a necessity, that's all," he said, mood dampened at the bad memory. A glint in the water ahead caught his attention. He kept a close watch on it as he talked. "And I can't say I'm a hero, yet."

"Then, are you a—"

"Hold that thought? I need to check on this thing real quick. Keep going and I'll catch up."

Splitting off, he raced over to the half-submerged object; it's a hilt, red and crystalline. Grabbing the handle, he pulled the weapon out of the road where it had been impaled to expose a long dagger. The razor thin blade was composed of the same material as the hilt and the knife as a whole possessed a delicate yet simple form, lacking details. An experimental swing easily sliced through the metal of a car door. He flicked a finger against the blade and it sang a most beautiful, melodious note.

Lien signs appeared in his eyes.

After a quick scan of his surroundings to search for an owner and seeing none, he fished out Jax's scroll—while making a mental note to separate it and his scroll in different pockets from now on—to open the Marketplace app.

Okay, time to test out how the selling function worked. Though he wasn't confident in what information he should put down for the dagger, he can probably muddle along in listing the thing. What he's most concerned about was the delivery process. [Blank], presumably, took effect upon purchase, but this was a physical object. He might be in big trouble if The Company required him to handle packaging and shipping the item to another universe.

Navigating to the selling page, he encountered a list of his sellable goods, numbering four entries at the moment; Crocea Mors, the t-shirt, the poncho, and the dagger, recognized by the app through some creepy eldritch power as being in his possession, and furthermore owned by him as noted on one side of the entries. On the bright side, that'd save him the effort of typing out a description.

Crocea Mors was out, because he wasn't going to pawn his family heirloom. The two mundane items carried a value of zero, their cheap make deemed worthless to the universes at large. The new weapon, on the other hand? One hundred points. Pretty dang low in his opinion considering the otherworldly gem-like material, but still able to pay off a solid quarter of his debt. Giddy, Jaune tapped on its icon.


Bloodiamond Dagger
Universe: Worm
Hard as diamond, but not actually made of diamond. Crimson as blood, and certainly made of blood. Crafted through the blood-based power expression of 'BloodEdge, the Bloodied Hero' (PRT-Registered Name, full phrase with comma and caps), whose bloody blades have taken more of her own blood than anyone else's blood. Blood.
Sharp, and appeals to a particular demographic. That's about it.


Yeeeah, no way he's keeping that around. Sell, sell, sell.


Unsellable within Instance.
Note: Marketplace Selling is allowed in designated [Home Base], or with relevant [Skills].


The urge to kick something made its reappearance. A second popup offered the answer to his woes.


Recommended [Skill]:
[Mobile Merchant]
Make quick bucks from the comfort of your couch, in the midst of dramatic battles, or sitting on the toilet. Anywhere, anytime, it's a world full of capitalistic possibilities at your fingertips.


Checking the cost, Jaune took one look at the low, low price tag of 5999 Points and promptly shut off the scroll, muttering curses under his breath. Capitalistic, indeed, to paywall critical functions! He was starting to suspect that the Company was out to fleece his sorry self. While there may be a day he'd have to pick up that [Skill] for the sake of accessibility, it would not be today, given he's flat broke and owing.

Frown stuck on his face, he stowed the dagger in his belt and regrouped with Sundancer at the coordinates marked by the armband, on the edge of Sector CC-7 and CC-8 according to the map. Besides them and Skitter, there were a few people scattered about, including the younger sibling of the blond flying duo from previous. He vaguely noted a new reticence to Sundancer but it went unaddressed in lieu of a greater oddity that occupied his focus.

Their spot in CC-7 translated to four blocks south and one over from Leviathan. Why have the heroes in charge placed Sundancer this far out? She's among those with higher destructive potential against the creature. Lookout duty seemed a poor use of her strengths.

Soon, however, her persistent scrutiny drew his attention, and he observed how her head alternated between tilting up to look at his hair, then lowering to his hip where Crocea Mors hung. Finally, he couldn't take the silence anymore, and asked her about it. In a voice laced with suspicion, she responded.

"Weird question, but…you're not with E88 are you? Because we can't be friends if you're a Nazi."

He blinked twice, not understanding. His lack of an answer must have worried her because Sundancer took a half-step away. She shuffled from foot to foot, torn on what to do.

"No," he stated. Going by context, he guessed that was the correct thing to say.

Sundancer exhaled a breath, one hand going to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness. I'm so sorry for asking something rude like that. It's just this town, you know? Not a hero, blond hair and deep blue eyes, a sword, the whole shining knight thing. It screams Nazi cape, and I was worried..."

"But, I'm not wearing a cape?"

A simple statement, yet it caused Sundancer to freeze in her tracks. Incoherent choking noises came from under her mask, nothing he could decipher.

With effort, she rasped, "No, I was talking about a cape cape."

Jaune twisted to look behind himself. Undoubtedly, he wore no cape. If she was referring to his rainwear, then a mere poncho shouldn't make the cut to capehood, he felt. Turning back to his companion, he was greeted with her slackened stance, a full-body tilt to convey her incredulousness.

"Do you know what a cape is?"

Damn. Her tone boded nothing good. It suggested that he was missing some common knowledge. He'd out himself unless he played this right.

"Course I do. Do you know what a cape is?" Deja vu. He tried this on Pyrrha way back when, if he recalled. He…he also remembered it not working too well at the time.

"Are you being serious? You are! Then you're really a civilian—but, no, you can block one of Leviathan's attacks! A new trigger?" She saw something in his expression, a cause for great concern. It convinced him that there's a good case to be made for donning one of those masks, after all. His poker face sucked. Sundancer deadpanned, "You have no idea what a trigger is, do you?"

Jaune fabricated a backstory on the spot. "I live out in the sticks. We don't get the news very often. Or ever."

Just a simple farmboy, nothing to see here.

"Uh-huh." She sounded unconvinced. Jaune avoided her gaze, glancing off to the side and hoping to hell that she knew as little about rural life as he did, because otherwise it'd take about thirty seconds to expose his lies.

As she was gearing up to poke holes in his flimsy excuse, however, a cold front hit them from the direction of the sea. It pierced through their wet clothes to leave them shivering.

The cause of the freak wind was flying over the coast, a green figure shooting out blue beams that froze the waves into big, irregular walls. They, in turn, blocked later waves from ever hitting land. And, more importantly, from washing the combatants away. Nice.

They could do without the hypothermia, though.

Nudging Sundancer, he asked, "Can you give us a bit of warmth?"

She answered by putting her hands together, and after Jaune removed himself, Sundancer brought forth a new ball of fire. The moment the tiny orb emerged, the chill immediately receded. Once it ballooned to a stable size, she pushed it out half a block to let Jaune rejoin her at the center of the street. Warm and toasty, Jaune stood with the sun at his back, using its light to check out the city skyline in full.

"Your power's got a lot of uses, huh? I wonder if it can provide energy to run the entire city. There could be good money in that."

"Um, yeah. Maybe."

"What's with the dispirited tone, Sunny Days? You could become a millionaire." A memory niggled at his mind, and hand met forehead. "…although I suppose that's kinda hard to arrange if they arrest you on sight. Dang."

The sun shook, nearly dissipating. "I-it's not a problem with you, is it? That I'm a villain?"

Had that incident with Armsmaster hounded her thoughts all this while?

He was leery upon first finding out of it, that much Jaune will admit. The revelation that such a mild-mannered and agreeable person might be a career criminal had thrown him off his rhythm. The oft-said line one hears on the evening news put it best. She didn't seem the type.

But then, he wasn't exactly what he appeared to be, either. Not since the start of Beacon, which he entered through false documents. And the same went for a lot of people he called friends.

Team RWBY hadn't intended to tell him and the rest of JNPR much of anything, but they were a loud, indiscreet bunch and their 'secrets' were known to more people than they would expect.

Blake's a former terrorist. Yang took part in back alley brawls and street races. Ruby's a vigilante.

Ren and Nora have seen some things, done some things, and only the fact that they were literal starving, orphaned children during their pre-Beacon days excused them from the label of 'bandit'.

He'd had the chance to listen in on a few conversations between his other classmates, too—which was another strike against his character now that he thought about it—and discovered that Beacon hosted quite a collection of ne'er-do-wells, enough that he wondered if a criminal background might not count as a hidden requirement for entrance. Taken altogether, it left Weiss and Pyrrha as the odd ones out among their year-group.

Ooh! There's also the brutal evisceration of Jax attached to his name. He'd almost forgotten that!

So, yeah, he had no room to judge Sundancer. She was a ray of sunshine in comparison to the den of outlaws he resided in for a year.

"My past isn't squeaky clean, either," he reassured Sundancer, shrugging his shoulders. "And I've seen for myself the way you act. You're pretty cool, and loads better than the shouty blue guy." They both snickered. "Still, I can't deny I'm curious on what made you choose to help out the heroes."

His ally stared into the sun she summoned, arms crossed and contemplative. Her answer, when it came, contained an undercurrent of shame.

"Honestly…I didn't want to. My group, we're working for this one villain, Coil, in exchange for him helping our friend and he ordered us to take part. I tried to get everyone to run but they didn't listen. I had to go because they went. And then- and then I learned what that thing can do. Leviathan was going to bring down the city, and there were hundreds of thousands of people in its path, all trapped in the shelters. I didn't want to be here, but how could I leave? "

Yet, so too were there the very heights of heroism. Jaune concluded that she would have done well as a Huntress.

Adamant down, CD-6.​

The synthetic voice intruded upon their conversation. Its cold message heralded the awakening of the beast. Along the road, heroes and villains whirled to look northward, straining to spot a sign of the battle.

Night deceased, CD-6.​

The armband announcement remained their best indicator.

Fog deceased, CD-6.​

The strategy spearheaded by Armsmaster worked as intended. Their casualties ticked upward by single counts, their distance forcing Leviathan to chase down targets.

Uber deceased, CD-6.​

It didn't sound like a win. Leviathan seemed no less unstoppable, inevitable.

By his side, Sundancer held herself, trembling. She flinched each time the armband chirped the name of a fallen. It's impossible to see an expression past the full facemask, but her shortened breath belied her panic.

To distract her, Jaune started talking.

"What do you do, outside of this?"

"Huh?" Was her numb reply.

"Life's not all great big balls of fire. What does Sundancer do when she has free time?"

She alternated her gaze between him and the direction of the battle, as if unsure if she had heard him correctly. In the end, his continued show of interest drew out a response.

"I p-play videogames. I'm actually a pro back home."

"That's awesome! I'm just a casual player, myself."

Emboldened, Sundancer said without prompting, "I also know ballet. It's been a while since I've done it, though."

"Nice. I saw a performance once. It's a lot different from ballroom dancing." His oddly specific comment garnered her attention.

"Ballroom?"

"My sisters made me learn. Totally bragging, I've gotten quite good at it, along with a couple modern styles. My friends and I killed it at our school dance."

Sundancer softly giggled, the sound muffled in part by the fabric of her costume. It couldn't quite drown out the next announcement, but she stayed calm through the report.

Faultline deceased, CD-6.​

The orb of fire increased in size.

"We had a blast. It was a great night," Jaune finished. The armband kept up a steady chant in the background.

Victor deceased, CD-6.​

"You know..." It was Sundancer who initiated the dialogue this time.

"Yes?" Jaune asked.

Sundancer fell quiet, seemingly losing her nerves. She turned her head to the side, facing with ease the intense light radiating from the miniature star she created. What she wanted, he had not a clue, but he stood by in his own silence, content to wait.

And, peering into her sun, she found a resolve.

"You know," Sundancer repeated, turning to look up at him, "a waltz can't be much harder than ballet. If we get out of this mess, how about we go dancing?"

"Sure thing. That sounds like a good time." Jaune mustered a smile for her, cheery and honest; and though he cannot see under her mask, he had a hunch Sundancer was doing the same in turn.

Whatever else they might say was left unspoken.

A giant ocean wave slammed against the ice wall conjured along the coast, an almighty crash sending up a roar to shake the city.

And far, far down the street, Leviathan stalked into view.

Oh, boy. Here we go again.

---

Author's notes: Jaune thinks he's so slick, coming up with his 'fool-proof' plan. He didn't expect the Brockton Bay welcoming committee.
One thing I like about Worm, I didn't even have to adjust the heroes' personalities for them to act like that.
.
Jaune, throughout - Imma grab all the flags with this Sundancer girl!
Sundancer, helping- Ooh, ooh, here's one! Ehem… Once this war is finally over and we go home…
.
Since there are elements of the story that our narrator cannot know about, and therefore cannot be explained in the text, I'll field questions, limited to those with answers that won't spoil future developments.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

Nobody made a move. Nobody wanted its attention. Heroes and villains watched in breathless terror as Leviathan slinked down the street. A lop-sided thing it was, one shoulder malformed with swollen growths. An ugly thing it was, face ripped away on one side. A hole through the belly, a gouge in the neck, the beast bore its wounds in total silence. Splattered on scaly hide were the blood of hunted prey, meeting rain to drip down in rivulets. Grasped in a hand was one such quarry, the remains of a man encased in armor and crown of steel, body torn in two and his legs nowhere to be seen. Leviathan discarded him with a careless throw.

"Is that…Kaiser?" Sundancer whispered.

Jaune frowned. That name hadn't been announced by the armband. Had it malfunctioned?

Leviathan pointed ahead with a claw and the seawater flooding the street responded, gathering. It soon formed a swell measuring the height of a man, spanning half the street across. A minute adjustment of the claw and the water moved to engulf a rusted van, lifting the wheels off the ground then pulling the entire thing towards the creature. Once the vehicle was close enough, sharp claws tore it asunder, revealing an empty interior.

Near where the van used to be, a dark figure—Skitter—rushed out of a hiding spot, sprinting to gain distance from the monster. Noticing her, Leviathan sent a water blade scything after the runner. Both Jaune and Sundancer shouted for her to duck, their voices drowned out in the rain.

Just before contact, the younger of the blond flying siblings landed next to Skitter and a blue bubble sprang up around them to weather the blow. Above, his sister retaliated by firing laser bolts at Leviathan.

From there, the battle began in earnest.

Those few who could, shot at Leviathan from range. A rifleman appeared over the lip of a building, unloading on the monster's head in an effort to hit the eyes. Twice, Leviathan launched watery afterimages to strike his position. Twice, he managed to take cover, and got up to continue the assault.

Leviathan, that clever beast, repeated the feat, this time whipping its tail back and forth to send two lines of water through the air, one hiding behind the other. The first was dodged like the ones prior, but the second… the rifleman never heard the warnings that others cried out, and the second blade neatly severed his neck as he popped up to take a shot. Leviathan did not spare him a glance as it lumbered on.

Jaune wondered what name the rifleman went by. The armband refused to say. His gunplay waylaid the monster for half a minute. His end came too soon.

"Jaune, how can you be so calm?"

"I'm screaming on the inside."

"Um. Wow. I wish I didn't know that. I thought maybe you weren't worried because you had a plan."

"I do have one. It's called 'protect Sundancer while she cooks the lizard'. So long as you're okay, I'm okay too."

"..."

"Do you feel better now?"

"Strangely enough, yes, I do."

Out of an alley came the next contender, a man in an odd outfit of blue overalls over a red shirt; a red cap sat atop his head. He was strapped down with a mix of devices and weapons, heeding no central theme that could be identified except perhaps that of an insane gadgeteer. It's difficult to tell past the heavy rainfall, but faintly can he be heard screaming at Leviathan.

The man brought up his left arm, which was encased in a blue egg-shaped thing from elbow to hand, and aimed it at the monster. The object flared and sparked, and for a worrying moment seemed about to go off, before spitting out a massive blast of golden energy that detonated on Leviathan's chest.

It slowed for a half-step, but nothing more.

Unbuckling the arm cannon, he let it drop in the flooded street as he swung a rifle from his back. It bore a ramshackle appearance, bulky with the internals on display. Blue beams sprayed in quick succession to zap Leviathan's face, nearly striking its eyes but for a hand rising to block the attacks.

As the man lined up a new shot, electricity crackled along the barrel and the muzzle melted into a useless lump. Not missing a beat, he unslung the rifle and hurled it at Leviathan. The gun landed at the monster's feet and erupted in an explosion, followed up by two cartoony bombs, and a blue turtle shell borne on wings whose detonation dwarfed the ones preceding.

Leviathan walked out of the smoke, missing some pieces but very much alive.

The red-capped man walked forward to meet it, cycling through his arsenal with reckless abandon.

A handgun that spewed jets of fire, used until it slagged. What Jaune recognized as a lightsaber, one that sputtered and smoked, summarily tossed at the beast to go boom. A purple gun of alien design, whose spiky projectiles snapped on Leviathan's hide. A blue circle on a wall, an orange counterpart on the opposite side of the street, linked portals for him to avoid a deadly burst of water. A red-and-white ball that opened up and deployed a yellow beam to no effect… then it set off in a devastating lightshow that scooped out part of the road. A dagger, slashed at a seawater tendril to turn it to ice. A book that launched fireballs, itself going up in flames. His hands continued on in a blur of motion, never resting.

Almost inevitably, the weapons would backfire in spectacular fashion. Yet, even that became another element of the offensive, though the man did not come out from it unscathed. Shocks and burns left their marks on him. Blood dripped down his body, mixing with the water at his feet. Patches of skin bubbled, or dried and cracked.

In return, he has inflicted greater harm upon Leviathan than any one person so far. Half the thing's eyes have shut. Little chunks were missing along its limbs and torso to create a pitted surface. The right hand has shriveled to an ashen husk, movable albeit slow. The monster listed to one side.

The man proceeded to pull out an oversized wooden hammer from a pouch (that disintegrated a moment later). Jaune goggled when the thing's head mechashifted into a rocket thruster, the back igniting to propel its wielder on a beeline for Leviathan. Ducking under a swipe, he smashed the hammer into Leviathan's kneecap with a *BOOM!* and a cloud of smoke.

Without even stopping to see what kind of damage it did, he winded the hammer back and swung it again…and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again until a glowing belt he wore fizzled out and the hammer crashed to the ground, suddenly too heavy for his arms to bear.

His knees hit the street soon after. He slumped in exhaustion.

Left with just his overalls and cap, the man stared up at the looming giant. It, in turn, regarded him for a short while, still as a statue. Then—in a slow, drawn-out movement akin to the raising of a guillotine—Leviathan lifted an arm high over its head.

The mad inventor watched it all play out, and in the moments before the end, a distraught howl filled with anger tore from his throat, its echoes ringing loud and clear over the rain to reach Jaune and Sundancer.

That rage. That despair. Who did he lose? Sharp claws descended, and they'll never know.

"Sundancer, Sundancer, are you sure you want to be here? Now could be your last chance to go."

"If I say I'm running away, what will you do?"

"…There's something for me here that I'm looking for. An object of great value I have never seen but I know I need, and might only be attained in this battle, if that makes any sense. Until it's found, I can't leave."

"Then, I'll stay, too."

With almost casual ease, Leviathan plunged its tail into a storefront, reeling out a person dressed in a blue devil outfit. A swarm of bugs, their controller unseen, affected a rescue by besieging the monster's face, in vain as it ignored the insects to slam the prey against the ground. A sickening crunch, and what remained of the body was released.

Blades of water flew, and they collapsed the front section of a carport. Blood seeped out of the rubble to mark a passing, while nearby another figure dug themselves out, none the worse for wear.

A needle measuring several feet long pierced one of Leviathan's leg. Shadowy bolts failed to do the same. Leviathan swept an arm. High on a rooftop, two figures abandoned their sniping position as it was crushed by the attack. They withdrew rather than risk firing a second salvo.

And then, it's down to Jaune and Sundancer. After a procession of heroes and villains, all that stood between their team of two and Leviathan was the length of a city block.

