Author's note: I have nothing against Emerald's character. I am actually interested to see whether or not she comes to terms with her misconstrued perception of love for Cinder. Props to Mercury for calling her out on it too.

And to Hecseferblade regarding our conversation: Future-Ren would've probably been a better choice to send back in time.

Chapter XI

About a week had passed since Beacon's academic days began, and though it meant the Vytal Festival was a week closer, it also meant Beacon's students were only a week into their shotgun-semester of crammed courses. Unsurprisingly, all of Beacon's students were encumbered by crushing mental burnout in some way or form. Mumbling gripes and curses over the academy's decision to fast-forward its curriculum instead of lessening the workload could be heard regularly throughout the campus. But for all their complaints, the students knew complaining wouldn't earn them a passing grade, to which they grudgingly pushed on.

In the massive chamber of the dinning hall, the collective majority of RWBY and JNPR sat in their usual spot near the windows, albeit an onlooker could easily swap the term 'sat' with 'collapsed' at a glance.

"This. Is. Torture," Nora groaned. She had long since given up trying to study and had hunched her head against her textbook in defeat.

Beside her, with eyes straining to concentrate on comprehending borrowed notes, Ren reached over and placed a hand on his teammate's shoulder. Nora's only response was an exaggerated sob.

"Why would they do this?" Yang griped from across the table, "How do they expect us to do all this schoolwork and train for the Vytal Festival?"

From the other end, Pyrrha paused from correcting her hasty notes, "I'm sure the teachers wouldn't have given us this much coursework if they didn't think we could handle it."

Yang jolted to lash out with a retort but stopped herself. She instead resorted to raking her hair with an exasperated sigh, blankly staring off into a distant place. Pyrrha saw her friend's distress and conceded with an understanding smile.

"Although, the amount of homework does seem a bit excessive," the champion girl admitted, reluctantly turning back to her notes.

"Yeah no kidding, P-Money," Yang snapped, her hands slamming against her textbook and rocking the table. Seeing Pyrrha's wince made Yang mutter a quick apology.

"No need to blow a fuse, Yang," Blake consoled beside her. Yang glanced over at her partner and found the Faunus girl brewing a new cup of tea. The three opened textbooks set off to the side testified to Blake's study efforts. The blonde could only sigh and rub her temples.

"I don't see why you all are complaining," Weiss chided. Everyone's gaze turned to the Schnee heiress writing in her notebook and sipping coffee. She looked considerably less stressed than the rest of them. Weiss paused from her homework and met each of their stares.

"What?"

"How are you not burned out?!" Yang asked.

"Proper time management."

"Aren't you taking high level courses?"

"Yeah, like that Dust-Advancing-app-class."

"Advanced Dust Applications," Weiss corrected, "and to answer the first question: I started working on my classwork precisely a week ago to avoid burnout."

Yang groaned, "Figures."

Weiss grimaced, "If it makes you feel any better, I am being assisted with one of my classes. I can help tutor anyone if they'd like."

"Uughh, I might just take you up on that offer Weiss," Yang conceded.

Meanwhile through the conversation, the prodigious young leader of Team RWBY was slummed over on the table holding an empty milk bottle and a box of cookies. The poor girl had tried her best, but the week-long stress of classwork and training had finally knocked Ruby out. Either that or she was napping off a sugar crash. But between her lapses of consciousness, Ruby managed to notice something missing from the table.

Ruby pulled herself out of her daze with a yawn, "Guys, have any of you seen Jaune?"

Everyone turned their heads to the empty space where the inexpert leader of Team JNPR normally sat. He had been absent the whole time, but only now with Ruby mentioning it did the seven of them really take note. The four members of Team RWBY exchanged curious looks before turning to the members of Team JNPR who shared concerning expressions.

Finally, Pyrrha hesitantly broke the silence, "Jaune's been training with Arc lately."

"Oh," Ruby said, "thought I'd ask, cause it feels like we haven't seen him in a while."

Nora lifted her head, "Same here! The only times I've seen him is when he gets back way late at night. Ren shares a class with him and even he says Jaune is dead."

"Dead tired," Ren corrected.

"Nngh, same thing!"

"Huh," Blake said, "but how's Jaune managing his classes with extra training?"

Pyrrha lowered her gaze, "Arc convinced Professor Ozpin to pull Jaune from all but the minimum number of classes needed for enrollment to free up more time for train."

It was a combination of Ruby, Nora and Yang who erupted at the statement, "WHAT?!"

"That's totally unfair!"

"Why does he get to get out of classes?!"

"Lucky!"

