"Thanks again for driving us all the way to downtown Jaune." Pyrrha Nikkos, the four-time Mistral Tournament Champion, beamed at her crush as team JNPR made their way home from a relaxing trip to Vale's downtown. Her crush, the one and only Jaune Arc, blushed slightly while waving her off.

"Think nothing of it guys. You're my team, I'd do anything for you guys." He quipped before turning his attention back to the road. Specifically, the ridiculous amount of traffic that lay before them. When he had announced that he was a capable driver, he was met with skepticism since his notorious motion sickness was at the forefront of their fronts. Apparently, he only got motion sick when travelling in vehicles of very high velocities.

"Does that mean you'd brew me some good ol' fashioned double-espresso infused cocoa whenever I want?" Nora asked excitedly, causing a cold sweat to form at the back of the rest of JNPR's necks at the thought of a coffee-powered Nora. A pancake syrup powered Nora was already tough to control. "Renny never lets me drink any coffee, which sucks because I keep hearing about how much Yang likes a steaming mug of double-espresso infused cocoa once in a while."

"Nora," Ren, a man of seemingly infinite patience chastised his long-time friend. Unbeknownst to said friend, he was praying vehemently to Monty Oum that she would listen to the words that would soon exit his mouth. "Remember the last time I let you have coffee? You trashed seven different coffee shops, sent over a dozen people to the hospital and triple that amount were traumatized and couldn't look at coffee or you the same way ever again. Furthermore, that was on our first day in Vale."

"Oh," Embarrassment was all she felt at that moment. That and a small bit of pride as she remembered that one of the hospitalized people was a foolish broad who thought she could just lay her hands all over her Renny willy-nilly. "What about your super special cocoa?!"

The mentioning of Jaune's special cocoa being created brought a gleam to Pyrrha's eyes as well as a smile to Ren's lips. The latter's reaction was due to a memory of when Jaune first made the special drink, which was during his first birthday party with his team. The former's reaction was due to her not-so-secret addiction to anything sweet, especially chocolate.

"Perhaps." Was their leader's cryptic response. Nora made a noise of disbelief, but sent a look of confusion at her leader when they felt the vehicle slow down. Craning her head to see the cause of their decrease in velocity, she was surprised to see people leaving their vehicles to see a large collection of smoke columns at the distance.

"Let's move guys, something's wrong." Jaune said, his tone shifting to commander mode as the team like to call it as he exited the rental car. The others immediately began to exit the vehicle. They weaved through people and immobile vehicles to reach the source of the smoke. When they arrived, they saw a carnage of overturned vehicles. Some of them were burning, while others had its occupants crawling through a carpet of glass with other civilians helping them out. Wordlessly, the team split up to rescue the civilians. Not too far from them, they saw Sun and Neptune also helping people get out of upturned vehicles.

"Sun, Neptune!" The aforementioned boys turned to see JN of JNPR running towards them. Nora hung back for a moment to help a young couple out of their car. "What happened?!"

"White Fang Rally." Sun grunted as he pulled out a boy out of a totaled car. "Torchwick stole a Paladin and decided to test it on Blake and I." The monkey Faunus noticed his fellow blonde's eyes sharpened intensely.

"Where it at? Momma Valk wanna smash it!" The orange-haired epitome of destruction and insanity asked boisterously, her eyes shining in glee and malicious intent as she tore off the heavily dented door of a sedan in order for the car's passengers to escape. From behind Sun, the mother of the boy that Sun removed from the vehicle shielded her son from the eccentric huntsman while the boy's eyes were alight in wonder.

"Team RWBY came to deal with it." Neptune replied, and as soon as he said that an explosion rocked the bridge they were on. "And apparently, they're still going at it."

Jaune swivelled around to gaze at the general direction of the explosion. His worry for his closest friends bar his team skyrocketing as precious seconds pass by. It was then that he came to a decision. "Can you two handle this?" His question was answered not by the transfer students, but by his own teammates. Pyrrha and Ren got his attention as they jogged towards the huddle of huntsmen and huntress.

"Jaune, the highway's clear. Most of the civilians had already crawled out of their own vehicles, those who couldn't had already been rescued by two hunters or other civilians. I'd assume that it would be these two. The fires were the only big concerns, but they aren't going to be a danger to anyone." Pyrrha spoke from behind Jaune, her eyes conveying her gratitude for Sun and Neptune's heroics. Her leader nodded in approval before returning his attention towards the two heroes of the day.

"You guys gonna come with us to help RWBY?" Jaune asked. Sun merely shook his head.

"I'll have to pass. Judging from what we've heard, RWBY and JNPR would overkill against one paladin. Besides, we need to put out the fires so that the Valean Fire Department has an easier job."

