I finally got a chapter done on time!

I was sick this week from the not-Rona, so I had plenty of time to get shit done. And I'm super happy with how this chapter turned out.

This chapter specifically will answer a lot of questions and will also set us onto the events of the next act. However, I will also give an explanation down in the second AN, so save your questions for there. (Also, Pasty is the German vampire that kicked the shit out of Jaune. Somebody had confusion about it, but I'm pretty sure I made that clear.)

I understand if these last two chapters are a bit confusing, but everything in this story has a purpose and is not put in there for shits and giggles.

I also have a DnD character you guys might like.

Jerrel. His quest is to find the greatest meatball sub in all the land.

But one more thing!

This story reached 700 followers!

That means I'm doing something right or 700 of you have really bad taste in writing!

The feeling of a hand tugging on Jaune's hoodie brought him out of his slumber. As his eyes snapped open to discern his location, they were met with the burn of saltwater. Nothing else could be seen as he was deep within the bay, far enough down that no light could penetrate the sea. The only thing he could follow was this phantom hand pulling him upwards.

Jaune chased after it, swimming towards the surface as fast as he could. Despite the depth at which he was submerged, his lungs did not feel the need for any oxygen—another testament to Jaune's newly found nature. His body wholly ignoring the mere desire to avoid drowning. Such a thing would have brought terror to Jaune only a few days ago.

Now, he only felt an eery calm wash over his body.

It was similar to the void left inside him the prior morning. That terrible sensation had been enough to elicit such horror several times over the day. Having woken up without any feelings to speak of made everything feel wrong if that explanation sufficed.

Jaune didn't the have the words to describe such a thing. Feeling hollow was the only word he could label it with. Or how one would feel when their actions led to a disappointing conclusion. His body was expecting one thing but was gifted with another, unable to determine what sensation was appropriate to express.

When he was fighting that girl on the bridge, Jaune felt like he had the entire world at his fingertips. He was having the greatest time of his life-consequences be damned. Like the moments he was hanging out with Ruby or dancing with the Ghost. It was everything to him, enough so, he allowed himself to focus on only one thing.

Upon surfacing from beneath the waves, Jaune was able to get a clearer picture of what was going on around him. The sight of the destroyed skyline of Vale was most evident. Millions of pounds of dust were kicked into the sky and the air surrounding the destruction, blocking the view for the most part.

She did that?

Jaune had seen the towers fall when he was dodging the giant's attacks. At the time, he hadn't really cared, losing himself in the battle, unable to consider the consequences of his actions. Jaune acted entirely on impulse in those moments. An invisible guiding hand inside of him, taking the wheel over his own rational thought. The pure desire to both defeat his enemy and please what he thought would be the Ghost's summons took control.

He was only able to perform one of those feats. The Ghost still remained invisible to his eye. Jaune was sure her hand was the one that woke him, however. A minor effort to bring him back from the brink once more? Jaune couldn't be sure that was the case. Yet, he wasn't even sure she was watching his performance go on any longer.

Jaune could not feel the audience's eyes on him. Their once vocal gasps had fallen silent, having watched such an act play out. A triumph of one's will over another. They were not sitting with bated breath, waiting for what came next.

Only a few moments ago, Jaune knew of their existence. It suddenly emerged without warning. Whether it be imagination or reality, Jaune could not truly understand. They appeared and disappeared with the performance, having been following the height and depths of action.

However, with this end, it only left Jaune back where he began. His actions tonight having done nothing to correct his circumstances. The audience had not given him the satisfaction he hoped for-no applause accompanied by the standing ovation he craved.

Swimming towards the nearby shore, Jaune could feel his body's frailty. There was not much left in the way of power to his disposal. Those twenty bodies had been almost entirely used up to fuel only a few attacks-two of which were exceptionally powerful. Enough to be wary of using without proper consideration.

Those two attacks were mere thoughts that Jaune had willed into existence. An instinct much like how he had been operating on the battlefield. It came so naturally to him, the boy didn't find them all that strange in his eyes.

What couldn't be strange when you were doing battle with colossi appearing from underneath a bridge, or vampires capable of annihilating an entire city block with one punch?

Jaune certainly had no idea. Tonight was something to be enchanted by; however, it was not that way for him. This battle felt like more of a shallow victory. Something that was almost too easy for him to achieve. It did not have the same effect as his battle with Pasty, even if he felt the exact opposite during the event.

As he pulled himself onto the southern shore, Jaune brought himself to his feet. He looked around once more, allowing the sounds of the city to fill his ears. Fire engines roared into the night sky, accompanied by police, and shouts of thousands of people. It was utter chaos, and Jaune was right in the centre of it. He immediately sprinted up to the retaining wall running along the edge of the beach and leapt over it.

Landing atop the ledge, Jaune looked around at the destruction in front of him. The entire port had been swept away, leaving a few ships and containers tossed about. Beyond that, residential buildings and businesses were left with minor damage from the wave. The same couldn't be said about the apartments on the shore opposite of Jaune. They were nearly flattened and taken into the sea.

*Ta-thump*

Jaune felt his heart beating loudly within his ears, echoing within his skull. The sound preceding a pain that shot through his entire body. It hit him with such a force that he nearly doubled over and fell to his knees. He went to grab his chest to attempt dulling the pain, but it would not work.

Blood...

He needed more.