"Why can't my future-self pull me out of classes?!"

"I wouldn't be too jealous," Pyrrha said, "Arc's training schedule is rather...severe."

Everyone at the table took in the weight of her words. The undefeated Mistralian champion was calling the training severe.

"But, it's all for the future, right?" Ruby asked.

"I suppose," Pyrrha said, "but there're definitely better ways of going about it; ways that don't involve leaving Jaune too exhausted for anything."

"Well I for one think this is exactly what Jaune needs," Weiss said.

Everyone glanced at Weiss, whom earned a muddled groan from Ruby.

"Arc is bringing out the potential in Jaune," the heiress continued, "and if that means Jaune must undergo rigorous training and adversity, I say let him do so. Take Blake for an example-"

Blake interjected, "Let's not involve me."

Weiss waved her off, "My point is that adversity is the best method for bringing out a person's potential. For example, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am without overcoming the adversity life has thrown at me."

Nora snickered, "Yeah, but Arc isn't trying to turn Jaune into a Schnee heiress here."

Weiss blinked, "What?"

"I better go check on him tonight," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah definitely," Yang added, "we already have enough on our hands with one Weiss-cream around."

"Hey!"

"Don't worry Weiss," Blake said, "I'm sure Arc will turn Jaune into a fine heiress like you."

"That's not what I meant!"

Ruby giggled, "If Arc turns Jaune into Weiss, does that mean I get to have two partners?"

The study session rapidly descended and derailed from that point onward.

The staircase noiselessly daunted Pyrrha with each step she took. It wasn't the staircase she ascended many times before that made Pyrrha falter in each step, but rather the knowledge of what lay ahead. There was no doubt she'd find Jaune locked in whatever rigorous training his future-self was forcing him through. The term 'rigorous' seemed, however, too light for a proper description. She knew well what Arc's training sessions were really like back when she attended them. Maybe she should have changed and brought her weapons along?

Pyrrha found herself slowly coming to a standstill at the thought of the cybernetic knight. Though she had not mention it during the study session earlier, Pyrrha had stopped attending Arc's training sessions after the night he revealed all their futures. She hadn't seen Arc since, what with his mere presence serving as a reminder of what was coming.

A future where Beacon Academy fell and an empire bore her ruler—an empire with millions who worshiped and died for her. A future where her friends died for her. A future that turned the boy she loved into a cold machine. A future in which she was fated to die. A future that manifested all her fears. A future she hated. A future that already happened.

A moment of resolve flooded Pyrrha's mind, easing her thrumming heart and restoring her strength to continue up the stairs, the faint echoes of clashing metal now becoming heard.

'A future that is yet to be,' Pyrrha thought.

That night of revelation had answered much, but in turn it had also broken her heart, mind, will and very belief in destiny.
Destiny, to Pyrrha, was no longer some predetermined fate like she once thought it to be. Destiny was what she would make it be.

Destiny is mine to decide.

The girl slowly found herself standing before the rooftop entryway. The pitched exchanges of blades on the other side beckoned to her warrior instincts, but Pyrrha stood unmoving. Her courage began to waiver from stray thoughts of whether she was truly ready to confront those grueling emotions again. Ready to confront him again.

Her steady breath left her with all lingering uncertainties. Her resolve tempered into her honed discipline forged from countless battles.
She was here to check up on Jaune. Gripping the doorknob, Pyrrha opened the door and stepped out on the rooftop.

The sight that beset her struck all her warrior instincts: a visibly worn and besieged Jaune pitting whatever little strength he had left against his future-self.
Arc loomed over Jaune, relentlessly forcing the young man to buckle underneath his sword and shield. It was the briefest of moments when the wincing pair of cerulean eyes glanced over and met hers; and in that briefest moment, the source of the bright cerulean glow seized his opportunity.

Arc lashed out with his leg in a sweep and toppled Jaune from below. The young blond barely managed to let out a yelp before Arc pummeled Jaune's vertical-airborne body with the hilt of Graucus Aegis. All of Pyrrha's steadfast discipline immediately left her as she saw Jaune's body slam to the ground, bounce upward, and finally crater into the surface from a follow-up bash from Arc's shield. The rooftop cracked from the sheer force alone.

Pyrrha's breath hitched, "Jaune!"

Jaune let out an agonizing groan while trying to move whatever limb would listen. He still gripped Crocea Mors in his trembling hands, but the family heirloom lay scratching against the fractured rooftop. A crackling shield of yellow encompassed Jaune's body, only to audibly fizzle out in an instant.

His aura!

