For a brief moment, reality froze.

He floated. Not in the air – his feet were still firmly on the ground, after all – but more in time, or in space. It was as if he was… decontextualized, for lack of a better word. Sense and feeling felt disjointed from his body, like they were on a higher plane of existence. Yes, he could still see, and hear, and smell, but for that brief moment, none of that felt real.

Perhaps as a consequence, he took in the scene so much more clearly.

In the distance, the ash-choked sky cleared just enough for a warm sun to briefly shine through. Underneath, sunlit waves lapped against the beach, the ocean breeze dusting flecks of salt and sand into his hair. Beneath his feet, not sand, but steel and wood, the deck of a long-forgotten battleship dashed against the rocks. In his hands, the barely-familiar weight of his 'God Arc', supposedly ready against his foes. Behind him, his squadmates. The high-pitched, fearful shriek had to be from Kota, as were the bullets whizzing over his head. That left the low grunt and approaching footsteps to Lindow, accompanied by the whirr of his chainsaw. In front, the main focus of the scene.

A Quadriga, Lindow had called it. Supposedly a corpse-lion-tank-artillery thing, and up close, that description mostly made sense. It was corpse-like, from the withered skull and torso that loomed over him, frozen in eternal grim mockery. It was lion-like, as it had four legs, a light-gold colouring, and a halo of steel cresting around that grinning head, reminding him of a mane. It was tank-like, in that its front legs were a pair of tank treads, it was covered in inches-thick armour all around, and its size could rival a house. And it was artillery-like, not only from the missile-pods on its back, but also from the giant missiles it could fire from its chest.

In front of him, one Quadriga, bent over, front armour open, recovering from shooting a missile from its chest. Slightly closer, one six-foot-long, who-knows-how-explosive missile, careening right towards his face.

If he was more experienced, if he knew his balance and flow more, it would have been easy to dodge. A roll to the side, using the weight of his weapon, then a quick shield to block the blast wave, flowing into a dash forwards and burying his God Arc before the armour closed again. If he was more experienced, none of this would have been an issue.

Alas, he had been a God Eater for less than six weeks, and thus was not 'more experienced'. His 'God Arc' was heavy and cumbersome, his conditioning was weak, and his footwork and balance were non-existent. None of those techniques were glimmers in his mind, least of all in that moment.

For a brief moment, reality froze.

Then the moment passed, the missile crashed into him, and every bone in his body shattered.

Aura. The strength of the soul, of humanity, of something like that. It would have been nice to know the finer workings, but none of the sources had elaborated much, probably because those details were hardly relevant when facing a swarm of Grimm. Apparently, it improved toughness, could be used as a shockwave, worked as radar, and did a half-dozen other things which seemed tangentially related at best. Not for the first time, I'd regretted not asking more about it when I'd had the chance.

But to return to the present, Aura was super soul-power or whatnot, and its effects were marked. Human necks were pretty difficult to break, and Oracle cells just made mine tougher. No ordinary person would have been able to break it, even with a solid lump of metal for assistance. Except Pyrrha did, without problems. Aura was great.

"Aaaaaahhh!"

A horrified shriek rang out, accompanied by a sword clattering to the ground. Ah. I could imagine that Pyrrha was not used to dealing with broken necks. The right thing to do would be to assuage her, to let her know that I'm still alright, which I why I did exactly that.

"Iiiiiaaaaaiiiihhhh."

That was why I tried to do exactly that, except my brain or my windpipe or something was obstructed, so what came out was less a reassurance, and more of a last gasp of a dying man. Not helpful for most people, and if the new tears were any indicator, certainly not helpful for Pyrrha.

"Pyrrha what's wrong – OH MY GOD JAUNEY WHAT DO WE DO WHAT DO WE DO –"

"Nora, what's – oh."

And Ren and Nora were back. I tried to wave a greeting, but it came out as another pile of death spasms. Pyrrha's cries were more sorrowful, Nora's screams were more panicked, and Ren – well, he wasn't crying or screaming, so it was hard to tell what he was doing while my face was still stuck on the floor.

"I'm sorry Jaune I'm so so sorry this is all my fault –"

"HE'S NOT DEAD WE HAVE TO GET HIM TO THE NURSE –"

"Nora, stay calm. We shouldn't move somebody with a neck injury. We have to –"

With far more effort than I'd have liked, I pushed myself from the floor and rolled onto my back.

A moment of silence fell, as my teammates processed that, yes, that had been controlled movement and not the twitches of a soon-to-be-corpse. The moment stretched on for longer than probably necessary, before being closed by three sets of footsteps. Soon enough, three pairs of concerned and/or tearful eyes were hovering above me. After another moment of processing, Pyrrha spoke first.