"I see, good luck then." Bidding their farewells, the two teams split up to conduct their tasks. JNPR ran towards the location of the explosion, pumping aura into their legs in order to achieve a greater speed. Though Jaune had a bit of difficulty pulling it off as he wasn't as proficient in aura as his teammates.

By the time team JNPR arrived to the scene, the stolen Paladin was at its limit. Although it stood upright on its two mechanical legs, JNPR could see the extensive damage that team RWBY was able to dish out on the mech. Fist-sized bullet holes riddled its carapace, cuts of varying depth made dangerously close to joints that held the machine together, remnants of icicles that impaled the mech slowly melted in the Valean climate, and unsurprisingly, there were fist-shaped indentations near the cockpit.

In comparison, team RWBY looked fairly pristine. Heavy breathing and a few scrapes were the only signs that this team of prodigies were affected by the one-sided fight. Yang Xiao-Long, the infamous brawler of team RWBY, was ablaze thanks to her semblance. JNPR knew that their sister team had this fight in the bag, and refrained from interfering. Their lack of action would be their downfall.

"Sorry kiddos. I would like to surrender, but I've places to go and people to see." External speakers crackled, carrying the impossibly annoying voice of the notorious Roman Torchwick through the tense atmosphere. RWBY tensed when the mech lifted its arms perpendicular to the ground. "But it would be impolite for me to leave without leaving you a present." As quick as the machine's hydraulics could let it, Roman latched onto the mech's dust-based power source and ripped it off in order to throw it towards the unprepared team JNPR before the mech died from the lack of power. Just as he threw it, he ejected from the Paladin and fired a Fire Dust round at the enormous projectile.

Pyrrha tried to divert the power source with her semblance as Jaune stepped in front of them with his shield up, but found out that it was non-magnetic way too late. She locked eyes with the 15 year old Ruby Rose for but a moment just as her vision was engulfed in white.

The explosion caused by the fusion of lightning dust, fire dust and gravity dust was nothing short of a spectacular display of color. But to four young women, it was the most terrifying thing they saw. From the cloud of debris, something shiny flew out. Their eyes locked on to the gleaming piece of metal and they felt their heart skip a beat when the iconic white blade of Crocea Mors landed not too far from them.

In a wordless scream of rage, sorrow and grief, Yang and Blake took off in order to intercept a retreating Roman Torchwick. Meanwhile, Ruby lost all feeling on her legs and collapsed to her knees as tears flowed. Her body felt numb, her mind replaying the last image she would ever see of her dear friends as they met their premature deaths. She was so out of it that she did not feel her partner, Weiss Schnee, kneel beside her and pull her into a tearful hug.

"This can't be happening." Ruby's voice never sounded more pitiful at that moment. "This is all just a dream." Shaking off her partner, she stood up on shaky legs and ran towards the epicentre of the explosion whilst ignoring Weiss' protests. With her hood covering her head, and a portion of her cape covering her mouth and nose, Ruby searched for proof that her friends weren't dead. As she dove deeper into the smoke and dust, she stumbled upon a pile of rubble, once a part of the Valean highway. Disregarding her health, she went on her knees and dug through concrete. Coughing violently due to the inhalation of dust did not deter her from her mission as she lifted chunks of the road the size of her torso away from the main pile.

After a minute of frantic digging, her fears were proven true. In front of her was Nora's mecha-shift hammer, Magnhild. As if her mind wanted to taunt her, the young reaper suddenly remembered the cheerful laughs of the unflappable valkyrie. From underneath a few stones, she could see one of Stormflower's blades sticking out. The final nail on the coffin came in the form of Sun Wukong dragging her out from the smoke and unintentionally revealing to her the proud gleam of Akuou, Pyrrha's shield.

Meanwhile, Yang and Blake were on a warpath as they chased down Roman Torchwick. Yang was wreathed in a flame of aura, fueled by her fury whilst Blake was a bolt of lightning as she used her clones to propel her closer and closer to her target. Just as she was in arms reach of the murderer of JNPR, a bladed parasol flashed in front of her and forced her to retreat. The heterochromatic eyes of Torchwick's psychopathic partner in crime winked at the two furious huntresses in a mocking manner before bowing. Simultaneously, Blake and Yang fired a shot at Torchwick and were surprised when the man disappeared alongside his accomplice with an accompanied sound of shattering glass.

The loss of their target fueled their fury to greater heights, but Blake had more restraint compared to her partner, who lashed out at the closest thing to them. The cat faunus opened her mouth of calm her partner, but the anguished wail of their team leader was enough to drag Yang back to lucidity. The blonde practically shoved Blake out of her path as she ran towards her sister. When they returned to the highway, Yang's heart clenched at the sight of her sister bawling her eyes out as she clutched Crocea Mors close to her chest.