Arc silently regarded his past-self, lending no hand or assistance to the beaten trainee. He hadn't even given any sign of acknowledging Pyrrha's arrival on the scene. But whether or not he knew she was there, Arc proceeded to take a step forward and raise his blade.

Pyrrha's eyes widened.

The blade began to swipe at Jaune.

Nothing held Pyrrha back. Her hands shot up faster than any instinct could ever drive her and unleashed a pure blast of her semblance. The magnetic force slammed into the cybernetic knight, flinging him off of Jaune and careening him to edge of the rooftop.

But Pyrrha didn't even look to see if Arc fell off; she had already rushed to help her team leader out of the miniature crater, "Jaune!"

Jaune weakly craned his head up, "Oh, hey-y Pyrrha…why're you h-here?"

The redhead offered no smile while she helped him up. She ignored the drench of his sweat that smeared her touch and his prevalent body odor. Jaune's breath was ragged and his body wilted against her touch. Guiding him over to a nearby air duct, Pyrrha gently propped him down.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah-h," he breathed, "I…I can make it, wh-where's…?"

Grimacing, Pyrrha watched his question die out and his eyes glanced past her. She followed his gaze and reeled around to see Arc lumbering towards them. His shield and sword here latched away, thankfully, but that didn't mean she could let her guard down. Pyrrha's eyes locked onto Arc with a solid glare and turned to face him.

She spoke with unhidden contempt, "What were you thinking?!"

Arc stopped, "His body needs to learn how to fight and replenish its aura simultaneously while healing any sustain injuries."

"And you're doing this by depleting his aura and then harming him?!"

"It's the most effective way."

"That doesn't excuse you for purposely beating him to an inch of his life!"

Jaune tried his best to speak up behind her, "P-Pyrrha it's okay, w-we've been doing th-this for—"

"Jaune, shut up."

Everything suddenly became still. Not even the wind disturbed the perpetuated silence.

Arc was the first to continue, "The more adversity his aura and body endure the stronger they will grow."

"But they can't grow if you keep breaking them constantly."

"I know what his body can and can't handle," Arc said, "I know his limits."

Pyrrha furrowed her brow, "No, you don't."

She stepped forward. There was nothing but unwavering severity with each clack of her heels. Even looking directly at Arc's face, aged and mostly replaced by cybernetics as it was, did nothing to falter her fortitude as she approached. What she had just seen sealed her judgment.

"You know your limits," Pyrrha said, "not his."

Arc tilted his head down to meet Pyrrha's glare.

"Jaune won't be training with you anymore," Pyrrha stated, "not like this."

Arc's metallic jaw tightened, "It's the only way."

"No, it's not and you know that," Pyrrha snapped, "you can either train him a different way, one that doesn't include you beating the life out of him, or don't train him at all."

Her ultimatum dangled in the tension between them. She was unwilling to back down; not if it risked Jaune.

"I won't stand by and let you brutalize him any longer."

She continued to level her gaze against Arc's, searching his face for any sign of understanding. But she only found a cold, emptiness in the cerulean eye behind his eyepiece.
Moments passed until Pyrrha finally broke away. She had her answer.

Pyrrha went back to Jaune without a word. The beaten boy, having seen and heard everything, only winced and muttered a few grunts when she helped him up. A few weak gestures were made to signal that he could walk, but an ugly limp and a weak flail later had Pyrrha carrying his side.

Few was said going down the stairs other than a few pained groan from Jaune. Pyrrha was too attended to not letting him tumble down the staircase to speak. But once they finally reached their floor and began to make the excruciatingly slow trek down the hall, Pyrrha finally decided to speak her mind. It was as good as a time as any.

"How long?" she asked.

"I-I'm sorry, what?"

"How long had he been training you like that?"

Jaune moved his hand to scratch his head, but the pain left his limb dangling, "Oh, about a little over a week now. We'd only gotten about a quarter of the way when you showed up."

Pyrrha shook her head, "I'm sorry for not stopping him sooner."

"Nah don't be, I didn't want you guys to worry."

"Jaune, I'm your partner, it's my job to worry," she said, "but Arc shouldn't have been doing that to you."

"He said it was the most effective way to train me, given the limited time we have."

"You and I both know there're other ways of training, ways that don't involve nearly killing you. And I'm very certain Arc knows that too."

"I mean, yeah…but he calculated that this way would completely guarantee the results."

"At a cost."

The blond fell silent, earning a glance from Pyrrha.

Jaune sighed, "If it means the future will be saved, I'll take it."

Pyrrha's grip around him suddenly became firmer, unbeknownst to Jaune, whom was sore all over.

"I'm not trying to discourage you from training," she said, "just…promise me you won't train with Arc anymore."

He hesitated, "Pyrrha…if training with him will—"

Jaune suddenly found himself lurched off balance. His vision whirled in an instant. A yelp escaped his throat when pain erupted throughout his body with a hard thud. When the daze from the slam dissipated, Jaune found himself pinned to the wall with emerald eyes piercing his own cerulean. Pyrrha's hands were gripping his shoulders, refusing to let him go so easily.

"We both may be willing to risk our lives for the future, but I won't risk losing you, Jaune Arc. Not for me, and absolutely not for a cruel and merciless training program that nearly kills you."

Pyrrha's voice was close to shouting and strained around the ends, but her message was clear.

"I don't care how effective it is. There are other ways of training, and from what I saw up there, Arc is unwilling to have it any other way but his way. His calculated and efficient way. We've trained for months on end before Arc showed up and look how much you've improved."

Pyrrha blazed on, "If you go back and train with him, he'll only break you down until you have nothing left. And then what? Will you train until you become as soulless and uncaring and ruthless as him? Will you destroy yourself so you can become a cyborg just like him?! All because you find it more efficient to just throw yourself away like that?!"

Jaune was at a lost when he noticed tears were welling near the corner of her eyes. Pyrrha hung her head with shut eyes, her voice dropping to a murmur.

"I can't risk losing you, Jaune."

Jaune's eyes widened.

"Please," she pleaded, "promise me."

The pressure on Jaune's shoulders was beginning to hurt now, but the pain couldn't amount to the weight of her words. All he wanted was to get stronger for himself and for others, but in pursuit of strength, was he really losing himself along the way? Was he throwing himself and everything around him away just for the sake of improving himself?

When Pyrrha found the strength to solemnly meet his gaze again, Jaune felt whatever reservations before melt away at the look in her tearful, emerald eyes.

Painfully inching his arms upward, he embraced his partner ever so slowly. The wincing plea on Pyrrha's face slowly faded, and after what seemed like an eternity in between, Jaune managed to find his voice.

"I promise."

Arc stood alone on the moonlit rooftop. He had watched Pyrrha ferry Jaune away without a word and without an attempt to stop them. He hadn't even move once they left, only quietly staring at the ground where he had cratered his past-self.
All in all, his mind was conflicted.

After being launched by Pyrrha's semblance, his combat programs went about trying to formulate a countermeasure once they recovered from being scrambled. Arc had been lucky enough to still maintain some degree of nerve functions and catch the edge when he was thrown off the building.

However, what was bothering Arc the most was the decision of how to proceed next. A part of him wanted to agree to Pyrrha's suggestion of different training methods, but he had already run the algorithms through his systems before: no other training method produced a higher percent guarantee rate than the regimen he had selected.

Training Jaune any other way would not yield the result they needed, but even training was seemingly no longer an option.

He had no doubt that Pyrrha would follow through with her ultimatum and do whatever she could to interfere.

While calculating the costs of not training his past-self, Arc thought back to the red-headed girl and the memories she invoked. All logic insisted that he ignore the girl's wishes, but some part of Arc compelled him to adhere if possible. Such a decision came not from a hidden program that forced him to obey, but rather from the memories of the same girl whom had been his regent that he once loved. If possible, he would defy logic for her this one time.

A moment later and his systems notified him of their concluded projections: training his past-self was an acceptable loss and allotted more time to focus on other objectives, but it also left no room for any more errors. Everything from here on out had to be absolute.

Finally moving, Arc quietly stalked off.

The memory of Emerald Sustrai lingered in his head. Arc acknowledged his current plan was by all means considered wrong from moral and ethical standpoints, but at the same time, it held the most guaranteed percent chance of averting of his future. It was the most practical of actions he need take.

Practical, but not right.

His brow creased at the memory. Regardless of whether it was right or wrong, leaving things to chance was a risk Arc couldn't afford.

Author's note: Do ends really justify means though? The answer, I feel, varies due to context and circumstances.

On another note: RWBY Volume 6.

Another Volume down. I'll finish this story someday I swer.

I do feel CRWBY outdid themselves in production. Plot-wise, I can say I especially like the realistic aspects thrown in with the complex lore and showcasing ongoing development, both positive and negative, of the cast. It adds relatable depth based on real life, and - as we all know - life isn't as clear cut as we'd like it to be.

For example: "dO eNdS rEaLlY jUsTiFy MeAnS tHoUgH?"

Ahh, take care everybody.