G.N. Chapter 11 (Patreon)

Happy New Year and have a peek at this :)

I do not own Bloodborne or RWBY.

A very special thank you to Patrons; your support is the fuel that lets my creativity burn all the brighter. So, thank you to – E-Elf, Lee yang, Laplase, DocBot200, Richard, SkeletalPheonix Games, James Armstrong, Reed Gel, Alex, Jared Whitten and Cian Brady.

I hope this story continues to be worthy of your support.

Chapter 11 Sown Mania

The tension in the air was so thick it was suffocating; such was the sheer power of presence that the two heads of the Arc family carried. Both prime examples of the power and lethality of a Huntsmen, each a weapon built to combat a threat that sought the destruction of every single person on the face of the planet.

And it showed.

To these civilians, it was akin to standing before literal demigods, these two who stood against the unending hoards of Grimm and managed to beat the monsters back. What only worsened the situation was that the two Arcs were aware of the effect they could have on a regular person. It was one of the reasons Grimm targeted them first.

Huntsmen had a presence.

It was one of the aspects of having an Aura, the literal manifestation of their souls present and active. Right now, this presence had reduced the cluster of parents to silent fretful onlookers, the officers into nervous bystanders and the mother of Orchid Praetor into a trembling mute. But amongst those within this field of influence, two appeared unaffected, their son Jaune who smiled serenely from his seat and Sheriff Jett Throw, who stood adamantly before Jaune.

Upon closer inspection, one would see that the old Sheriff appeared entirely fed up with the situation he had found himself in. Indeed the entire evening had long since passed his threshold of ‘shit he was willing to put up with’. Now trapped in a room with two very… anxious Huntsman, he was more than a little tempted to leave the room and the school altogether.

Said Huntsman’s brat of a son was not helping his mood as the boy lounged on the couch, boldly displaying his cuffs as if to taunt the old Sheriff.

Before Jett could even begin to try and answer the question asked by Cloud or extricate himself from the Large Hunter’s arm, the door opened, welcoming in even more people to what was quickly becoming the Sheriff’s hell.

“What the hell, Arcs!” Dr Kaiser bellowed, seeing the absolute devastation of the office, his glare piercing as he stared down Cloud, barely sparing the still bloodthirsty Hellebore a glance.

“Kaiser! You’re here as well,” Cloud proclaimed almost jovially, his voice still carrying a sort of fake happiness that made his amicability feel oddly hostile.

“Yeah, did you see how I arrived? It’s called a door Arc, fucking use ‘em,” the old medic groused, moving past the two parents shooting a thumb over his shoulder as he did, “also one of your daughters is here.”

“Mum, Dad!” Scarlett cried out, rushing to her father and leaping on the towering man who eagerly held her with one hand, freeing the sheriff from his hold.

“Heya Sweety!” Cloud Arc cheered, hugging his eldest to his chest.

Dr Kaiser moved past the father and daughter and flopped on the couch next to Jaune, only earning a pointed stare from the Sheriff for his efforts. “How are you doing?” Dr Kaiser asked, shooting Jaune a bored look as Scarlett greeted her male parent with moist eyes and a relieved expression.

“All according to the plan….” Jaune mumbled calmly.

“… Right… how’s the arm?” Dr Kaiser grunted, obviously just trying to make conversation as he did his best to ignore Hellebore standing statue still, ready to commit a ruthless execution.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, it’s fine… speaking of arms, mother, I believe Scarlett will require your attention. Would you please leave the screeching one alone for a moment? This is more important,” Jaune implored his mother, the Huntress slowly removing her weapon from her prey’s mouth as she moved to her husband's side.

With the blades removed, Orchid Praetor’s mother collapsed to the floor, a sobbing mess, as her legs no longer held the strength to aid her. Despite her pitiful display, not a single person moved to assist her as all focus remained on the volatile huntsmen in their midst.

“Scarlett… are you all right?” Hella asked, her voice audible over the sound of her weapons shifting, their long blades being pulled in. Then, with her weapons no longer an obstruction, Hella brought her hand up, cupping her daughter’s cheek as she looked her child over for any injuries.

“I’m fine,” She glanced at Jaune, who gave his older sister a wave and a smile, indicating his excellent health. “I guess Jaune is two… aside from being under arrest, but that’s not important now… Mum, Dad, it’s Saphron….” Scarlett tried to explain but stopped as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She beat them back, determined to press on, “…she was attacked.”

Jaune was impressed by the survival instincts of everyone in the room as, at that very moment, everyone save Hella, and those already sitting took a step away from Cloud. Jaune watched his father’s eyes widen, his pallor shift, his hand tighten about the grip of Hrunting, and his lips peel back to expose his teeth.