Maternal instincts kicked in and Yang immediately encompassed Ruby in a hug. It did little to comfort both sisters, it merely muffled the pained cries of grieving friends. Weiss herself was trying with all her might to control her sobs, but the warm embrace of Neptune Vasilias and his supportive words was all it took for her to let it all out. As this all happened, Blake pulled out her scroll with almost mechanical movements and called for Beacon.

"Ms. Belladona! Thank goodness you are alright." The normally stern Ms. Goodwitch responded with relief evident in her tone. However, when she saw the tears flowing down her student's face, she became very worried.

"Ms. Goodwitch… I-.." Blake bit her lip as she tried to compose herself, but it was very difficult considering what she had lost. "Juniper…. KIA." Were all what she could say before she lost her composure. She heard her combat instructor gasp in shock, but couldn't bear to face her. As she cried, dark thoughts began to plague her. Blake began to blame herself, as her persistence of 'saving' the White Fang has costed precious lives. She almost dropped her scroll, but Sun took it from her hands and wrapped her in a one-armed hug.

"Could you please send a bullhead to our location? We're by the highway, but I doubt you could miss the smoke." The trickster politely requested as he felt his shirt grow damp.

"We're on our way." Was Goodwitch's short response before the connection was cut. Closing her scroll and pocketing it, Sun focused on trying to alleviate the pain of the distraught woman in his arms. A few minutes later, two bullheads landed by the remains of the Paladin which Torchwick stole. One was filled with Atlesian soldiers accompanying General Ironwood while the other was empty save for Ms. Goodwitch and Ozpin. As Ironwood barked orders at his men, the two professors of Beacon approached the small posse of teenagers.

"Come now children, let's get you back to the school." Glynda softly told her students, leading them away from their battlefield while Ozpin stayed behind with Sun and Neptune. As team RWBY left, Ozpin noticed that each member of team RWBY had a death grip on team JNPR's weapons.

"We can talk about this on another day. Though, I apologize if I must know how were you certain that all of team JNPR is dead." The reminder of their friends' death caused the two Vacuo natives to wince.

"You saw team RWBY holding onto team JNPR's weapons right?" Neptune asked, to which Ozpin nodded. "That was all that we could find that belonged to team JNPR."

"I see." Ozpin stared at the distance, the grip on his cane slightly tightening. "You two are dismissed. And if I may ask, please keep an eye on team RWBY. They need their friends more than ever."

"We'll do our best." Sun responded as the two members of team SSSN jogged to the bullhead containing the Beacon students.

"Something's not right." James Ironwood ground out as he stood beside Ozpin.

"Besides the fact that the White Fang somehow got their hands on your latest creation." Ozpin pointed out, trying his best to contain his anger. At the corner of his eye, he saw the Atlesian General locking his jaw momentarily.

"Yes." James ground out. "It seems like the Paladin has been modified." That earned a raised eyebrow from Ozpin.

"How so?"

"Unlike the originals, the power source of these White Fang Paladins used a fairly volatile combination of dust. Usually we just use Lightning dust to power the mech, but we've found large traces of Gravity dust. Have you heard of a black hole?"

"Yes, I have from an random article I read regarding the United Astronomers of Remnant. An interesting thesis, if I were to say so myself, the concept of a point in space where gravity is infinite such that even light couldn't escape."

"Precisely. One of them claimed that a very large amount of lightning dust reacting to gravity dust would supercharge the latter, and would theoretically create a synthetic black hole."

"Are you saying that team JNPR has been sucked into a black hole and could very much be alive?"

"Perhaps, but this is all just theory. I wouldn't get your hopes up Ozpin. For one, this claim has not been proven true yet as they have not conducted tests. Also, the presence of fire dust in the rubble, in my opinion, negates this theory as is the amount of dust in a regular mech's power core. And if team JNPR did get sucked into the black hole, they possibly could have died inside it due to the strength of gravity."

"I hope that you are wrong, for the sake of the students." Ozpin grunted out as he inspected the rubble.

The following day, the fateful announcement had been made. The entirety of Beacon Academy bar team RWBY had been called to the auditorium in order to share the news of the untimely death of team JNPR. Shock had reverberated throughout the student body as JNPR had a reputation as one of the best first-year teams, tied with team RWBY. In an act of sympathy, Ozpin gave the students a week off. However, the Arc and the Nikos households took the news the worst.

Richard Arc, the Arc patriarch, and his three eldest daughters immediately boarded a bullhead to Beacon in order to discuss the event with the headmaster in person while Jaune's Mother, Isabelle, stayed to comfort the remaining daughters. The Nikos patriarch and his wife also made a trip for Beacon Academy as well, demanding answers for their beloved daughter's death. However, the relatives of Jaune and Pyrrha were warned that they would have to wait as Ozpin told them that only team RWBY had seen what occurred. The same team that had locked themselves in their dorm the moment they returned from their fight with Torchwick. Sun and Neptune kept their promises to Ozpin and stood guard at the door. The only times they left were to collect food for the four ladies and themselves or to go to the gent's room.