"Jaune?"

I put of my best approximation of a smile.

"HHhheeyyyy."

Sweet, sweet Oracle cells, how many times would I have died without you? Barely a handful of minutes, and bones, nerves, blood, sinew, everything had already stuck itself back together. There was still a bit of stiffness, but it was far, far better than being a fleshy sack of organs.

"Jaune! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry –"

Despair given way to relief, Pyrrha swooped down and buried me in a teary embrace. A similarly-relieved Nora joined her a second later, and proceeded to unload her tears as well. I let them have their moment, and when the tears dried up and the last of the stiffness faded, I gently pushed them off me and slowly sat up.

"What happened?" Ren promptly asked. While consoled by my continued existence, there was nonetheless a distinct look of how-are-you-still-alive on his face. Understandable, of course.

"Training accident," I replied. "Pyrrha caught me off-guard. Don't worry about it, though. I heal quickly."

Ren turned to Pyrrha, who distinctly avoided making eye contact. Seeing no objection to my words, he let out a small sigh. "Right. Just… be more careful, I guess?"

"Sure." It was a useful reminder: people weren't Aragami. Mindless eating machines didn't leave tricks for special moments, and I'd have to be more aware of that in the future.

Introspection done, I got back to my feet and looked at the clock. Twenty minutes left. Enough for a bit more training. "Anyway, I'm better now. Pyrrha, are you okay to carry on?"

Pyrrha took a moment to consider it. Then another. Then about a dozen more – certainly longer than I'd imagine she'd need. Looking closer, she'd also stiffened in place slightly, with eyes distant and unfocussed. Was it really that big an issue to think about?

"Pyrrha? Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" My partner blinked a good six or seven times, as if confused by the reality around her. "I'm fine, Jaune. I think I'd prefer to stop now, though, if that's okay?"

Well, she didn't seem completely fine. Otherwise, she wouldn't have frozen in place like that, despite looking and being unharmed and uninjured in every way. "Are you sure? Do you need anything – some water, an energy bar, or –"

"I'm fine," she repeated. "I just need a moment to catch my breath. I'll go wash up in a moment. You go ahead."

"Well, I won't force you." I'd trust her judgement on the issue. "I'll meet you back in our dorm, then we'll all go get some food. Any objections?"

Pyrrha gave me a small, almost hesitant nod of affirmation. I looked to my other teammates, to receive similarly guarded responses. All of Nora's bubbly exuberance had been stuffed in a bag and driven down to the riverbank, while something about Ren seemed more distant than the horizon. They did both nod, but in cautious acceptance rather than agreement.

At this point, it was obvious that something was concerning my team, and it probably involved me. Was there something on my face? Had I unknowing insulted someone's mother? Was I pushing them to limits beyond where they were comfortable? None of these options were likely, but they still needed to be considered. Failing to acknowledge problems was never a good course of action.

"Alright then. See you guys in a bit."

With that said, though, I didn't want to interrogate them on the matter. While I doubted my leadership was the root of the matter, I didn't want to be a hard-line leader anyway. Besides, while bad, the problem didn't feel severe enough to instantly implode the team. While ignoring problems was never good, time still solved some of them. If a night's rest would solve everything, it would be simpler and easier for all of us.

Thus, I headed down to the showers. One day. I'd give it one day to hopefully fix itself, and if things were still stiff then, I'd re-evaluate and decide how to proceed then.

Ozpin adjusted his glasses.

Objectively, the past few minutes had been shocking. He'd seen and experienced far too many things in his existence to actually have been shocked, but from an objective standpoint, they were certainly shocking. Training accidents did happen, but rarely so severely, and even more rarely did the affected party walk away without a scratch.

Closing the security feed, he took another sip of coffee. Jaune Arc. The first full day of the semester, and he'd already started organising extra-curricular training for his team. Such initiative was rare, and combined with his display at initiation, he'd thought it worthwhile to watch the boy's approach.

Overall, he was satisfied. Yes, while none of Team Juniper had noticeably bettered themselves, it wasn't wrong to first observe, to understand where improvement would be most worthwhile. While there were risks of stalling and complacency, with proper diligence, the method would pay its dividends in the long-term.

Nevertheless, some irregularities did cause concern.

Putting his coffee down, he opened up the student records. Arc, Jaune C., near the top of the list. There were two things he needed to check, and one thing to confirm.

