Jaune sat at the edge of the above ground military base's highest building, legs dangling over a world that looked carved from frost and consequence.
At night, Atlas was akin to a cathedral of steel and glass with its lights burning through the blizzard like stubborn stars. Snow drifted from the sky in slow spirals. Each flake looked delicate and beautiful—descending like cold memory of an angel's tears.
It gathered on rooftops, railings and shoulders, a white shroud pulled gently across the world. The wind carried it sideways in thin veils, as though the sky were quietly erasing its own handwriting.
Beside him, Penny's chibi form flickered softly, like a tiny lantern against the dark. She sat with her legs tucked neatly beneath her, small hands resting on the edge of the roof. Her projection did not disturb the snow.
She was mid explanation.
"…so you see, Jaune, before I became a machine spirit, my three three runes, were Machine, Composite and Transformate." she continued brightly, though the brightness felt carefully measured.
Jaune nodded, eyes still fixed on the horizon where the sky and tundra dissolved into one endless sheet of blue gray.
"Father's Sacrifice rune was what allowed me to live," Penny said softly. "But it was Machine and Transformate that sustained my existence long enough for that to occur."
She clasped her hands together.
"Machine had once allowed me to create and interface mechanical constructs as though they were an extension of my own body. Composite reinforced my creations and made as well as made my body less… fragile. And Transformate allowed restructuring of my machines at a fundamental level."
A pause.
"When my original form failed, Transformate prevented total spiritual collapse and Machine was able to preserve continuity of self within synthetic architecture."
Jaune exhaled slowly. A cloud of breath dissolved into the snow.
"So you pretty much refused to die," he said.
Penny tilted her head.
"I delayed it, certainly. But it was really close. My father had to go through great lengths to be able to reach comprehension in his Sacrifice rune."
The wind shifted, pushing flakes across the rooftop in thin whispering currents.
Jaune nodded again. He had already heard the explanation earlier, but not the entire story. It gave her something to talk about and it gave him something to focus on besides Weiss's situation.
Penny continued, perhaps sensing that silence would otherwise grow too heavy.
"Watts's Cyber, and Integration runes were only at comprehension. And corroborating with your father's statement, that was why you were able to defeat him."
Jaune's eyes narrowed slightly at the name.
"Cyber allowed direct control and augmentation of technological systems and Integration enabled him to merge systems into... synergistic frameworks, right?"
She clasped her hands behind her back, feet kicking lightly in the air.
"Indeed. They are powerful in infrastructure manipulation and battlefield control," she added. "However, they lack direct offensive amplification in combat. His configuration was optimized for research and systems engineering. Though, I suppose all Rank 2's have at least some capacity to destroy other Rank 2s."
Jaune huffed a quiet laugh.
"Figures. He was controlling the battlefield more than winning it."
"Yes," Penny agreed. "That is accurate."
Snow gathered along Jaune's shoulders. He did not brush it off.
Far below, searchlights swept across the tundra, thin blades of white cutting through the dark. Atlas remained vigilant. Atlas always remained vigilant.
Jaune finally spoke, voice low.
"What type of grimm was it?" he said, more to himself than to her. "That Ironwood fought?"
"It had the appearance of a great Wyrm from legends. Except... city sized. I was told from the reports that its Runes were pretty much almost exactly a mirror of a dragon's theoretical powers. It could release fire from its mouth. But... instead of actual fire it was like a dark laser beam. Curiously however enough, it liked traveling beneath ground rather than fly, even though it was reported to have wings." Penny replied.
"Damn. And it was the size of a mountain or something right?"
"More like... a mountain range. It is, a city size beast, after all." Penny responded.
"That's just crazy to think about. What's even crazier is Ironwood being able to fight it."
"Yes but unfortunately the Grimm ran away and Ironwood still got hurt."
"I didn't even know grimm were able to run away. Weren't they all supposed to hate life and almost mindlessly try to kill all life no matter what?"
"In theory, yes but there is a reason as to why they are more intelligent. Unfortunately, I don't have the authorization to inform you of this. My father, Pietro might have the authorization, but this involves a bit of a deeper secret of the dream realm."
"Authorization again huh? Great."
"Will you be asking him about it, friend Jaune?"
"Nah. I can't be bothered at this point in time. I figure that sooner or later I'll hear about it."
"Understood."
The wind picked up again, lifting snow into the air in soft spirals. For a moment it looked like the sky was unraveling.
Jaune leaned forward, elbows on knees.
"Everything escalates," he murmured. "Every time we think we understand the board, someone flips it over."
Penny shifted closer, her holographic glow brushing against him like a phantom warmth.
"You are not responsible for the variables, that occurred today, friend Jaune." she said.
Jaune gave a faint smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Doesn't stop them from landing on my side."
The snow kept falling.
As if the heavens were practicing forgetting.
Penny seemed to hesitate slightly before asking her next question. "Will... you be checking on Weiss? She's... hurting right now and perhaps could use some comforting words."
Jaune didn't say anything for a moment.
"Yeah... I figured giving her some space would be best, but perhaps I really should check on her."