Inside the dorm, the four women of team RWBY coped with loss in their own ways. Ruby had curled up in her bed and covered herself with a blanket, effectively shutting out the world. She had not moved since they returned. Yang was passed out in the bathroom, one hand wrapped around the toilet seat while the other loosely grasped a bottle of whiskey. It had been a gift from Qrow, in commemoration for her acceptance into Beacon. Yang had intended to drink it on her eighteenth birthday, but the circumstances had changed. When Yang was in the process of expunging the toxic substance from her body, she had understood why her dear uncle loved to drink.

Weiss sat on her chair, gazing out the dorm's window. She was practically in a catatonic state, unable to move as she tried to reel in her violent emotions. Once in a while, a teardrop escaped her eye, but she made no motion to remove it. In retrospect, Blake was a flurry of motion and emotions. Throughout the night, she had poured over the internet through her scroll as well as the Xiao-Long/Rose sisters' scrolls in order to find hints about Torchwick's whereabouts. Sometimes, she would take a break and sob. Sometimes, she would glare at the scrolls for hours, uncaring of how her eyes burned at the overexposure of light. At the chime of noon, she finally snapped.

"Monty Oum be damned!" She roared, grabbing onto the chair in which she sat on throughout the night and threw it at the wall, breaking the piece of furniture and cracking the wall. Her outburst got the attention of their guards, but her teammates did not move at the noise. "How could this happen!? Why them!? Why not me?!"

Her spiteful amber eyes locked onto the window that Weiss was blankly staring at. Marching towards it, she forcefully opened it and glared at the sky. "What do you want from me!? Do you want me to keep suffering?! Do you want me to keep losing loved ones!? Answer me, you sadistic icon of blind faith and worship!"

Her tirade of rage was interrupted by a hand turning her around and another slapping her on the face. The owners of said hands were none other than Ruby, whose eyes were as puffy and bloodshot as the four of them. "Stop it Blake. They wouldn't want it for you to feel this way."

"They would still be alive if I didn't try to save the Fang. They would still be alive if I wasn't here." Blake retorted.

"Blake, stop. Please." This time, it was Weiss who pleaded for her friend to calm down.

"You too?! Out of all the people in this room, I thought you were the one who would be able to see through my eyes. Out everyone, I thought you were the one logical enough to know that this was all my fault." Blake had begun to build up steam for another emotion-filled rant when a warm body embraced her from behind.

"It's not your fault." Her partner whispered.

"It is Yang! It's my fault that Jaune's dead. It's my fault that Pyrrha's dead. It's my fault that Nora and Ren are dead."

"It isn't." She whispered with the patience of a mother. "It's Torchwick's fault, not yours. He was the one who stole the mechs. He was the one who tried to fight us. He was the one who killed Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren. Don't blame yourself please."

"I… I….I." Blake knelt down with Yang still holding onto her. "I can't do that. I can't forgive myself for this. I keep hearing their voices and seeing their happy faces. I can't forgive myself for taking such beautiful lives away from the world."

"Blake, I get it. I know how you feel." Yang whispered in her ear and tightened her grip around her partner.

"How? How have you experienced this sort of guilt?" Blake asked as she calmed down enough to speak. Yang turned to her sister and locked eyes with her, as if they were speaking telepathically. Weiss observed the encounter with curiosity and was getting a little anxious when Ruby nodded.

"Years ago," Yang began, her voice soft and quiet. "I nearly got Ruby killed." Her partner and their pale roommate gasped in unison at the revelation.

"What?" Blake whispered out in shock and turned to look at the younger sister to find confirmation. The petite reaper nodded grimly.

"My father had two wives. The first left my family not too long after I was born, and his second wife died when Ruby was six." Yang had her eyes closed as she replayed the memory of that fateful day. "Her death devastated my father. I remember looking into his eyes and flinching when I saw that there was no light, no warmth and no life in them. For a while, I was taking care of both him and my sister. Cooking, cleaning and various house chores were up to me since Ruby was too young and dad was stuck in a rut." Weiss and Blake were silent as Yang told her tale. Their hearts reached out to the blonde as she explained why she lived with the guilt that she nearly caused the death of her sister and the total annihilation of her father's psyche and soul.

"Yang, I.." Blake tried to speak, but there words were stuck in her throat.