"Sundancer, Sundancer, it's our turn. Are you ready?"

"I am, so lead on."

They drew closer together, Jaune one step ahead with his shield raised, Sundancer half-hidden at his back, her sun in tow at a safe distance. At his direction, she alternated the ball from one side of the street to the other, vanishing away some of the water behind them to prevent the possibility of a sneaky wave or geyser coalescing in their blindspot.

Quick as a flash, Leviathan opened the battle by whipping its tail at them, the thick limb halting midway. The watery echo continued, on track to take their heads off.

Beacon-honed instincts took over in response. Fear abated, the future pushed aside, here and now it was time for a fight.

The first move Jaune performed in this conflict was aimed at Sundancer. He swept out her leg, dropping himself low in kind. One hand went under her, the other angled his shield up. Most of the water passed harmlessly overhead, with the very edge clipping the metal in a weakened blow. Peeking around Crocea Mors, he spotted an area of bulging water, and recognized Leviathan's work. It was building up for a wave.

Assisting Sundancer upright, he spoke in her ear.

"Swing your sun around, fast as you can!"

He thought that meant a jogging pace when he gave the order. It's the limit to what she had shown. What he didn't expect was for her to have been playing nice all this while. The fireball outpaced a man sprinting, drawing a curved path that evaporated swathes of the water below as it careened towards Leviathan.

Before the mini sun forced him to turn his head, Jaune caught a last glimpse of the monster leaping backward, ditching its attack for the sake of finding safety.

"It's…afraid."

Spotting movement, Jaune spun his ally to switch places, with him facing the spot where the water was molding into a tendril, coiled to spring. One slash of his sword and it lost its form. He then barked out a laugh and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"IT'S AFRAID! ! !"

The echo bounced off the buildings around them.

He had suspected it. He had dared to dream of it. But oh, did it feel amazing to see the truth confirmed with his very eyes. Elated, Jaune peered down at the girl who wielded a star, and said for only her to hear.

"I think we've got a real shot at making it to tomorrow, Sundancer. We just have to hang on. Follow my lead."

"Yes!" She replied, giddy. Interlaced within her voice was a new vigor, a resolve to fight now strengthened by a hope to live.

They scanned the surroundings for Leviathan's next move. Sundancer, able to look at her conjuration, discovered it first. She pointed high.

"It's jumping over!"

Jaune grabbed her, and ran. Slung over his shoulder, she pulled the sun after them, and Jaune directed her to position it in their former place, under where Leviathan will land.

"No good! It just latched onto a building with the tail!"

Turning his head, he watched the monster slam into the ground, having redirected its bulk out of harm's way. Leviathan rolled to its feet, neck twisting in a mirror pose of Jaune to stare at the pair.

Setting Sundancer down, he used the free hand to flip off the beast.

A thought occurred, and he addressed Sundancer. "I wasn't too rough on you, was I?"

It had not seemed so at the time, the girl exhibiting a dancer's grace to shift her body almost in sync with his movements, but he had first-hand experience on how sudden motions can disorient a person.

Sundancer shook her head. "No, it's… I think I would be dead by now if not for you. You're fast."

"Combat training will do that." He shrugged, eyes riveted on Leviathan. "Is it fine if I keep moving you like this?"

"Eheh. Please do."

At once, he grabbed her hand. "Good! Because it's attacking."

"It's wha–eep!"

Sundancer went from standing adjacent him, to spinning on a revolution that placed Jaune between her and three water-claws—his shield tanking the brunt of them, to in front of him with one arm outstretched to guide the miniature star. It obeyed her command and accelerated at their foe.

In a burst of speed, Leviathan dove to the right, the fireball searing one side of the monster black in its passing. It rolled as it hit the road, the water steaming when touched by the burnt hide. The maneuver finished with an arm planted deep in the asphalt to stop its momentum, and after Leviathan recovered it kicked off the ground to rush them. Jaune resettled half a step ahead of Sundancer, a hand at the small of her back.

"Don't panic."

"It's getting close."

"Don't panic."

"It's getting way too close!"

Do matadors exist in this universe? He'd have to ask his new acquaintance later. In the here and now, he observed the approaching beast, eyes flitting at a frantic pace to take note of the possible escape routes.

It hunched a shoulder. He made his choice.

A twirl and Leviathan skirted on by, its ever-present cloak of moisture missing by inches. Sundancer was screaming in his ear, unaccustomed to this level of intensity that she could scarcely follow.

The monster tried to turn, one arm swiping back at the pair; it failed to connect, too far out of reach. Jaune didn't drop his guard, crouching low with Sundancer, the shield forming an incline and his body wholly blocking hers. As anticipated, a sword of water bridged the shortfall, smacking the surface of Crocea Mors with a clang, the force diverting upward in a spray, pouring down with the rain.

Movement stopped for both sides. Jaune and the beast locked eyes, sizing each other up during the stalemate. The sun relocated near, ready to intercept should Leviathan renewed its assault.

A red bolt of light slapped the mouthless face. Beast, boy, and girl turned in the direction from whence it came, just in time to see a giant needle zoom through the air. Leviathan attempted to counter it with an afterimage of its claws, and received a puncture wound in the palm for its efforts.

The nearby heroes and villains have rejoined the battle. No more sacrifices, they were here to make a stand. Hope had bloomed again.

Yaaaay!

The mini star shrank a whole magnitude smaller. Jaune whipped his head towards the other girl.

"Sundancer! Are you hurt?" He checked over her for wounds, seeing nothing beyond scratches. Still, he noted how she had hunched over, limbs locking up.

"I…they…"

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"There's too many people!"

"I don't understand. Isn't that a good thing? They'll back us up."

"NO! I mean— what if I hit them!?" She wailed. The girl in his arms was hyperventilating by this point. Her visored mask began darting this way and that. With a jerk, the sun moved further from the buildings, and fell below the fliers. It continued to diminish as time went on. Becoming weaker. Safer.

And it dawned for Jaune at last.

Sundancer was frightened of what she could do. She had downplayed her power in the beginning—reducing the speed and strength of the sun she wielded, maneuvering it with utmost care—because the idea of killing a person had sickened her even when the target in question was an enemy. Now, with allies of unknown numbers dotting the area, she saw the possibility of her sun cutting a bloody swath across the landscape, and panicked. Rightly so, Jaune had to admit, because he cannot deny the absolute lethality of that fiery orb. Simple proximity could spell death.

Why then, had she released that tight control earlier?

Because of him. Because he said so. Upon his orders, the sun raced and swooped and flew without a hint of worry. In possession of a peaceful–almost passive–temperament, she meekly listened to his command on the impression that he knew what he was doing. It told of a crippling lack of self-confidence.

A flaw he could encourage so she'd fight as he wanted, or…

"It'd be fine. You won't make a mistake."

The battlefield was no place to play therapist. He'll give it a good try, anyway, and there's no better time than when other people were distracting the beast.

"B-but…"

"It'd be fine," he repeated with emphasis. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulder in a half-hug. "Because your control is impeccable. I'm proof of it. Look at how I've fought by your side. I spun you round and round, until you can't tell what's up or down. Yet, I got out with not a single lock of hair singed. All the damage you've inflicted landed on that scaly bastard. Who can boast of such accuracy? You. Only you." The sun pulsed, shining a touch stronger to signify he was on the right track.

"That was when it's just you and me," she mumbled. "With so many more people, I can't watch everyone to make sure I won't k– hurt them."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here to support you, then. We'll work together, two pairs of eyes to cover all angles. That's the way of it back where I came from." Leaning down, peering into her visor, he said, "Rely on me, as I rely on you, and the brighter tomorrow will surely arrive for us." That was what Beacon had stood for. He missed it already.

Her voice, thick with emotion, asked one thing of him. "Promise?"

Heh.

An Arc never goes back on their promise. That's what the stories say. As a consequence, most Arcs tended to be real careful with the 'P' word. It's not worth the trouble, as his careless mouth had learned so often.

"I promise." Jaune agreed to yet another one with a smile.

Sundancer stood straighter now, surer. Her hands were clenched in fists, raised to her chest. She looked past his shoulder, and Jaune felt the day grow warmer, sunnier.

"I didn't mean to freak out..."

"Who could ever blame you?" Jaune countered. "A love for your fellows is not a flaw. Just know that I'm here to lend a hand."

A sniffle, badly hidden. "Watch my back?"

"Of course."

They re-entered the conflict and the combatants, whatever their alignment, took notice. The sun drew a lazy arc to start, visible and obvious. Those with a working brain saw their silver bullet, and removed themselves from its path; those without ended up doing so anyway when the temperature became too much to bear. Fliers migrated up and back relative to them, giving the sun a wide berth. Thus, a thin corridor opened among their allies to grant them space for fighting. It was the best the two were going to get.

Sundancer set the fireball high at his suggestion, aimed down instead of sideways to gain a greater measure of safety for other people.

"Clear!" On Jaune's go-ahead, the orb hurtled towards Leviathan. It missed as the monster evaded, just barely, and melted a hole in the street. "Reel!"

The sun reverse-coursed on the same trajectory it fired, functioning as a jab rather than the wild swings of previous. It came to a rest in the original position while the other heroes and villains rushed at the beast to get their licks in.

'Clear!' and 'Reel!' evolved into a rhythm as Jaune and Sundancer grew adept at spotting opportunities within the chaotic scramble. In the downtime, Jaune's mouth never rested, calling out to other combatants when the chance presented itself. Mostly, it was to shout warnings, often some variation of 'Move, you idiot!', but he also tried to organize those who wielded powers he had gotten a grasp on so they could better mesh with the offensive.

Some listened. Others had their own ideas, deaf to the strategies in play. Naturally, problems arose.

In the middle of helping Sundancer retarget, a laser sped past his head from someone who thought they'd make great cover to hide behind, grazing way too close for comfort. By reflex, he jerked from it, and caused Sundancer's shot to go entirely off-course. The monster used the lucky reprieve to return a salvo of water-claws that forced the pair to hunker down and lose a precious opportunity. After it ended, Jaune peeked over the lip of the shield, and beheld an open field.

"Cl—" Jaune had to bite down on the word as a teeming cloud of insects flew by, breaking their sightline of Leviathan. What it accomplished he couldn't tell, but it dispersed to leave him a nasty surprise. A wide cutting scythe of water filled his vision.

Diverting the blow proved impossible. He planted his feet solidly, and took it head on with Crocea Mors.

Numbness spread over the shield arm. A portion of the blade, a mere handful's worth of moisture, slipped through his guard to sock him in the jaw, scrambling his thoughts.

"JAUNE!" Sundancer, seeing how he stumbled as she stood at his back, screamed in worry. "Are you okay!?"

"Uuuugh, yeah. Yeah." Things stopped spinning. His stance firmed. "I'm good to keep fighting. Don't worry."

The sentiment changed when he spied a new development that was absolutely worthy of worry. During his short period of disorientation, Leviathan had created a ten-feet high wave that nobody could dispel. The sun was out of range to block it. With a push of a hand, the swell of water rushed at them.

Timely rescue arrived in the form of the blond siblings' younger brother. Dropping out of the sky ahead of them, he activated his power. A blue forcefield sprang up to take the brunt of the wave.

"Nice! Thank- Sundancer, we've got to move!"

The overflow from the wave had spiraled into a geyser. It barreled on, set to pummel Jaune's group. Hoping to destabilize the jet of water, Sundancer recalled her orb, but suspended the endeavor as the sun risked flying too near to people. The geyser lost cohesion in part, yet maintained course.

His plan was simpler. Grabbing her, Jaune hastened out of harm's way—and bounced off the wrong side of an energy barrier being deployed by a person in high tech armor. They've taken cover within, attention focused on the incoming strike with none to spare for others in their vicinity.

Left with little choice, Jaune parried the attack on his shield, twisting his body to flip over Sundancer rather than crash into her. He hit the street, knees and elbows slamming against the asphalt to flare in agony; mouthfuls of filthy seawater entered his lungs in the process.

Coughing and sputtering, he struggled to get back on his feet, slipped and had to be caught by Sundancer. She struggled to hold up his form, and exhaled a relieved breath when he was finally able to stand on his own.

Angry, frustrated, he scanned the battlefield. It was getting messy. Sloppy. The body count has begun ticking up in a repeat of the fight at the intersection.

Rage boiled over. He roared over the din.

"Damn you all, just MOVE ASIDE!"

And, they did. Not by their own cognizance, though. Whose power it belonged to, he hadn't a clue, but the space in front of him warped in mind-bending twists and—suddenly—a clear road stood before the duo. The person who did this deserved a medal. Sundancer agreed, and she pressed the advantage, not even needing his command. The mini star went screaming down the lane.

Leviathan responded by raising a wall with its hydrokinesis. Water met fire, and exploded into steam. Their foe vanished from sight; it had been engulfed by the billowing cloud.

Seconds passed, quiet but for the rain. A woman garbed in forest green and a wispy cloak gestured with her hands to call up a light wind. She channeled it to blow away the steam, revealing…

Nothing. Where did Leviathan go?

"It's circling behind us!" The assembled heroes and villains spun towards the shrill cry. It belonged to Skitter, who was staring at the buildings that lined the street. Her head slowly turned to track something unseen.

Her gaze reached a street corner.

Leviathan bounded into view, the tail enabling it to adjust course without losing speed. Its legs moved in a blur, outright sprinting faster than a car as it raced at the combatants —no, at Sundancer. The last three working eyes of the monster centered solely on her. People in its path went ignored. Attacks washed off without retaliation.

It swiped a hand, launching echoes of its claws. It swung the other, reinforcing with more of the same. The tail was next, contributing a horizontal line going from one side of the street to the other. Then, it restarted the combo, bringing forth a frenzied onslaught the likes of which they were completely unprepared for.

Facing this grinding, slicing storm of blades, Jane considered their options. Simulated the encounter. Calculated his moves. He…did not fancy those chances.

Go wide, go high, both futile. Block or dodge, they'd die. Retreat to nowhere, advance to nothing. Leviathan, that unstoppable beast, was going full-tilt in pursuit of one goal, for the girl by his side to perish.

It was looking like Leviathan would get its wish. This went beyond Jaune's capabilities to overcome. He'd break if he tried. Judging by the choked gurgle that escaped Sundancer's lips, she has arrived at a similar conclusion.

There existed a part of him, a nasty and ugly thing, that told Jaune he could therefore seek to save his own life. Give her up as a loss. Hunker down, roll into a ball. Make himself small. Trust in Aura to spare his hide. He'll get out alive. That voice crooned so enticingly, indeed.

There then arose another piece, that which encompassed the promise he swore, and it rebelled.

No. No! Like hell! Sundancer had stepped up when the occasion called, risking her life despite her doubts and fears. It's his turn to stand on that same line.

No sooner had he thought so, and put himself forward to protect his friend, did Jaune hear a steady thumping. The rhythm intensified, louder and louder as the barrage drew near. It grew to be the only sound in the world, this roaring heartbeat of his.

What might the sensation he's feeling be, the pulse of invigoration that set his body afire?

It's… familiar.

The first of the attacks struck, two claws on his shield, one passing over the rim to cut into his neck. Aura or no, he should have fallen dead from the sheer burst of damage concentrating on one point.

He should have, but for the light which lit him aglow. It radiated not from the faraway sun, seeming rather to emerge from within. Alongside it came an unshakable certainty. Right now, he could hold back the world if he needed to.

The blade of water cut into his neck. It stopped cold, failing to break skin.

And unlike that day in Forever Fall so long ago, he did not close his eyes. He did not let the fleeting moment slip away. Someone was counting on him still, so Jaune wrested hold of the power, willing the gates connecting him with that well of energy to stay open.

Using his shield, he batted aside the second set of claws. The force that had strained his arm now caved as it met an object too hard to overwhelm. The road crumbled beneath the heels of his feet as he pitted himself against the fake tail. A flurry of counters scattered the onrush of water blades that followed. The real tail speared Jaune in the chest. It knocked the breath out of him, and naught else. He has yet to retreat a single step, utterly immovable.

Leviathan itself slowed, then paused, as it arrived in front of Jaune, brought short by an unexpected deviation in the plan. It slapped down with an arm, and was soundly rebuffed. Next was a repeat, only harder. Nothing changed, so it fired a water-echo of a claw, then bolstered the attack by using the whole hand, moving on to an arm in a gradual escalation.

It seemed very, very confused, and Jaune laughed in its face as the clues lined up.

The thing could sense power, it must. That's how it knew he was supposed to be dealt with already. The attacks unleashed were more than adequate to turn a mere human to ribbons. And so, unable to fathom the presence of Aura, it gawked at the anomaly that withstood the blow when he should falter. Lived, when he should die. Here was a creature that defied reality, a thing incalculable to the great beast.

Though, he had his limits.

All too soon, the attacks progressed to the level where his peculiar state cannot fully compensate for the opposing force and leverage. Leviathan's long tail rose high, then dropped like an axe to crush him. Prepared as he was, with shield held in both hands, Jaune's knees buckled under the strain. He hardly recovered before a massive arm bashed his front, nearly making him crash into his charge. Wiping off the water in his eyes, Jaune looked up at the approaching Leviathan.

Yeah, asking him to hold out for much longer would be too tall an order. But then…

A sudden feeling of summer heat caused him to break out in a grin.

…he was never the star of the show. Just the distraction.

"Let him have it, Sunny Days."

Joyful laughter was her answer to him, as Sundancer did exactly that. Her star had navigated all obstacles, tracing a near circle to avoid hurting Jaune, and intense light bore down on him from the sun crossing the sky overhead. In a reversal of their tactics thus far, Sundancer took command, ordering him.

"Jaune…run fast."

Asking no questions, he scooped up the girl and booked it. Behind them, the burning star crashed down on Leviathan at a speed far faster than Sundancer had ever displayed, only possible now because she trusted her partner to survive. The orb connected with Leviathan's back, heat exerting a near physical force to press it to the ground. The beast went wild, thrashing as steam and smoke wafted from its skin, blending together in a spiral pattern. The veil of moisture that it secreted at a constant pace dried up in a flash. Water from the area drew to the beast, vanishing long before reaching Leviathan. The few waves that managed to form struck the sun, the buildings, the roads, anywhere and everywhere in a blind panic. Cautious, Jaune carried Sundancer further out of range from the frenzy before he dared to release her. Side by side, they watched in awe as the monster attempted to drag its sorry carcass towards, not them, but the ocean. Away.

Jaune and Sundancer both sensed it, the turning of the tide. Leviathan was hurting, pushed to the brink. The thing wanted out. Victory was at hand.

They've done it. She's done it!

Their hearts soared in triumph. The beginning of a cheer was ready to burst from their lips.

The elation withered as an object interposed itself between Leviathan and the pair. Lobbed in a gentle arc, it spun in a slow revolution, allowing them to observe the particulars of the object's design, a cylinder colored yellow with a blinking light at the end and buttons along one side.

It sort of looked like a bomb.

The object landed in the water with a splash, closer to Leviathan than them. There shortly followed a dull, muffled thump. Nothing happened for the briefest of moments.

Then, the surface bulged. Volumes of water became displaced. There ensued no explosions, no fire, only a formless pressure spreading out from the point of origin at a walking pace. Slow, deceptively so.

This mysterious effect surpassed a tipping point, and accelerated. The water around it was shoved away in an ever-expanding ring, rain bouncing off an invisible barrier as the asphalt underneath rumbled. The circle extended to Leviathan and induced a minor tremble along its body, the beast too heavy and dense to be much affected.

The phenomenon raced on. A roar reached Jaune's ears. No time to think, to question, he pulled Sundancer into a protective embrace. Pure impact struck them in the next instant, taking the pair clear off their feet.