.
.
Jaune paused at the doorway to the ICU room before stepping inside.
Jacques Schnee lay on the bed, propped slightly upright by mechanical assistance. A translucent respiratory mask covered the lower half of his face, thin vapor misting with every guided breath. Cables and sensors traced careful paths across his temples and chest, small lights blinking in rhythm. A monitor at the side displayed brain activity in wavering green lines that rose and dipped like a hesitant tide.
His body was whole.
Not a scratch or a bruise. The healing rune had done its work flawlessly. Flesh was restored and his bones intact.
It was almost offensive how intact he looked.
Jaune knew how rare that kind of service was. Healing runes weren't handed out casually to the public. Especially not to someone who wasn't an awakened. But Jacques Schnee wasn't just anyone and the circumstances had torn through the usual rules like paper.
Physically, he had survived but neurologically, the damage remained.
Part of his brain had been destroyed when the Centurions turned on the convention hall. A retainer bodyguard of his had possessed a rapid lifesaving rune, that locked the body into a fragile stasis long enough for intervention. Without it, Jacques would have died before medical personnel could even reach him.
Later, a healing rune had restored his body. But his mind was another territory entirely.
No one knew when, or if, he would wake.
Weiss sat beside the bed, motionless.
That was the worst part.
Her gaze rested on her father's unmoving face as though she were studying a sculpture. The light from the monitors reflected faintly in her eyes, but there was nothing behind them. No anger, sharpness or her usual frost.
Just emptiness.
Jaune moved quietly to the corner of the room and lowered himself into a chair. He didn't speak, simply letting the sounds of the machines fill the silence.
A slow inhale, a mechanical exhale and a measured beep.
When Weiss and Blake had woken from their unconscious states—after exiting the Dream Realm—the news had come swiftly and somewhat brutally. The Centurions stationed at the convention had turned on their handlers at nearly the same time that Jaune had been searching for Penny's body-parts.
Her mother and her brother had been in attendance and they had not survived.
The words had been delivered clinically. Jaune had watched Weiss absorb them and he had never seen someone shatter so quietly.
Now she sat in that sterile room, staring at the man who had lived.
For a long time, nothing moved but the machines.
Jaune kept his gaze low. He understood that this space was not his to fill. Grief had its own gravity. Interrupting it felt wrong. Just his presence was enough of a comfort for Weiss.
Minutes passed.
Eventually, Weiss shifted.
She turned her head slightly, as if just remembering that he was there. Her eyes met his. They were rimmed faintly red, but dry.
A hollow laugh slipped from her lips.
"Funny," she said softly. "How things change in the span of a single day, doesn't it?"
Jaune said nothing.
Her gaze drifted back to the bed.
"Just two days ago," she continued, her voice thin but steady, "I was arguing with Whitley about something completely trivial. And my mother…" Her throat tightened. "She hugged me before we left... the convention hall."
Her fingers curled slightly in her lap.
"I remember thinking she smelled like her perfume. I almost told her to change it."
The machines continued their quiet chorus.
"I hugged them," Weiss said. "I hugged both of them."
Her voice cracked then, barely.
"And now…"
The sentence dissolved.
Jaune felt something heavy settle in his chest, but he kept still. He did not trust his voice to be anything but clumsy.
Weiss inhaled shakily.
"Why does it have to be like this?" she asked, though the question was not directed at him. It floated into the room like loose ash.
Jaune stared at the floor.
There were no answers that would not feel insulting.
She looked back at Jacques.
His chest rose and fell in artificial rhythm. The mask fogged. The monitor traced its wavering lines.
"The Centurion project was supposed to strengthen Atlas. Protect it."
Her jaw tightened.
"And instead…"
The word lingered unfinished.
After a moment, her shoulders sagged slightly.
"Perhaps this is retribution," she said quietly. "Perhaps this is what happens when you fund something you do not fully understand. Perhaps this is what he deserves."
The words felt sharp in the air.
Jaune finally looked up.
Weiss's expression didn't hold anger rather, guilt.
She covered her face with both hands.
"I told him I hated him once," she said, her voice muffled. "I said I wished he would disappear."
Her body trembled.
"I didn't mean like this."
Her face was flushed, eyes glassy and raw. She looked at him with something fragile and exhausted.
"I do not even know how to feel," she admitted. "I am angry and I am heartbroken. I am guilty for being angry. I am relieved he is alive. I am terrified he will never wake up."
Her voice broke.
"I do not know which part of me is real."
Jaune swallowed.
"They're all real," he said quietly.
She stared at him.
"All of it," he continued. "You don't have to pick one."
Weiss's expression wavered.
He hesitated before adding, "This isn't punishment. It's not balance. It's not fate keeping score. It's just… something terrible that happened."
He glanced at Jacques.
"And whatever he did or didn't deserve doesn't change how you feel about him."
She looked back at her father's unconscious form.
"I was going to confront him properly," she whispered. "Have a real conversation. About everything."
"I... see."
The tears came then.
Her shoulders shook with restrained sobs, as though even now she refused to let herself fall apart completely.
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon