The sound of heavy breathing echoed through the dark, muggy alley as a lone figure ran through it. The sound of his footsteps shot away from his feet, ricocheted off of the walls of the stone buildings on either end, came back to him, and made one more attempt for the walls that died out and left nothing but a faint patter behind. He could feel a stitch stinging into his side, and his lungs felt heavy, despite how in shape they ought to be from his running so much normally.

He heard the slice of sharp metal rushing through the air behind him, and had just enough time to whip around his weapon and fired into the night. The sounds of ammunition meeting explosives was almost deafening in the silence, and he almost winced at the sound. Well, they had already found him, so no harm in a bit of noise now.

"He's over here! Come on!" A curse slipped through his teeth as he tried to run for it again. However, it appeared that, this time, his escape routes had run out. He was forced to jump backwards as the ground before his feet went up in fire and searing hot bits of gravel and asphalt. He gripped his weapon and fired again in the direction of his pursuers. By this point, though, just a few shots would not be enough.

A wall of whipping cloth caught his eye, and he glanced over to that side, only to see a painfully familiar red cloak off to his side. On his other side, he could see the glint of a metal chest-plate blocking his possible escape into the building through a window. Before and behind him were both blocked as well, by two who were wielding weapons and murderous, gleeful stares.

At last, he saw the crimson-cloaked figure off to his right approach, and he narrowed his eyes as he saw the moonlight reflecting off of her smiling, mirthless silver eyes.

"Looks like your luck has finally run out, Roman."

–

"Come on, Jaune, you can do it. Just focus your energy into your hands, it's not difficult. Just let it flow naturally." Jaune stared into his hands as Pyrrha's encouragements flowed into his ears. He could do it, he could, he just needed a bit of focus... He felt his chest tighten up, his hands tensed, his entire body aching and his head starting to feel looser and lighter... "Okay, Jaune, that's enough. Please stop holding your breath before you hurt yourself."

At last, Jaune let go of the breath he wasn't even aware that he was holding, and his hands fell into his lap as he panted heavily. His face returned to its normal color after a minute of catching his breath. When he finally had the air in his lungs for it, he groaned with disappointment in himself. Pyrrha reached over and gently patted his shoulder.

"Don't feel down on yourself, Jaune. You're improving immensely still. With just a bit more time and practice, I'm certain that you'll find your semblance any day now." Pyrrha smiled, trying to be encouraging, but Jaune only sighed tiredly.

"Any day now isn't a time, Pyrrha," he sighed. "The Vytal festival isn't too far off. I need to be able to fight, but I also have to be able to use my aura. And I can't do that right without being able to use my semblance. I'm getting better, but not fast enough." He gazed down at the roof beneath their feet, sighing heavily. Pyrrha looked at him with sympathy in her eyes, and gave him another pat before retracting her hand.

"You did well this evening, Jaune, I think we're done for the night. What you need now is some rest, and some of Ren's pancakes to lift your spirits again. What do you say?" She gave him a chipper smile, but Jaune just scratched his head a bit.

"...If it's all the same to you, Pyrrha, I think I'm gonna' go for a walk, clear my head a bit... Alone." Pyrrha's face fell a bit, but she nodded understandingly.

"...Alright then. Just come back to the dorm whenever you're done with your walk. I'll have Ren wrap your pancakes for you."

"Thanks, Pyrrha." The partners said their brief goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Jaune made his way out of the dorm building, through the courtyard, and eventually stopped at the fountain out in front of the school. He sat down on the concrete edge of the small structure, then sighed as he gazed into the water.

Oh, what was the point of it all, really? He was getting places, but not fast enough, and nowhere close to where he wanted and needed to be. He wasn't going to give up after all of this, that was for certain. Sometimes he just needed a little pity party for some reason, just to vent out the negative feelings. So he had one here, gazing down at his own reflection on the top of the fountain water.

However, there was something odd in the image he was seeing.

The French blond leaned down closer to the water, eyes narrowed as he tried to see what it was that was down there. He couldn't quite describe it really. There was something off with his reflection, or maybe it was something about the water? He really couldn't say what it was. He leaned in closer and closer, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what it was. Finally, his face hovering just an inch or so above the reflective surface, the tip of his nose just barely dipped into the water with just one last little lean forward.

In that moment, he felt as though something had grabbed onto the front of his sweat-shirt, and yanked him down and forward. He cried out, tried to backpedal and get away, but it was too late. He found himself falling forward into the image of himself, inexplicably grinning even as his own face was filled with fear and shock. Until, finally, he plunged face-first into a watery blackness.