“WHAT!” Cloud roared, his enraged expression joined by many looks of fear as Hrunting hissed loudly, the seam of the blade once more visible and the air about the weapon shaking violently.

Jaune noticing his sisters now far more timid posture chose to explain things further to his father, “it’s true, it occurred here on school grounds, by students… six of them to be exact… I may have… reacted to this news, hence the cuffs,” Jaune explained calmly as he gestured to the two pairs on his person.

“Are they still alive?” Hella asked, moving to kneel by her son, her eyes examining the blood on his features critically. Jaune was about to answer but was stalled as the Sheriff moved next to Hella with a conflicted look.

“Jaune is currently under arrest for the assault and battery of no less than seven children, all of whom were transported to the hospital and are in stable condition with none of their injuries determined to be life-threatening….” Sheriff Jett stated, trying to ignore the predatory look in Hella’s eyes.

“Hmm… I am honestly surprised….” Hella hummed, sparing a glance over her shoulder where Scarlett was having a hurried whispered conversation with Cloud, showing the man a Scroll, the whole while Hrunting continued to vibrate ominously.

“Hella… I need you,” Cloud spoke, voice a low rumble of pure fury. The rage rolling off him was so frightening that even Scarlett took a few steps back. In his hands was a Scroll, his eyes were glued to the screen, and his nostrils flared with every breath.

He looked like a titan ready to unleash an ungodly rage.

Hella approached her husband with care. Her movements exaggerated as she saddled over to his side and pressed her body against him. When she took the Scroll from him, it was with great care; when she saw what was on the screen, it was with stony features. Her eyes remained cold when she swiped, but Jaune saw her lips twitch, her muscles tense, and her fury build.

When she had seen enough, she handed the Scroll back to Scarlett, the eldest Arc child taking it with a gulp as she saw her mother's cool, calm features. Then, when her hands were free, she turned back to the couch Jaune was sitting upon and spoke plainly.

“Sheriff… if you do not remove those cuffs from my child, I will be taking a trip to the hospital… and there will be no survivors,” Hella gave her ultimatum, the sound of Bloom and Blight loosing their blades sounding like a gunshot.

The room was silent.

No one moved.

Jaune could hear the Sheriff’s heart pound in his chest, its beat steady despite the killer Huntress staring him down like prey. Dr Kaiser was much the same. Only he shifted ever so slightly to be able to intercept any attack that moved towards the old Sheriff.

“Hella, he broke the law,” the Sheriff spoke clearly as he looked the Huntress dead in the eye.

“… If the children he assaulted were the ones responsible for the crime committed against my daughter, you should be thanking him that they still draw breath,” Hella hissed, her words caustic as many of the parents flinched.

“I was unaware of any crime committed against your daughter Hella, but that doesn’t change things. Jaune broke the law instead of reporting the crime,” Sheriff Jett argued even as he heard the muffled sound of thunder, Cloud’s emotions spiking.

“Sheriff! That’s because they threatened to release… images. We had to handle this discreetly, which is why-“

“Sheriff, there were extenuating circumstances. Now free my child, or I will,” Hella whispered, her voice carrying easily to the old lawman’s ear as she cut off Scarlett, who went silent at her mother’s venomous tone.

“Hella, he attacked people. He messed them up something fierce. You know why I have to be strict with people like him when it-“

“Like him?” Hella interjected, taking a step forward, her expression becoming one of outright fury as she moved in like a viper, her whole body tense to strike. “Be very careful what words you utter next, I have just run out of patience, Sheriff, and it is only the love my husband holds for you that stops me,” Hella warned, her weapon springing to life as the Shuriken launchers spun up once more.

“Speak quick, Jett,” Cloud growled, dragging Hrunting closer to his side, a brutal gouge left in the wake of the weapon.

“I just meant as an Aura wielder, you know the law, double cuffs and treated as armed and dangerous, nothing more! It’s protocol!” Sheriff Jett explained rapidly, raising both hands, keeping them very much away from his holstered sidearm.

Like a flash, the room calmed considerably as Hella relaxed, and Cloud spoke with a sigh, “Jett… buddy… you fucking idiot, he doesn’t have Aura.”

“W-what… but he took out seven kids by himself?” the Sheriff muttered while thinking ‘and he is your kid’.

“None of their kids have Aura actually… kind of rare for Huntsmen brats, but then when do these lot do anything normally?” Dr Kaiser interjected with his own two Lien while shrugging, relaxing back into his seat as the room settled.