"So yeah, I get where you're coming from, but it only matters if you dwell upon it too much. If you want to honor team JNPR, then you find Torchwick and you bring him to justice. Just don't kill yourself while doing it because you have people who care about you." Yang breathed out slowly and locked eyes with her partner. "And remember that you are not alone. I have a bone to pick with the bastard and would love to see him rot in prison."

"We all do." Ruby's solemn voice responded as the rest of team RWBY came together in a group hug with Sun and Neptune watching with proud smiles. Leaving the team to savor their moment, Sun and Neptune left to fill their stomachs and to grab some food for team RWBY.

His body felt like it was on fire, everything ached and he didn't want to open his eyes. However, the nearby voices of men were enough to lull him back to consciousness. With bleary eyes, he was able to discern the shape of a tree swaying gently in the wind. As he laid there, he tried to remember how he got there. And more importantly, who he was. All he could remember was a name, Jaune. Whether it was his or someone that he knew, he did not know.

"One hell of a find you got Klaus." He heard a voice from within the forest.

"Heh, dumb broad thinks she could wander in these parts alone. We rule the woods, not the Legions." Another voice responded, his tone that of pride and arrogance.

"You sure about this? I mean, she's a Warden for God's sake." A third chirped, younger than the two if the higher pitch of his voice was a giveaway.

"So? Once we're done with her, it won't matter." His eyes widened at the implication, he may not remember a whole lot, but he knew deep in his heart that those men were up to no good. As quietly as he could, he moved towards the general direction of the voices. The ruffling of clothing and unbuckling of armor prompted him to hurry up, not caring if he was making a lot of noise. Picking up the largest branch he could find, he burst through the foliage with a war cry that would've impressed the mightiest of warriors.

Okay, let's be honest, his voice crack would've caused the mightiest of warriors to roll in their graves.

Regardless, his appearance shocked the three men that were converged on the half-naked and bound woman. One of them tried to pull up his pants, but he was the first to be acquainted with the makeshift club. As he fell whilst clutching his broken nose in pain, the others drew their weapons. The amnesiac positioned himself such that he was between the men and the woman, taking care to stomp on the prone man's crotch for good measure.

"Who the blazes are you?" The older of the two men asked, perturbed the sudden appearance of a boy no older than his compatriot wearing some form of armour over the oddest set of clothing he has ever seen. The amnesiac on the other hand, did not answer. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he couldn't since his name still eluded him. The older bandit grew impatient and irate at the lack of an answer and charged at the young man with his sword held high.

Instinct guided the amnesiac as he stepped into the bandit's swing, and jabbed the club into his gut. The man clutched his abdomen in pain, but was lucid enough to kick the amnesiac away before he could follow through with a swing. As the amnesiac backpedalled away, the younger bandit stepped into the fight and swung his blade. The makeshift club, while fairly hefty, could not prevent the steel blade from embedding itself into the wood. As soon as the young bandit felt the steel bite into the wood, he yanked backwards forcefully. As a result, the amnesiac was forced to let go of his weapon lest he was going to be pulled in along with the club.

However, the damage had been done and he tripped over a root as soon as he let go. A tingle at the back of his neck made him roll instinctively, saving his life as the older bandit tried to stab him. As he tried to stand up, he was tackled to the ground by the younger bandit. With his arms pinned by the bandit's knees, he was powerless to stop the gleaming steel blade from piercing his skull. However, neither the bandit nor the amnesiac were expecting a half-naked and bound woman to shoulder-check the armed man away.

"Get up!" Her lightly accented voice ordered him, her face facing away from him as she glared at the older bandit as he helped out his ally. "Get my sword, I'll hold them off." He was about to object, but she tilted her head just a tad to glare at him with hazel eyes. Wisely, he conducted his assigned task. Finding the woman's sword was not a difficult endeavor. Simple process of elimination helped him single out the weapon. Unlike the dull and evidently mistreated equipment that the bandits used, her sword was a thing of beauty.

Roughly four and a half foot in length, its three foot blade gleamed in the sunlight with rose engravings running through the fuller. The curved cross guard was shaped like outstretched eagle wings with gold highlights. The pommel was a flattened perfume cap with a fleur-de-lis on one side and a rose on another.

"Quickly, you fool!" The woman's strained voice boomed, startling him from his admiration of the beautiful blade. He turned, longsword in hand, and watched as the woman jumped from a low cut while looping her bound arms under her leg which consequentially caused her to evade a high slash. Kicking the younger bandit in the face with bare feet, she then dodged another attempted swing and retaliated with twin-fist hammer blow. Her braided black hair whipped about in conjunction to her motions as she single-handedly held off two armed men. "Throw it here!" She took a few steps back from the two men as she took a sideways glance to him.

He threw it underhanded at her, so that she could have an easier time catching it. When she did, she stabbed the sword into the ground and cut her binds. She did it just in time as the older bandit ran towards her with his sword poised to stab. She ripped her sword from the ground in a violent fashion to accomplish two things, to parry his stab and to blind him with a shower of dirt.

With his sword hand pointing to the sky and his offhand brushing away dirt that got into his eye, the older bandit was unable to defend himself from the brutal overhead swing that cleaved his head in two. His gruesome death caused the two young spectators to throw up in disgust, but the swordswoman was undeterred. She was determined to make these rapists pay.

Like a lioness stalking towards her prey, she walked towards the prone rapist. Through the pain of his genitals being crushed by the vengeful foot of a teenager, he looked at his executioner. Her hazel eyes were practically aglow in fury and the scowl on a face akin to royalty amplified the intimidating visage. Without hesitation, she impaled her sword into his shoulder and punched him in the face. "You bitch!"

"For the attempted rape and murder of a Warden of the Regal Legion, I, Joan of Order Sigismund, sentence you to death!" She growled out and almost smiled when fear plastered itself onto his face in recognition of her name. With a tug, she removed the sword from his shoulder before embedding it into his screaming mouth.

A few moments pass with only the haggard breaths of Joan and the sounds of nature destroying what could've been a very tense silence. The tension increased in intensity when she locked eyes with the remaining member of the bandit party. Fearing for his life, he tried to run away from the vengeful swordswoman. He only managed to gain a few feet between them before a sharp pain engulfed his leg. Stumbling to the ground, he was surprised to see the tip of a dagger sticking out of his thigh.

Looking behind him, he saw that the Warden was jogging towards his location and panicked. He tried to pull out the dagger, but found out that he couldn't handle the pain. He attempted again, and was able to remove the dagger, but was soon reduced to a crying mess as the pain was becoming too much for him. When he heard her footsteps beside him he began to beg. "Please! Please have mercy, ma'am! I had no intention of defiling you nor kill you! I tried to reason with them, but they wouldn't listen. Please, please have mercy!"

"2 Years." She ground out.

"What?" The weeping lad looked up to her.

"2 years in prison for the attempted theft of a Warden. After that, you will be conscripted as a soldier for the Regal Legion. Your crime will be pardoned when you have served for six months or upon an honorable death in the battlefield. Am I understood?" She explained and kicked the bandit away when he started blabbering his gratefulness for her mercy.

"Uh.." Another voice caught her attention and she was a little miffed when she saw her 'saviour' hold up a pair of pants that clearly belonged to her.

"My thanks." She curtly responded, taking the garments from him and put them on, uncaring of whoever was watching. "I never caught your name."

"It's, uh, Jaune… I think."

"I think?" She raised a dark eyebrow at the odd choice of words.

"I don't remember anything prior to waking up in these woods." He explained truthfully.

"Well then, Jaune. I wish you to accompany me to my Order's Headquarters. We could use some fresh recruits and you could use a new set of armor as well as a proper training in swordplay."

"You noticed that, huh? He commented bashfully.

"The dead would've woken up when you screamed like a dying cat."

She had been living for nine summers, and was very thankful of the Great One that she was able to live to see another. Though, she was also quite morose when she remembered that her mate was not as lucky as her. Briefly reminiscing past summers as well as the time she spent with her mate as she trudged along snow covered lands in search of a decent meal for her cubs, she had come across a rather peculiar sight.

A skin-shedder* was lying down a fair distance from her, half buried in the snow. Idly noting the fact that the fur on the skin-shedder's head was the same colour as the sky during a sunset, she approached it. She grimaced as recent memories of skin-shedders appearing in the dead of night with their miniature suns and shiny claws to hunt for more of her kin. A growl came from the depths of her throat as she remembered how close they were from taking one of her cubs from her. The growling grew in volume as she remembered that they were the ones who took her mate from her. She figured that killing this one would be the best decision if her cubs were to survive another summer.

As she stood to her hind legs, front paws ready to maul the skin-shedder in front of her, she caught a whiff of the skin-shedder's scent. It smelled like the remnants of the Great One's fury after casting webs of light accompanied by violent roars. The skin-shedder was a child of the Great One, she could tell. Her mother once told her stories of children of the Great One. About how they could harmoniously live with skin-shedders while their spirit remains bonded to the Great One. She remembered that they were revered guardians of nature and as such, were able to wield its power.

She also remembered that they have all but disappeared.

She needed to spare this child in order to protect her own.

As she was going to leave the prone child alone, she remembered that skin-shedders were weak creatures without their stolen hides. Leaving the child would kill it. So with infinite gentleness, she lifted the child of the Great One by her second skin with her teeth. Swinging the youngling to her back, she trekked back to the den where she can protect the child from the dangers of the cold. As she traversed the snowy hills, she briefly wondered how her cubs would react to her bringing home a child of the Great One.

Screaming. Crackling of burning wood. Galloping horses.

That was what she woke up to. From the cold earth, she rose to her feet in desperation and in fear. Fear for herself and fear for those who the screams belonged to. Looking around wildly, she saw that she was in a forest, but it was the middle of the evening. The only source of light that illuminated the area around her was the moonlight and the dull orange glow of fire in the distance. Despite her gut instinct coaxing her to run far away from the source of the noise, her throbbing mind was able to convince her that there were innocents whose lives were worth saving. Although, she was initially set back when she tripped over her shoes, so she removed the damnable things and wondered who would be sadistic enough to make these and who would be insane enough to wear these on a daily basis.

When she had successfully removed the infernal pieces of footwear, she ran to the edge of the forest, where she hoped that she could see what was going on. When she arrived, she regretted making that decision as the burning husk of a village came into view. At the far side, she saw a massive contingent of men with their weapons drawn wait at the village gates. From within the village, she could see people scurrying like rats at the sight of a cat with the cats being men on horseback.

At the edge of the village palisade, she saw a small group of civilians crawl from a small hole in the ground. She estimated that there were about thirty people in the group with about a third consisting of children. Her heart dropped when a squad of cavalrymen noticed the small group and made their steeds gallop towards the panicking civilians. Determination and purpose filled her being as she sprinted down the slope to help the civilians escape. She briefly locked eyes with one of the women and smiled as she sprinted by to buy time for them.

"Hyah! Hyah!" She heard one of the riders scream, coaxing his horse to gallop faster as he lowered his lance with the intent to impale her. At the last moment before impact, she twisted her body and redirected the lance so that it would embed itself into the ground. This caused the lance to snap and the rider to fall off his horse due to the sudden shift in balance. The rider before him soon met the cold ground when she spun and slammed the remains of the ruined lance at the horse's legs.

However, there was still the rest of the squad behind the two downed horsemen making their way towards the refugees. So, she ran towards the second man she downed and picked up his lance. Noticing that it had a banner at the end, she ran towards the squad whilst screaming and waving the lance about with the banner swaying at the horses' eye level. She didn't know why she did this, but she had a feeling that it would work.

And it did. One of the horses began to flail about in fear. Its rider tried to control it, but only ended up crashing into his compatriot. The two of them went flying in the air, arms swinging in an attempt to correct their trajectory. However, the rest of the horsemen went on and leveled their lances in order to kill the nuisance before them.

"I'm sorry," She whispered as she threw the lance and watched it bury deep into the lead horse's neck. Death came quickly for the majestic animal. When the horse fell, the horses behind it tripped over its corpse. A domino effect of tripping animals and flying riders was the effect of a desperate woman's desire to save innocents. The woman cried as she watched it die, and choked at the realization that she had killed people. So caught up in her grief, she did not notice one of the riders rise up behind her until the last second.

A flash of pain filled her head as she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Warm blood flowed from a fresh cut on her scalp and painted her fair skin red. Her attacker approached her in order to kill her, but was stopped by a voice. "Spare her!"

More footsteps approached her and she was lifted to her knees by two pairs of arms. A hand pulled her hair back and forced her to stare at the blank eyes of a death masque. "Tie her up. She would fetch us a hefty amount of gold." Another sharp flash of pain and then all she saw and felt was darkness.

He had been awake for quite a while now, but refused to move or open his eyes as he felt something watching him. It was cautious, that was one thing he was certain about. His watcher was not too far from him and was elevated, but always made sure to move in a manner that made the faintest noise. He had to admit, whoever or whatever was watching him was very good at sneaking about.

When he woke up in this dark forest, he had no memory on how he had got there. Only a quiet whisper of what he thought was his name. Ren.

Then, he heard his watcher quietly drop from his post and draw a blade, if the rasp of steel against wood was any indication. Slow, quiet steps soon followed and he tried not to tense up lest his watcher would catch on. As the footfalls got closer, they got slower as if they knew that he was awake. When he had deemed that his watcher had gotten close enough, he sprung from his position. With the speed not unlike a patient serpent, he lashed out at his watcher with a closed fist. To his surprise, the watcher deflected his attack and struck him in the face with the hilt of his blade.

Rising to his feet with a flip, he glared at his attacker with a hand gently massaging his chin. Clad in loose midnight black garb, with only a slit revealing slanted brown eyes, his watcher sheathed his blade and lowered into a stance. He stared at the man, confused at the sudden shift in demeanor from the man of shadows. First, he was trying to kill him. Now, he wanted to fight hand-to-hand.

Seeing the masked individual gesture at him in an impatient manner, he was forced to comply lest he pissed his watcher off. The man threw the first punch, a quick jab to test his opponent, and was summarily parried. The masked man threw another punch, but immediately followed with a kick. Both of which were parried as well. After the parry, he immediately threw a punch at the masked man's side. His strike was redirected to miss the man, so he followed up with a spin kick. The force of the kick sent the masked man careening back a bit, caught off balance by the power behind his leg. The teen let the masked man regain his balance, refusing to budge from his position. Seeing this, the masked man began his assault anew.

Feinting an overhead punch, the masked man uppercutted the teen in the gut and followed up with a back flip kick, catching him in the jaw. The young man backpedalled from the blow and barely dodged an overhead kick. He tried to retaliate withe a kick of his own, but was caught off guard by the masked man stepping into the kick to catch the leg. Before he could try to remove his leg from the man's strong grip, he felt an impact to the back of his knee and buckled to the ground. As he fell to a knee, he pushed the man away and pivoted on said knee to elbow him on the gut.

Capitalizing this opportunity, he unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks at the masked man, who was dodging or blocking to the best of his ability. However, in his fervor, he overextended a punch and was punished for it. The masked man wrapped his arms around the overextended limb and threw him to the ground. A leg to the neck prevented any more attempts of getting back up.

"You can learn many things about a man in a fight." His watcher lowered his mask and revealed a wrinkled face with a greying beard. "What I have learned is that you are scared and confused in the predicament you have found yourself in, but you are confident in your skills being enough to save you. I have learned that you do not like violence and senseless killing from the fact that you refused to land any fatal blows on my throat and your preference for a defensive fighting style, but the power behind your fists tell me that you are unafraid of putting me down. I like you boy, you could become a very powerful warrior someday." The man waved his hand, and before his eyes, more figures in black emerged from the trees.

"The path to that day can begin today, friend. My name is Katsumoto Miura and I would be honoured to know the name of my student." The man held out a hand.

"Ren. My name is Ren." The teen took the offered limb and let out a little smile at the sight of the man's grin as he was raised up from the ground.

"In times of great peril, heroes rise from the sea of faceless followers

Their strength nor their minds were not what made them heroes,

Rather, it was the acceptance of an obligation

An obligation to do the right thing

An obligation to cease the mindless bloodshed

An obligation to show others the way

The rise of Apollyon was not the beginning of another era of war

It was the beginning of an era of peace

Four warriors,

Each a master of their craft,

Paved the path for peace amidst the bloody chaos

And it was through the banner of the juniper

That a millennium of death ended,

Ushering an age of prosperity from the ashes of conflict

We, the people of Imeria**, owe everything to these warriors

Nay! We owe our freedom to the Kings and Queens of Imeria

Jaune of Order Sigismund, the Valiant Lion of Ashfield

Nora of House Bjornblud, the Great Bear of Valkenheim

Pyrrha of Legio Aquila, the Unwavering Eagle of Phanoxus

Ren of the Isonade Clan, the Silent Dragon of Myre

You will be forever remembered as Imeria's beacons of hope."

- Holden Cross, Grand Champion of the Juniper Alliance, addressing a crowd of mourning citizens at the disappearance of the four heroes of Imeria.

* - Skin-shedder is bear-speak for us humans. Get it? 'cause we remove the fur of certain animals to protect us from the cold and then remove it when it's too hot.

**- Imeria is a made up name I coined for the world of For Honor since there isn't any 'official' name for it.

Hello friends. Here's the For Honor story that you have been waiting for, featuring team JNPR. I'm really excited to write this as For Honor is a pretty cool universe, no matter what the people say. It just needs to be a bit more fleshed out, y'know? Political structure of each faction, economic advantages, geographical advantages, monetary system, recruitment and training of each warrior, civilian life, etc.

As you can tell, Jaune is a Knight, Nora is a Viking and Ren is a Samurai (even though he's Chinese, but you gotta work with what you have). After chapter 2, it would be Jaune's path to Warden-hood, Nora's path to Raider-dom, and Ren's path to Orochi-ness. From then on, we will follow the For Honor campaign, but with a few changes here and there. Now, Pyrrha will be a special case as she will have a unique storyline created by yours truly during the Age of Apollyon as her 'champion' would be the famous Greek Hoplite.

Since this chapter is about them arriving to Imeria, the next shall be of their return to Remnant. So hold on to your butts, 'cause we gonna have a dance of blades against Grimm and/or 'ummies courtesy of team JNPR.

No flames please, Constructive Criticism would be much appreciated though. Any flames would be donated to the Salamanders, they need it to bury their dead. Or start a death metal band, I dunno.

I will also be setting up a poll in regards on whose story line I will start with. However, Pyrrha's will be definitely be the last story line I will work on. Special treatment for our favourite (not-dead) amazon.

Rate, Review (while stating your allegiance), and Stay tuned for more awesome-sauce.