Jaune shrugged off the burning sensation smouldering within his heart and trudged onward. The need for him to take blood once more had arisen—a familiar sensation he could understand. Unlike whatever had come over him upon his second meeting with the Ghost.

He walked a lone path into the destruction standing before him, feeling nothing aside from that unending calm. The equilibrium between achieving the satisfaction he so desired and the hollowness threatening to take him over. Jaune only snuffed out the errant thoughts, allowing him to once more concentrate on what he should be working towards.

[Deep in downtown Vale]

As Jaune wandered the streets of the city, he gazed upon its inhabitants. Men, women, and children - many were aimlessly meandering from place to place. All races and creeds marched onwards to a simple goal. Their only aim was to take their leave of this place and find comfort somewhere else.

While watching them, Jaune noted their expressions. There was hardly anything to call out. Every one of them was an emotionless husk, too shocked to muster up even a frown. Compared to Jaune, each of them was merely a shade—hunched over and devoid of any life. This notion allowed Jaune to stand taller than all. His stature remaining unyielding and determined. His eyes focused solely on moving forward.

The Valaens were running in the opposite direction Jaune was heading in. Where they fled terror, he charged headlong into it once again. It made the difference between them and Jaune even more apparent.

Jaune wanted to feel pity for these people. Yet, he couldn't. There was a distance between them and himself that prevented such a thing. What they had been put through compared to Jaune could not stand up to scrutiny.

Regardless, they were not assisting each other in their endeavour to escape. All were having a measly stroll through the streets of Vale. There was no such urgency. They were merely leaving a room too hot for their liking. Not one man or woman rose above the rest to guide these people to safety. There was not an ounce of courage to be found here.

A week ago, Jaune would like to think he would have been the one who blindly charged into the fray to assist these people. He saw it as the right thing to do. Not as some moral obligation, but because he wanted to help. One could say he was doing something similar; however, the boy had other things in mind.

His search for blood was not going as well as he would have liked. Jaune could not bring himself to massacre a group of random people to take their strength. He had to ensure he was defending himself or taking down another enemy to make that deed worth the effort.

Jaune's own morality was in shambles after battling Pasty either way. Everything he had once believed in had crumbled and fallen into ruin. Outside forces saw to that quite easily. Even a moral code with such simplicity as Jaune's could not withstand the test of time.

He didn't feel terrible for the people that got caught in the crossfire regardless of the loss. Jaune had not personally done the deed, reducing their lives to an abrupt end. He'd only been there to take what was left. That girl and Pasty were the ones who's actions led to those innocent's deaths. Without Jaune, such massacres would have taken place regardless of his presence—violence he had no real way of preventing.

Which is why he needed to scavenge from someplace where there would be bodies present. To prevent any further harm he might cause, Jaune was not going to look for a fight. It may have seemed hypocritical to suddenly avoid fighting when he has already assisted in the deaths of hundreds. Still, it's merely what Jaune wished for to prevent needless bloodshed after tonight.

How am I going to figure that out?

He only needed enough to defend himself if it came down to it. Jaune's desire to avoid any fighting would only go so far if he ran into his two adversaries once more. If that scenario played out, there was no viable way to prevent the deaths of innocent people. At least, not without allowing himself to nearly be killed.

Jaune pushed past another crowd and realised where he had ended up. It was that crossing where he had lost himself to the thirst—that place where he shouted the word 'Blood' in his head over and over again. Jaune could clearly remember every second of that episode. Such a thought made him feel nostalgic for the naivete he had once found himself in.

Back then, things were simple for Jaune.

Sure, having his heart broken was damage enough, but at least he didn't have to go through this intense suffering. Yet, that struggle made him feel as though he was on another level. Like he had transcended the Jaune of old and into another version of himself.

It was a confusing thing. Jaune's entire life had been upended after killing only a single man. His own power had become a part of Jaune's as well, allowing him to perform feats that no ordinary human could. To his former self, all of these things would have been laughable if another came to him with the information.

As Jaune looked around for a place to potentially scavenge bodies, several ideas had come and gone. The first and foremost was to investigate the site of the collapsed buildings along the coast but threw that idea out immediately. There would be a significant presence of police and rescue trying to search for people under the wreckage.

However, with the current location in which he stood, Jaune was gifted with an idea. The police had taken possession of the boy's first kill. They would have taken him to a morgue to discern the exact nature of his death. In that place, there would be dozens of other bodies awaiting examination.

With everything taking place tonight, the chaos would be the perfect distraction to slip inside and take what he needed. So, Jaune turned and walked in the direction of the Vale Police Department's nearest precinct. A familiar place where his father had once worked when he was still alive.

[Police Department]

Jaune emerged from within the shadow of a nearby alleyway. A swarm of bats having entered the passage shortly beforehand. Without much power left inside him, he needed to use it sparingly. Just the quick hop from a mile or two away left him too drained to wield Crocea Mors.

Where's the morgue?

He scanned the building, looking for any signs of guards and entrances that he could use.

The most obvious clue was the near lack of police cars within the parking lot. Only a few remained behind to man the station and take care of other duties. Jaune guessed the rest had gone to the bridge to search for survivors and to help coordinate their response. Knowing that, there would be a handful of police inside who might even notice the boy.

As Jaune continued staking out the building, he noticed the garage where many of the police vehicles would have gone to be serviced. Next to that, there was an adjacent building. It was on a lower level than the garage, connected to the basement, but there was a set of stairs leading down to it. What gave him the identity of the building was the large assortment of industrial air conditioning units attached to it.