The confirmation, first. Previous Schooling, Other (Please Specify): survived two-and-a-half years in the wilds. It would have been implausible, if not for the news reports back at that time, which made it merely improbable, and more and more likely with each day. Indeed, suppose he had survived like that. Then his somewhat laissez-faire approach to his own safety could be explained: in the wilderness, the only distinction that mattered was alive or dead. Given his lack of a reaction to a shattered vertebra, he likely had been closer to the second of those options more times than anyone would be comfortable.

That healing 'Semblance' would have been vital. But that was precisely the first major concern: Semblance, Unknown. Obviously, the boy had known about his robust recovery potential. Did that mean that that wasn't his Semblance? Unlikely. He didn't feel any of the tell-tale signs of old magic, and he sincerely doubted that his old adversary (or anyone) could find a way of masking them. But that would mean the boy didn't know what a Semblance was, which only felt barely more plausible. There was no clear, consistent explanation here, not without uncharacteristic stupidity.

Still, although the issue was worth pondering, it was more of a longer-term problem. It was an issue of understanding, and since 'Jaune can heal quickly' was hardly something which required an immediate solution, understanding could wait. The other major concern, however, certainly required an immediate pause. Maximum Aura Strength: Unmeasured.

Now, that in itself wasn't a problem; ten minutes with a nurse was all it required. It was easy enough, that almost every student included the information. But that begged the question, why hadn't Jaune bothered?

With what he'd seen, he could hazard a guess.

Closing the student records, he opened up the archived security footage. In particular, he brought up the footage from Initiation, and from Glynda's combat class earlier that day. Skipping forwards, he found the relevant sections.

He looked at the 'bout' with the Winchester boy first, if it could even be called that. Despite wielding something taller than his own person, Jaune had danced around his bulkier opponent, like a wasp nagging a bull. Cardin had never even hit him once.

It was the same way with Initiation, too: not quite as elegant, since the melee had been far more chaotic, but still a remarkable display of impenetrable defence. There were a few minor scrapes and bruises, but through all of initiation, he also hadn't taken a single significant hit.

Those hits from Pyrrha Nikos were the first significant blows he'd taken.

Finishing up his coffee, he opened up the latest footage, from fifteen minutes ago. Jaune mistimes a combat roll, shield clangs into his head, pommel follows a second later. An efficient move on Miss Nikos' part, but playing it back more slowly, it confirmed what he'd seen in real time.

The camera was old, the lighting was somewhat dubious, and the action was distant, all resulting in a rather low-quality picture. Besides, the small details were somewhat overshadowed by the whole 'broken neck' issue that immediately followed. But it was there. Grainy and difficult to notice without specifically looking, it was nonetheless there, and it told him that they'd need to be very careful with Jaune Arc in the future.

Right there, right when shield met head, was the distinct ripple of Jaune's Aura breaking in one hit.

She'd never taken a bath before.

She knew what baths were, of course. They'd hardly been a niche concept before Aragami started existing, so old books and older records were filled with mentions of them. Sadly, with said existence of Aragami limiting every resource, nobody could justify using so much water when the most Spartan of showers would suffice. As such, she'd never had the opportunity and/or pleasure to sit back, soak, and just relax in a nice, warm tub of gently soothing water.

Thankfully, there were no water shortages in Atlas.

She kneaded out another knot in her shoulder as she leant back into the water. Atlas. She'd been in the country for all of four days, but it already felt like her motherland. Cold, snowy, tiny pockets of civilisation dotted around endless frozen waste, divided by ravening swarms of monsters, it was almost like being right back in Moscow. While some would bemoan the distinct lack of vodka, the extra amenities (such as food other than yet-another-protein-gruel) more than made up for it. Besides, any familiarity in a strange land was more than welcome.

A tap on the bathroom door brought her back from her reverie. "Hey, Alisa? Just reminding you, lights out are in fifteen."

Alas, if only there were more hours in the day. "Got it. I'll be out in a moment." Letting one more wave of warmth suffuse through here, she grudgingly climbed out of the tub. She ignored the frugalist in her as the water slowly drained away, distracting it with a suitably fluffy towel to dry herself.

She was halfway through drying her hair when the unfamiliar ring of her scroll went off. Who would be calling her this late? Hardly anyone had her number, Lindow and everyone there were probably already asleep, which left –

"Salutations!"

"Erm… Hello?"

Which left her new partner to answer her scroll for her. Great. Muttering half a curse, she wrapped herself in a towel before tromping out into her dorm. "Penny. Please don't answer other people's scrolls."

Her orange-haired teammate paused significantly, as if considering far more things than necessary. "Understood. However, it was to my understanding that your contact 'Jaune' would not have appreciated the failure of his call to connect. Was my understanding incorrect?"

"Well – no. It's more that people don't like other using their things – scrolls, clothes, toothbrushes, whatever – with permission. Honestly, it's probably better that you picked up, but next time, tell me before you do that. Is that okay?"

"Understood. I will commit this to memory." With an exaggeratedly-mechanical nod, she turned back to the scroll in hand. "Contact 'Jaune', I will transfer you to Leader Alisa."

Holding back an exasperated sigh, she took her scroll back. Given she wanted some privacy for the call, and didn't want to wander around school in a towel, she turned straight back into the bathroom. "Sorry about that," she said. "Penny is… a girl of many interesting quirks."

"I can see that." Even though they'd been apart less than a week, it was still good to see and hear her Captain again. On the other side of the call, Jaune sat on a bed, lazing against a wall. "Sheltered upbringing, I guess?"

"Maybe? I've known her for all of two days." There really wasn't anywhere to sit in the bathroom, so she did the best she could and nestled back in the now-empty bathtub. "While it makes sense, I don't know her well enough to ask yet."

"Point taken. On the other hand, it sounds like you're doing well. You're a Team Leader now?"

"Yes." It was a small thing in the scheme of things, but she was still proud of what she'd achieved, and she straightened herself to look more authoritative (well, as much as she could in a bath towel). "Officially, I am now Alisa Ilinichina Amiella, Leader of Team Apricot of Atlas Academy, personally appointed by General and Headmaster James Ironwood himself."

"Charming. Was that written in your student handbook?"

"Word for word exactly."

A moment of calm passed, before both of them let out a light chuckle. She'd missed him, and he'd missed her.

Once the calm returned, Jaune began again. "So, Team Apricot. Is your team fine? Any early teething problems?"

She gave herself a moment to evaluate. "Well, everyone's civil right now, but I won't say that things are perfect. You saw Penny, and I can just feel that she'll bring some problems down the line. And the others – Flynt and Neon – I think they were old friends before coming here, and they both wanted Flynt to be their leader. They're cooperating, but skeptically."

"Ah. Well, at least it sounds like you should be able to nip that before it become too serious. Just – wait a moment. How do you spell Apricot with an F and an N?"

That was the thing he'd latched onto? "With surnames. Amiella – Polendina – Coal – Katt. A-P-C-K – Apricot, apparently."

"Really?" Jaune scratched his head. "I can see it, but it's tenuous at best. Was that really the best they could do?"

"If you can think of anything better, you're more than welcome to send it back to me. And anyway, I know that I need to earn the trust of my teammates and lead by example and all that. The General already included that in his welcoming speech. There are problems, but I'll manage."

"Glad to hear it. Anything else on your end?"

"Only that the beds are extremely uncomfortable. How about you? How's everything holding up at Beacon?"

Jaune hesitated. It was a tiny, tiny hesitation, one that nobody would notice without spending every day at his side for two years, but it was there nonetheless. "On the whole, things are fine –"

"Jaune C. Arc, what went wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, just a bit too quickly. One quizzical raise of an eyebrow, and he wavered. "Well, nothing big. Like with you, it's some team teething problems. I'll figure it out on my own."

A minor warning flashed in the back of her head. While Jaune was mostly good at solving his own problems, when he failed, he botched them beyond repair. "Are you sure you don't want an external perspective? Remember what happened with Kanon, with the –"

"Please don't remind me," he interrupted, with all the grace of a machine. Admittedly, it was a cheap shot, but it was for his own good. He seemed to recognise it, too. "But I guess it wouldn't hurt to listen to your thoughts. Like I said, it's a team bonding issue. Everything was fine until two hours ago, when I got injured in some light sparring. Oracle Cells fixed the damage, but since then my teammates have been noticeably more distant. I'm probably missing something obvious, but I'm not seeing it clearly at the moment."

"Okay." Jaune wasn't giving the full details, but from that brief description, nothing sounded too off. Oracle-based regeneration looked normal, after all. "It sounds like the exact sort of thing that you'd do, so I'm guessing they just don't know you well enough and got taken by surprise."

"It's plausible," he agreed. "What bit would be the most surprising, then?"

She shook her head. "With how well I know you, I doubt that anything you'd do would surprise me. Do you have anyone else to talk to? Ask that same question, just to someone else at Beacon."

"Huh." Jaune pondered the issue for a moment, before giving a slow nod of acceptance. "Yeah, I can see how that might help. I know someone. If things are still awkward tomorrow, I'll talk to her."

"No problem, Captain." Of course, it would have been better for him to talk to his new friend straight away, but one day seemed fine to lose, and a bit of self-conviction was good in a leader. "Glad to help. Anything else on your end?"

"Only that Grimm Study classes are extremely boring. Once the team gels together some more, I'll look for some alternative arrangements."

"Please don't do anything stupid of self-endangering."

"Don't worry. I won't."

The conversation branch over, a relaxed lull once again descended. Or at least it would have, had Flynt not knocked on the door again. "Hey, Alisa. Lights out in five. Better finish up with your call soon."

"Got it." She turned back to Jaune. "Well, you heard him. Any last-minute things?"

Half an intense second of brain-wracking followed. "I miss you."

Her heart wanted to flutter, but she knew there was no subtext there. "I miss you too. Hope it works out with your team."

"And the same for you. Good night."

"Good night."

It was now 'tomorrow'.

My teammates were still keeping a cautious distance.

The night's rest had mellowed them out a little, but compared to breakfast the previous day, they were all still noticeably more tense. If I wanted to clutch at straws, I could wait another day for improvements, but returns were definitely diminishing.

With that said, those returns still weren't zero. It was a rather utilitarian way of thinking, but if I had something non-interactive to do by myself, it was better to do it now. There would be a point where time stopped healing and started festering, but it wouldn't be that morning.

Hence, I took the morning to do some weapon adjustments.

Invida Mors was a masterpiece. Its replica was the opposite. Cumbersome, unwieldy, with each of its functions being slow and inefficient, it was almost a miracle that I could use it close to well. The only saving grace was that I knew it was a cumbersome, unwieldy, inefficient piece of junk, so I could take measures to mitigate those flaws.

Thus, there I was, in the workshop under the school, ready to modify. But to even start, I'd need to disassemble it first. Therein lay the first problem: as much as it was a piece of junk, it was an incredibly sturdy piece of junk. There was no obvious place to start the disassembly – at least, not to my eyes – which left me to gather the largest hammer and drill I could find, and to carefully consider the least bad place to apply them.

Thankfully, a familiar face arrived at that point. "Hey, Jaune, I didn't – what are you doing please stop."

"Hey, Ruby. I'm trying to make some adjustments to my weapon, and I'd appreciate your help in figuring out where to begin."

With Ruby's help, we only had to remove two nails, eighteen screws, four tungsten pins, some superglue, one foot of duct tape, and something which was suspiciously similar to asbestos, to open the main housing and expose the inner workings. "Do you think you'll be fine now?" Ruby asked. "No more destroying everything with drills and hammers?"

"I'll probably need your input again later, but I'll poke around a bit first." Ruby looked slightly concerned about that, but I continued quickly. "Nothing destructive or harsh – it's just to make sure that I know what everything does, so the tweaks I make will actually do what I want them to do. I'll be gentle."

Ruby didn't look fully convinced, but given that she could complain right away if I did anything too stupid, she gave me the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, Jaune. If you need help or an extra point of view, just ask, alright?"

"Alright." That reminded me – I needed to ask for her perspective on what had happened yesterday. But that could wait a bit, after some tweaking.

What was the most important thing to adjust? Balance, for sure. Better balance meant better manoeuvrability, which meant better offence and defence. Right now, the centre of mass was too far forwards. While good for bludgeoning, the momentum was a little too uncontrollable. It needed to move a good inch-and-a-half closer to the hilt.

So that meant taking weight away from the blade, or adding weight to the base. I was used to the length, so I didn't want to make the blade shorter. Tapering it somewhat was an option, but it would take a long time, could make the blade weaker, and a dodgy twitch of the grinder would break everything. That left adding more weight. Carrying it around wouldn't be ideal, but it was nothing some extra conditioning couldn't fix.

(Ruby, meanwhile, had taken out her scythe – Crescent Rose, I think she called it – and had just started cleaning and oiling it. Routine maintenance, but certainly important.)

So where was the best place to add that weight? Well, if I remembered my physics correctly, as far away from the centre of mass as possible. The exact mechanism didn't spring to mind, but attaching a good amount of steel to the base of the hilt felt like a decent plan.

I left Ruby to her maintenance, in search of the proper equipment. I returned two minutes later, in failure and disappointment. "Ruby? Do you know where they keep the plasma torches?"

Ruby, previously distracted in her work, took a long pause to respond. "I don't think they let us do our own welding, Jaune."