The Sheriff moved swiftly, not desiring to break the peace, removing the cuffs on Jaune’s ankles and wrists, allowing the boy to stretch as he rose to his feet, now standing just a bit taller than the old officer.

“Much obliged, Sheriff,” Jaune spoke, paying the old lawman a nod as he moved over to his sister.

“So, did we do it?” He asked, his tone serious as he awaited confirmation of a mission accomplished.

He would be sorely disappointed.

With her head turned to hide her shame, Scarlett answered, “no, one of those pieces of shit sent a copy of them to someone,” Scarlett spat, her hate shown in the eyes as unshed tears as frustration ate at the eldest Arc sister.

Jaune seeing this, tried to comfort her, speaking gently, “it’s all right. We planned for such an event. Do you know to whom the number belongs?” Jaune queried as he observed both his parents tense.

“No, Matt was able to identify it as a new number, likely intended to be used to receive the images before being discarded… he called it a burner, and he also said it would be almost impossible to track….” Scarlett admitted with a pained hiss as she tried to blink away the tears.

“Hmm… who sent the images, sister?” Jaune asked, taking the device from her to look it over. Cloud also moved to see the screen, remaining relatively silent as he observed Jaune’s work.

“Pine, that fucker… his Scroll and the one he messaged all to are the last ones that need to be dealt with. The others have been wiped utterly, clouds, backups the lot. Also, to be doubly sure, Matt fried the lots of them….” Scarlett whispered, her gaze darting to the clustered parents with distrust.

“Do not pay them any mind,” Jaune spoke confidently. “With Mother and father here, we will have this sorted before the night's end,” he continued smiling before his eyes finally landed on the complicated expression of the Sheriff.

“Do not fret, Sheriff. Your services are needed too, just not for me, as I have committed by far the less severe crime this day,” Jaune spoke in a placating manner as he continued to focus on the device in his hands, his father pointing out he should check the contacts.

“What is that supposed to mean,” the Urolu man asked, moving to the front of the cluster of parents.

“… Just as I said, there is punishment in need of serving, but I am not the one who needs to suffer the law’s wrath just yet,” Jaune explained with a shrug, his fingers flicking through the Scroll as he moved out of the gallery and instead to the messages, his father nodding with his decision.

“But you still assaulted someone. That’s a hefty crime,” the Urolu man pointed out, this time with some vitriol.

“Yes, I did… and again, I apologise for your sons, undue collateral, but while my crime was violent, it could be argued that I am a minor of unsound mind driven to act by the perpetration of an even worse crime….” So Jaune claimed as he opened up the messaging app on Pine Kit’s phone, his inquisitive gaze hunting for any clue as to the seventh perpetrator.

“What is worse than a… wait, you mean to tell me that those kids you were after committed a-“

“An emotive crime, correct… you know what that means don’t you… Despite my crime’s violence, it is a simple assault, some of which was perpetrated in self-defence. However, an emotive crime far supersedes that,” Jaune argued, his gaze turning predatory as he glanced up from the scroll to the trembling form of Orchid Praetor’s mother.

“… They did this to your sister,” the Urolu man whispered, bringing the furious gaze of every Arc in the room down upon him.

“… Yes,” Jaune admitted with a nod, waiting on bated breath for the man’s following words.

“… My sons… you said they were collateral; they didn’t aid in the perpetration of this crime then,” the Urolu man spoke worriedly.

“No, they merely suffered from being poor judges of character; the only guilty males were Rust Esa and Pine Kit… and it seems I underestimated the magnitude of Pine Kit’s role,” Jaune uttered triumphantly as he showed the phone to his father who sniffed disdainfully before nodding at Hella and the Sheriff indicating that Jaune should show them as well.

Jaune immediately flipped the device, showing it off to the adults and pointing to the message he had found. “Sheriff, this message here indicates that there is a seventh party involved in the assault on my sister, the crime I wished to report to you several hours ago now,” Jaune explained, pointing to the chat that displayed Pine Kit in talks with a seventh individual who assured he would be able to turn off security around the locker room. In return, he wanted to see that ‘uppity Arc bitch get what she deserved’.

The Sheriff, either from reading the message or deducing it from the Arc’s attitude, realised that things were much more fucked than he could have ever expected. But he needed to know for sure, and so with more courage than any human without a magical bullet-stopping shield had any right to, he asked, “… this crime, is it-“

Jaune would not have it and cut his question off swiftly as he had no desire for such a topic to be discussed with certain parties present. “The pictures of said crime are present on this device, which belongs to one Pine Kit, one of the perpetrators… you will have to take up seeing them with Scarlett as she is the only one who has been granted dispensation from Saphron to judge who is allowed to see them.”

“… Come over here, Sheriff,” Scarlett instructed, leading the man over to a corner of the room so that he could see the unsightly images with no risk of others peeking.

“… Son, are you all right?” Cloud asked subtly.

“I am fine, father. I will be better when we have dealt with this matter and seen the last of the images purged… for what little it will do to aid Saphron,” Jaune grunted, eyes examining the guilty parents with a cunning intrigue.

Something was eating at him.

Jaune was no stranger to mysteries, and one was glaring him in the face.

He just didn’t know what it was that he didn’t know.

“The other children… you attacked them to retrieve the devices,” Cloud spoke more as acknowledgment than a question.

“Yes… Saphron refused to seek any aid, be it medical, criminal or… or you two,” Jaune acknowledged somewhat guiltily.

“… She was scared. People do dumb things when they are scared,” Hella pointed out, her words feeling twisted as she reflected on her second eldest’s attitude.

“Yes, hence why Scarlett and I, seeing no other option, decided to act swiftly to handle the images….” Jaune explained, his hands clenched as a stray thought flittered about his head. “I do not want to think of how Saphron would handle their spreading,” Jaune admitted grimly.

“The devices?” Hella asked, leaning against her son gently in an approximation of a hug. Both were doing their best to ignore the Sheriff cursing in the corner as he no doubt beheld the crime perpetrated against Saphron.

“Dealt with, by a third party, trusted and vetted by Scarlett, the images are destroyed and supposedly the evidence secured on a sealed terminal… That phone and the seventh conspirator’s device are the last ones capable of transmitting the images,” Jaune summarised.

“Any clues as to who the seventh conspirator is,” the Sheriff spoke up, his tone gruff, his shoulders tense, and his face grimaced. The tired, stressed visage of before gone, the images he had seen gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

“… Yes, the individual in question would be someone who had access to the school’s security system, could move through the school with little to no attention being garnered and is likely someone with a personal connection to Pine….” Jaune listed off, his hand twitching as he ignored the desire to palm a weapon.

The Sheriff heard all this and turned about to face the principal, who looked like she wanted to quit her job. “Sounds an awful lot like a staff member Mrs Litt…” the Sheriff accused, his tone chilly.

“…yes… yes it does,” The principal agreed in surrender.

“Any ideas?” The Sheriff pushed, leaning across her desk.

“Do I know which one of the people under my employ is a disgusting criminal capable of committing an emotive crime? NO! I would say the same about my students, but evidently, I would be wrong!” The principal exploded, slamming her hands down on her desk.

“Evidently… Have any staff gone home yet today,” the Sheriff asked in follow-up, glossing over the principal’s eruption.

“No… at first I thought Mr Heard had, but you saw him earlier,” Mrs Litt explained.

“So there is a chance our suspect is here…” Jett mumbled, moving to the waiting room door.

Hearing this, Hella raced, not to the door but to her daughter. “Scarlett, let me see that phone,” Hella ordered, Scarlett immediately handing her the device.

“Everyone… Shut up and listen,” Hella ordered, turning to Cloud and giving him a nod, a silent dialogue that ended with the mountain of a man moving with unnatural softness to the door.

Then Hella pressed ‘call’.

A breath.

Two.

Then a buzz.

The door was torn aside, splintered and ruined as Cloud tore it from the hinges; he left Hrunting impaled to free one of his hands and filled the other with his Mauler. He was across the room in two strides, a man dressed in a white security shirt hoisted aloft by his head, a hand engulfing the man’s startled face.

“You sneaky fucking degenerate piece of shit! You think you can torment my fucking child! I could squeeze, and your brains would paint the walls!” Cloud roared, his Aura visible as his gun pressed firmly against the terrified man’s crotch.

Hella was by her husband’s side as if by magic, her hand grasping the device in his pocket and removing it. It was a shoddy-looking thing compared to most Scrolls, but it made sense as it was meant to be disposable; Hella had the thing open in a second as it didn’t have a passcode. However, when she flicked through it, she was confused. Having never used one of the devices, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t find the Gallery.

“Scar-“

Hella needn’t have called as the eldest Arc was there in a hurry and, with instructions given to her by Matt, immediately she went to the messages looking for a file. She almost smiled when she saw it, but then she saw what was below it.

‘File Sent’

“He sent it again….” Scarlett whispered, her hopes dashed.

“Right. Where did you send it!” Cloud snarled, Hella unsheathing her blades as she made ready to flay this vile man thing alive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” the man shrieked fretfully, his voice somewhat muffled by Cloud’s hand as he went very still.

“Arcs!” the Sheriff bellowed, not quite ready to let the Huntsman get away with threatening a suspect.

“Not now, Jett this fucker is gonna-“

“It’s not him,” Jaune stated, walking into the room, annoyed.

“What?” Cloud grunted, confused, his grip not relaxing for a moment.

“It’s not him… too easy, too simple, this guy would know to turn his Scroll off….” Jaune muttered, coming up to the pinned security guard.

“Jaune people make mistakes,” Hella argued.

“Yes… they do… “Jaune agreed, reaching for the burner Scroll, clutching the device in his finger and looking at it as if it could tell him everything.

“That’s not a contact number for a Scroll,” Jaune pointed out, seeing the files were sent to a series of numbers too numerous for a Scroll ID.

“No, its… he sent them to another device….” Scarlett explained with horror.

“What’s that mean?” Jaune asked.

“The images could be in anything now, a computer, a car, a bloody coffee maker!” Scarlett ranted.

“The message was sent three minutes ago…” Jaune pointed out.

“Then he is still here…” Cloud growled, releasing the security guard and turning to all the staff, parents, and officers gathered in the room. Hella kept her murderous gaze on the now traumatised security guard Bloom and Blight eye level with the shaking man.

“Arc, calm down! You can’t go on a Brothers damned witch hunt!” The Sheriff barked.

“Watch me,” Cloud snarled back.

“Watch us!” Hella echoed.

Again, the Sheriff and the Arc adults were in a standoff, a few of the officers even going so far as to reach towards their weapons.

*Sniff, sniff*

The tension that had been indeed on the rise was all but rent asunder by the most peculiar noise.

*Sniff, sniff*

All eyes turned to Jaune, even his parents, as they beheld their only son inhaling deeply with the Scroll under his nose. Yet, with his eyes closed, the boy was unperturbed by all the stares, focusing solely on the device in his grip and the aromas that clung to it.

“Jaune?” Scarlett whispered, indeed perturbed by her brother’s actions.

“…” Jaune didn’t say anything, focused on his drive to locate the last of his prey, his nose seeking a hint of the swine’s scent, his olfactory sense picking up the faintest iota of odour. When Jaune opened his eyes, he saw every eye on him, but he paid them no mind, instead passing the device back to his sister as he approached the gathered throng. He had detected a few scents on the device. One was his sister, the other his mother, the now likely traumatised security guard and himself.

But there was one last scent, one more prevalent, one older than all the others.

*Sniff, sniff*

Jaune’s head was raised, his nose in the air as he scented the room, looking like either a lunatic or a beast. But despite what he looked like, there was now a new tension in the room, one of suspense, curiosity… and fear.

Slowly Jaune began to follow the scent, his every move captivating the audience before him as he shifted and prowled. A beast on the hunt.

Jaune took a step forward.

Half the room relaxed as they were now excluded from his focus.

He took another.

A quarter eased tense shoulder’s only to begin to look to their right at those still before the strange child.

Another ste-

A man ran across the room, darting for the door.

Their hands clutched the handle twisting it desperately.

*BANG*

A cacophonous noise like an explosion in the tiny room shocked everyone as it rang in their ears. Then, with the noise passing, people began to react instead to what they could see.

And what a sight it was.

The man who had fled desperately to escape was on the floor. Elevated above his body was his thigh, just his thigh. The ruined stump was spurting visceral streaks of red as he stared, shocked at the ruined appendage; his knee having exploded along with a portion of the door he had sought to escape through.

The rest of his leg was but a meter away in its own slowly growing pool of blood.

Then the screaming began.

From the ear-splitting screams of pain of the newly made amputee to the horrified panic shouts of the parents, teachers, and even a few officers, the room was manic. There was scrambling, some to be as far from the bloody scene as possible, others to trash cans or corners where they emptied their guts. And then there was the Sheriff and his lot directing the panic and trying to press through the fleeing mass.

But amongst the movement, it was Cloud who stood out the most. Like a mountain moving through a sea of bodies, he approached the writhing man with a steady unabated pace. In his hand, his Mauler, the barrel smoking, held aloft and ready. The agonised hollers were soon strangled off as Cloud’s heavy boot compressed the wounded man’s diaphragm.

Cloud continued to add pressure, bit by bit, more and more until the anguished cries died in choking breaths and spluttering coughs.

“Found you,” Cloud mused, lowering his weapon so it was pointed at the man’s other leg.

Any action Cloud intended to commit was halted as the sheriff appeared, throwing himself bodily through the crowd to stand just outside the Huntsman’s reach. “Cloud,” Sheriff Jett intoned softly while watching the Hunter or, more accurately, his weapon warily.

“Jett, what would you do?” Cloud snapped, the Sheriff flinching beneath the judging gaze of the mighty killer before him.

“…I can’t answer that, Cloud… but you and Hella are Huntsmen. You have a responsibility, so I am asking you, please, stand down,” Jett negotiated. “You did it. You caught the bad guy, Jaune is safe, Saphron is avenged now… let me give her justice.”

Any response was stolen as Jaune marched towards the downed and writhing man, his hands latching about the mangled stum with a constricting grip that had the injured man give a choked and gargled cry of agony. Jaune did not relent, his grip only tightening as the Sheriff and others cried out, even going so far as to move forward.

A poor plan that had Cloud freezing them with a stare.

Dr Kaiser restored some semblance of peace as he realised what the Arc boy was doing.

“Wait! He is applying pressure to stem the bleed,” the doctor observed, confused by Jaune’s actions.

That confusion only lasted until Jaune spoke, and then everything became clear. Then, in a cold and detached manner, Jaune addressed the man whose blood he was presently kneeling in. “Hello again, Mr Heard. Did you know that the average adult human has approximately five litres of blood within their body?”

Heard could not respond. The boot crushing his chest cavity saw to that.

Looking around for a moment, Jaune gave a non-committal hum, “I suspect that you have already seen a large portion of that vacate your person, but that just makes your next actions that much more vital for your survival.”

Jaune pivoted to look at Dr Kaiser, his expression devoid of emotion, like a mask, had been pulled across his features as he seemed utterly apathetic towards the present situation. “Dr Kaiser, if I was to release this man’s leg, how long would you give him until he completely bled out?”

Dr Kaiser seemed to blanch a little at the question, having already realised what Jaune intended to do, “… not long,” the semi-retired hunter answered, already holding his medical bag in his grasp.

Jaune nodded at this response before turning his gaze to his father, “remove your boot and change your target to his hand… if he resists, remove some fingers,” Jaune directed, elevating Mr Heard’s leg atop his thigh.

Cloud moved to do as he was asked, his boot coming down heavily atop Mr Heard’s wrist. Mr Heard, now able to breathe, could be heard sobbing as half-formed pleading fell from his trembling lips. Jaune was deaf to such things and let his grip constrict even further, silencing the man as he screamed in his throat.

“Mr Heard… Mr Heard, I need you to listen, or you will die….” Jaune spoke calmly, his words a statement of fact rather than a threat.

At the sound of movement behind him, Jaune quickly shouted, “mother, stop them!”

Like a wraith, Hella was at her son’s back. Bloom and Blight raised and ready to unleash a hail of spinning projectiles at whomever it was that had moved towards Jaune. “Hella,” the Sheriff’s voice spoke up, “don’t let Jaune make things worse for himself.”

Hella’s voice was cordial as she replied, “sorry, Sheriff, but whatever you may think, Jaune is doing this for his family,” Bloom’s Petals began to buzz as they spun faster in their chambers. “I will not let you jeopardise the well-being of my family.”

“Thank you, mother,” Jaune whispered as he returned his attention to the bloodied Mr Heard, a quick twist of the man’s leg giving Jaune his complete, agonised attention. “Now, Mr Heard, I am only going to ask you a few short questions; the quicker you answer them, the greater the chance the good doctor can save you, delay at your own peril and lie only if you wish to feel the hell that will be me reaching inside your fetid barely living corpse to remove with great enthusiasm your femur.”

Whether his words had an effect was unknown to Jaune as he did not take a chance to estimate Mr Heard’s responsiveness as he knew he was on the clock. This also left him duly unaware of how every other parent, teacher and officer looked at him in a disturbed manner.

“Now, Mr Heard, did you turn off the camera’s to facilitate the attack on my Sister Saphron Arc?” Jaune asked, his voice still devoid of inflection or emotion.

“Y-yes!” Mr Heard spluttered his grounded form writhing in pain.

“What is your relation to Pine Kit?”

“N-nephew, he’s my nephew!” Heard winced, his nails scraping through the puddle of his blood.

“And you knew what he had planned?”

“N- Agh!” Heard’s response devolved into a scream as Jaune drove his thumb into the man’s thigh, Heard bucking as the fresh wave of searing torture flared to life in his stump.

“The truth Mr Heard, I have read your messages….” Jaune instructed, his voice raised to be heard over Heard’s pained wails.

“Yes! Yes! I did. I knew what he would do to the bitch, you fucking monster!” Mr Heard screamed, his voice cracking as he shrieked like the wounded animal he was.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Jaune nodded, pulling his thumb from the man’s leg as a stream of blood leaked free. “Now this is the last question Mr Heard,” Jaune explained, “where are the images you sent from your burner phone?”

“N-no, you’ll kill me!” Heard denied his gaze was dancing between Jaune and the Mauler, hanging like a guillotine over his hand.

“That sounds like resistance?” Cloud pointed out, pushing down with more force on Heard’s wrist.

“Or perhaps a lie of omission,” Jaune declared.

Mr Heard released a strangled gasp as he felt Jaune release his leg, fresh waves of red eagerly pouring out of the maimed limb. But Jaune wasn’t done. True to his word, he moved his hand until his clawed fingers rested upon the exposed meat of the stump, ready to plunge in.

Any thoughts of resistance evaporated as Mr Heard felt a fingertip graze across raw and exposed nerves, “at home! I sent them to my house! They are on my computer! The password is celery with a capital ‘y’. They are in a locked folder. The password is kibble with a ‘1’ instead of an ‘I’. I swear, please, I swear,” the man begged, tugging on his pinned wrist, desperate to flee.

“… Doctor,” Jaune announced, taking his hands away from Heard’s limb, letting the mangled appendage flop to the floor, painfully eliciting a fresh scream for the man. “He is all yours,” Jaune sniffed, allowing Dr Kaiser to move to the bloodied man’s side, where he began to work on the man’s leg, a tourniquet already in his hands.

“Father, mother, I am afraid I will have to leave the rest to you,” Jaune explained, walking over to the Sheriff.

“What are you doing, Jaune?” Scarlett questioned, moving forward hurriedly as she watched her brother walk towards Sheriff Jett calmly.

“Why, turning myself in, of course,” Jaune placated his sister.

“What! Why!” Scarlett hollered her voice louder than the pained groans of a barely conscious Heard.

“Because I never intended to act criminally and am fully ready to be judged by a court of my peers,” Jaune spoke, smiling earnestly, his eyes seeming to glow with warmth for his elder sister.

Bringing his eyes to meet a very cautious Sheriff, Jaune offered him his hands amicably, “after all, I am not the one who committed an emotive crime, now am I?”

The Sheriff, with a full view of a room filled with teachers, parents, officers and most frighteningly, Arcs, realised just how complicated things would become in the following weeks. Yet, as he locked the cuffs about Jaune’s wrists and saw the glares on Hellebore and Cloud’s faces, he tried not to let his resolve shake.

When he put Jaune in the back of his car, the boy not resisting in the slightest, Jett felt somehow that there was more going on than he initially realised. And when he locked Jaune in the holding cell down at the station, the boy only asking for a change of pants, he concluded that somehow, he had been played.

He just didn’t know how.

YVYVYVYVY

Citron Mist did not know why she was running.

She did not know why her heart was racing painfully in her chest or why she felt a clammy cold sweat cling to her flesh but what she did know was that she couldn’t stop. Shadowy halls, indistinct looming structures, an empty street beneath an ominous red glow.

Why

What

Whe-

Her street… this was her street.

This sudden epiphany brought her to a slow staggering halt, her eyes widening as she looked about her street.

She was near her house and could see her front yard up to her porch steps.

And she could see the stranger sitting upon them.

Fear

Run

Flee

“It is a rather lovely night… don’t you agree?” The stranger spoke. His voice was low but easily heard, earnest but disconcerting, and peaceful, yet filled Citron with a primal alarm.

“W-w-who are-“

“The moon… it hangs rather low… how peculiar, as I do not think this shall be a long hunt,” the stranger spoke again, still sitting comfortably upon her house’s front steps.

“Th-… the moon?” Citron mumbled, turning her head to behold something entirely alien.

A full moon, whole and unfractured.

Its ominous scarlet glow cast a red tint across the dark street, its size and grandeur unnatural, and its presence imminent and awe-inspiring. It hung in the sky as if in audience to the world, an onlooker observing her minuscule self and making her feel so pitifully insignificant.

“Wha… what is this?” Citron breathed, hypnotised at the alien visage before her.

“Mmm, a sight to be sure… but I much favour the moon of Remnant than the abomination before you….” the stranger hissed, his voice dragging her attention away from the celestial body.

“I-“

“You are dreaming, wretched miss, this, all this is nothing more than a moonlit dream, a bloodied facsimile of the reality you know,” the stranger elucidated, rising from his seat.

He was tall… he was very tall.