A snort escaped his nose with the discovery. Jaune immediately moved from within his cover to cross the street. There were no people present or vehicles crossing the road which could give Jaune away. However, he still kept his hood flipped up to avoid the cameras. Even having the gumption to head into a den of lions, he still managed caution.

Jaune slipped past the glass windows at the front of the building, and around the corner where he had seen the morgue. His footsteps did not make a sound despite the sneaker's usually squeaky disposition. Any person who would have caught a glimpse of the boy may merely mistake his form for a shadow. The fleeting figure that vanished in the corner of your eye.

He walked boldly down the next passage, following a ramp that led to a side entrance on the morgue. The smell of cigarettes and old trash permeated the air here. Looking down to his right, Jaune found the door closed to him. He leapt over the railing, landing silently before it.

The hatch could only be opened from the inside without a key. There were no windows nearby that could be used to slip inside conveniently either. Jaune dared not to attempt the front door, risking being caught by any remaining officers. All he did, however, was cock back his right arm.

Slamming that fist into the steel plate sundered the door immediately. The entire thing bent backwards around his hand and was thrown off its hinges. Flying for almost five feet, the door crashed into a wall behind it, cracking the drywall with ease.

Jaune glanced down at his hand to find there was not a mark on it. His body's durability having increased a thousandfold despite the lack of blood in his system. Even yesterday, he was wounded by a punch from Cardin. During the fight with the killer, Jaune could not be touched by her own attacks, which only pushed him away.

That is when Jaune realised it. His body, mind, and soul had become hardened by the battles he had fought. Those poor souls he consumed were only a fuel used to summon his weapons.

When Jaune feared Pasty, he was still weak and able to be wounded by the much more powerful vampire. He had given up just when he was about to be killed. As Jaune was holding himself back, Cardin was capable of hurting him. Tonight, when he had fought the girl, Jaune was letting loose. He allowed himself to feel everything at that moment. He was not trying to run away out of fear, but instead gladly charged into battle. His will had become so powerful and his desire so ravenous that he could not falter in the face of his opponent. Her own will was not capable of matching Jaune's own.

After bringing himself to last night's apex, he was able to shift the forces of this world and bend them into those two attacks— Ich liebe alles, and Das Ewig-Weibliche zieht uns heinen. His will finally capable of altering Crocea Mors by force, without the need to speak an incantation.

Jaune continued, pressing onwards into the morgue. Passing through a winding hallway with adjacent rooms, he ignored them in search of the chamber where the bodies were held. The air smelled of chemicals, yet the faintest hint of blood remained. Such a stench could never be cleaned off the walls in this place, where the gore was spilt every day.

The smell became stronger as he followed the halls. Soon the aroma of bleach became more than a minor annoyance. It poisoned the air, making it difficult to breathe easily for Jaune. He shrugged it off, sniffing the air once more as he reached another hallway running perpendicular to the one he came from.

Looking left, Jaune noticed a pair of doors. There, the smell of blood was the strongest. He was sure that was the room where the autopsies were both held and the bodies stored.

He grasped the door handle and pulled on the metallic bar. The door snapped halfway across its width, opening up a hole for him to slide through. Jaune hadn't even meant to apply that much pressure. He tugged on the door handle lightly, hoping to open it just thinking it would be unlocked.

Inside the morgue, Jaune immediately made his way to the freezers. There were three rows of them along the wall. In the middle of the room were three tables where the bodies would have been placed for the coroners to examine. The clean steel slabs becoming the most ominous feature to behold.

Yet, Jaune passed right by them, heading to the first door in the middle row. He opened it to find the corpse of a woman resting within. Her pale skin was marred by cuts and swollen bruises all over her face. Clearly, she was the victim of a beating that ended up killing her.

He turned her head to the side, exposing her jugular and bit down onto her flesh. Jaune's fangs pierced the skin and began extracting the blood from within. As it graced his tongue, Jaune was nearly forced to reel back in disgust.

The boy expected to be delighted by the decadent ambrosia this woman would have given up. Instead, it was bitter. A foul flavour that mimicked the taste of rotting meat. Its age and decay obvious to the vampire's palate. Jaune continued despite this, extracting the last of the remaining blood in the woman's body.

He was not satisfied with the blood he had taken from her. The age of the liquid had probably destroyed whatever his body required. Even preserved, the age of the body still mattered.

Jaune wiped his face and moved onto the next locker. When he opened it, the smell of blood spilt out and into the air. The scent was unusually strong. So much, that he had to shield himself in fear of it. This odour reminding Jaune of the aura Pasty gave off.

The strength of this blood and the aura the German vampire produced were the same thing. Yet, they were so different, one could mistake the former for something else entirely. It didn't have that vile miasma floating about it. Only, it was the scent another vampire had given off. Not of hostility either.

Pulling the rest of the drawer out, Jaune took a look at the person inside. He was an older middle-eastern man in his thirties. The man had a cleanly cut beard done into a line-up with a buzzcut for a hairstyle. Those paired with the cheekbones and general structure of his face made him out to be quite handsome. Someone that would be able to take the centre of the room and attract all of the attention onto himself. Or someone that you wouldn't feel any sense of danger around, given a false sense of security by the unassuming man.

Methuselah...

His ancient bones had long stood against the test of time. Whether it be for hundreds or thousands of years, he remained. Countless nations had arisen and fallen within the span of his life. He was another wanderer, destined to walk the Earth for millennia. Only now, had he finally fallen.

The errant thought appeared in Jaune's mind. He realised that was the name of the man lying before him. His vampiric name. Akin to what was bestowed upon Jaune.

Yet, Jaune felt that the power the man radiated was but a shadow of what he formerly possessed. Alive, he would have been such a danger that no mortal man could have hunted him. Jaune suspected he may have been even more powerful than Pasty.

The boy looked over the body lying before him for what lead to his death. There was not a single mark on his tanned torso, however, as Jaune examined the rest of his frame, he found it. A single bullet wound exiting the other side of his skull. Methuselah killed by a projectile fired from an unknown firearm.

Who killed you?

Jaune didn't even attempt to answer the question as he had no clue. There was not a weapon he knew of that could render a vampire so powerful dead. Only, if that were a typical rifle. If the hunter used something with the same magic Jaune possessed, then it would be possible.

He had wounded Pasty with Crocea Mors, after all.

Without hesitation, Jaune turned the man's head to the side, exposing his jugular vein. He clamped his teeth down around his throat and began draining the blood from his body.

*Ta-thump*

Jaune felt his heartbeat within his ears once more. The surge of power that came through him was unimaginable, dwarfing the twenty people he drank from earlier. His own body felt like it would shatter into a million pieces, the vessel too small to contain all of the power.

*Ta-thump*

His heart beat heavily as the pressure mounted. Pain coursed through Jaune's entire body. The borders of his vision grew a red hue that slowly encompassed his field of view. Despite the pain, however, Jaune forced himself to bear it, taking every ounce of power Methuselah contained within himself.

*Ta-thump*

The corpse disintegrated into ash—a blue flame taking over the entire body in mere seconds. The particles falling through Jaune's hands as the last drop of blood left Methuselah's body.

Jaune's vision darkened suddenly. He could not see anything. The rest of his body was disconnected from his mind.

[Unknown Location]

Jaune opened his eyes to find himself sitting inside a massive room. His head was propped up on his right fist, held up by the armrest of the chair in which he resided. The boy's right leg crossed over the left as he leaned back. A set of long blackened robes hanging from Jaune's limbs draped over the edge of the seat.

Jaune looked around to inspect the room where he ended up. This place reminded him of the ballroom he dreamt of the previous night. Only now, Jaune was in a long rectangular room instead of the dome from the ball.

The walls were decorated with hundreds of skeletal figures—each of them a relief created as an amalgamation of thousands of beasts or men. Accompanying those skeletons were the statues of heroes wearing their battle armour. They all stood proudly in various poses with other soldiers or beasts they had slain. Every single carving was golden, constructed out of the same metal as the colossus.

As Jaune turned his gaze to the centre of the room, he caught the attention of its inhabitants. All were garbed in the same black outfit he wore, yet, their faces were obscured by a dark miasma—this same fog which covered the killer. By the hundreds, each turning to face the boy while staring at him with maddened expressions.

The vampire sat on a throne resting atop a massive staircase, only seven steps high. On each of the lower platforms rested two additional thrones arranged in an arc. Those twelve were all occupied except for one. Jaune's throne, the thirteenth, was the only seat to remain alone.

Jaune's throne was constructed from solid gold, same as the rest of the building. It was carved with the figures of both the lion and the eagle—the two beasts creating the armrests where his limbs rested. On the backrest, above Jaune's head, was a massive statue in the same style as the throne. In the centre, was a nimbus with two crescents carved into it.

The two thrones on the descending step were just as glamorous. The one to Jaune's right was a mixture of gold and white. Gold used to accent the white. All over this statue were carvings of snowflakes. These elaborate runes far exceeding the ordinary beauty of any earthly snow, however. This same symbol carved into the chair above her head. The entire throne was also coated in a thin layer of frost, seemingly frozen to the touch.

The occupant of the throne was so much more beautiful in comparison. Her small figure was overshadowed by the chair, making it seem as though it was built for a large man instead of a woman. However, her figure was not the centre of attention. The pair of angelic wings on her back made her appear to be an angel. Their feather glowing with radiant white light.

If only her face was not concealed by the miasma.

In contrast to the gentle aura of the right throne, the left was much more chaotic. Whatever designs had once been carved into the chair were long since melted. There was no emblem to speak of either. No twin crescents or snowflake. Only a deluge of the red metal her throne was constructed from.

Looking at it from a distance, the throne could have been boiling. No person aside from the current occupant would have been able to withstand the heat. Even the woman sitting in the seat had this same air about her. She was the killer who Jaune had fought last night.

On every other throne, each had their own designs and emblems attached to them. All of their occupants were either men or woman, ranging from a large sturdily-built man to a petite young woman. The individuals were powerful in their own right. Yet, none could compare to the Red, White, and Gold.

However, this last throne sat empty. Its place on the bottom right step. The design was plain and almost dull compared to the others. It was still constructed from gold, yet bore black highlights crisscrossing the metal. There was an emblem on this throne, though. An elaborate white and black cross. It was the only thing which spoke about the occupant in any way.

The sound of the doors leading into the chamber opening drew Jaune's gaze towards the centre of the room. The blackened masses standing there parted, leaving a place for the newest actor's entrance. It was the Ghost. Her body's aura flared, creating a glow that lit up the area around her.

She walked gracefully towards the throne with confidence unmatched. It seemed as though the shades standing around her did not phase her in any way. Her sole focus was on the occupant resting in the highest throne. The feeling of her eyes on him made Jaune feel a sense of unease.

Yet, as she made her way towards him, Jaune's mind began to fill with hundreds of questions.

Who was she?

Why did she save his life?

What does she want from him?

However, none of those questions compared to what flew from his mouth.

"What is the path I am meant to tread upon," he asked. Jaune's voice echoed throughout the entire hall, drawing the full attention of the girl. His speech dripped with that same unearthly charisma he beheld during the fight with Red.

Jaune did not know what to do. He was lost in this sea of confusion and dread. By luck, or perhaps chance, he was able to be sent to this place. The only location in this entire world or beyond that made any real sense. Even if the madness of this castle was enough to drive the normal man insane, Jaune would bear with it.

The Ghost's only response was to wave her hand gently as if sending away a servant. With that gesture, Jaune's vision darkened once more, and he was whisked away from the castle.

[Forest]

"Come on, Pyr," a young boy shouted to the person below him. His scraggly blonde locks whipping with the movement of his head. As the girl got the message, the boy turned back to the wall he was grasping onto, continuing to scale it.

Underneath Jaune, was Pyrrha. Her brilliant red hair was let loose and flowing in the wind. She wore a cream coloured blouse and pair of blue jeans with sneakers. The girl's clothes covered in dirt-same as her companion.

The two were climbing up a small ledge where a creak had carved one out. Next to them was the flowing tide of water, spilling out over the edge. The few trees growing above them gave a series of roots for the children to grasp onto. Even with the handholds, the entire surface was coated in a thick layer of both clay and mud.

With how slick the surface was, Pyrrha had a harder time scaling the face than Jaune did. The boy's strength factored into it much more; however, the redhead was determined. She grasped onto the thickest roots she could wrap her hands around and pulled herself up. Once off the ground, she reached up again to try lifting herself even farther.

However, the root had other ideas. Pyrrha grabbed the weakest one she could by accident. The sound of the wood cracking under her weight brought a terrified yelp from within her. She tried to grab onto another root, but could not get a grip. Her hand slipping on the one she went for, causing her to begin falling backwards.

Pyrrha let out another yell, but a hand reached down and grabbed onto her's. She looked up to see Jaune staring back down at her with a confident grin. His piercing cobalt eyes squinting along with his smile.

"You need a hand," Jaune asked in a way that couldn't sound cheesy. The line brought out a blush from the girl, which forced her to hide her reaction. Jaune took the change in expression as embarrassment, pulling Pyrrha up to his level.

The force behind the tug ended up causing Pyrrha and Jaune to tumble onto the ground. Jaune fell onto his back and Pyrrha falling onto her stomach right next to him. The two kids letting out a giggle at their fumble.

Pyrrha pushed herself off the ground, dusting off her clothes. She looked over to Jaune, flashing him a smile and he did the same in return. Jaune immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her to his intended destination.

"Where are we going," Pyrrha asked in a curious tone.

By now, Jaune's pace had turned into a jog which Pyrrha had to match to keep up. The boy's slightly taller stature made for a more challenging pursuit. For every step Jaune made, Pyrrha had to make two or three more to match the distance he covered.

"You'll see, it's a surprise," Jaune answered excitedly.

Coming around a bend in the creek, the two arrived at their destination. It was a flat clearing next to the water. Despite the proximity, the ground was grassy and dry. A few trees bordered this area but refused to grow within it.

Near the edge of the clearing sat a throne. The chair was elevated by several flat stones stacked upon one another. The seat itself was made from sticks and logs lashed together. A primitive design, but one of sound construction.

Just opposite of the throne were several logs moved into rows. On each of them were toys. They were stuffed animals, action figures, dolls, or any other random figurine Jaune could collect. Their presence creating a royal court of sorts or an audience at a theatre.

"Here, sit down," Jaune beckoned, pulling Pyrrha over to the throne.

She complied, hesitantly sitting down on the wooden chair. It creaked and settled with the added weight, but did not falter. Pyrrha leaned back into the chair, feeling comfortable that it would not collapse under her. A smile stretching across her lips with her new position.

As Jaune was sure Pyrrha's throne would fall apart, he turned to face a group of invisible figures. They were standing away from the stuffed animals, but Jaune switched his attention between the two.

"Listen," Jaune spoke up with confidence. "You and I are in the centre stage! Let us perform the finale of this first act! We cannot leave them waiting!"

Pyrrha smiled at the over the top way Jaune was speaking. She would have laughed, but it would throw off his concentration.

"Empress Pyrrha," Jaune continued, turning to the girl to address her directly. "I, Jaune Arc, your emperor, have received news of bandits approaching the kingdom! What is your command?! My knights and I are at the ready!"

[Jaune: The Morgue]

That memory was from a few weeks before Jaune left Vale six years ago. He and Pyrrha were not able to continue that adventure beyond those final lines. The entire world they created became trapped in a state of limbo, unable to move forth. Their entire audience refused a finale they deserved.

Upon seeing that vision, Jaune understood everything that led him up to this moment. Everything that transpired between the Ghost's appearance in the ballroom and now was clear. No longer was it some fever dream, but a true realisation.

Leaving Vale and being unable to continue the adventure was the first moment Jaune became dissatisfied. The first appearance of this hollowness he was stricken with. Such a feeling would never change. Not in six years had he been satisfied with his life.

Everything Jaune attempted to do ended in failure. The boy was dissatisfied with all of his efforts no matter their outcome.

For a reason the Jaune of old could not understand, he was dissatisfied with every facet of his life.

He could not find joy in creating things and showing them off to his family.

He could not be proud of acing a test and being congratulated by his parents.

He was unhappy about the man he was becoming. Dissatisfied that he could not compare to the idea he idolised. Hating the self-conscious young man who tried his damndest to mimic the others around him because he could not fit in.

Jaune had been lying to himself every day of those six years. He thought he was genuinely happy. He closed his heart off to what he truly felt in an attempt to disguise the pain. In a way, that could be his only success. Yet, that still didn't mean he was happy with it.

Indeed, the Ghost had not stolen his emotions but removed the veil for something else to blossom within.

The sounds of footsteps coming from down the hall brought Jaune out of his thoughts. Two sets of boots clicked against the linoleum floors. They were not yet in sight of the broken doors leading directly into the morgue. By their movements, the two were casual about coming to this place.

"Yeah, the damn alarm is going off again..."

"That thing is really a piece of shit... Somebody probably left a door open, and the wind caught it."

"Hey, if you want to complain about it, take it up with the lieutenant... With all those explosions going on, he'll probably get right on it just for you!"

"The fuck?! Somebody broke the door to the morgue!"

The two officers quickly cleared the distance between themselves and the double doors. A swipe of a keycard and the right door opened to permit them entry. They swept the room before turning their attention towards the open drawers.

"Holy shit," the first officer cursed, raising his gun to the vampire.

The sight of the blood-soaked maw and obscured face made the man quake in terror. Jaune's mouth cracked open slightly, producing the sharpened fangs to the officer. He yelped in fear, taking a full step back along with his partner.

Without warning, he pulled the trigger to his handgun, firing off a single round in Jaune's direction. The vampire disappeared from his perspective, leaving behind only a motion blur as the bullet passed right through his position. As the boy vanished, the two officers began to spin about wildly, trying to get a bead on their opponent.

Jaune reappeared in front of the second officer, punching him directly in the chest. His bullet-proof vest absorbed most of the impact from the punch; however, the man still felt every ounce of the pressure behind it. He was lifted off the ground and thrown to the wall ten feet behind him.

The first officer turned his gun on Jaune, firing another two rounds at his upper body. Jaune sidestepped the bullets, allowing them to hit the wall before dashing towards the man. He then proceeded to deliver a solid jab to his stomach, launching him down the hallway from where he came. The officer tumbled the entire way before slamming into another wall and being knocked unconscious.

I've always felt like this?

Knowing the truth about his feelings was a hard thing to swallow. The lie he had been living in was so ingrained to the boy known as Jaune Arc, he could hardly see it the other way. Even if Jaune was unsatisfied with his life, he still loved every moment of it. This life was the only one he had been granted. Its value to him was beyond compare, which is why he wanted to make it one of worth.

Jaune turned and began walking down the hallway. He passed by the police officer slumped over onto his side. The boy ignored the man, continuing on through the corridors leading to the first floor of the police department. The halls abandoned and utterly devoid of life.

That reason was why he fought so hard to win it back. This life and everything in it was precious to Jaune. Despite the way he had been so unhappy with it, looking back on those memories brought the feeling of joy to his heart. They were the parts that made Jaune who he was right now.

Even if he was never able to become the right hand of the Empress, Pyrrha,

Even if he never fought an army with his knights at his side,

Even if he was never able to live within the fantasy world he so desired,

Jaune would have still loved his life with all his heart.

That was the only raison d'etre he needed. The world as it existed created that template. And thus, it was also his limitations.

Because I love everything.

Ich liebe alles - I love everything...

I love every man, woman, and child under the sun.

Every blade of grass and every pebble scattered on the beach.

The mountains and the frozen forests adorning their peaks.

I love to love.

I love to hate.

I love feeling anguish.

I love to feel my triumph over those who stand to oppose me.

To create and to destroy.

I love it all...

Jaune passed through the front doors of the police station. As he left the building, a blinding light switched on, aimed directly at his face. Jaune did not attempt to shield himself from the glare, finding it to be a genuine surprise.

Was it always that same dream?

To be the hero from that fantasy?

I was playing out the battle I had foretold to Pyrrha.

Were my knights at my side?

No, they were not...

Even if Jaune could not change what was. It didn't mean he couldn't change what is, or what will be. That future was open to any manipulation he so desired.

"On your knees!"

A voice caught Jaune's attention.

He looked beyond the blinding light to find nearly thirty US soldiers standing behind armoured vehicles. Their firearms were all trained on the boy, including the fifty-calibre turrets on top of the trucks. Each soldier wearing the heaviest armour possible for an ordinary man to carry. In fact, the armour was nothing like Jaune had ever seen before. It was a metallic shell that appeared only in science fiction.

I've always wanted to be a hero. However, this world was not built for me. I do not belong in a place like this.

I need a place where I can create wonders. To play out this fantasy with nothing holding me back.

Even if I need to destroy what I love to create something new, I am okay with that.

"Get on the ground!"

The sounds of soldiers chambering their rifles echoed in Jaune's ears.

Crocea Mors.

The blade formed within his right hand. Its sudden appearance caused the soldiers to panic. They each shouted orders at the boy, dictating what he should do. They were all ignored.

I wasn't until one of them fired his rifle that the rest let loose at once. The turrets began to spit out fifty-calibre rounds which could tear a man to pieces in seconds. Hundreds of bullets sailing towards Jaune faster than the eye could see. The boy did nothing to step aside or to even flee this scenario.