"Really? That's a shame." The proper metalworkers would do it quickly enough, but that would still mean coming back later. For now, nothing to do but move on. The next most important thing would be shield deployment speed. Not getting eaten was always –

"Jaune? Are you feeling alright?"

"Hmm?" I turned back to the only other person in the room. "I feel fine. Why do you ask?"

Ruby fidgeted slightly now I was looking at her. "I don't know. It's just… you seem a little reckless today. Are you sure everything's fine?"

Reckless? Oh, with the destructive disassembly and adventures in welding. "I think I get where you're coming from. I wouldn't call it recklessness myself, though. More…" It took a moment for the right words to come to mind. "More of a general favour for efficiency over elegance. I guess it's just who I am these days."

"Nuh-uh."

I raised an eyebrow at the strange noise. "Excuse me?"

"Nuh-uh." The concern on Ruby's face had been replaced by some sort of irritation. It didn't look quite right on her. "Jaune, that's not an excuse. In fact, that's practically the definition of recklessness."

"I'm pretty sure it isn't." I pulled out my scroll to check, but Ruby scooted over to me before I could.

"Not the point, Jaune. Look." She pointed to something in the internals of my weapon. "This is a bank of five-megafarad capacitors. These usually only get used on Bullheads and security droids. Do you know what happens when you hit these with a hammer?"

"Bad things, presumably."

"They explode!" Ruby did briefly raise her hands into the air for emphasis. "And when one explodes, the rest explode, and then all you have left is broken metal and disappointment. And this," she continued, pointing at something else, "this is the largest polymer battery I've ever seen. I don't know why you'd use it when you could use a dust battery, but do you know what happens when you drill into this?"

"It explodes?"

"Worse than that! It catches on fire, lets out poison smoke, then explodes! Why did you think drilling anywhere near this was a good idea?"

"In my defence, I just thought it wasn't a terrible idea."

"Well you should have thought better. If you'd made even one wrong move, who knows what would have happened? It's the same thing with blowtorches. Have you ever used one before? Do you know the right fuel to use? The right temperature setting? The right safety equipment? The right amount of ventilation? Do you know anything about metalworking?"

"No, no, no, no, no, and no."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about! You can't be this reckless. I don't know how long you've been like this, but you've been lucky so far. I don't want to think about what happens if that luck runs out. Jaune, you have to look after your own safety. Please."

With those words, silence fell in the workshop, as both took the moment to reflect.

Oddly, Ruby reacted before I did, almost shrinking away. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to –"

"Don't be."

"– go off on you like that and what did you just say?"

"Don't be sorry," I repeated, scratching my head. "You didn't say anything wrong."

Remnant wasn't Earth. Yes, both had unending hordes of ravening monsters, but Remnant still had regular optimism, while Earth was left with nothing but desperation. There had always been too many factors at play, each one of which had death looming over, that the smallest ones always had to be left to blind faith. It had been the only viable way of life on Earth, but here, as Ruby suggested, it stank of reckless self-endangerment.

A faint flicker of hope began to cross Ruby's face. "Do you mean –?"

"I can see your point, and I'll be more considerate of my actions in the future." While Ruby's response there had been perhaps more emotional than the average person's, I could see that a distinct lack of self-concern would be, well, concerning. Given that I didn't want to alienate myself from everyone around me, I'd need to be more careful with my actions from now on.

It took a moment to sink in, but once it did, Ruby immediately started beaming and wrapped me in a hug. "Thank you, Jaune! Thank you, thanks for listening to me, please take care of yourself and don't do stupid things and –"

I hugged her back, giving her a couple of pats for good measure, and let her joyous rambling fill the room.

If anyone had walked into the room at that point, there could have been some sort of 'hilarious misunderstanding'. Thankfully, it was underground, on the second day of the semester, at a time where most people had their electives, so everyone else was miles away from here. Hence, there were no such episodes, and we were left in peace.

Ruby rambled on for a good fifteen seconds, before she seemed to realise the lack of personal space. Slightly awkwardly, she unravelled herself from the hug. "Sorry about that. I got a bit too excited, and I tend to ramble when I get excited, and I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

I smiled back. "Don't worry about it." Now, might as well ask about the issue from yesterday, even if I could guess the answer. "Just out of curiosity, though – and I think I know already, just looking for a second opinion – how reckless would you consider training after an injury?"

The obvious subtext did cause a spark of alarm to cross Ruby's face, but it was calmed again two seconds later. If it was something I was specifically trying to avoid, there was nothing to be worried about. "Well, that depends," she began, sitting back next to her scythe. "Maybe if it's a small bruise or a graze, it's fine to carry on if your Aura's still up, but anything worse than that? A twisted ankle? That's definitely reckless."