The sun shining above the battlefield collapsed into nothingness.

---

Author's Notes: Whodunit? Whydunit?
I'm betting it's that Skitter person. She saw what looked like two riajuus walking hand in hand past her earlier and wanted them to explode.

A stranger came from distant lands to raise up a hero, the two fighting back-to-back, coming to rely on one another, each growing as a person and a partner, until—against all odds—they reach the point of victory… whereupon they ate a bomb to the face? Where are we, Worm? * Checks to see if this is in Worm* Yup, it's Worm.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

A hand to cradle her head. Another on her waist, pulling Sundancer into him. His back was to the blast. A twist, his back now faced the ground. An impact, and something snapped. Not his. Hers.

He skipped on the shallow water, hit a sheet of red energy fanning out in the air, an impromptu cushion that he crashed right on through. Again a shield appeared to slow them down, to the same result. He glanced off the roof of a car, flipping end over end. Sundancer was wrenched from his arms. Terror, as he lost track of her.

Coming down, his face smashed into the asphalt. An involuntary breath and nostrils became filled with seawater. Sputtering, drowning, he tried to reorient himself. A hand found purchase on rough, beaten road, and pushed to bring his head above the flood. Air was his reward.

The water he inhaled came back up, expelled in great heaves. Shapes and colors danced before his eyes, coalescing over time into buildings, objects, and moving things. The moving things were people, his mind supplied as it cleared. A last moment of confusion had him staring down at his empty hands.

"Sundancer?"

A blur of blue dashed past. Not important. The girl he sought wore red and black. He scanned the road, and spotted her a distance away, slumped along a wall like a puppet with its strings cut as the waterline lapped just below her chin. She looked…

Bad. Badbadbadbadbad.

"Sundancer!"

Flailing off-balanced, he got back upright and stumbled over to the girl. With arms and legs splayed out at sickening angles, her head lolling, she didn't respond to his shout, coughing in labored rasps that sounded as if she was choking. The visor on the mask had cracked, and spots of dark fluid stained the cloth; he ran his fingers under her chin to find the seams to the garment before gingerly pulling the whole thing off.

The first glimpse he received of his friend's uncovered face was of long blonde hair and pretty features drenched in crimson. Freed from the mask, a glob of blood dribbled from her mouth and down her chin. More poured from her ears and nose. Her skin was pale, wan. There were cuts around her eyes; blue irises rolled madly until they landed on him.

"Ja…Jan…whahapp'n…J-J–?" She slurred in an effort to form words. The many, many wounds didn't seem to register with her, leading Sundancer to attempt to move. She scrunched her face in pain. "Ggghh! Ahhh!"

His hands darted forward, instantly rescinding as if scalded. The urge to help ease her agony in some way warred with the thought that he would hurt her more if he touched on an injury by accident.

"Sundancer, don't move, okay? Please don't move. We were hit by a bomb or something, and you're injured, b-but it'll be okay, so just—"

"Huuurd…"

"And we'll make it not hurt. Soon, alright? I'm gonna get you to people who can help." Jaune babbled on as he raced through his options. Long-ingrained common sense jumped first to the solution that said to call for an ambulance. Futile, as his scroll relied on the CCT network instead of whatever it was that people had here, and because they were located at the center of a warzone.

"Aumban…c-call hep…"

Armband, call help? The armbands can be used to communicate! Jaune moved down to the device on her wrist. Unable to decipher the unmarked buttons, he opted for pressing on each in turn.

Hope sank at the sight of a blank and unresponsive screen. Its power had cut out at some point.

"Dammit! It happened to you, too?"

Jaune spun towards the voice, seeing a person descending from the air to hover over the pair. Maskless and sporting a white bodysuit stylized with red arrows, it was the elder of the siblings duo, the one to fire lasers. On her wrist, a similarly dark armband.

"Okay, teleporter evac is out, which isn't ideal, but I can fly her—oh." The flier wilted as she took in the numerous injuries Sundancer bore. "Fuck. Shit. Panacea can heal this, she can heal anything, but to get there…" She trailed off, too late to spare Jaune the message.

In her current state, Sundancer would never reach this Panacea.

A sniff drew his gaze back to Sundancer. Tears were streaming down her face to rip his heart in two. Cupping a cheek, he carefully rubbed his thumb in a soothing motion.

"It's going to be fine, Sundancer," Jaune mumbled, the empty platitude ringing hollow. "You'll see. I'll fix this. I'll…I'll…"

That scroll full of miracles, can he buy things from it?

He had dismissed the possibility due to the message that prohibited selling items outside the so-called [Home Base] area without an ability to circumvent the restriction. He stood far from the former, and was missing the latter. Yet, that was all the scroll stated; it said not a word on spending Points. And hadn't Jax purchased [Emergency Recall] from Remnant?

The notion, however implausible, was all Jaune had left. He plunged a hand into his pocket.

Scroll unlocked and Hardlight screen spread out, Jaune entered the Marketplace app, quickly navigating to the Medical section. The choices rolled out in an unending list. Resentment flared in him upon seeing too many of them priced outside his means while knowing they were the exact solutions he desired; the pod that had brought him back from the brink was right there, on sale for five times his available line of credit.

As for what he can afford, the choices narrowed in function and scope. Mundane supplies came up in droves, ineffectual against the severity of the injuries. A host of strange names appeared next, whose effects seemed no better; they were just common items from universes not his own. Jaune skimmed past the descriptions in increasing desperation, sparing a mere second or two for each one, searching for…this.

Blood-Replenishing Potions, costing 25 Points for five bottles. Something from nothing, a means of restoring Sundancer's fading blood levels while lessening the strain put on her as the next item did its work.

Stimpaks, a set of ten for 50 Points. What it can treat boggled the mind, a true paramedic's dream. Possibly dangerous to a person at death's door as it cannibalizes the energy reserves of the body to stoke their natural regeneration. Employed in conjunction with the potions, however, and the risk may become moot, or at least mitigated.

Still, neither risk nor cost mattered if he failed to make it past the real concern. A tremulous thumb tapped on the purchase button.


Stimpaks x10, Blood-Replenishing Potions x5
Points Cost: 75
Points Balance: 0
Insufficient Points. Buy on—


That was all he needed to read. Jaune slammed his finger on the second button to confirm the order.

"Yes! Hell yes!" He whooped as two glass cases materialized to levitate in front of him, revolving to showcase the contents within. His hands passed through the side of the first box as if it were never there, and the contraption vanished the moment he removed the tray holding the round, glass bottles. Leaving the second case to float in midair—a baffled woman flying alongside it, staring agog—he grabbed one bottle by the slender neck, with the rest lowered to the water where they bobbed up and down, and drew close to the injured girl.

"Sundancer, drink this. Hurry." He unstoppered the bottle and tipped it, letting the syrupy medicine trickle between her lips. Much of the fluid spilled back out, but once he saw that she managed to swallow some down without gagging, Jaune tilted the potion further. When half the bottle was gone, he put it to the side for later, and turned to the container holding the stimpaks.

The second case popped out of existence as he took out the small, plastic package—colored white and bearing red crosses on the sides and top—which opened to reveal ten syringes resting in two neat rows, capped by numbered gauges and loaded with a pink liquid. The accompanying label on the roof of the box detailed usage instructions. It read simply enough, except for a couple of words.

"Intravenous and intramuscular. Does that mean I can inject it in either vein or muscle?" His question caught the flier by surprise.

"Huh?"

"Hurry, please!"

"Uh, uh, yes! I'm pretty sure it is! I saw it on Jeopardy once."

Dubious, but that was the best second opinion he was going to find. Jaune tore open the costume material on Sundancer's right arm, and jabbed the needle at an unblemished (and thus, to his amateur diagnosis, uninjured) spot. After the syringe had finished delivering its contents, he removed the device, and watched for a sign of the medicine affecting her.

One second. Nothing observable occurred.

Two seconds. His heart sped up, gripped by fear.

Three seconds. Four. F-five.

Sundancer gave a sob, and it nearly sent him into a panic until he noticed the cuts on her face closing shut and her posture untensing. Delicate, blood-stained lips quirked in an unbidden smile of relief as the pain wracking her began to ebb.

He did not cry. It was the rain.

Setting to work, he assisted her in finishing the half-full Blood-Replenishing Potion, which he followed up with another stimpak injection. Color returned to deathly-pale skin, and swiping a thumb across the trail of blood on the corner of her mouth showed that it had ceased flowing. He proceeded to add a second bottle plus two more syringes, choosing to err on the side of too much healing rather than not enough. Was it the right procedure? Can a person overdose on these items? He didn't know, but didn't dare to stop.

After the fifth stimpak and third potion had been administered, the condition of Sundancer stabilized to the best as it would get. Both her legs and arms remained broken, and she had difficulty breathing still—it may relate to a protrusion under the skin located on her ribcage, a sight that worried him immensely—but the medicine seemed to be keeping her from experiencing the pain in full, reducing it to a dull ache. In the meantime, Sundancer was able to shift her body to a better position, and Jaune helped to hold her head above the water as he wiped away what he could of the residual streaks of blood. The fact she can muster the energy to voice reassurances whilst chuckling at his mother-hen impression mollified him somewhat.

"You saved me again…"

"No, I messed up. I was dumb and got it in my head that the scroll wouldn't work here. If I had thought of it sooner, I could have spared you a lot of suffering." Jaune chided himself. The device was too new, too unfamiliar, for his mind to jump directly to it in a pinch. That'd have to change going forward. When his savings start filling up, the store may provide any number of useful, if not outright essential, solutions beyond his normal means.

"Stop that! If, if, if! Well, if we never met in the first place, I would have died." Sundancer insisted, giving a petulant huff. "So I'm thanking you, and nothing you say will change my mind."

"But, still—"

"Not. A. Thing. Thank you very much!"

"I—"

"Thank you!"

"W—" He started.

"Thank—" She was ready to cut him off.

"...Heh. So that's how it's going to be, then?"

"Yup. That's how it's going to be. And thank you!"

Blue eyes gazed into blue eyes, and they shared a laugh together.

"Not that this isn't adorable," a voice interrupted, and Jaune almost dropped Sundancer in surprise, having forgotten about the flying hero, "because it totally is and I'm squeeing my heart out on the inside, but I would like to remind you that she still needs proper medical attention, and there's this minor annoyance in the area called Leviathan. Remember him? We need to go."

"Right. Crap. Where's that monster run to?"

She pointed behind him. Jaune and Sundancer craned their necks to look.

Far down the street, deep within the curtains of rain, two shapes were locked in combat, Leviathan was a silhouette in the dark visible only when it moved, while the smaller figure appeared faintly blue. As they carried on their battle, Jaune was able to pick out further details, putting name to costume.

"Armsmaster is beating it back, so we have an opening—" The flier flinched as she saw the expression stealing across his face.

"And why, oh why, would he be in a position to do that, I wonder," said Jaune, with chilly politeness. A twitch had developed at the corner of his mouth and it was taking quite the effort to suppress the snarl. "Did you see what happened to us, perchance?"

Although, he can already make a few guesses as to the whats and the hows. And who.

The woman gulped. "Armsmaster, he… he threw a bomb, it's some kind of concussive blast that knocked everything over and blew out the windows." Seeing his face become thunderous as she spoke, the flying blonde continued in a rush. "But he must have had a reason to do it. This is Armsmaster we're talking about, and he wouldn't ever break the Truce! He probably spotted Leviathan pulling a trick or about to attack you, and he didn't have time to use anything else? Or- or he just misaimed when trying to help finish it off?"

So she says. Did he buy it? Hell no!

He didn't know which he wanted to kill more at the moment, the mass-murdering beast or the backstabbing beast. One was impersonal in its animosity, seeking to murderize everyone in the city, of which he and Sundancer were just a couple of nameless nobodies to be included. The other carried out a deliberate maiming—scratch that, an outright murder attempt!—of his friend, and made him break his promise. Sundancer had counted on him to keep her safe. Because of Armsmaster, look where that miserable idea went. He almost lost her!

The needle, already weighted, ticked decisively over to one side when the voice of Armsmaster drifted to their ears.

"For the terror and destruction you've inflicted on the people of this world, I, Armsmaster, will send you to your grave! Today, you die by my hands, Leviathan!"

Borne on speakers that amplified each word as if to let the entire world hear, the proclamation surely struck awe into the hearts of heroes and villains alike. Deep, rich, and strong, his was the type of voice that one expected from a true superhero, and projected utmost certainty. None who heard those words would doubt his claim. It sounded larger than life. It sounded like judgment passed down from a king.

To Jaune, neither hero nor villain but a victim of the man's actions, those words rang with a different connotation.

I will become legend. I will become greater than Legend.

The arrogance to believe that his ability can surpass that of a thousand laser beams. The blindness to think he can match the might of a burning sun. As the man continued speaking—mocking Leviathan, extolling the inevitability of its defeat, and boasting of his surefire victory—anger flared on Jaune's face.

Did he and Sundancer get stonewalled so Armsmaster can enjoy this opportunity? Earlier at the intersection, seeing an upstart villain ready to deal what could well be the crucial blow on a time-locked Leviathan must have sent him into such a tizzy; it's little wonder that he erupted on them in a rage. As for the bombs he strapped on the beast's frozen form, Jaune derided them as ineffective, but they had served their purpose in truth. Armsmaster wanted the honor of the first strike. Then, one more piece of explosive granted him a chance to steal the kill after so many have given their lives to whittle down the enemy.

Heroes and villains, dead for the sake of his moment in the spotlight. Sundancer's victory, snatched away at the finish. The masterstroke of a rousing speech, presenting his version of events to the world at large before the truth can spread...

Bravo, that chaser of glory, the monster without peer. Come tomorrow, there won't be a single person that does not know his name.

Maybe not in the manner he wanted, though. Jaune was going to put an early end to Armsmaster's dream, likely along with Armsmaster, in as loud a fashion as possible. He's gotten a bit of practice, only a day ago, in the proper way to handle this exact sort of psycho who would mow down allies with scant remorse. It's a habit he would not particularly mind developing.

Hehehe, turnabout was fairplay, he should take a page from the man's book and wait until Leviathan lay on the very edge of death's door to spring the trap.

"Jaune? It's starting to hurt again. Can I get some more of that medicine?"

Sundancer's request jolted him out of his half-formed plans to achieve payback and he set them aside to refocus on the injured girl, preparing a new stimpak on one hand in a now well-practiced motion. A flick sent the cap flying off. A twirl placed his fingers and palm in the correct position. He set the needle against her arm, and Sundancer squeezed her eyes shut as the syringe plunged into skin.

When finished, he disposed of the empty stimpak.

"Please don't attack him."

"Huh?"

Sundancer had reopened her eyes, and an insistent gaze bore into Jaune to let him know that he had been rather blatant in his designs. "The lives of so many people depend on Leviathan's defeat. We can't interfere with that."

"It was supposed to be you that won!" He protested, but she gave a small shake of her head.

"I'll be happy just seeing it gone. As for who gets credit…if I'm known for beating Leviathan, they'd ask me to keep hurting things. Maybe people, too, down the line. He's welcome to that fate. Please, Jaune, let it be."

Jaune didn't fancy that idea. Hated it, in fact. Notions of seeking glory and renown had been beaten out of him by Pyrrha during their training nights, the girl herself exemplifying the concept of putting duty before personal fame. For his troubles, he got shot up with a few dozen bullets; Pyrrha received the doozy that was an extra soul which may or may not destroy her own soul in time. Sundancer fared no better, nearly losing her life fighting for the sake of others. Armsmaster being rewarded for doing the complete opposite rankled him to no end.

"It's not fair. You know that, right?" Seeing Sundancer remain adamant, Jaune huffed in defeat. "You are a terrible villain. As in, you're no good at it. At least tell me you'll set his pants on fire if he shows his smug face around us."

An exasperated roll of her eyes, and she said, "No promises. All I want now is a bed, and to move my arms and legs like normal again."

"And I'll get you to both, pronto!" The flier declared, then addressed Jaune. "Also, while I still think you're wrong about Armsmaster, I'm going to make sure people know of you two's contributions." Sundancer opened her mouth to object, but the blonde barreled on. "If you really mean to avoid notice, I can downplay your part, but even helping to kill an Endbringer should get you a good payout, so why don't you think about it?"

Sundancer did appear somewhat pensive upon hearing mention of a payment; Jaune took it as a win, and directed a grateful nod to the flying hero. That sentiment redoubled after she conjured a long, stretcher-like forcefield for him to lay Sundancer on. Recalling how he crashed through two of these after the bomb hit him, Jaune rapped his knuckles on the surface to test out the solidity.

"How strong is this thing? Can it support the both of us?"

The flier winced. "It's kinda brittle, so be gentle; my shields are the weakest in the family. I can carry little miss sunshine here, but you might have to stay, unless…" She turned towards the fighting, eyes scanning the sky above it, "Shielder! Shielder!"

The person she was calling out to, the younger brother presumably, failed to materialize, lost within the low visibility.

"Damn. If you wait, I can go look for him. His top speed is pretty slow, but he can save you the trouble of wading through water."

Jaune made his decision right there. "No need for that, please take Sundancer and go."

"What!? No!" Sundancer exclaimed.

"A bit of a walk isn't going to bother me when you need proper care. The sooner you get it, the happier I'd be," Jaune said, resolute. "I can find my own way out of here."

Sundancer looked like she wanted to argue, but the flier nodded in agreement and directed the forcefield to rise. Reluctantly, the girl settled down, though she shot him a glare.

"If you so much as catch a cold, I'll get really mad at you."

"I won't," he answered easily. "And I'm sor—no. What I mean is, thank you for going along with my recklessness all this while."

Dropping the glare, she giggled. "Is that what you'd call it? Well, I was glad to. I expected a lot of things heading into this fight, most of them bad." A blush. "Finding a friend wasn't one of them."

"Hehe, same here. We made a good team."

The healing supplies went onto the platform, set to one side. Looking at it, the four syringes that were left seemed woefully insufficient, so he bought one more pack of stimpaks just to be on the safe side, then addressed the flier.

"If the injuries flare up, inject one for her, alright? The potions shouldn't be needed, but if she loses blood, get her to drink some."

"Understood. By the way, did you make these things? And that teleporting doohickey, too."

"Oh, man. I don't even know where to begin to explain."

I'm an alien from another universe and my new scroll is a magical device, a genie's lamp that grants wishes at a cost. To pay for it, I came here to plunder valuable booty. Which, I guess, makes me a pirate. Arrr.

Let's not say that.

"I think I recognize them," Sundancer interjected. "One's based on the Fallout games, isn't it? As for the bottles… were they from the Harry Potter books? I remember in one of the chapters they used potions that can recover a person's blood levels."

Whatever explanation he could have given died on his lips. Unable to muster a sound in his shock, Jaune's mouth flapped open and shut, all kinds of confused. Games and books? These were supposed to be items from different worlds.

"Is it tinkertech?" She asked.

"…It is exactly that. We can talk about it later, when you're safe and healthy." And when he had worked out how to best reveal his story, because simply telling the full, unvarnished truth right off the bat was not a winning premise to convince people of his sanity, doubly so when he's summoning make-believe things.

The forcefield floated higher than him now, and Sundancer craned her neck to peer down through the translucent material.

"You had better be okay when I see you again!" She called out.

Jaune waved to show that he heard, and watched the two of them ascend. Soon enough, they rose above the height of the buildings. The flying blonde checked on her passenger and, once satisfied she wouldn't fall off, zoomed through the sky with Sundancer in tow.

After she dropped out of sight, Jaune hung his head and allowed himself to groan. He had put on a blasé attitude in front of Sundancer, but slogging across a flooded city was going to suck no matter which way he cut it.

"Alright, no point standing around."