However, the bullets all stopped at once, three feet in front of Jaune. They each impacted an invisible barrier that would not allow anything through. With every ricochet, a small ripple appeared in the field. It wasn't until Jaune looked closer what created it finally manifested.

A line of men carrying shields materialised in the path of the bullets.

Upon closer inspection, they were no ordinary men. These men were soldiers of the Roman Legions. They stood as one, defending the man behind them. Their wall of Legion steel could not falter.

They stared on at the soldiers with tempered hearts—their disciplined execution of the shield wall without equal. None could show fear as there was none to be had. These enemies were simply a nuisance that could not break their iron will.

Each of their eyes burned gold, glowing in the darkness.

Was the lion, King of the Jungle, given its claws and fangs to break an egg open?

Did the hawk use its mighty wings to raise an insect crawling underground?

No, for those creatures and myself were meant for greater things.

Jaune glanced down at his left hand, balling it into a fist. The sound of his skin rubbing against itself emanated from within.

The Emperor...

That is who I am meant to be,

The path I was meant to tread upon.

Then what does 'Das Ewig-Weibliche zeiht uns heinen' mean to me?

The Eternal Feminine shall lead us on high?

The Eternal Feminine shall lure us in?

The Eternal Feminine shall lead us to heaven?

The Eternal Feminine.

Love.

Love shall be my salvation...

Jaune approached the top of the staircase leading to where the soldiers were.

That surge of emotions I felt as a child—the ability to make an attack on the impossible head-on.

That young boy still exists within me, and we both share the same dream. It has always been so.

If that is true, then I will create a world befitting this notion. I shall bring heaven to the Earth I love so dearly.

It will be a monument to all of man's talents—both creation and destruction. Where they can rise to their fullest potential and explore endless possibilities. A kingdom where they can achieve perfection, same as I.

This place shall be a world where you, my unearthly companion, can appear. This work of art shall reflect your own magnificence.

"The Pax Romana," Jaune muttered under his breath. "Upon that day, I shall have my satisfaction. Able to look back on everything that brought me here and then continue onto the next great work that calls to me."

Ich liebe alles!

Crocea Mors shifted into the white and gold lance. Golden light radiating from its blade, forcing the soldiers to shield their eyes from the glare. Some ducked beneath their vehicles and hid from the vampire out of genuine fear.

"If one-hundred battles yield no victory, then I shall fight a thousand," Jaune continued, stopping just halfway down the stairs. His expression was one of deep contemplation, ignoring the threat in front of him. "If not a thousand, then I will fight ten-thousand. I will continue to struggle for however long is needed until I am capable of bringing this world into our reality. To walk this road until its utmost conclusion and then compose an opera that belongs to only me at its end. For repeating this slander of the highest order is something I shall not allow."

Jaune cocked back his lance, forcing a golden light to coalesce at its tip.

"To those who seek to stand against me," Jaune addressed an unknown audience. "I offer you only this... Spare O God, in mercy spare him. Lord all-pitying, Jesus blest, grant them thine eternal rest. Amen..."

Das Ewig-Weibliche zeiht uns heinen!

Jaune swung his lance out in a wide arc. The legionaries standing before him were dispelled as the lance passed through them. Any energy amassed within the weapon was discharged into a wave. The attack was directed towards the street a few metres in front of the soldiers. As this wave of energy passed into the asphalt, an explosion from deep underground shook the entire block. The road suddenly jutted out from underneath the soldiers, throwing them all back at once and tipping over their vehicles.

As the soldiers were now disabled, Jaune turned in the direction of his house and bolted that way. The concrete under his feet was shattered by the force of his footsteps, as well as getting kicked up from behind him. His pace could not be discerned from an outside perspective, appearing as only a blur. The shockwave left in his wake shattered every window he passed by.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the darkness about two hundred feet in front of him. He was a dark-skinned faunus, bearing a dog's tail coming out from under his uniform. His behaviour appeared nonchalant about the vampire's approach. He only pointed towards Jaune with his index finger.

"Stay," he uttered.

With that command, Jaune froze solid. Not within ice, but as if time stopped relative to him. His body was a statue formed from flesh. It was every bit as life-like as the real thing.

Several more figures stepped out from the darkness. They each bore their own weapons, all trained on Jaune. Every one of them was clearly nervous about the creature they stood before. The one who froze Jaune in place did not reflect their attitude.

"Marrow," the shortest one exclaimed. "Be careful with this one! We don't know everything he's capable of!"

The faunus turned around and offered her a smile.

"Don't worry, I got this..."

He muttered something else under his breath, and a black substance took over his arm. The metal ate away at his uniform, causing it to disintegrate by the threads. Once his entire arm was encapsulated in the metal, a long, curved blade erupted from the top of his forearm—the design of this weapon similar to a reverse khopesh.

He cocked back his arm and launched it towards Jaune's neck. However, instead of slicing the neck in twain as a weapon should have, the blade stopped dead in its tracks. It was as if the sword hit a stone wall.

The soldier named, Marrow, looked on in shock. When Jaune's left hand rose from his side, gripping the blade, he was frozen. Jaune offered him an entertained grin, applying what seemed to be minimal pressure, and the weapon exploded into millions of pieces. The entire thing crumbling as though it were made from glass.

"Oh, shit..."

