The ride back to LUCID passed in a strange haze.
Jaune barely remembered being lifted onto a special transport. He recalled hands steadying him and voices asking questions. Even the low hum of engines, as the facility receded beneath layers of reinforced plating and sealed corridors. Everything felt distant, as if he were watching events unfold through water.
Two Rank 2's accompanied him.
They weren't Specialists, like Winter who had a meta rune, yet they were still combat veterans of that rank.
They sat opposite of Jaune, eyes sharp despite their composed expressions.
One of them spoke first.
"Tell us what happened," he said calmly. "From your perspective."
Jaune swallowed and shifted against the padded stretcher of the transport. His body protested the movement, a dull ache flaring through muscles that had not yet forgiven him.
He told them everything he could.
About Watts, the Centurions and about the new Centurion android that had taken Blake and Weiss. About his meta rune interacting with that Auraless thing.
Then he reached the part he still had not fully processed.
"My father appeared," Jaune said quietly. "Nicholas Arc."
Neither of them interrupted him as he described the paralysis, the way his body had been frozen while his mind remained fully aware.
When Jaune finished, the silence stretched.
"That matches other intelligence," one of them said finally. "About your fathers' abilities."
Jaune looked at him. "Atlas knew he was here?"
The man did not deny it. "Considering that he's already made a big mess out of everything, I suppose it would make little sense to keep it from you. Though, we'll still need to verify if you truly have no connection to that man besides being blood."
He paused.
"He was in Rime, previously."
That answer did not help.
The rest of the journey passed quietly after that.
When the transport docked at the, now not so ruined tunnel, Jaune was escorted directly to the medical wing. They had went through the same way that Jaune, Blake and Weiss had entered the research lab, however the surrounding debris in the tunnels had been cleared away by someone. The base itself, while still damaged in certain areas didn't have broken flooring and giant floor holes from attacks anymore. It seemed that someone with a construction rune of some sort must have stepped in to fix everything.
He was transferred onto a medical bed with practiced efficiency.
A technician approached with a small translucent container filled with a viscous electric pink liquid. Thin strands of light crawled through it like lazy lightning.
"Drink this," she said. "Slowly."
Jaune accepted it with trembling fingers.
The liquid tasted faintly sweet and metallic. As it slid down his throat, he felt a gentle warmth spread outward from his core.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Byproduct of a restoration rune," she replied. "Highly regulated, but it helps accelerate recovery of fatigued tissues."
Jaune nodded and handed the container back once it was empty.
The medical analysis took longer.
Sensors scanned his body repeatedly. Lines of light traced his circulatory system. The medical technician in charge approached his bedside.
"Your body is under extreme systemic fatigue," she said. "Not just your muscles, but your organs as well. Heart, lungs, even renal function shows signs of stress."
Jaune closed his eyes briefly.
That explained a lot.
"You will need some supplemental recovery treatments for a while," she continued.
"Can't we use a healing rune?"
"Sorry. You don't have any critical injuries. Those are usually only saved for debilitating injuries that might affect your combat output. Your issues are mostly from fatigue and microtears. You don't need it."
"Right." Jaune said.
She raised an eyebrow. "Well... do take care of yourself. Try not to do anything reckless while you're here."
He nodded slowly.
When Jaune had absorbed Rank Two power, it wasn't integrated properly. His body never underwent Rank Two life elevation, which essentially meant that he didn't have the reinforced foundation.
What Jaune had taken from the Centurion wasn't entirely just strength, it was raw runic energy. It acted like a fake foundation. Powerful enough to function, but unstable. His body was essentially trying to operate at a level it wasn't built for.
He almost laughed at that thought.
Plunder was absurdly powerful. It let him steal what others had earned. But power taken was not power grown.
His body had paid the price.
"If that fight had gone on any longer," Jaune said softly, "my organs might have failed."
In a strange way, his father's arrival might have saved his life. Jaune wasn't even sure if that final strike would have killed Watts. He wouldn't have put it past the man to survive, somehow. Regardless of how strong Jaune had been at the time, Arthur Watts was still a genuine rank 2. Jaune didn't know how many trump cards he might have had on hand.
That thought left a bitter taste.
He replayed the fight in his mind.
A Rank One holding ground against a Rank Two.
That alone was almost unheard of.
Across all recorded history, instances of a lower rank defeating a higher ranked opponent could be counted on one hand. Those events were studied, argued over and turned into legends.
Jaune had come dangerously close to becoming one of them.
Did that make him special?
Yes.
Undeniably.
But it also terrified him.
Because now he knew the cost.
He had no illusions about repeating that feat anytime soon. Plunder had limits and so did his body. Next time, there might be no one to interrupt the moment his foundation collapsed completely.
For now, all he wanted was rest.
Not glory or answers.
Just the quiet certainty of waking up tomorrow without his body threatening to tear itself apart.
Jaune had just started to relax when the soft whirr of wheels approached his bedside.
The sound pulled him back from the edge of sleep, that careful half state he had been hovering in. Perhaps that was a good thing. He didn't know if he had it in him to hunt any grimm at the moment in the dream realm.
Pietro Pollendina rolled into view, hands resting atop the arm supports of his chair. His expression was tired, lined with more worry than Jaune remembered seeing on him before. Perched on his shoulder was a tiny, glowing projection.
Penny.
Her chibi holographic form sat with her legs dangling over Pietro's collarbone, hands folded in her lap. The brightness she usually carried seemed muted, her eyes a little too large and a little too sad.
Jaune pushed himself upright with a groan, propping himself against the raised head of the bed.
"Hey," he said, voice raspy but warm. "Doctor Pollendina."
Pietro smiled faintly. "Good to see you awake, Jaune."
Jaune turned his head slightly. "Hey, Penny."
Her hologram perked up immediately, though the sadness did not fully leave her expression. "Hello, Jaune." She tilted her head. "How are you feeling?"
Jaune snorted softly and rolled his shoulders as if testing them. The movement made him wince, but he waved it off. "Just peachy."
Penny frowned. "That is a lie, friend Jaune."
Pietro sighed, long and heavy, the sound of a man carrying more guilt than he knew what to do with.
"Jaune," he said quietly, "I am so sorry."
Jaune blinked and looked back at him. "For what?"
"For this," Pietro said, gesturing vaguely toward Jaune's body, the medical equipment, the situation as a whole. "I did not anticipate this outcome. I truly believed that the plan would be sufficient."
Jaune leaned back slightly, resting his head against the pillow. "You mean the plan against Watts?"
Pietro nodded slowly. "Yes. Arthur anticipated far more than I expected. He prepared countermeasures for nearly every variable."
Jaune exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. That sounds like him."
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then spoke again. "But it wasn't really Watts who predicted everything."
Pietro looked up at him.
"He had help," Jaune said quietly. "From my father. His runes are... special."
Pietro's shoulders slumped. "I heard."
The word carried weight.
"I still feel responsible," Pietro continued. "Penny was involved and even my own rune was involved yet, you were placed in harm's way because of it."
Jaune shook his head slowly. "No. That's not how this works. You didn't force me to fight. You didn't make Watts do what he did. And you definitely didn't make my father show up."
Pietro did not argue, but the guilt did not leave his eyes.
Penny shifted on his shoulder. "I am also sorry, Jaune," she said softly. "If I had accounted for the sabotage that Watts had placed upon my body, none of that would have occurred and we might have gotten out safe."
Jaune smiled faintly at her. "Hey. None of that. In truth, even if you did account for it, it probably wouldn't have mattered. Like I said before. My father... his runes are special."
She looked unconvinced.
Jaune changed the subject before the mood could sink any further.
"So," he said, turning his head toward Pietro, "how did it go in Rime?"
Pietro's expression darkened.
"It was dire," he said. "The Dream Realm city was completely destroyed and so was the surrounding wilderness. It was reduced to nothing for hundreds of kilometers."
Jaune's brow furrowed. "And the Grimm?"
"It escaped."
Jaune let out a low breath. "Figures."
"And General Ironwood," Pietro continued, "is currently undergoing medical treatment."
That caught Jaune's attention.
"Ironwood was injured?" he asked.
"Yes," Pietro confirmed. "Though not severely."
Jaune frowned, thinking it over.
He did not know much about Rank Three awakened beyond reports. But what he did know was enough to make the picture unsettlingly clear.
Rank Threes were no longer limited by the Dream Realm and reality.
They had the ability to enter it physically at will, without relying on the power of the Nightmare system.
There was no longer a distinction between spirit form and real world body, at Rank 3. Their awakened state allowed them to manifest their full existence within reality, bringing one hundred percent of their power with them.
It was not projection but presence.
If Ironwood had been injured fighting something at that level, then the situation in Rime had been far worse than Jaune had imagined.
"That makes sense," Jaune said quietly. "If the Grimm escaped, then he probably took the brunt of it."
Pietro nodded. "He did."
The room fell silent for a few seconds, then Pietro cleared his throat.
"Jaune," he said carefully, "there is something else I need to tell you."
Jaune stiffened. Something in Pietro's tone set off alarm bells immediately.
"Okay," Jaune said slowly. "What is it?"
Pietro hesitated.
He looked away for a moment, then back at Jaune, as if weighing how to phrase his words.
"This concerns your friend," he said. "Your teammate, Weiss."
Jaune's chest tightened.
"Weiss? What's wrong with her? Is she alright?" he asked. Jaune was worried that the centurion that attacked her might have caused some type of irreparable damage to her body. Though, from when he scanned her with his weakness sense, he hadn't felt that. Perhaps he had missed something?
"The young miss Schnee is fine, but..."
Pietro did not answer immediately.
Jaune sat up straighter, ignoring the protest from his muscles. "What happened?"
Pietro took a breath. "During the ball," he began, "after the operatives had departed to return to base, something occurred."
Jaune's hands clenched in the sheets.
"At approximately the same time the Centurions at the research facility went out of control," Pietro continued, "the Centurions that were unveiled at the convention were also remotely overridden."
Jaune felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
"They turned on the Schnee family," Pietro said quietly.
The words landed like a blow.
Jaune stared at him, mind struggling to process what he had just heard.
"They attacked Weiss's family," Pietro clarified. "The attendants. The guards. Anyone in their immediate vicinity."
"Oh God..."