The fight was a bust. The search for items to sell, ditto barring a measly 100-Point knife. Still, he can look forward to a warm bed and, perhaps, a hot meal before deciding where to go from here. There's a new clue to investigate, the 'tinkertech' that Sundancer mentioned. Were they objects he could buy? If yes… well, what do you know, he might see some money coming his way at a very opportune time so long as the flying hero did as she claimed.

Of course, that scenario depended on Leviathan dying or retreating. Curious to know the result, he put following Sundancer on hold to detour down the street. Eyes peeled for danger moving near him, Jaune skulked along the side of the buildings, ready to duck inside at the first sign of a giant water monster. Here and there, he identified the shapes of people behind cover or flying in the air, including the boy referred to as Shielder high up and Skitter hunkered down next to a car. They were all facing the same direction, and he joined them to observe how the battle was faring.

It yet continued.

On a long stretch of the road, a one-on-one duel raged on, ringed by a smattering of heroes and villains who stayed far back from the melee.

Seething animosity aside, Jaune admitted that Armsmaster at least displayed the skill to back up his position as a superhero. Alone, he was fighting toe to toe with Leviathan in close quarters, a prospect that caused Jaune to blanch; he barely survived his own encounter, this guy made it look easy.

The blue armored figure moved and attacked as a whirlwind, and he somehow dual-wielded—what was with total bastards that Jaune hated and dual-wielding? That's two for two—long halberds with the technique of a top class Huntsman; one was a high-tech marvel of engineering, the other a simple steel pole topped by a blade bearing a strange blurring effect. Together, those weapons seemed capable of anything, from vaporizing the afterimages Leviathan summoned with a purple flame, to freezing a wave in time, to leaving deep gouges on its form.

A low cut that tore into one of the massive legs transitioned to a dodge as the monster retaliated with a tail swipe, whereupon Armsmaster employed Leviathan's knee as a springboard to leap high and carve a line on its chest.

A matador twirl that outperformed Jaune's best attempt created an opening for him to score a long furrow on its side, with one of Leviathan's full-body afterimage neatly evaded through the use of a grappling hook that sprang from the head of a halberd.

Whatever Leviathan tried, Armsmaster had an answer. No matter how it struggled, he never relented on the offensive.

But…the decisive victory this hero craved, it remained ever out of reach.

Jaune would even say that it was slipping out of the man's fingers, his gradually-widening and horrified eyes spotting the many ways that Leviathan, bleeding from multiple new (and sizable) wounds, was improving with each passing second.

He's wrong, right? He has to be wrong.

Yet, when exhausted limps now moved in crisp motions, when a tail that should have been cut to the bone rendered a concrete wall into a fine dust, when waist-height waves stopped being waist-height and expanded to be ten feet high? The reality became impossible to deny. Leviathan was fighting better. Much better.

And it just so happened to occur after Sundancer had been taken far, far away.

Oh dear. The thing played possum, didn't it?

By the look on his face, Armsmaster arrived at the same conclusion. The quips and declarations, the pageantry he hammed up, ceased in lieu of a hard-set grimace. Actions grew, if not frantic, then rushed.

The grappling hook relocated him at the base of the tail, and the man worked his arms in a frenzy to hack at Leviathan. Shallow chips and pieces rained off the beast. The tail rose, he fired the hook. Landing front and center, he stabbed upward once then spun to avoid a set of water claws, rushing in right after to press his assault. He committed, and the battle shifted to a static contest of attrition, with him relying on his training to evade rather than the various gadgets.

Trying to match it on physical attributes? That's a dumb move, Jaune judged. Meaning it's a trap. If it were him pulling that stunt, he'd be doing it to—

A wave swelled behind Leviathan, wide and curved to aim inward.

Aha. A big, telegraphed finisher has been baited.

The wave slammed through Leviathan, wrapping on either side and closing in a pincer move to cut off the routes of retreat for Armsmaster.

Who, simply, touched a button. The high-tech halberd launched its grappling hook straight at the wave, and locked it in a temporal effect identical to the power of Clockblocker, snaring the arms and legs in the process.

Loathing the man as he did, Jaune still found himself leaning forward, watching in rapt attention for what will surely follow. The deciding blow.

Armsmaster took two steps, then leapt. The bound wave became his footholds, letting him ascend to the top of Leviathan. One leg on a shoulder, the other on its head, he brandished the remaining halberd high.

"The end, monster."

He granted his foe a last derisive sneer before driving the weapon into Leviathan's neck, the blade sinking deep like a knife through butter.

Then, like a knife through flesh.

And finally, like a knife through stone. The triumphant gleam Armsmaster had revealed in anticipation of victory vanished from his face. In its place, an expression of utmost disbelief.

"H-how? My nanothorn can cut anything!"

That one moment of distraction would cost him.

The temporal effect collapsed. The wave crashed onto the street in a massive boom. Leviathan's arm, now freed, shot up in a blur, sharp claws slamming shut to trap the blue suit of armor in a tight grip.

Leviathan pulled its prey, halberd and all, off its shoulder and lowered him until they were face to face. Not surrendering, Armsmaster swung his weapon, attempting to slice at the arm holding him. The long pole worked against his purpose, unable to catch the correct angle. Still, ever tenacious, the man continued his struggle.

The hand began to squeeze.

At first, it elicited a mere grunt, discomfort endured as Armsmaster focused on breaking free of the grip. That did not last long. Leviathan increased the pressure. The expression of grim determination dissolved into a rictus of agony as the armor pieces grinded together, servos whining in protest. A spark ran along one arm and the halberd, the last hope of Armsmaster to escape, slipped from his fingers. It hit the water with a splash.

And that was that. Caught in the clutches of the monster, bereft of his beloved weapon, Armsmaster faced his doom.

Jaune knew he should feel something. Sadness for a life ending, perhaps, or respect for a fellow warrior. If not, since he held little sympathy and zero admiration for the man, then at least let there be a bout of tenderhearted understanding upon witnessing such an awful way to go. After all, members of the same species, by nature, tend to experience an aversion to seeing a similar creature get hurt.

This sensation of bubbling glee was probably not the correct emotion. A definite no, in fact. But, dammit, the guy stole Sundancer's victory and then he fumbled it!

Sort of like how he dropped that halberd, really.

Jaune was going to feel so ashamed for that thought later, maybe, but right now? Pure catharsis. Absolute zen. He was of half a mind to just leave the man there and walk off into the sunset. Or, well, the gray patch of sky where a sunset should be.

Someone else showed a different reaction.

Skitter, the bug controller, scrambled out of hiding to head towards the towering beast and the trapped hero. Her hands plunged into the frigid water, and came out hefting the halberd in an amateurish grip. She winded the weapon back in (poor) imitation of how Armsmaster did it, losing her balance as she failed to account for the heavy weight at the top, and brought it down on Leviathan's arm. She almost missed, and the best she managed to accomplish was clipping it on the skin.

Undeterred, or unaware of her atrocious form, she tried again. This time the blade struck true, if superficial. The rain-soaked pole also promptly slid out of her grasp to fall on a collision course with her skull. Jaune would have slapped a hand over his eyes in exasperation at this travesty of martial skill, if he wasn't busy catching the weapon before the razor-sharp head of it brained the fool.

His slash, although not masterful by any means, accommodated basic principles of weapon handling. The halberd cut into the wrist and sheared about two inches past the skin. Leviathan gave no indication it had noticed.

Very well, have at thee.

Jaune proceeded to rain down blow after blow upon Leviathan, striving to sever the limb holding Armsmaster. Clouds of bugs, heaving under the weight of water, alighted on the monster to bite and sting. Another person, armed with a sword-like drill, drove it home below the base of the tail and activated the spinning function. In a surreal development, giant stuffed animals made their appearance, a trio marching abreast. They slammed into Leviathan's sides, the adorable creatures trying to wrestle it to the ground. More figures darted in to strike with blades and fists, or stayed further back and peppered the head with lasers and bullets.

A low, keening wail escaped through the gritted teeth of Armsmaster as the crushing force passed the threshold he could tolerate. It signaled a dwindling time limit for the would-be rescuers, and they ignored the protests of their tired limbs to eke out every bit of effort. Jaune swung with reckless abandon, by this point having carved the forearm down to half its thickness—strangely, no further. The insects poured into the injuries that crisscrossed the beast, attacking from the inside; the amount of bee venom used could have killed a whale. The sword-drill reduced itself to a dulled, smoking ruin. The ground shook with the strength exerted by the stuffed animals punching and kicking.

To no avail.

Dawning horror flashed across Armsmaster's face before—*crack!*—it slackened to blankness.

And that was that. The end, for true this time.

Armsmaster deceased, CC-7.​

Why was only his armband working?

Jaune shunted the question to the back of his mind, because he had a bigger problem looming over his head. Namely, Leviathan looking down at the buffet clustered around its legs.

Jaune tried stabbing it with the halberd one more time. It didn't do jack.

Leviathan lifted both arms, and that did something. A rumble passed under the street. Cracks formed as the noise grew louder. With a bang, a huge concrete pipe broke the road surface. From it, water spewed forth to construct a wave half again the usual size.

"Where the heck did that come from?" Jaune blurted, unable to fathom a giant water hose just popping up out of nowhere.

"It's the storm sewers," someone whispered, voice tinged by horrified realization.

Well, now he knew, and they do say knowing was half the battle.

Jaune sure wished someone would tell him the other half, too, because he's racking his brain and coming up with a whole lot of nothing to counter this. Well, that's not right. There's one.

In a calm, steady voice that surprised even him, Jaune said, "Can anyone here make a barrier to withstand that?"

Yup, that was his last ditch plan. Asking for a miracle.

"H-here."

Huh. What do you know?

"GATHER UP!" He shouted, leaping to land next to the blond boy—Shielder, the older sibling had called him.

Not all of them made it in before the shields went up and the wave hit. He could only hope those guys survived. It stopped mattering a second later, though, because Leviathan lashed out with its tail. The barrier shattered under the blow and those within were swept away to join the rest.

For half a minute or so, water became his world. Hands clamped over mouth and nose, Jaune held on to the one shallow breath he managed to catch as he was thrown against the ground, the cars, the building, and other people. Attempts to grab on inevitably resulted in the water prying his fingers from the handholds. The current was too strong to resist for long. His Aura flickered time and time again as it endured the barrage of impacts. That didn't worry him overmuch; he had Aura for days. What scared him was the possibility of drowning, it posing as one of the few real dangers to Huntsmen. Aura or no, people needed to breathe.

The water ebbed just as his lungs burned for air. The first breath he took ended with a relieved sob.

Rising on shaky legs, he searched for Leviathan, expecting an imminent attack. It was gone. For good? No, that was a vain hope. It had, in all likelihood, exited the stage to go and wreak havoc elsewhere in the city.

In its wake, a stillness but for the rain, and bodies in the water.

Then, movement.

A stirring here. A power effect there. Not everyone had passed.

Stuffed animals, waterlogged, returned to their feet and hurried around to check for survivors. Jaune joined them in the task.

The sword-drill thing was impaled in a wall; they couldn't find the owner. A yellow-suited woman needed to be extricated from under a car. He awoke a high-tech power armor by poking it, though the person inside skated off on their waterski system instead of helping. That wasn't the last hero or villain to bail.

Jaune came across Shielder crawling out of a muck-filled collapsed portion of the road, and helped to pull the boy free. As he was making sure the guy could stand on his own, a squishy-soft paw tapped his shoulder. It was one of the stuffed animals, and the lion pointed with the other arm to its brethren, a pig waving for their attention from further down. It stood over a dark shape, which on closer inspection was revealed to be Skitter. Her visible injuries were… extensive, to put it mildly.

"P-please…Please help me…" Her voice was a weak murmur. The gash on her neck caused a watery gurgle with each breath she took, and a whistling pitch to her words. "I don't want to die… please…"

She wore a dark, scary costume and a creepy bug helmet, and displayed an off-putting mannerism to boot. His encounter with her left him a sneaking suspicion that she was some insectile creature. A thing unlike a person.

But that plaintive cry beneath the mask, it sounded all too human. Before he knew it, the scroll was already out of his pocket and opened to the Marketplace. Any regrets of losing precious Points turned moot as familiar packages materialized from thin air, and he administered the same mix of stimpaks and Blood-Replenishing Potions that had saved Sundancer's life.

Things went different, here. The neck injury healed, as did the other ones Jaune can see, but her breathing persisted as rasps and wheezes. The voice begging for help steadily grew smaller. Lifting the mask exposed a flowing nosebleed. No amount of otherworld medicine had staunched it.

Jaune and Shielder shared a glance, neither wanting to pin a diagnosis on the girl. The terms 'internal trauma' played through their minds.

"Can you evac her?" Jaune asked Shielder.

The boy didn't respond, the sight of him said it all. Wan and staggering, he stood upright by clinging on to a stuffed animal, and that was after receiving a stimpak injection himself to mitigate the hardest wounds. The sister mentioned that his ability to fly lacked speed at the best of times. These were not the best of times.

Armbands? Fried. Medicine? Futile. Transport? Grounded.

"… help…please…" Delirious, and likely unaware of the situation around her, Skitter continued to beg.

"I…"

Can't, Jaune hated to say.

A person on death's door. Another capable of flight. And him.

All the elements as before. More of the same. Only, it got worse.

What a hell he has walked into. What a fucked up world. It felt as if this place wanted him to break.

Kneeling down in the water, he took the dying girl's hand. It was the last thing he knew to do, a lesson learned in Beacon when he asked of his professor a certain question. What to do for the people they cannot save.

Offer kind words in their last moments, was the answer.

"You—"

Have done well? Can rest now? Their youth made it worse; her and Shielder both. They were younger than him. Younger than Ruby, even. This shouldn't have been a battle they fought or the place her life ended, and coming up with something to say that would make it okay proved an impossible challenge.

The kid was crying now, tears and snot mixing with raindrops as she came to understand why a person would be there to hold her hand but not save her. And to that scared girl for whom nothing else can be done, who had nothing in her future, with nothing left, he mustered the strength to try again. She deserved kindness, at least.

But as he aligned the weak, meaningless sentiments together in his mind, lips ready to shape the words he'd say out loud, a memory stirred.

There once was an injured boy, way back when. His soon-to-be partner healed him with but a chant and an indomitable will.

It's a different universe, but perhaps even here one might find the inextinguishable soul yearning to awaken.

"I am going to try… something." The declaration began slow and unsure, picking up momentum as he warmed to the idea. "Something I've no idea will pan out or not, mind you, but since I've just discovered that I possessed a startling lack of talent in comforting last words, it's worth a shot. If you disagree, save it for afterward." Despite the condition he was in, Shielder managed a snicker at that. It attracted Jaune's notice. "Know what? You get over here, too. Pyrrha never mentioned there being a limit on this."

She never told him the particulars of this procedure, either, so he'd have to proceed based on the feel of his own experience. Which was fine. That's how the best chefs do it.

For the first step, he remembered her putting a hand on his cheek. Skitter's face was a mess of cuts and bruises, but he found a spot at the base of her jaw that he can touch without inflicting pain. His other hand reached out to Shielder. A slight misjudgment of distance led to him slapping the hero on the mouth. Deeming it workable, he shrugged and moved on.

Pyrrha had glowed on that day in the forest. He had learned what that meant after the fact; she was drawing on her Aura. Hers then were a red hue, his here shined with a white light. It lit up the immediate area, shining as a beacon.

Lastly, Pyrrha somehow also made him glowy. That was the crucial part he's having trouble grasping. As he understood it, she had Aura while he did not. Then, she had less Aura while he had some. Logic follows that she shoved her Aura over to his side. Was it a simple matter of doing, or had the poem she chanted jumpstart the process? He's undecided.

Nothing was stopping him from using both.

His eyes closed shut, looking inward to hunt for that elusive well of energy called Aura. Its instinctive protection was dead easy to trigger, but conscious manipulation required a delicate touch, a person in tune with their inner self. Or, you can just really, really, really want to. So went the Ren/Nora lecture on Aura control, and he's opting for the explanation given by the latter at the moment. In a turn of events that would make Ren despair, Jaune did manage to tease out a spark, and willed it forward.

The mote of Aura did not split, yet it still ran down the two different paths, one leading to Skitter, the other to Shielder. A puzzling conundrum.

The Aura settled in his palms, and he experienced the odd feeling of it bouncing off a wall. Jaune compelled the energy to break past this obstacle.

Alright, now, how did the unlocking chant go? Ah, yes. With great solemnity, he thus spoke.

"For it is in passing that we achieve immorality."

Damn. He messed up on the wording. No matter, press on!

"Through this, we become a something something of glory to rise to the top."

It's close enough! He brought his Aura to bear, sending it along to the two teens.

"Infinity in distance and…and beyond when dead? *whisper* whatever, I'll just use more Aura to compensate *whisper* I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect ye."

Boom! And that's the gist of it. He managed to hit the broad strokes, by his reckoning. Jaune opened his eyes and, to prove his point, saw the telltale radiance of Aura not his own.

Shielder looked down at himself in wonder, amazed by the shield his powers had not conjured yet still safeguarding his form. Going into this ritual, Jaune expected to see blue, white, or maybe gold for the blond hair. The kid's Aura was actually orange. Surprising, but the boy in question seemed less concerned about it, reveling in his recovering energy as he took a little hop and was able to float inches atop the water, albeit with a tired and shaky bobble to his flight.

As for Skitter… Jaune whooped in delight, for the girl's breathing had evened out, expression smoothing into serenity instead of the earlier agonized torment. Her Aura appeared as the muddy brown of earth, a new hue Jaune has yet to witness. Teenage Huntress magazine (which somebody dropped in the library and he and Ren definitely did not read cover to cover, only skimming the pages when the wind turned them) claimed that the colors signified the defining character trait of a person. What did Skitter's symbolize? The article devoted most of the pages to how red meant passion and pink was a sign of an ardent heart, and they sort of neglected to include shades of brown, beige, gray, and other less exciting colors.

Whatever. The important thing was that he succeeded in unlocking a person's Aura. Proof of concept was viable, and when he meets back up with Sundancer, he'll activate hers without delay. Dammit, if he had thought of it before…no, that was hindsight talking. It's no use dwelling on the 'could have beens'.

A groan drew him out of his thoughts. It came from Skitter. Jaune, Shielder, and the stuffed animals leaned over as a group to look at the girl waking up. Her eyes fluttered open to peer up at Jaune. They widened in horror.

"Pana—!" A cry of utmost fear, cut short as her vision cleared. "No, wait, you're not her…are you— *cough, cough!* —are you with New Wave?"

"You know, that's the second time someone asked me that today," Jaune said. "Glad to see you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Uhhh. Good. But bad. But good? Am I on drugs?"

Shielder chimed in. "Ditto. What was that?"

Before Jaune could answer, Skitter made a strange, spasming motion.

"I-I can't get up!"

Jaune winced. "Ooh, not good. That probably means something's still wonky, then. Aura does a lot, but there are issues it can't fix."

"Aura?"

"The manifestation of your soul. It empowers you. Heals you. And gives you a Semblance." Catching the question about to be asked by the two, he preempted them. "A Semblance is like a superpower."

Simultaneously, Skitter and Shielder shouted, latching on to the last point.

"I have a second power!?" / "You can grant powers!?"

They were completely floored by his statement. Meaning, what he did might not be a common occurrence. Jaune deflected at speed.

"I live out in the sticks. It's a thing there. For realsies."

Just a simple farmboy, nothing to see here. They seemed disbelieving of his lie.

"Look, there is a time and place for a discussion about my abilities. It's not in the middle of a typhoon with a roaming Leviathan added to the mix." Skitter and Shielder shivered at the mention of the monster's name. Jaune pointed at the former. "You need medical attention, and quickly."

The girl, who was all kinds of messed up on the inside, actually hesitated, saying, "But, if Leviathan is still in the city, then we can't stand by and do nothing! I have to fight it!"

She's nuts. Jaune very carefully did not say that.

Taking on a gentler tone, he urged her, "Leave it for others to worry about. You've done your part. More than your part. What's left for you is to rest and recuperate."

"But—!"

"And if that's not enough for you, then I'd add a reminder that you literally cannot stand up to anything at the moment. No matter what, they'll have to put you on a hospital bed. Make it easy on yourself and go with it." Jaune gave himself a mental pat on the back as the girl deflated. Seriously, she's nuts!

"I'm starting to think you are with New Wave," Shielder interrupted. "You sound like mom and dad."

"Is he really not? It's just—"

"Nope." The boy addressed the girl. "Never met him before in my life, but I get what you mean. No mask, Panacea colors, can heal and form a personal forcefield on his skin. He even has blond hair like us. The similarities are uncanny."

The siblings were part of New Wave. He had suspected, what with the unmasked faces.

"It's a total coincidence," Jaune dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I can't shoot lasers like your sister can."

Shielder perked up. "Wait, have you seen my sister? Do you know where she is?"

"Yeah? She should be with Panacea right now, along with a friend of mine," Jaune answered, and noticed the other boy fidgeting. "What's up?"

"Um. I think- that is, since I'm hurt, too, and you said we shouldn't fight, I want to go to her!" After blurting that out in a rush, he flushed red and hung his head as if he expected a reprimand. Jaune rolled his eyes. After what the kid's been through, making up an excuse to avoid Leviathan and wanting to run to the safety of his family were the normal things to come out of a person's mouth. He'd have questioned Shielder's mental state if he insisted on fighting. Like someone.

"Good idea. Take Skitter with you."

Shielder nodded, grateful. Skitter, far more grudging, looked like she would argue. A flat stare conveyed his message. She backed down, sulking.

Jaune added. "Do me a favor, though. Check up on my friend for me once you're there. See if she's alright. She goes by Sundancer."

"No problem, I'll do that first thing after I drop Skitter with Panacea. But what will you be doing?"

"I'm headed that way on foot." He crossed his arms in an 'X' when they suggested traveling as a group, "Do you have the energy to carry two people? No? Fly ahead, then, and get yourselves seen to. Remember, make sure Sundancer is being looked after. Tell her I'll be by in a bit."

And, oh boy, was he going to be in trouble with her for jumping into a second fight with Leviathan the moment she turned her back. Whoops.

A concord reached, they proceeded with moving Skitter. Worried of aggravating the unseen injuries, Jaune directed Shielder to whip up a forcefield and press it flat to the ground under the water, after which they shifted her a little at a time to get her on. Once there, the platform lifted in a slow, labored ascent. Shielder drifted beside it, lingering exhaustion shown by his erratic flight path.

"Think you can do this?" Jaune asked, concerned. The younger boy answered with a weak thumbs-up.

"I'll make it. Somehow." He turned to go, but hesitated and spun back around. "Okay, I have to ask. Those things you were saying when you gave us our 'aura', what did they mean? Because I didn't understand most of it."

Jaune hid his panic, pasting on his best 'enigmatic smile' a la Ozpin. "That is natural. I touched on many profound subjects in that speech, and it would take you a lifetime to comprehend its truths."

When he returns to Remnant, he's making Pyrrha write the damn words down for him to memorize. Unlocking someone's Aura should not be this embarrassing.

"That doesn't—"

"Oh, get out of here already! There's a girl hurt; be her hero and take her to the medics!" Waving his hands, he shooed them off.

Fortunately, the probing questions ceased, and he was able to split from Skitter and Shielder without further ado. After bidding farewell to the stuffed animals heading for their own destination, Jaune waded over the sidewalks in the direction he recalled the elder sister—Laserdream, Shielder had told him—flying towards prior to the recent debacle.

Along the way, he caught sight of glints in the water, thinking nothing much of it at first. Barely a block down, his pace slowed, then paused altogether. A closer inspection revealed the shapes submerged below the surface.

Oh. This was what the scroll meant by 'loot'. There sure were a lot, exactly as advertised.

-o-​

Jaune was making good time, for all that he clanked with every step. The landmarks guided him down familiar roads to put him on a long straightaway leading to his destination. It won't be much further—twenty minutes slogging through water at the most—until he arrives at the portal.

Not to the field hospital, though that remained his ultimate goal. He just had to take a small detour first in order to offload the pile of 'loot' that filled his arms.

A more honest description would be 'dead people's belongings'.

In normal, non-apocalyptic scenarios, he would hold no truck with such a distasteful thing as graverobbing. In a city besieged by Leviathan, and behind that the ever-looming threat of Vale and Beacon falling to the Grimm, he can learn to compromise. Battlefield acquisitions, let's call it, and it paved the foundation for the idea bouncing around in his head.

Weapons, armors, and gadgets. A knife composed from blood, a halberd that can cut things well, a laser gun, a pair of electrified gauntlets, a hardy prismatic cloak, a device that projected illusory disguises, and many other treasures of note; the cannonblade he admired counted among them. Apart, the majority of the items were nothing to rave over. Put together, they added up to ten thousand and some hundreds of Points by his mental calculations. Points aplenty to trade for an item or [Skill] of decent value, which he can use to slap Leviathan out of Brockton Bay or knock it down for good, depending.

If this world alone cannot beat the monster—risking Sundancer's life and limbs notwithstanding—then the simple solution afforded him was to go outside of it and bring back fantastical powers to even things up. And in the event Sundancer does return to the battle as their silver bullet, he'd want to provide her with better defenses and recovery options than the slapdash measures he was currently running with. Stimpaks and blood infusions did not a healer make.

The trek became easier as he moved out of the city center. The area they fought Leviathan in had transformed into a devastated wasteland of broken buildings, sinkholes, and thigh-deep water to waylay him. After cutting a parallel line to the coast for about ten minutes, he was navigating inland through neighborhoods that had suffered only minor damage from the shin-high flood and heavy rain. It alleviated the strain on his flagging strength, allowing him to maintain a steady pace.

Purity down, BW-8. Shadow Stalker down, BW-8.​

Blinking in surprise, Jaune looked for signs of an armband. The search didn't take long. A group of them floated towards him, six or seven strips of cloth borne on the water surface and pulled by the currents. There were no bodies littering the road; the owners of these devices must have fled. The synthetic voice of a woman blared from each armband, and they merged together to resound across the avenue.

Evacuation Notice for BW-8. Repeat, evacuate BW-8 immediately.​

The lack of tall buildings in this neighborhood granted him a stellar view as a number of high-rises began to collapse, accompanied by creaks and groans and soon an almighty crash. He stood and gaped in horror.

Smoke, dust, they bloomed in a cloud shooting for the sky, tamped down by the rain. Once it cleared, an entire section of the city skyline was gone.

Alexandria deceased, BW-8.​

A lengthy silence ensued following the announcement, one without a single update on the casualties. Not long after, Jaune spotted colorful figures flying in the sky, tracing routes starting from the direction of the city center. They sped past him overhead on a course away from the city.

Unnerved, he leaned down and, carefully so as to not drop his harvest, hooked one of the armbands around his index finger. He resumed the trip while keeping his ears open for the next update.

Two blocks on and it hadn't made a peep. Instead, activities in his surroundings provided him a clue of the fallout. Pausing at intersections, he would catch the occasional glimpses of masked figures emerging from alleys and streets, running full-tilt for the horizon. Their undignified scamper spoke volumes.

The name Alexandria might mean nothing to him, but it was the name to break the final threads of morale. The battle was lost, or near enough.

Not everybody ran. It sounded a lot better than the reality. Villains—for surely these could never be the heroes, despite the heroic cut of some of their costumes—carried out excursions at times to enter places that intrigued them. Jewelry shops, most often. They would jauntily exit these buildings loaded down with valuables. Twice Jaune saw conflict occur among such opportunists. The first when one person stumbled upon another, and thought to relieve the latter of their burden. A second altercation was an argument between accomplices that devolved to a brawl after the division of spoils failed to suit all tastes.

People who an hour ago stood on the same line, how quickly they turned on each other.

He had beheld the heights of heroism in this universe. In his optimism, the actions of what he thought to be the few bad eggs were dismissed as aberrant. Now, block after block, he witnessed scenes of selfishness and greed, jackals descending on those weaker to enrich themselves. Jaune marched on, morose. In his mind, a mantra.

Sell, buy, save the day.

Sell, buy, save the day.

Sell, buy, save the day. He sang it to himself, a goal to focus on. And finally, but finally, his journey entered the home stretch.

The street he traveled upon opened up to a large, empty clearing hemmed in by four different roads with side avenues galore. At the far end, past one of the roads, lay a row of shops and homes. Taking a left up there to exit the clearing and he'd see the flickering neon sign of a convenience store. There's a looted electronics store visible from here. A couple buildings over, the mouth of an alleyway sat.

Jaune stepped out into the open space, and noticed that he wasn't alone.

A fair distance to his right, a young woman screeched to a stop, having entered from one of the other streets. Where he was located at a corner of the clearing, her position drew a direct line into the alley.

Rain plastered her dark blond hair to her back. On her face, a domino mask. The skintight outfit bestowed scant protection in this storm, water soaking into the purple-and-black fabric.

The costume was torn, here and there. She bore wounds, here and there. What bothered him was her wide-eyed stare.

She had startled after spotting him, and the mild surprise near instantly switched to a look of bewilderment as if she had never seen a human in her life. Unsure of what the problem was, then recalling his appearance—that here was a guy holding onto an armory's worth of weaponry—he wiggled the fingers on one hand to wave in a show of peaceful intent. Her expression changed not one iota.

He stared, she stared. They stood still in the rain.

Aaalrighty, then? Whatever's happening was clearly a her issue, and he had a task to complete, so he'll just carry on. Jaune turned his attention towards the alleyway.

She mirrored the motion.

Doing a double-take, Jaune whirled to face the girl. Had he imagined—no, she really was staring deep into the alley, a nondescript and uninteresting gap in the brick wall except for the portal to another universe sitting in total darkness at the end. Her head swung back and forth, bouncing from there to him then back, appearing more baffled if that was even possible. Occasionally, she would wince, face pinching with effort for reasons unknown.

He took a step towards the alley.

She did, too.

He inched a little further.

She copied him, this time maintaining eye contact all the while. Though, one eye was twitching.

He stared, she stared. Confusion abounds. What was going on?

Their odd stalemate broke at the sound of a dull roaring, like the rumbles of thunder or the hard rapping of knuckles on a door. They both spun around as one.

Distance was relative. Meaning, distance was a state of mind. Up until this moment, Jaune believed he had traveled far from the coast, an illusion cast by his arduous (yet slow) progress through submerged roads.

One look at the towering ice wall, and the spray of water shooting over the top, and in his mind the distance between him and the sea shrank down from 'safely out of harm's way' to 'major flood risks, do not enter'. He assuaged his unease by noting that the sound of waves impacting on ice reverberated across the entire length of the wall, concentrating on no particular point and thus diffused in strength. That reassurance lost some persuasiveness when the first crack appeared. It was near the far side of the barrier, however, so he reined in his panic even as water blasted a gaping hole there. He thanked his lucky stars when a second gap formed to dump water down on the area where he fought Leviathan, which he had vacated less than half an hour ago.

And then a last breach occurred. This one was a big one. It originated at the point closest to him.

Tidal waves incoming, multiple zones at risk. Evacuate red areas immediately.​

Jaune checked the map on the armband, still hooked on his finger. The entire thing was colored red.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. He ran.

Across the empty lot, Jaune blazed a trail, hardly thinking of where to put his feet only that it led him closer to the portal. Beneath him, a shaking. Behind him, a roaring. To tarry was to drown. He did not dare look back.

His right leg sank down in a hidden divot. He slammed his left hard against the ground to compensate, quickly regaining balance and form to race on. Heart thundering at the realization that a simple pothole could spell his doom, Jaune begged Lady Luck to stop dunking on him already and leave him be. Whether the prayer was heard or not, he couldn't tell, but his subsequent footfalls landed on even ground. Still, he knew better than to tempt the cruel bitch by celebrating.

A car rested ahead, necessitating avoidance. Rather than wasting precious seconds to circle around, he slid over the hood, pile of loot and all. Something dropped out, making a splash as it hit the water. He ignored the pang of regret to abandon the item. Considering there's more than ten thousand Points nestled in his arms, he can spare to lose one or two. The sound of the approaching tidal wave clinched the decision. It sounded a ways off, but the rising volume served as proof of the armband's warning. That tsunami was headed here.

Reaching the other side of the clearing in record time, Jaune proceeded to cross the road without delay, dodging debris floating by with near prescient intuition. He got to around the middle of the avenue, and it's there that the errant thought struck him.

Where was the other person? He chanced a look.

Whatever her superpower, physical prowess it was not, Luck, neither.

His running was running; he had zoomed over the land on speedy feet. Charged up with adrenaline, the weight he carried felt light as feathers. In contrast, hers was a stumbling jog, poor athleticism leading to her arms windmilling for balance whenever she slips, and it's often that she did. Some sort of injury was at play, as seen in the swaying gait and the head being held in hands. Her narrowed eyes struggled to see…something. She had barely traversed past the midpoint.

Jaune performed a quick eyeball calculation. She's too slow to make it. The wave was too fast, too near.

Somehow, someway, even though she had not turned her head to see for herself, the girl also figured out the truth. Her expression transformed into that of pure, stricken terror.

Then, suddenly, the fear drained from her face. Her pace lagged, soon coming to a complete stop altogether. With shoulders slumped, a sigh followed.

Wait, was she—?

A deep breath helped her to regain composure. Trembling hands clenched and unclenched until she moved them down to place on either hips. Her eyes caught his for a brief moment, before they closed.

She was.

Her expression said it best. Serene, but for the slight quaver to her lips. Acceptance, despite being afraid. She has grasped the foregone conclusion. Rather than wailing or cursing her unfair fate, she chose to let it be.

The wave rushed onward. This close, it deafened all other sounds. The land ahead of it quaked; walls and roofs crumbled as it arrived. In the churning, roiling motion that uprooted trees and swept buildings along in the water's wake, one could so easily ascribe a sentience to the boundless destruction, imagining that the tsunami held an unabating rage for all that laid in its path. Where it touched, nothing remained but ruins.

Before that… before the coming end, the girl raised her head to face the sky, and she showed the world a wide, toothy grin. Because, sometimes, you couldn't do anything else.

The wave rolled towards her, three city blocks off. Two blocks. One.

And Jaune was beside her, scooping the girl into his empty arms, running back the way he came.

He rushed through a field of strewn treasures. A red crystal knife shimmered as it laid sunken beneath the water. An unnaturally sharp halberd had embedded itself deep in the road. A beautiful cloak floated down the street. A device had malfunctioned from hitting the ground and now spat out holograms at random. The cannonblade that had so enamored him, he no longer paid it any mind.

A face stared up at him in blank astonishment, unable to fathom what he did. Honestly, neither could he.

He had a mission with the fate of Vale on the line. Another, of Brockton Bay. For their sake he must survive. To succeed, he should be prepared to do anything, even if it involves killing and stealing. He needed to harden his heart.

All the people of his home put on a scale against this one life. All the people of Brockton Bay against her. Either should have been obvious in their answer, no hard mathematics required. They mattered more.

The man who can understand that was the man these worlds called for, a true protagonist who's cold and logical, able to control the situation with his piercing intellect and create plans that ran several steps ahead of everyone else. Such a man always knew the optimal route to attain his goal. A hero, for whom the right choices came easy.

It's too bad then, that he could not be that man. Just a student, a trainee of a Huntsman, who too often mistook what was easy for what was right. Logic and him never really got on, and he lacked the fortitude to be heartless.

The means of victory, ten thousand Points and change. It was the purpose of his journey to this place, and so close to the finish line, he tossed it all to the wayside for the tidal wave to take, exchanged for the chance to save a stranger.

Because, sometimes, you couldn't do anything else. Because these little souls, they mattered.

The crashing waters chased his heels. The dark alley loomed ahead. He darted inside.

The portal, detecting his presence, flared to life. A hundred colors swirled on the brick wall to light up his path. Almost there, he was almost there.

A swift, savage force swept out his legs. The tidal wave had caught him first.

Jaune curled around the bundle in his arms, tucking her head into the center of his chest. He tried to draw a breath. The tsunami slammed against his back, knocking out the air in his lungs. The world plunged into darkness as water engulfed him on all sides.

Up was down, down was up. The current slammed him on the concrete, grabbed him and tossed him at a wall. He cracked his head on the bricks. Feeling himself pushed forward, afraid the person he held would take the impact, he kicked out with a leg. Ramrod straight, it struck a hard surface head on to send pain shooting up the entire length, bones rattling. An object borne by the wave—sharp, unnaturally so—sliced him on the hip to elicit a cry, a mistake as seawater tried to rush in. He forced himself to spit it out, his lungs screaming at him that he needed to breathe in something, anything. Stubbornly, and not wishing to die, he fought the instinct and pressed his mouth shut even as pain bloomed from within.

And then, with a myriad of colors filling his vision, he was out. Out of the water. Out of the universe. Emerging inside a gray room.

Halfway through, he felt a strain on his arms, like he was pulling a massive weight with him instead of a girl. The gateway he was stuck in shook and flickered ominously, until he wondered if it was going to throw him back to drown. To his great relief, the portal, accompanied by the sensation of a rubber band snapping, asserted itself and spat the both of them across the room.

He twisted to take the impact on his back, hit the wall with a boom to rattle the room, and crashed to the ground on his rear. Dizzy and nauseous, he inhaled great gulps of air. Panic spiked when he looked down and saw that the girl's eyes were closed. It was followed by relief at the sound of her breathing. She was unconscious, but alive.

He was alive, too, in a dry room with all the water blocked on the other side. Laughter bubbled up in his chest, released as he threw back his head and let out a shout of elation.

Elation became horror as the portal began to shrink. Letting the girl roll to the floor, Jaune scrambled to his feet.

"Nonono!" Rushing headlong to the swirling circle, he put out a hand to stop it from closing, to push through, to—

His hand crashed against an invisible barrier, fingers twisting painfully. He slammed a fist on the same spot, a useless gesture.

"I still need to go back! I'm not done yet! STOP!" He cried to no avail. The portal was no longer acting as a gate, but a window growing smaller with each passing second. From a circle that can fit four people marching abreast, to the size of his dorm's door, to a handspan gap just above the alley's waterline.

His last glimpse of that universe, of Worm, was the scene of a golden figure far in the distance floating in midair and the embodiment of nature's wrath, Leviathan, perched atop a high-rise. A beam shot from the figure to descend upon the beast. Following it, the first rays of sunlight, so like hers, broke through the clouds as the sky started to clear up, just as the portal winked out.

In utter silence, his shaking hands reached for the Company scroll. He opened the Jump Portal app just in time to see the textbox containing the details of the Instance disappear, leaving an empty page where a world should be.

So. That's the rule, is it? One time in. One time out. No second chance.

Jaune rocked on his heels, falling back to lay flat on the floor. He stared blankly at the white ceiling. Moisture swam in his eyes. There was so much left undone. He thought of his failures, of the many mistakes he committed, and the tears fell free.

But then, he thought about his successes. Events that would have unfolded differently had he not been there or people who might have died had he never met them. Things went wrong, yet things went right. On a face streaked with tears, a small smile formed.

Joy that he had gone, sorrow for what he had seen, regrets that he could not stay, he allowed the opposing feelings to dwell in his heart, crying and laughing as he recalled the scant few hours that felt like days. It was a hell of a time.

And after the tears have dried and the laughter has faded, he sat up once more, looking to where a portal had rested. There used to be a city there, just waiting on the other side. To it, he bade farewell.

Farewell to a world where superheroes die. Where they were vain, petty people ready to turn on each other, and the day was never won. A Grimmless land nevertheless filled with beasts of many stripes.

Farewell to a world where a villain fought for a city, and wished to never kill. Who took a chance on a stranger, and called him friend.

What a horrible world. If only he could go back again.

Jaune sighed.

Aah. Aaaah, it's such a shame. I was looking forward to dancing with her.

-o-​

In a quiet, gray room, a girl awoke from her slumber, eyelashes fluttering delicately. Sitting up, she beheld her savior, a device of some sort in his hand.

"Hey there, you. Feeling al–"

Her gaze flicked to the rest of the room, bouncing from wall to corner to window before settling back on him, eyes trailing up and down his form.

Such a pretty green, so went the thought in the boy's mind.

Then, those same green eyes proceeded to roll to the back of her head. She tipped backward and fell flat on the floor, unconscious.

Jaune stared, nonplussed. Was it something he said?

A shake of her arm, a tap on her cheek, he tried various ways to rouse her. A minute or two later saw her stirring. The first thing in her sight, was him.

"Are you o–"

Theeeere she goes again. Out like a light.

Is that her superpower? Fainting spells?

This could be a problem.

Universe: Worm (divergent). Location: Brockton Bay. Event: Leviathan.
Loot acquired: a narcoleptic girl
Instance Failed(?)​

---

Author's Notes: Jaune Arc accidently played the game right, embracing waifu over loot.

And that's the end of his first foray into Worm. Instances are meant to be short episodes, whereas Permanent Worlds will be the ones he can stick around for longer periods of time. It's too bad that he didn't know all the rules going in. And wasn't OP enough to hard-counter the grimdark. Hopefully he'll learn to pick a happier place on the next go.

Poor Narcolepsy Girl– I mean, Tattletale. She wakes up, sees the guy that makes no sense to her power, the device connected to every world, the room built by alien hands, the window view of what is clearly not her world, and her power of super observation goes haywire to result in the mental equivalent of a sledgehammer to the back of her head, thus knocking her out. Then she wakes up, sees the guy that…and so on, and so on.

For those who are unfamiliar with Worm, Lisa Wilborn aka Tattletale is the kind of innocent, demure, and supportive gal who will be ever so sweet to Jaune. Honest. Really, I'm not lying. Ask anyone who has read Worm, they'll tell you.

There's some good art of Sundancer and Tattletale by an artist called LinaLeeZ, if you would like a mental image.

As for that particular Worm AU, who knows how it'd go. Skitter with Aura and an extra superpower (and the ability to grant that to other people)? She'll probably use it as intended and not do anything drastic. Then again, she's nuts.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset. What follows a sunset?

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

In a sparsely-furnished room with gray walls and a white ceiling, a girl laid on a bed. It's a simple thing; built for one, not all that soft, missing both pillow and blanket. Water soaked the section of the mattress beneath the girl, she herself drenched from a dip in a typhoon. Those sleeping conditions practically begged for her to develop hypothermia, but lacking a change of clothes or even a towel in this place, the other option would have been for her to be stripped nude. And Jaune, shivering in his own wet outfit as he knelt beside the bed, certainly wasn't going to be taking anyone's shirt off in these circumstances.

Bodysuit, in her case. He used to think Huntress fashion was distracting. It had nothing superheroine costumes—or perhaps supervillainess, he didn't get the chance to ask yet. The ridiculousness of wearing a skin-tight one piece to battle registered in full when it ceased being an artist's portrayal on comic book pages and became an actual thing a person does in front of him. What kind of defenses did the bodysuit offer? It wouldn't even protect this girl from the cold air let alone a bullet, being so thin. Way too thin, and there were tears in it.

With a sigh, he cut off that thought to preempt another bout of temptation. Gaze turned towards the ceiling, he counted the seconds in his head as he waited for the girl to regain consciousness, one hand drumming a beat on the mattress, the other extended to place over her face.

After the latest repeat of his guest's fainting act, Jaune had conceived of a brilliant idea. Her looking around seemed to be the trigger for incapacitation, what with the frantic eye motions followed by a groan of pain and a trip to la-la land. So, he simply blocked her vision—and patted himself on the back, because this was the kind of go-getter, problem solving mindset that would get him hired by a company after his Huntsman days were over.

It continued being a brilliant idea right up until the girl awoke for the umpteenth time.

"H—" The beginning of a word was all he managed before she erupted in a violent struggle while screeching like a banshee, the natural response for a person when they came to in total darkness with a warm fleshy thing gripping their face. He's pretty sure someone filmed a horror movie featuring a scene like that. Mistakes were made.

The girl succeeded in slapping his arm aside, at which point she stiffened up and, forgetting the fight altogether, played out a now familiar scene. Green eyes panned from one side of the room to the other, roamed over Jaune's features, then rolled in their sockets.

"Too much…too much…" she mumbled, and clocked out. Again.

Jaune scratched his head, puzzled on the best way to proceed. He had been on the right track. By the sound of it, the girl was undergoing some sort of sensory overload that rendered her mind unable to comprehend…well, anything. Unless she was amenable to living life blindfolded, the problem extended beyond his level of expertise in neuroscience (none).

It's lucky for her that he can turn to his handy-dandy stolen scroll for aid. Slowly but surely, he was coming around to the idea of leaning on the most versatile tool at his disposal. Although, it'd be great if his broke-ass can keep up with his spending habit. How much credit did he have?

Let's see, there's the 400 Points spent on [Blank] , then 75 to save S-Sundancer…

A shaky breath, a pang of regret and hurt. Clamping down on that mess of emotions in a very healthy manner, he continued adding up.

…75 on Skitter and Shielder, plus another 50 just now to get a stimpak that took care of this girl's wounds, which amounted to 600 Points in total, with 400 available until he hit the credit limit. Not encouraging, since his first Jump required a [Skill] that cost those same number of Points. For a brief moment, he entertained the idea of making a second Jump to bolster his budget while letting the girl stay like this.

That notion ended with a whimper slipping out from between her lips, some residual pain bleeding through to torment her even in unconsciousness. It decided his course, and Jaune walked over to the table on the other side of the room, picking up the scroll and opening it to the Marketplace.

The Medical section, in a surprising twist, provided few good options. Medicines relating to the mind were more geared towards restoring or unlocking higher clarity of awareness than dampening one's faculties, which made sense now that he thought about it. If asked, the average person would classify a drug that left them dumb as a poison, not a cure. In this case, though, a pill that expanded the perception of the person swallowing it would only exacerbate the problem, and may well kill the girl. Ditto for an item called [Insight] , aptly-named and on sale for cheap, except the description for it went further to suggest that she'd die screaming. He flipped away to a different page after reading that particular tidbit.

The first possibility remotely beneficial he found was a superpower. [Soothe Mind] , which can be summed up as an instant college degree in psychology, letting him heal mental stress and trauma. The downside was that the girl would have to stay in his proximity so he could apply the ability on a continuous basis. Can somebody say addiction?

Also, much like a college degree, paying for it was beyond his means. All in all, it's not the solution he's looking for, but it hinted in the right direction. The remedy should exist independently of him. An object, not a power. A thing of permanence, instead of a consumable needing replenishment. Something like—he paused mid-swipe as a gadget caught his eye.


Mind Suppressant Collar


Yes! This was it! Opening up the detailed view, he read on.


Stop their pesky free will. Best waifu is dumb waifu.
Shuts down independent thoughts and places the subject in a highly suggestible state… Did we say highly? We mean completely. She'll do anything. Anything.
Points Cost: 10


No. This wasn't it. Yet again, the many universes at large have succeeded in scaring the hell out of him.

That was not to say it didn't tempt him. The impulse, a momentary thing, stirred alongside a stolen glance at the girl on the bed. He noted she looked rather pretty past the domino mask; not Huntress gorgeous, but in Vale would be quite cute. That was his hint to retreat at speed from the page, paranoia leading him to move his finger with care lest he misclicks. Seeing the cheap price tag and knowing from his purchase of [Blank] that the device possessed a sort of intelligence, he couldn't help but wonder if it had laid a deliberate trap for him.

Perhaps this was how the process started. He would buy one of these on a whim, and enjoy the high that went with controlling someone powerful and attractive. The store would then ply him with more and better ways to achieve that same rush, priming him to make decisions that result in him dominating all within sight during his travels until, down the line, it's Jax Darkphenix staring back in the mirror.

The next item further fueled his suspicions, being limited in scope across the board while bearing identical prices, gently reminding him that he could gain so much value by going with the superior model.


Inhibitor Collar
Universe: DC
Ancient Americans once said, "Everyone is equal."
Modern Amanda Waller says, "Challenge accepted."
Crafted with mundane yet unexplainable science, this marvel of plot device engineering cuts off access to abilities from a wide variety of sources including metahumanism, magic, and alien biologies. Sleek, stylish, and trendy, each collar comes outfitted with an electric shock function, gratis.
Points Cost: 10


Having gotten used to living with Aura, the idea that someone else can shut it off at will alarmed him quite a bit, and the less said about the 'freebie' tacked on at the end, the better. The accompanying keyfob stopped him from dismissing it straightaway.

Control. He can leave it in her hands. A prison was only a prison until the inmates held the keys. Giving it a tentative maybe, he moved on to try and find a better option.

Ten minutes and two fainting cycles later, he circled back to the inhibitor collar, with it still the single thing on his list because a 'good side' equivalent of the device had not been forthcoming. Despite how useful it might sound to have around, a power nullification effect seemed to always feature as a punishment or an attack, never benign in purpose.


Inhibitor collar x1
Points Cost: 10
Points Balance: 0
Insufficient Points. Buy on Credit (Credit Available: 400 Points)?


The delivery box materialized to deposit a rectangular strip of metal and a keyfob in his hands. Testing it out, he pressed the biggest button on the controller and the strip unfurled into a curving band, clasping where the two ends meet. Another toggle returned it to the inert state. The next switch down was labeled 'Inhibitor', simple enough. The last button, marked by a lightning bolt, laid under a cover one must flip open, reassuring Jaune that the girl won't zap herself by accident.

Walking to the bed, Jaune lifted the girl's head with one hand, the other placing the device behind her neck. Smooth metal flowed over her skin to create a loop. Done, he took a step back to observe his handiwork.

It…it didn't look too bad. Hardly like a human rights abuse at all. A person might even mistake the thing for a choker at first glance. Yeah, he'll call it that from now on, and try not to think about the sketchier aspects.

He felt a touch better about the matter once he activated the power-inhibiting function and the girl gave this long, soft sigh that spoke of sweet relief. She seemed disinclined to wake up anytime soon, falling into a true sleep with a smile playing on her lips.

Sporting a smile of his own, Jaune left her to it. Tossing the keyfob and the scroll onto the table, he sat down against a wall to wait. The fatigue from his recent ordeals was catching up, and with no more troubles on the horizon, he allowed his eyes to close for a while.

-o-​

However long he drifted off for, he did not know. In his sleep, he dreamt of Beacon and home, of a city by the sea and a bright sun. Everything was jumbled up in one place, existing in a raucous harmony. The faces around him, all the people he knew, wore happy expressions. It was a beautiful dream that he could have forever lost himself in and when he awoke in an otherworld apartment, he almost shed a tear.

Blinking the moisture away, Jaune noticed movement in his vision. He peered through half-dozing eyes at a shape on the far side of the room. That purple color was reminiscent of something, but…

Ah. The girl he rescued. She's up, and no longer prone to incapacitation, looks like. A roaring success.

She was also fast coming closer to him, both hands wrapped around a shiny object. Crocea Mors, his mind supplied and Jaune chuckled under his breath. She's holding it all wrong. Her form sucked even worse than Skitter's did with the halberd.

It occurred to his sluggish awareness a little too late to ask the question of why she was carrying his sword. He got his answer when the girl, standing over him, raised Crocea Mors high with a grunt of effort. The last traces of sleep were banished as Jaune came to grips with the situation. Namely, that this appeared to be a murder attempt. The sword swung down.

"Holy—!" He shouted in panic and brought his hands up, slapping them together in a maneuver he had only ever seen Pyrrha accomplish outside of movies. On this occasion, he succeeded—like a boss!—and caught the blade in between his palms mere inches from it connecting with his head.

Boy and girl stared at each other.

"What. The fuck, lady!?"

She, in lieu of giving a response, released his sword and scrambled away. Reaching the shield half of Crocea Mors, she hid behind it.

Like, not even lifting the thing, she just propped up the shield and tucked herself into a ball in the most useless defensive stance in history. The eyes peeking at him over the edge were wide with terror, the absolute fear taking him aback to bleed off some of his ire. Only some, because holy damn she tried to kill him! It wouldn't have worked since he had Aura, but still, bloodthirsty much?

Holding up a hand in a warding gesture, he made to stand.

"Okay, listen, I—"

The girl did the opposite as he asked, immediately covering her ears. Unsupported, the shield flopped over. She stared at it for a bit before sighing.

"Just kill me," she murmured, arms dropping to her sides. "If I'm going to be Mastered, then I'd rather die first."

Kill? Mastered?

He opened his mouth. She beat him to it. "Really makes me wonder, though…why would you need all those abilities, Jax, unless getting a girl on your own was too tough~" A mocking sneer. "Performance issues, perhaps?"

Hearing that stupid name, the pieces of the puzzle clicked to form a picture of what happened during his nap. Jaune peered past her at the table, confirming that the scroll sat at a remove from where he left it.

He took a step, halting when she flinched. Slowly, maintaining eye contact throughout, Jaune gave the girl a wide berth as he made a circuit around her. Once next to the table, he picked up the scroll.

Yep. Status screen. Right at the section that listed out the many fantastical [Skills] of a dead man. Except, if you miss the line that declared him dead, you might mistake the device (and powers) as belonging to the sole other person in the vicinity.

"Look," he said to the girl. As should have been expected by now, she squeezed her eyes closed and covered her ears again, because following the orders of someone believed to be in possession of mind control abilities and bearing the intention of using it on you would be the heights of stupidity. Jaune palmed his face. "I'm not Jax. I'M. NOT. JAX."

The shout was heard. A wary eye cracked open, ready to slam shut at a moment's notice.

"He's gone. Check this part here." Jaune pointed under Jax's name, where it said 'State: Dead', inching closer to the girl one cautious step at a time so she could see. Curiosity got the best of her and she visibly resisted the urge to bolt away, instead leaning forward to read the screen.

"Oh."

Jaune smiled.

"Well, I knew that."

Jaune frowned. The girl endured the flat stare he leveled at her quite admirably, confident expression daring him to contradict her claim.

"It was… a test. Yes, a test." She glanced to the side to avoid his accusing eyes, before rallying. "A-and you took my powers away! What is that if not a 'I'm going to do terrible things to you, huhuhu' move? And you put a collar on me." Jaune winced.

"I would call it a choker."

She arched an eyebrow. "And I would call it a collar. A slave collar."

"Whoa, okay, let's not go that far. I assure you it was necessary for your own good." He paused to contemplate that line, which sounded suspiciously similar to the official SDC stance on faunus work conditions, and revised his words. "Your power was going haywire and I had to use the col– choker to shut it off. You can deactivate the effect at any time by toggling the keyfob over there, but—"

No longer listening, the girl ran for the table. One frantic search later, the control device was in her hands; she pressed on it while displaying a victorious smirk. Jaune simply sighed.

Three…Two…One. Cue the obvious routine.

Rolling his eyes, he walked over to the passed out girl, reaching down to enable the inhibitor again.

-o-​

In a sparsely-furnished room with gray walls and a white ceiling, a girl stood at the wide window, looking out over an alien sky. Nose pressed to the glass, she bore an agog expression. In the background, a boy droned on and on about a bunch of nonsense.

At least, that's what Jaune guessed her opinion was, because the girl who referred to herself as Tattletale was barely responding.

"Did you hear me?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're the one that asked for an explanation, remember?"

"Uh-huh."

"That planet up there is going to impact this one in a few hours."

Tattletale spun to him. "WHAT!?"

"I'm kid—"

She had already whirled back to the window, one hand clicking on the controller suppressing her superpower, the ability to infer and extrapolate data on a level that a detective could only dream of. Tattletale claimed she was the closest thing to a psychic in Brockton Bay—and at first tried to get him to buy that fib until he called her out with his own earlier deductions. With her power, she can as good as read a person's thoughts, and smell a deception from across the street. Without…well.

Jaune was happy to say that the sensory overload did not lead to a subsequent loss of consciousness this time, just a keening whine as Tattletale clutched her head. Improvements!

Although, had she looked at him or the scroll for any length of time, it would still knock her out for some reason. How odd.

After she reactivated the choker, he asked, "Were you really trying to check if the planet was going to hit us?"

"…No. Of course not."

"It was just a joke."

"And I knew that." She insisted in a bare-faced lie, clinging on to what shreds of her pride that remained.

Which was kind of pointless, since he had long concluded that this girl was hilarious. How else did she want him to think when, after being provided the answer to her woes, she continued to repeatedly shoot herself in the foot for the smallest of things, like switching on her power in an attempt to verify that his name was real.

"So, let me get this straight," Tattletale said, getting back to the matter at hand (and in no way changing the subject). "You have a phone—"

"Scroll."

"—phone that sells anything and everything, and can also open portals to different worlds."

"That's the gist of it."

"It sold you this collar that shuts off my power completely, and it can sell powers."

"Yup, except for the collar part. It's a choker."

"And you just happened to show up in Brockton Bay, fought Leviathan on a whim, then accidently took me to a different universe. Except, it's a one way trip so you can't put me back on Earth Bet."

"Not quite how I would put it, but yes." He would have (and did) recount the story twice as heroically. He arrived in Brockton Bay, as intended. Dueled Leviathan, for great justice! Absconded with the girl to a different world, to rescue her—minor complications notwithstanding.

"Bullshit!"

"Oh, come on! There's a literal planet in place of the moon, your superpower isn't working, and I showed you the Jump Portal app. I'm telling the truth. What don't you like about it?"

She cocked her hip, and smirked. "All it proves is that you want to keep me here. Tinkertech that allows extradimensional travel have existed for years and each one of those pieces of equipment weighs, like, a ton. Saying this itty bitty phone can do the same is laughable. It's a red herring, and the collar does nothing. You're using a Shaker effect to disorient me whenever I use my power, conditioning me like a dog to stop trying. It only works in a room this size, so you hid the exit to prevent me from leaving and learning the truth or finding the portal-tech that can send me back home. How close am I?"

"On a different world entirely, in every sense," Jaune retorted. "But alright. If you can rationalize the what, then tell me the why, because this is a lot of effort to go through to trick someone I pulled out of a tidal wave. Taking a swim in that for you wasn't exactly fun, and I could have looked elsewhere for a scam victim."

His words wiped off that smugness of hers, replacing it with a new expression he has yet to see on Tattletale. Unsure, lost, and far softer.

"Well, you obviously thought it was worth the risk…"

"Doesn't answer the why, you know~" Jaune crooned with no small amount of vindictiveness, ticked off by the barrage of accusations from what was a rather ungrateful person in his opinion. The thought occurred that he can prove his claim by connecting to an Instance and shoving her through for a few minutes to fight Leviathan 2.0 or something. If only he wasn't burdened with that pesky little problem called a conscience. Le sigh.

"I-I'm figuring that out now." She fidgeted under his deadpan stare. "You did it because, um…because I'm pretty?"

Jaune gagged. The sheer vanity on this one.

His reaction caused Tattletale to give an indignant squawk, one foot stomping petulantly. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean? I'm not wrong! We just can't all afford enhancements like you!"

"Enhancements?" Jaune furrowed his brows. "What enhancements?"

"Do you expect me to believe that face is natural?" Tattletale scoffed. "Perfect symmetry, no blemishes, glowing smooth skin; I want to meet whoever did the job, because they are good. Like, parahuman levels of skill. Honestly, this was the thing that almost convinced me about that magical store of yours. It would explain how you got your appearance if you can buy your way to handsomeness. I wouldn't put it past you."

Was she a masseuse? Because his ego was getting stroked and pampered like never before. The earlier anger vanished in the wind, and he decided that Tattletale was surely a good person. Yup, yup.

"It hurts me to say, but most people I know generally agree that this is kinda mid." Jaune said, pointing to his face.

"Yeah, right. How beautiful would actual beautiful people be, then?"

The notes of jealousy in her voice convinced him. That was not mere flattery she spouted, but her true feelings, and Jaune saw an earlier event in a new light.

Back when Sundancer grew so flustered in his presence…maybe, just maybe, her reaction at the time wasn't due to natural charm and good looks overflowing from his every pores, but came about because of a dissonance in beauty standards existing between their two worlds. It would mean he had understated things when he considered Sundancer and Tattletale to be pretty and cute, respectively. On the other hand, guys from the Worm universe might well suffer heart attacks should they ever meet Pyrrha or Yang.

It raised the question of how others would judge him were he to travel to a world of near-angelic levels of attractiveness. Perhaps they'd view him as an ugly goblin of a man? He hoped to never find out. His self-esteem may not survive the experience.

Breaking away from a vision of people mistaking him for a hideous monster and hunting him down, Jaune returned his attention to the blonde girl who conflated the speechlessness with her victory and has accordingly grown smug once again.

"While I'm certain that appearance upgrades are for sale in the Marketplace, I haven't bought any of them. I doubt you'd accept it, though, because you seem to think I'm lying from start to finish. So, what is it that's going to persuade you, Tattletale?"

She hummed, tapping a finger on her chin. "Ummm, let me try out the store. Seeing is believing, after all."

Despite her affectation of nonchalance, Tattletale couldn't quite hide the momentary flash of hunger. She's tempted by the prospect of unlimited power and even prettier looks, he'd bet the fortune he didn't have on it. The sneaking suspicion arose that she had been angling for this all along.

"I don't have much Points to spare," he hedged. "It'd have to be cheap."

"How many of these 'Points' do you have?"

"There's 610 Points—"

"Well, I'm sure we can find something to fit that budget."

"—of debt," he finished. Tattletale looked very unimpressed, prompting him to defend himself. "The limit is a thousand, so I have leeway, and it's not like I went on a spending spree for fun. Those Points saved lives."

Grudgingly, her expression softened. "Right. You mentioned that." A pause. "Hey, you really did it, then? Helped out Sundancer and… Skitter?" She said the second name with some fondness. It spurred a hunch.

"If Skitter was the kid wearing a dark costume with a yellow-eyed, insect-looking helmet, then yes. I'm guessing you're familiar with each other."

A nod. "Mhm. That's the one. She's a friend of mine, or as best as you can have in this business. It's good that you saved her. So, thanks." A sense of malaise stole over her countenance. She soon played it off, but not before Jaune became keenly aware that by bringing her here, he had ripped her from everybody she knew. "A-Anyway, was it all medical supplies that you bought? Not gonna lie, the cost seems a little expensive if that was the case." Jaune waved his hand in a negative.

"Nah, most of the credit was spent on this one ability. It's called [Blank] , and it makes me…immune…to Thinker powers… I might know why you pass out looking at me." He winced upon meeting the gaze of the flabbergasted girl, who quickly recovered and pounced on him. She grabbed two handfuls of his shirt, shaking him; the scroll slipped out of his grasp, bouncing across the floor.

"No, duh, you ass! Turn it off!"

"Why? You're wearing the choker."

"Pleeease!" Wait, were those tears in her eyes? Jaune panicked when Tattletale sniffled. "I feel uncomfortable when I don't have my powers active, and it really hurts when I look at you without the inhibitor. Please, Jaune, it huuuurts~"

"Alright, alright! Don't cry. I'm not sure if I can, but I'll try." And he discovered that he could. The moment he thought of wanting to deactivate [Blank] , the mental image of a slider scale emerged within his mind. Jaune willed it to move and it obeyed, falling from the top position to the bottom. "There. That did it, I think. You… you aren't going to cry, are you?" The hesitant shake of her head was not encouraging, so he employed what he'd learned growing up with seven sisters to distract, distract, distract. "Hey, how about I show you that Marketplace. Maybe I can't buy anything big, but it's getting to about dinner time, probably, so what say we get some food? How does that sound?"

"...'kay."

Whatever annoyance and hard feelings Jaune had for the girl sputtered to nothing as he extricated himself from under her to go find the scroll. How could anyone stay mad after a sight like that?

-o-​

Behind Jaune's back, a no-longer-teary Tattletale…grinned an all too fox-like grin.

---

Author's Notes: Turned [Blank] off around Tattletale. Nice move. And with Jaune getting the upper hand in their exchanges thus far, she now has something to prove.

Yeah, that's Lisa Wilbourn. Self-serving, impulsive, manipulative, kinda bratty. If she has a softer side, it's buried deep. Will default to using her power even when she knows it's a bad idea, will use it for shortsighted petty purposes, and will even do it for the lulz. An imperfect person. The anti-waifu.

Some writers like to take these traits away and portray her as an absolute darling and genius planner. To make things easy, Waifu Catalog MCs upon adding her to the party would typically grab the perks that just… smooths out all of her downsides, personality- and superpower-wise, so she'd work properly. Though, had any of them bothered to ask her, she would loudly insist that she's fine as she is. After all, there's not much she hates more than being treated as a convenient tool for others (her parents, the supervillain Coil) to exploit, instead of being seen as a person.

And now, flaws and all, she's making half of a dynamic duo with Jaune. It's going to be hell on them both.

.

You know who's the actual sweetie pie, as written in Worm? Sundancer, the gamergirl/ballerina who (technically) lives in a foreign country. Backstory has her as a legit pro gamer from an almost-identical Earth to ourselves, meaning she would understand the principles of minmaxing builds and probably has reliable meta knowledge if they entered the more popular game franchise universes. Give her the Company Scroll and she could have helped Jaune munchkin his way to OPness. In short, she's the perfect waifu for someone clueless in a World-jumping WC story. A shame that those qualities aren't the criteria on who gets brought along.

After all, the synopsis doesn't say 'power gets handed to Jaune and the road home is going to be a smooth, easy ride full of him styling on the multiverse'.

 

[Spelloyal]

Great fic, but starting with worm, losing all the loot and to make matters worse taking a canonical Tattletale with him is a really shitty start. At that point he might as well have gone to Doom or 40k.

 

[Drkonecharlie]

Well it can only go down hill from here

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

Great fic, but starting with worm, losing all the loot and to make matters worse taking a canonical Tattletale with him is a really shitty start. At that point he might as well have gone to Doom or 40k.

Click to shrink...

Thanks for reading!
And it looks bad doesn't it? Hehe. But canonical Tattletale can only succeed as canonical Tattletale if she continue to live in a place like Wormverse.

Well it can only go down hill from here

Click to shrink...

Thanks for reading!
Be optimistic! After that clusterfuck, there's no where to go but up!

 

[MasterOfDragonsGod]

Honestly if Jaune was smart the wise thing to do would be to turn his powers back on after showing that blank works the way he said it does.

 

[WaNoMatsuri]

Oh, this is amazing! Watched so hard.

 

[Shadowj6480]

The only WC-esque fic I'm actually invested in. Reading Jaune doesn't make me want to gag every 20 seconds, he's genuinely a good person who is way in over his head, and bro has literally no idea what the optimal moves for anything is. Overall, makes it a lot more interesting. At least for me anyways.

The Leviathan instance divergence was also one hell of a thing too. Certain parts really caught me by surprise, and the character interactions were genuinely enjoyable.

 

[xThomas3]

It's interesting.

Quite happy the terrible mc got ganked in ch1 and replaced with generic protagonist Jaune Arc.

 

[Hope915]

Me, holding a snarling Tattletale up by her arms: "Return this product, it is defective."

Cannot properly express my aggrievement at being jebaited by that cute rapport before being subjected to the vulpine grimace. We want Sundancer, the people's choice! I demand satisfaction in the ring of honor!

This is well-written, so I'll still read and enjoy it, but damn... I almost wish you hadn't offered up a vision of what could've been.

 

[DannyPhantom619]

Really hope in the future Jaune finds or buys an artifact that'll let him travel to worlds he's to been before. He's got a promise to keep after all.

 

[Knived]

Eww i hope he gets rid of tattletale soon. Shes too annoying to deal with

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

Honestly if Jaune was smart the wise thing to do would be to turn his powers back on after showing that blank works the way he said it does.

Click to shrink...

Oh, he definitely needs to learn how to use the finer points of his skills more naturally. At this point, he's only had [Blank] for a few hours. He'll get there.

Oh, this is amazing! Watched so hard.

Click to shrink...

I'm glad you are enjoying it

The only WC-esque fic I'm actually invested in. Reading Jaune doesn't make me want to gag every 20 seconds, he's genuinely a good person who is way in over his head, and bro has literally no idea what the optimal moves for anything is. Overall, makes it a lot more interesting. At least for me anyways.

The Leviathan instance divergence was also one hell of a thing too. Certain parts really caught me by surprise, and the character interactions were genuinely enjoyable.

Click to shrink...

Thank you for reading! That was the vibe I was going for, it's good to hear that I nailed it down right.

It's interesting.

Quite happy the terrible mc got ganked in ch1 and replaced with generic protagonist Jaune Arc.

Click to shrink...

Lol. Poor Jax. We hardly knew him.

Me, holding a snarling Tattletale up by her arms: "Return this product, it is defective."

Cannot properly express my aggrievement at being jebaited by that cute rapport before being subjected to the vulpine grimace. We want Sundancer, the people's choice! I demand satisfaction in the ring of honor!

This is well-written, so I'll still read and enjoy it, but damn... I almost wish you hadn't offered up a vision of what could've been.

Click to shrink...

Hehe. Very good. Remember her. Treasure her.

Really hope in the future Jaune finds or buys an artifact that'll let him travel to worlds he's to been before. He's got a promise to keep after all.

Click to shrink...

Grin, grin.

Eww i hope he gets rid of tattletale soon. Shes too annoying to deal with

Click to shrink...

Nah. Let's have them start a dysfunctional romcom found family scenario.

 

[Phantom Blaster]

On one hand I hate the bait and switch because Sundancer had a lot of chemistry with Jaune and had some chapters to fresh her out. On the other Lisa is hilarious and completely going full meme when both get into deep shit trying out to survive.

Best equivalent that I have is Taylor and Amy post Golden Morning of that fight where Taylor is a Bard and her music make people want to kill themselves or gives brain damage when she tried to do a buff, peak trolling.

 

[Eld_Tiger]

I find turn a defense off to be lore wrong, should be passive and that's it but hey you're writing.

 

[The Impossible Muffin]

Jaune's absolutely going to get another instance of Worm later on and run into Sundancer.... who has no idea who he is. Brutal.

 

[edoa]

Wow, so Jaune comes to unknown fight, decides he knows better than everyone, refuses to backdown, spends all the points he needs on people he just met, and returns with probably the worst person he could have picked. The only one that will have a field day in manipulating him, and will do so without second thoughts, and is also grey enough not to be ever kicked away from the adventure.

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

On one hand I hate the bait and switch because Sundancer had a lot of chemistry with Jaune and had some chapters to fresh her out. On the other Lisa is hilarious and completely going full meme when both get into deep shit trying out to survive.

Best equivalent that I have is Taylor and Amy post Golden Morning of that fight where Taylor is a Bard and her music make people want to kill themselves or gives brain damage when she tried to do a buff, peak trolling.

Click to shrink...

All part of the plan Please, do enjoy the ride. And always, always, keep Sundancer in your heart.

I find turn a defense off to be lore wrong, should be passive and that's it but hey you're writing.

Click to shrink...

Yup! that's why it's a WC-lite system. Priority is story.

Jaune's absolutely going to get another instance of Worm later on and run into Sundancer.... who has no idea who he is. Brutal.

Click to shrink...

Sometimes I get a comment like this on one of my stories, and I question if there are not mindreaders among us
Nothing is set in stone, though.

Wow, so Jaune comes to unknown fight, decides he knows better than everyone, refuses to backdown, spends all the points he needs on people he just met, and returns with probably the worst person he could have picked. The only one that will have a field day in manipulating him, and will do so without second thoughts, and is also grey enough not to be ever kicked away from the adventure.

Click to shrink...

I sense "I can do better if it was me there" vibes from this, which I've addressed in the story .
Hehehe, and he most certainly did refuse to back down! Why? Because his vaunted plan is a basic idea where he comes from. Fighting Big Monsters 101, as taught by Beacon Academy doctrine, says that you work together in teams to cover weaknesses and enhance attacks. Of course, it is also the one thing author Wildbow hammered into our heads as being a concept Worm's characters struggle with for the entire length of the story, with each parahuman trusting their own power above all. The different mindsets of two worlds clashed, with both sides thinking they are the ones making more sense, neither willing to back down. And thus, drama!

 

[Eld_Tiger]

It's like an option on app for privacy but then Lisa is going to get an headache and Jaune didn't learn the massage it away

 

[LazyAutumnMoon]

As with every category Jaune had visited in the Marketplace thus far, the Food tab offered a lot of choices. Some items Jaune recognized, while other available meals featured fantastical ingredients not found anywhere on Remnant. He swore to himself that he will one day try out the Dragon Steak (tail cut) and Phoenix Egg (poached).

For the sake of today's demonstration, he bought two containers of sushi. Each cost 3 Points, though that was less a reflection of quality and more being the case for mundane meals in general. Instant ramen packages carry the same price tag. A simple hamburger, ditto. If he had to guess, it came down to a matter of supply and demand. Fish, rice, beef, and flour can probably be sourced as needed from different universes, since both Remnant and Earth Bet (the name of her world according to Tattletale) had them; in normal, everyday circumstances—i.e. when not trapped in a doorless room with zero ways to call for restaurant takeout—people can buy all of those foodstuff with money. The dish made by a five-star (or higher) chef using the sap of a million-year old tree and meat from a space turtle was a bit harder to put together, and the corresponding price reflected that.

Tattletale pretended she had not been impressed at first, saying how the scroll was just a glorified food delivery service. She has gotten quieter and quieter with the passing minutes, however, and now sat with her face buried in the screen, engrossed. Her sushi lay half-eaten nearby.

Jaune left her to it, occupied by his own meal. After the hectic… dangerous… insane events of the recent past, he discovered in the normality of this scene a precious thing he had not known he treasured. It harkened back to the good old days of last week where he and his team would commandeer a table at the cafeteria for breakfast, eating in companionable silence—or as silent as can be when Nora was present—before they departed for classes. The peace never lasted long since it was Beacon they were talking about, but for a few minutes all would be well in the world.

"Oh?"

And then somebody would inevitably break the comfortable illusion. How like home.

He has grown familiar with the tone and pitch of that sound in the past hour. It signaled that an unbridled curiosity has been piqued, and so far always preceded a certain behavior. Without looking, he reached out to grab the hand inching toward the keyfob that would deactivate the choker on Tattletale's neck.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

His guest flashed a confident grin, which did not reassure him much. She displayed that same smugness on the previous occasions.

"Oh, ye of little faith. I've already solved that problem! My ability is rooted in observation, and I can usually analyze a target in an instant. Something about this device is blocking me—" She scrunched her nose, glaring at the scroll with peevish distaste. "—so that's not the play here. No, I instead studied it in detail without activating my power to familiarize myself with the minutia beforehand, and now I'll Think on it to unlock all the hidden secrets this little guy is trying to hide. Watch me. It'll work."

Such determined eyes…

Ten Lien on this backfiring. Rather than saying that out loud, Jaune released her hand. "If you say so, then."

With a push of a button, the Inhibitor powered down. In the opening seconds, it seemed to have gone well. Tattletale's face morphed into an expression of wonder as she read the words on the screen.

"Ow!"

And then, pain. She fumbled to turn the choker back on, missing the keyfob with her fingers due to her eyes staying riveted on the scroll, unable to look away despite the intensifying headache. Jaw clenched, Tattletale hissed under her breath, not protesting when Jaune took her hand again and guided her to press the correct button. Afterward, she slumped on the table, rubbing at her eyes.

"Catch your breath. Don't make sudden movements." Jaune leaned down to get a look at her. "You good?"

"Yeah…" A tentative raise of the head. A blink. Two. Tattletale exhaled. "Ugh, that could have gone better. Why didn't you stop me?"

Jaune shrugged, retrieving the scroll. "A lifetime of wrangling little sisters says not to. Some lessons are best learned when self-taught. Besides, you're doing better. I saw how you were trying to shut off your power when it became too much to bear. Good job! And you don't fall unconscious anymore." The unsubtle positive reinforcement earned him a glare. He took heart that she did not bite his head off, and jotted it down as another win for the Jaune Arc's Handbook (For Surviving a House Full of Annoying Blondes).

"Whose fault is that, I wonder?" She groused. Jaune gave a nervous chuckle, and averted his eyes.

So, as it turned out, Tattletale had a problem and 90% of it came from [Blank]. Whoops. The room, the outside view, and the scroll each contributed to the mental burden, but stacking his power on top of those was what pushed her over the edge, the deluge of stimuli that would greet her upon regaining consciousness invariably drawing a path back to him at which point her brain loses the ability to draw conclusions. Without the anti-Thinker effect, she soon acclimatized to their surroundings after repeated exposure, the planet in the sky now a nonissue to her senses. The Company's device, however, did retain a tendency to send her into a spiral of speculations on other universes, the nature of existence, and the nebulous intentions of the shadowy entity known as The Company until she short-circuited.

That last one, now that he thought about it, might be to blame for her predicament. After all, the scroll was smarter than it let on.

He revised the statement when Tattletale, without hesitation, deactivated the choker the moment her headache faded, freeing her power to roam. Half the fault, at the minimum, belonged to the girl herself.

"I resent that!"

It was very hard to not see her as a mindreader when she would respond to his thoughts.

"You might as well consider me one. There's nothing that you can hide from these eyes!"

"Uh-huh. I'm of the opinion that you would benefit greatly from thinking less about 'can', and more about 'should'. In the interest of you not harming yourself—" Tattletale jolted at that, for what reason he has yet to understand. "—It's best if I confiscate this," Jaune said, shaking the scroll in his hand for emphasis, to her immediate protest.

"Wait, I'm doing just fine! And I was on the verge of sussing out some juicy tidbits! Let me see!" She scrambled out of her seat. Jaune hopped back from the girl and held the device out of her reach as she bounced up and down, trying to grab at it.

"That's kind of what I'm worried about, Tattletale! This thing is more sophisticated than it seems. It might have a security feature like my [Blank]—"

"To protect the Company's proprietary technology? Yeah, I thought of that ages before you did. But doesn't that make you want to crack it open even more? C'mon, live a little." Tattle said, grinning. She did that a lot.

Jaune was not convinced by the call to adventure. "Look, there's a point where you have to admit that you're outmatched." The narrowing of her eyes suggested he had said the wrong thing. Hastily, he moved on. "Besides, the purpose of lending you the scroll was so you can see that I was telling the truth."

The grin took on a predatory air, somewhat akin to a cat looking at a mouse. "Hmmm. I dunno. Fighting monsters of darkness, then dying and coming back to a new world. Going toe to toe with Leviathan. Saving girls left and right. It sounds like a fairy tale…or a delusion."