Something that minor? Well, then, carrying on with a broken neck would be like watching the most disturbingly-realistic horror movie. Probably why my team looked so out of it. "That's what I thought. Thanks for the input."

Ruby smiled and nodded, before turning back to her weapon. I did the same. Yes, I now knew the problem with my team and could solve it, except, if the clocks were accurate, they were still in the middle of their morning lectures. Better to wait until lunch – a full stomach would make the procedure go more smoothly anyway.

In the meantime, back to weapon tinkering.

Pyrrha poked at her food.

She knew it was good food. Grilled chicken, a jacket potato, baked beans, with a light fruit salad for dessert. Hearty, nutritious, filling and flavourful, it was a perfect meal for any student at Beacon.

She put her fork down. She may as well have been eating cardboard.

"So how was your Survival class, Pyr?"

"Hmm?" She turned to the other girl on her team. Nora looked similarly unenthused about her food, but she was still forcing it down. "This morning, you mean?"

Nora swallowed a mouthful of potato. "Yep. Unless you had any other Survival classes. Did you have any other classes? Did I miss a class? Ren's going to be –"

"No, there was just the one, if it could even be called that." She rearranged some beans as Nora redirected her train of thought. "There weren't many students – only about seven or eight – and we showed up on time, in the gardens. But Professor Peach didn't show up until two hours later."

Nora furrowed her brow at that. "Really? Any reason why?"

"It might not have been the best way of teaching, but the lesson did make sense," she replied. "Once she arrived, she pointed out that, in a real survival situation, we'd all have succumbed to exposure."

Nora gave half a nod of acceptance, before reversing it. "Wait. She used two hours of all of your time just for that one thing?"

She nodded. "She said it was better if we experience it rather than reading it." Of course, Beacon gardens hardly compared to the wilds, but she personally felt that the distant mumbles and whispers about her from her classmates helped bridge the gap.

"That's… good, I guess." Nora let her voice trail off, turning her attention back to her food.

Silence fell.

It would have been easy to break it – a simple question of 'how were your first electives' to her teammates at the table, and the conversation would flow again. But then it would just dry up again, just as quickly. None of them – her, Nora, Ren – wanted to talk, because all of them had the same issue in mind.

There was something wrong with their leader.

She held a nervous swallow as she thought back to the previous day. Such a blur of emotions – pride and joy and confusion and horror and despair and shock and blind hope and absolution and more confusion and wrongness – it had been difficult to pick the exact source of the feeling. With a night's sleep, though, with two hours in a garden alone with her thoughts, it had become obvious.

A normal person did not brush off a broken neck like it was nothing.

She finished a glass of water. If her appetite was missing, and all conversation was doomed to failure, there was little point in staying here. She began to stand up. "I think I'll head off now."

"Already? But you've barely eaten anything."

That voice. It didn't quite shock the three of them, or make them flinch, but it came close. Lost in their thought, they'd failed to notice their leader walking up to them, food tray in hand.

She had to take a moment to collect her thoughts, but the explanation was easy. "I'm not hungry right now."

"Really? That's a shame," Jaune replied, sitting right next to her. "But do you mind staying a little longer? There's something I want to talk to the three of you about."

She briefly turned to Ren and Nora, but both of them knew as little as she did. Still, she sat back down. There may have been something wrong with her leader, but if he wanted to talk, she was still obliged to listen.

"Thanks, partner."

Jaune took a long, slow sip of his orange juice.

He put down the glass.

He then clapped his hands together and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, guys. Please forgive me."

Well, this certainly hadn't be something she'd expected five minutes ago. Again she turned to her other teammates, and again they knew as little as she did. "Jaune, what are you apologizing for?"

Jaune did not raise his head. "It has been brought to my attention that some of my actions yesterday were needlessly reckless and caused all of you unnecessary distress. I sincerely apologise, and will attempt to avoid such distress again in the future."

Reckless? Possibly. Distressing? Definitely. It was good that he now recognised it, and it made him seem a little more normal.

Still, though, something about the apology didn't quite sit right with her. She couldn't quite put a precise finger on it, but the lingering feeling was still there. "It's okay, Jaune. You can lift your head."

"Nope. Not until I'm sure you're all okay."

"Really, it's fine, Jaune."

This could have continued for too long, had not Ren chimed in. "It was more the surprise," he added. "Looking back, I don't think you did anything wrong, per se, but more than we weren't used to your approach."

Like water parting, it was exactly the exact thing she was looking for. While something was likely wrong with Jaune, he hadn't done anything wrong. From his bowed posture and sincerity, anyone would think he'd insulted their mothers, but it was nothing of the sort. Treating a broken neck as less than a mosquito bite was certainly nonstandard to the point of being disturbing, and something she wouldn't want to get used to, but it wasn't inherently wrong.

"Renny's right," Nora followed. "I like that you're thinking of us – yesterday was scary, I'm not going to lie – but it's not fair without us also thinking of you."

"Exactly," she finished. "This is something we'll have to solve as a team, not just from you alone. Lift your head, Jaune."

Her partner briefly tilted his head up, just checking, that yes, they were all sincere, before sitting back up. "Thanks, all of you. Obviously, I'm not going to try cause you needless discomfort, but it means a lot that you're all willing to work together with me."

"It's not a problem. That's what teammates are for."

Smiling at that, he raised his orange juice. "I'll drink to that. For Team Juniper, becoming the best team we can?"

She raised her water as well. "To Team Juniper."

"For Team Juniper."

"To Juniper!"

When the glasses were clinked and the drinks were drunk, Nora spoke up again. "Hey, Leader? I know that you can heal quickly – we all saw that – but since we'll be sparring later in training sessions and all that, how strong is it? I mean, I definitely don't want to hurt you accidentally, and Pyr and Renny won't want to as well, so it would be good to know the limits so we don't –"

"I understand, Nora," Jaune interrupted. "I get it, and I suppose it make sense to be open about it. Let's see."

He leant back slightly, looking above their heads. "Firstly, I'd want everything from the neck up to remain in one recognisable piece. I can deal with a skullcrack or broken jaw, but not getting decapitated or getting my entire skull caved in. Similarly, I'd want my torso to remain in one piece, so don't bisect me at the hip or waist or anywhere.

"What else… right, I don't really want to find out what happens if I lose all my blood, so I'd strongly prefer for sharp objects to stay away from my heart. In regards to extremities, I'm pretty sure I can handle the loss of a limb, but not two and definitely not three, and I'm being disturbing again, aren't I?"

Nora looked at her. She looked at Ren. Ren looked back to Nora. In unison, they gave one slow nod.

Maybe they had been a little hasty in assuming everything would be perfect. While it was good that he recognised it and was working to mitigate it, there was still something wrong with their leader.

So, as it turns out, dissertations are a massive pain. Guess what else are massive pains? Final exams. Joy. I had just enough time for this update, but again, don't expect anything else for a while.

Content-wise, there are a couple of points worth mentioning. The underlying idea of this chapter was 'being a God Eater has changed Jaune', but it took several revisions to get it to the right feel. If you play the GE games, you'll probably get beaten up many times, by a large variety of monstrosities. Each time, though, you'll just carry on like it didn't happen, maybe only taking a health pill. You don't think about it because it's a game, but in reality, someone just carrying on after being almost blown up or decapitated would be rather unnerving, to say the least. That was the feel I was going for – completely normal from Jaune's view, but unnatural under the surface – and I hope it hit the right mark.

For the Ozpin POV, I probably didn't do as much research as I should. It have been best to rewatch most of RWBY, to get a proper balance between caring and calculating, expect I didn't have the time or willpower. I don't think I've written anything wildly OOC for against canon, but there's portably some minor contradictions.

In regards to Alisa, given that she would be in Atlas, she would always need a team. Penny was the obvious choice: she actual has more than one note to her character, and it would provide an easy way to integrate her into Jaune's story. I didn't want to include any OCs this early on, in a role which could potentially have story roles, so that left two from Ciel, Flynt and Neon. I went for Flynt and Neon because it felt wrong to split them apart, and because Ciel has all the character and personality of a clock with a face drawn on it.

On the last parts, it's quite possible that the whole reflect-on-your-actions thing should happen several chapters later, for a more naturally flowing character development arc, but that would mean writing a mostly-dysfunctional JNPR for those chapters, so it put all of NPR's development on the backburner. Obviously I went towards making the team mostly-functional again.

Also, I went back and made some extremely minor edits to Chapters 1 and 2: I corrected three typos, and reworded two sentences. Anyone who finds all those edits will win absolutely nothing.

So overall, Jaune's warped, he knows that other people think he's warped, and he's started taking measures to address that. Will they work? How will his team continue to react to the new Jaune? Will I think of a reasonable way to integrate thee other members of RWBY? Find out next time, coming out whenever-it-comes-out. Probably August or something.