Marrow vaulted back, cocking his arm and balling his fist. Before Jaune could move, he leapt forward, aiming that attack directly at his centre mass. Just when he was about to reach the vampire, he disappeared only to reappear right next to him.

Jaune delivered a brutal uppercut to Marrow's stomach, causing him to vomit up blood. The force from this blow lifted Marrow a foot or two into the air. Jaune dashed to the side, cocking back his right arm to follow it up.

Marrow caught a glimpse of what was under that hood, seeing a golden flame burning above Jaune's eye. It flared in intensity once as the vampire propelled his fist back into Marrow's gut. The two connected, launching him nearly eighty feet away and into a nearby building.

"You bastard!"

The short one dove forward with her right fist balled up. The hand encapsulated in a similar black metal as Marrow's. She, however, seemingly radiated electricity. The sparks jumped from her skin, dancing about the area with little reason.

When she threw that fist, Jaune stepped to the side. She turned around and tried to throw another, but the vampire already made his move. With two fingers, he thrust them into her left eye, hooking them onto the eye socket to get a grip. Jaune picked her up from there and threw her into the ground, causing the asphalt to crack from the force.

The woman screamed from the pain she was in. Blood spilling out from her eye socket, she reached up to her face to apply pressure to the wound. Two of the other soldiers were already by her side, trying to attend to their fallen comrade.

Jaune turned in the direction he had initially been travelling in and began walking there. In his way, there was another soldier. She was a mountain of a woman, standing well over Jaune's height. The warhammer she wielded was an even more intimidating sight.

"Out of my way," Jaune scoffed as he delivered a backhand to her left cheek. The sheer force behind the blow threw her in the same direction as Marrow. The sound of glass breaking followed.

[The next morning]

Rising from his bed, Jaune stretched his limbs. The satisfying sound of the joints popping echoed throughout the small room. Already, he could hear the Arc household was abuzz with activity. It prompted him to grab his Scroll and head into the bathroom.

Flicking on the light, Jaune was met with his reflection in the mirror.

Where his eyes had once been a brilliant cobalt blue, they no longer remained such. His irises were not the dark orange gifted to him by the vampirism either. Jaune's eyes were bright gold.

Jaune beat the shit out of ace-ops and fucked their chicken!

So, Jaune is going to really go back to his normal self after this (The Jaune from the previous chapters who's closer to his canon behaviour.) This realisation will only change a few things, but how he acts will not be touched too extensively.

Okay, there's a lot going on here, so I'm gonna break it down for you. I usually don't do this in depth, but I feel like it's necessary.

So, the idea of dissatisfaction and wanting to be a hero are central to Jaune. In the canon, Jaune loves his life (I suspect, although it isn't mentioned in Vol 1) however he is also dissatisfied with his circumstances and not being able to get the training needed to be a huntsman. His utmost desire is to become a hero as well like his father. Those two are intertwined due to the extremely high standards Jaune set for himself which gives him that disatisfaction with his life.

I turn that notion up to a twenty.

When Jaune wasn't able to enjoy the fantasy of being a hero in this world, he was very dissatisfied with how it turned out. The standard he held that adventure to made sure everything else could not bring him true joy. It eventually reached the point where he lied to himself without knowing about it to cover up the pain. The Ghost, when she came to Jaune in the ballroom removed that limitation, making him feel hollow and dissatisfied in ch 14. After that point, Jaune was now playing out a part of the fantasy without knowing it as well in the last chapter. (What kind of person speaks like Jaune does in chapter 15. A child would act in this over the top manner when playing.)

That brings us to his two attacks. Ich liebe alles in german means I love everything. Jaune loves his life so much despite how dissatisfied he is with it. That love extends to everything in his life. Why? Jaune has connected back to his childhood self. Children are so curious about the world that they are looking for every stimulus available to them. They live for the experience and love it. Jaune does as well. The battles he's been through have only tempered that even further making him understand how valuable his life is to him.

Now since the Ghost has shown Jaune he is meant to be the Emperor from his fantasy, Das Ewig-Weibliche zeiht uns hinan comes into play. As Jaune loves everything in this world, the qoute from faust can also mean that love/beauty/purity is man's salvation, so using those two, Jaune had deemed it necessary to bring heaven to earth in the form of his great work, The Pax Romana (he uses Caesar's weapon, so it has to be that). This idea is also of a fantasy world from the RWBY canon as well. (It was mentioned in the OST for the second season.) The Pax Romana is a place where people can achieve their absolute potential like any fairy tale world allow.

This idea is also reflective of the childhood propensity to create art, so that is why Jaune is going to create this world.

All in all, Jaune has connected back to his childhood self. Mix that with sucking off a frozen corpse of a four-thousand year old dead guy who's probably stronger than Pasty, and you get someone who's literally going to do Philosophy with a hammer.

It's a lot at once, but I really didn't feel like drawing this out over multiple chapters because it would not work out as well as I would like.

Encyclopedia of MAJMLYAI.

Vampires:

Jaune

Aliases: Leonhardt, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown

Familiars: Crocea Mors, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown

People Consumed: 30

Major Arcana: The Emperor.

Pasty

Aliases: Element Unknown

Methuselah

(He ded.)

Friends/Allies:

Ruby

Aliases: Element Unknown

Yang

Aliases: Element Unknown

Pyrrha

Aliases: Element Unknown

Weiss

Aliases: Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown, Element Unknown

Blake

Aliases: Element Unknown