Gurgh! His heart, it hurts. She's kind of right, though. What even was his life?

"Honestly? Fair. I'm having trouble coming to grips with it, and I lived it. Still, I've provided you with what evidence I have and, frankly, the truth isn't going to change just because you believe otherwise." He spread his arms to encompass the room. "This is our reality, and we need to figure out how to proceed from here. I wish I could return you home, but that's beyond me. Instead, here's what I was thinking—"

"Bup bup bup!" Tattletale interjected, silencing him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm going to stop you right there. Your planning ability hasn't impressed me much so far."

Jaune tilted his head away to avoid her finger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your 'plan' boiled down to diving headlong into one universe after another and pillaging anything not bolted down. Alright. Respect. Nothing like a spree of smash-and-grabs to get the heart racing." Not the term he would use. Tattletale gave a sudden laugh. "But not untrue, even if you'd prefer to sugarcoat it. Anyway, I'm telling you right now, as a verified expert in the fine art of asset liberation, that your current method isn't tenable in the long run."

Asset liber— Jaune pointed a finger at her face. "You're a thief!"

"A Villain, thank you." She proclaimed without missing a beat. "And you don't have room to talk, Mr. Steals-Everybody's-Tinkertech. Ooooh, and that's not the first crime you've committed! Well, well, well. You're not the goody-two-shoes I thought you were. Blue collar, white collar, fraud—forgery? Was it financial—no, academic! Awww, that means it's just a misdemeanor instead of a felony, how adorable. Although, that's not the reason you feel guilty, is it? I wonder, do you truly deserve to be a hero when your Hero School papers are… a lie… wait, hang on, why didn't the faculty kick you out if they knew? What are they, cracked in the head?" Tattletale complained as the wind was taken out of her sail.

The bewildered expression sparked a quiet amusement in Jaune. He likely wore a similar look on his own face the day Headmaster Ozpin revealed he had known of the transcripts the whole time.

The long-suppressed doubts drawn forth by Tattletale settled back into the calm seas of his mind. There had been a moment of kneejerk panic, but what did he have to worry about? The matter was over and done with. Ozpin claimed to have seen potential in him, and allowed him the chance to prove it. He has yet to fail, and once he succeeded in returning to Remnant with the means to protect everyone, nobody can deny his worth.

"If you succeed. Like I said, your current course will end in failure."

Annoyed, Jaune said, "How's that, then?"

The smile Tattletale wore now was the widest he had ever seen. In a lecturing, condescending, tone of voice, she detailed all the things he had failed to consider, revealing the true scope of the daunting task he had set out to accomplish. A proper base of operation, intelligence on the worlds he will travel to, a gameplan to get in and out, weapons, utility tools, contingencies; the list of what he lacked went on and on.

At the start of his journey, he had expected, optimistically, that it would take him an undefined but short amount of time to accrue the Points needed to overcome Beacon's crisis. What did that involve again? An answer to three armies (Grimm, robots, White Fang), two mobile city-destroying siege weapons (a dragon, and a probable giant robot), and an assassin/magical girl able to fight on par with Ozpin who was touted as one of the Kingdom's best (and her team of lackeys).

Doable? He was looking at a full-on war campaign, translating to months of hopping universes, if not longer.

He needed to eat. Sleep. Live. That meant spending on daily meals, changes of clothes, toiletries, and a host of other commonplace things. The Marketplace can provide, but the costs added up in the long run, and trading treasures for cereals was a horrendous waste of Points. Restock from the Instances instead, and he would lose out on space for the valuables that were his goal, necessitating a constant balancing act. Maintenance will require another outlay, either of time or Points. Get his hands on an object too complicated, and it would be as useful as paperweight without the relevant operating knowledge. If he happened to have expended the entirety of his Points balance on it? Well, then it was goodbye Beacon.

By the end, Jaune was ready to go back and face the music. A fuckup like him can at least try to put his body between Pyrrha and an attack from the fire lady.

"—it's seriously laughable how little thought you put into thiiiis but, hey, you have the bare bones ready, now it's just a matter of building from there and I'm pretty sure a couple rounds of purchases from that online store would put you on the right track. You have loads of time anyway, if your world is frozen like you said. So, um, maybe you could do okay?"

There's no response. It's just a corpse.

The change in tune elicited no change to Jaune's mood. He sat slumped in his chair, and one would swear he had faded to an ashen white. Standing over him, Tattletale beheld her great work, and her expression was one of anxiousness bleeding into horror.

"You're not wrong, though," Jaune said, voice hollow. "I don't even have any real starting funds for my next run. The one thing of value I have on hand to pawn off is Crocea Mors, but it's not like the thing is worth that much either. Nowhere near the level of a lightsaber. I'm… I'm in a really bad spot, huh?"

"Pshaw, that's nothing! I've been in worse straits, and I made out like a bandit. You just need to, you know, use critical thinking and stuff. You don't have Points, and don't want to sell your family heirloom? That's okay! It doesn't necessarily have to be permanent. Trade it in now to tide over the hard times, and buy it back later when you're rich. See? The situation's not so hopeless already!" Some color returned to Jaune, not much. Tattletale continued, words spewing out in a rush, "L-Look, what's the sword worth? I can check the store to see what falls in the budget, and set you up with the basics. That should help you survive wherever it is you're going to next, and you can decide on your choices afterward. Fresh eyes and all that, you know? And let's maybe not go with whatever else you might have been thinking about?"

Jaune stared down at the scroll in his hand, not inclined to do much of anything. Tattletale reached over to tap the button that opened the screen, then dithered by his side, waiting in silence with a strange constipated face—

"It's a look of encouragement!"

—Ah, that. It did not suit her, seeming awkward and unpracticed.

"Shut uuuup!" Tattletale whined as Jaune at last cracked a smile. She sounded more relieved than angry.

He fired up the app, and navigated to the Sell page. Crocea Mors, by his recollection, was worth around six or seven hundred Points. A quick inspection confirmed it stood at seven hundred, and Jaune experienced a pang of disappointment at the thought of his ancestral blade failing to scratch the fabled (and arbitrary) milestone of a thousand Points. Then again, the number reflected what The Company was willing to pay. Its retail price on the Marketplace should be higher assuming his knowledge of basic economics held true. In the (very unlikely) event that he made the trade, he would have to check it out. For the ego boost if nothing else.

Putting a pin on the idea, Jaune was about to give Tattletale an answer when he noticed a discrepancy. The list of his possessions appeared longer than it should. Below his clothes and weapons was another line… h-h–how many Points!?

What could he have that was worth 14,000 Points? His gaze snapped to the other side of the screen. The words he saw there froze him solid.

Tattletale/Lisa Wilbourn/Sarah Livsey

In the ensuing silence, Jaune became starkly aware of the person next to him, who had broken out in a cold sweat after reading from his posture the new information. Who happened to carry a price tag according to the scroll. It considered her a product.

Just when he thought he understood how deep the rabbit hole went, a whole other level to The Company revealed itself. The Marketplace sold more than methods of enthralling women. In this new light, that 'Waifu' category took on a different meaning; it did not stock overpriced plastic figurines like he initially, and naively, believed. For the discerning customer, the scroll was all too willing to skip the intervening steps.

Twelve of her.

Twelve Tattletales and he can acquire the power to rain meteors from the sky. Thirty, and he would own an axe capable of cracking a continent in half—which he supposed a sufficient number of meteors can do, too, albeit with the fatal flaw of lighting him on fire.

Out of his periphery, he caught green eyes briefly darting to the screen, just long enough to catch her exact worth, before trailing to his thumb that was hovering way too close to the icon representing her. She made an attempt at affecting nonchalance, facial features trying to twitch into a semblance of confidence. It looked more like a grimace, and was further undermined by her clenched fists and shortened breaths. She may be the mindreader between the two of them, but at this moment Jaune had little trouble seeing the wheels spinning in that blonde head, calculating whether she could dive for the scroll faster than he could move.

And then, abruptly, she relaxed. A familiar grin made its return a full second ahead of Jaune—in a slow, careful motion—placing the scroll on the table and retracting his hand.

"W-Wooow, fourteen grand. You could have made bank. Didn't you say that pile of tinkertech you were lugging around added up to about ten? I see, I see. Who would've thought that I'm such an expensive gal~"

Now, say it again without the stutter, and he might believe her cool attitude was genuine.

"You have a superpower. I guess that's rarer than a fancy gun. It's a moot point, though, don't you think? Selling people really isn't in the cards." In his world, the SDC came closest to taking that backstep to last century, and even they were unwilling to go over the line. An entity seen as the devil incarnate by a not-insignificant subset of Remnant's population thought it would be too much.

Breaking news, it's official. The maker of this scroll he was using ranked higher on the evil scale than Jaques Schnee. What was the word for the opposite of an ethical consumer? Because that's him right now.

Somehow, somehow, Tattletale made it worse. "You'd be surprised at the number of people who disagree with that sentiment. Around the bay? There are… rumors."

Breaking news, it's official. Brockton Bay was right up there on the evil scale.

"First Leviathan, now slave trafficking? You live in literal hell," Jaune deadpanned.

"Yeeeah, that's good old BB's nickname," Tattletale drawled. "Along with 'Nazi-capital of the US' and 'Shithole'." She plopped down on a seat, and made a grabbing motion at the scroll. "Now, gimme."

"You mean it about helping me?" Jaune asked in astonishment. With some hesitation, he pushed the device nearer to her reach. Showing that she can learn, Tattletale dampened her power before picking it up.

"What with the face?" A pout. "I can be generous! A bit of freebie advice isn't a big deal, especially if it keeps you from giving up and doing something stupid…" The grumbling devolved into murmurs too soft for him to comprehend.

"Well, thanks. I owe you one."

Tattletale perked up. "Welcome~ I'll cash that in right now, if you don't mind."

"I- seriously?" Return to him his gratitude, dammit!

"Nihihi. You see, I'm just a poor, innocent girl adrift in the universe—" She snickered as Jaune mimed gagging. "—and I'd appreciate it if you can drop me off on any nice, peaceful world you come across."

"Hang on. Don't you want to go home?" Jaune asked, surprised.

Uh-oh. He might have touched a nerve, because the chatterbox named Tattletale stopped talking. She merely shrugged, continuing to peruse the Marketplace in pointed silence. A hint. Drop it.

The tap-tap-tapping of her fingers on the screen soon became the only sound in the apartment. Jaune fidgeted in his seat, unsure of what topic to broach with his previous question still burning at the forefront of his mind and not inclined to ruin the mood they had managed to build after the previous series of blunders.

"My life for the past year has been devoted to escaping Brockton Bay, and the hold a villain there has over me," Tattletale finally muttered.

"Oh." Okay, that was a pretty dang good reason. Jaune bit down on his next question, whether her situation had anything to do with her fear at the prospect of being 'Mastered'. No conversational precedent existed for asking someone if they also belonged to the Mind-Controlled By a Psycho Club, but he would guess that it counted as a faux-pas when directed at people he just met, and instead pivoted to safer grounds. "What about your family? Or your friends, like Skitter?"

A sigh. "The less said about my 'family', the better. My friends… Skitter left. She's with the heroes now from what you said, where she always wanted to be. As for the rest of my little team of ne'er-do-wells, they're fracturing bit by bit. I give it a couple of months before we dissolve. Beyond that, Earth Bet doesn't have much waiting for me." She looked up into his eyes. There was the barest tremble of her lip; it disappeared, and she flashed a wide smile. "This could be my fresh start."

"I'll make sure to get you to a good world," Jaune blurted out, unthinking.

"Heh. You damn well better."

All that they needed to say, has been said. An understanding was reached. The room settled into quiet tranquility.

It was not until a few minutes later, under a spray of water from the shower-head, that Jaune banged his head against the wall tiles in a bout of self-recrimination, chiding his stupid ass for pushing what must have been every single one of Tattletale's trauma buttons.

Hey, let's remind her of her failing personal relationships! Describe her attempt to show concern as 'constipated'! How about raising the possibility of her being sold to an extradimensional corporation of nonexistent morality? It would be a hoot!

Was this his Semblance? Did he have a special ability to drag a girl's hangups out into the light of day? According to Huntsman convention, people would name their Semblance when they discover it. His was going to be Open Mouth, Insert Foot.

Ugh. It may sound callous, but the day he parted ways with Tattletale could not arrive fast enough. She was not horrible company or anything on that level—worse than three, nowhere near all seven was her Annoying Blonde score in his professional judgment—but, as she said, it would be a fresh start, one that spared him the embarrassing memories of today.

Having washed away the grime of his ordeal, Jaune turned off the shower and, due to habit, put out a hand in the direction he would normally hang his towel. He swiped empty air.

Right, no towel.

Poking his head out of the stall, he searched the bare-boned bathroom, which continued the same theme as the rest of the apartment. Very sleek. Very modern. It exuded a stark, impersonal feel and lacked the personal items that said a person lived here. A careful inspection failed to conjure forth even a tissue, as he had already known. Left with no good option, Jaune shook like a dog to try and get rid of the water clinging to his body—however the furry fellas manage it, he envied them, because he was still damp by the end—before stepping out. His clothes, hung up on the sink in a vain hope that they would dry, were likewise somewhat moist when he donned them.

One thing Tattletale got right, it sucked living without the little conveniences he grew up with. Cups to drink water, a blanket for when he's cold, clean outfits to wear, soap. He also had not brushed his teeth yet in at least twenty four hours.

A day of hoofing it was fine. A week was endurable. A month spent in filth…just no.

He supposed it's similar to what was taught in class at Beacon. When embarking on a Huntsman mission, you would preferably not rush in headlong if the situation allowed it. Pack your own gear, in case your destination could not provide. Scoping out the scene was the prudent thing to do, and always check in with the people of the settlement to gain an idea of what you were facing. He really jumped the gun on his first world, huh?

Brockton Bay… it was a mess and a half, but was also a true unknown at the time. He did well, all things considered. He had learned from his mistakes.

The next Instance will show better results. The one after, even more so. Step by step, he will advance toward his goal.

Determination reinvigorated, Jaune exited the bathroom as a new man, eager to take on the universe. Tattletale, his font of knowledge on the so-called path of smash-and-grabs, was still where he left her, sitting at the table. He wandered over in the hope of an update. She ignored his greeting and stared unblinking at the scroll.

That was…worrying.

"Are you okay? Did you get trapped in a loop again?"

A small shake of her head. She remained quiet for another minute.

Finally, she spoke, idly asking, "How hard are these worlds to take on, would you say?"

"Well, I've only done it once, so don't call me an expert, but the first one put me in Brockton Bay the day Leviathan attacked."

Tattletale winced, and mumbled under her breath. He caught a snippet.

"...there goes that idea…"

A second period of silence ensued. Longer, this time, as the girl struggled through a personal train of thought.

"But you survived," she declared.

"I did. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in front of you."

She nodded slowly. Jaune drew closer to see what had her so fascinated.

[Res— the screen winked out. Tattletale spun to face him, and he was taken aback by the serious expression with nary a smirk or grin. In another disturbing sight, that motormouth of hers worked to find the words to say.

"Hey. I've been thinking… You're obviously in over your head."

"Yes," he admitted. It was the simple truth, he can own up to that. But, while he may have yet to find his footing, his heart was set on this path for the sake of—

"Dueling Leviathan? Your dumb brain is going to get you killed one of these days. You need all the help you can get."

"Okay. It's getting a little mean now. You can stop bashing me anytime," he deadpanned. Thankfully, she did, and proceeded to the point.

"So, I've got an offer for you. I'm going to stick around, and lend you the benefit of my intellect."

Jaune blinked three times in rapid succession, before blurting out, "Hang on, really? I mean, not that I'm doubting your sincerity, but—"

She cut him off, continuing on as if oblivious. "In exchange, those Points you're gonna get? Allow me a share of it. I want to make a purchase."

Understanding dawned. Just as he did, she had found in the Marketplace the means of attaining her heart's desire.

Jaune pondered the merits of the proposal. The obvious detriment was having another mouth to feed, specifically in regards to Point gain. It would extend the timeline further than the current projection, which was already stretched too far for his taste.

Also, Tattletale; no more need be said on the matter.

As for benefits? Damn her for offering, because she was making sense. He was the guy whose winning play for attending Beacon started with defrauding the institution and ended with lies, lies, and more lies, with the cracks paved over by a copious amount of wishful optimism. Have a short-term problem, like a fight? Give him enough pieces to play with, and he can muddle through it one way or another. Ask him to build a roadmap spanning longer than a week, and watch him implode. He could use the support, someone whose brain he can pick for ideas.

And… It's lonely here, in this room of gray walls and white ceiling.

"If the offer is genuine, then I would welcome the company. Fifty/fifty split?"

"Good! I knew you'd see reason. Let's talk…shares…wait, did you say fif—I mean, DEAL! No take-backsies~" In a turnaround to make one's head spin, Tattletale was all smiles, positively bouncing in glee.

He overpaid, didn't he?

Peering down at the elated girl, Jaune mulled on the possible consequences should he, indeed, commit the sin of take-backsies squiggly line.

He forgot she was a borderline mindreader. Power activated, she studied his body language to detect the lingering indecision, and responded by doubling down on the show of earnest gratitude. Faker than fake, and oh so nostalgic, Annoying Blondes truly were the same in any universe.

A roll of his eyes conveyed his awareness of her ploy, followed by him putting out a hand.

"Happy to be working with you…hm, is it Lisa Wilbourn? Or Sarah Livsey?"

"Gasp!" She verbalized the sound. "I can't reveal my secret identity to my kidnapper!" The comment lacked bite, more teasing than snarky. All the while, the mask of her emotions kept slipping, falling back to this odd, sort of shell-shocked look, the grin permanently affixed.

"It can be Lisarah. Don't think I won't."

"Snrk. Fine." She took his hand, and shook on it. "Call me Lisa, ya goof."

---

Author's Notes: You know what they say, the real treasure was the friends you made along the way. Which is why, in a WC system, selling people is playing the game right; they're worth a lot more than piddly battlefield loot. The option for easy mode is always there, available at the click of a button.
.
A manipulator, sure. But a master manipulator? If she was, people's impression of Tattletale in canon wouldn't be 'that arrogant, insufferable know-it-all'.
.
What did Lisa see for sale? What does she wish for above all, but could never have? Those who read Worm might be able to take a guess. Otherwise, it'd take Jaune a while to find out.
.
Not everyone is familiar with the Waifu Catalog/CYOA genre, or Worm, or RWBY. So, if you have a question about it, do ask, since not everything can be expounded on in the narrative.

 

[Phantom Blaster]

My fucking god, Lisa and Jaune. They are much better together than I ever imagined, they are not better together instead they are much more stupid together and absolutely amusing to read.

 

[insertname099]

Tbh its still an incredible bit that because Rwby is an anime world the baseline attractiveness is much higher than in a more realistic aesthetic world like Bet, that Tattletale is just cute and not even that hot to Jaune. She's in an interesting spot character wise where she's a manipulative bitch but not so much that she's completely without scruples or morals, so Jaune doesn't have to worry about TT selling him off (if the pad even let's her). Thanks for the chapter!

 

[Alchto]

My fucking god, Lisa and Jaune. They are much better together than I ever imagined, they are not better together instead they are much more stupid together and absolutely amusing to read.

Click to shrink...

I disagree

 

[Alchto]

Lisa and Jaune are terrible put together because of Jaune's dense ass and Lisa's mental manipulations, might as well bend jaune over and fuck him in the ass since she's going to stab him sooner than you can say Shard

 

[Elite_Noob]

In the context of multiverse travel does having your aura unlocked make you more vulnerable to soul attacks ik it's not a common attack but plenty of stuff out there can do it