He was cloaked in thick wraps, the muddy leather of his attire blending in with itself, making him appear shrouded in moving cloth. His skin was pale, like porcelain, unnatural and luminous, but his eyes drew her attention the most. Yellow brilliant bulbs with bright red veins splitting the uniformity of their colour that peered into her like needles.

“I’m dreaming?” Citron huffed, taking a step back, her legs suddenly feeling heavy as if laden with iron.

“Oh yes… you fell asleep in your bed and found yourself drifting… now you are here, beneath this abominable moonlit sky… with me,” the stranger intoned, walking down her front path towards the gate.

Citron did not like that.

“Stay back!” Citron shouted, her voice a quiver with fear.

“Come now, no reason to get yourself worked up, ‘tis all but a dream after all,” the stranger placated, opening her front gate, the mechanism giving a light squeak in the silent night.

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer!” Citron warned, tears in her eyes as she tried to move further back, but her legs, frozen and heavy, failed her.

She fell, body rigid and weak.

She could do nothing but watch on the ground as the figure moved forward, his steps thunderous in the silence, the scuffing of his shoes like sandpaper in her ears. When he reached her, he loomed over her, the moon now somehow at his back, drowning the figure in blood-red light. She could see pale hair hanging from his head, the ashy strands dancing along his luminous skin.

His eyes, unblinking, locked her in her body, unable to flee before their sight.

“Oh, how pitiful, you poor, lowly, anguished thing, you see me and think of all that is to come… with no thought spared to that which has already been. This is the foible of those who yet do not know the touch of truth, the fault being not their own but judged for it all the same.” The stranger attested his figure shrouded in the light.

“Do not fret, for I will guide you through this dreaded nightmare, Citron Mist. I will bestow upon you all the wisdom I have to give, all the Insight I might yet share with you… cast not thought towards trifling matters cruel follower, naught but abstract they are in this most fetid sea of delirium.” The stranger sang as his long, too long, arm moved from the confines of his attire so that his hand could fall abreast of her cheek.

“Tonight, yes, tonight we shall endure a lesson as teacher and student. You will be my loathsome disciple,” the figure continued, his cold fingers trailing across the shape of her skull until his thumb was caressing the curve of her zygoma.

Citron could not breathe.

Could not make a sound.

Could do naught but behold the stranger and the unearthly hate in his bloodshot orbs.

“Here I bequeath to you vermin a lesson that needs to be taught. I hope for the sake of something as vile as you that it becomes infused with your person swiftly… but if not, then we shall need to gain a familiarity that I can only imagine will cause no small amount of flagellation.”

His finger now hovered above one of her eyes, her gaze trapped between his baleful orbs and the digit poised to lance into her fear-addled head.

“But do not fret… Whatever happens… you may think it all a mere. Bad. Dream.”

YVYVYVYVY

Citron mist awoke screaming in her bed, flinging herself to the floor as she clawed at her face and flailed about in a crazed panic. Her parents witnessed her maddened sobs and sickly gags as she screamed into the floor and tugged at her hair.

They were frozen as they watched her ramble a sullen mixture of madness, apologies, half-baked prayers and a strange repeating phrase.

…

‘Undone by the blood.’

YVYVYVYVY

Reach was in a hell of a state following the events at the school. The news, with an almost imbecilic degree of naivety, reported on the events with only a partial idea of what occurred and without their usual oversight creating a media storm. This coverage resulted in the entire town being suffused with rumour and hearsay before the Hunter’s Guild could even so much as comment.

As such, paranoia was rife.

And with paranoia came Grimm, a lot of Grimm.

The local Huntsman became inundated to such a degree that there was even a call for outside assistance, with Vale responding with two relief teams, one of which was just a team from Beacon. Still, even students were received gratefully.

When two officers from the Sheriff’s department showed up at the Guild headquarters and asked if they could question Hellebore and Jaune Arc, they were not just turned away but threatened with outright violence should they dare come back during this time of crisis.

When Jett found out two of his officers had been stupid enough to bother the Hunters in the middle of a heightened Grimm presence, he stuck the offending officers on patrol.

At the outskirts.

Both officers apologised profusely by the end of their first shift, and all it took was being nearly eaten by a Griffon.

Almost as bad as the Grimm was the continued efforts of the media to get to the bottom of what had happened at the school. Jett had never been so tempted to start shooting, so what if a few reporters wound up dead, wasn’t relieving his persistent headache worth it?

It only worsened when a few of the parents of the kids tried to get their voices heard by the media as if they hadn’t already done enough. With the parents of the six guilty children being the worse, Jett almost wished they succeeded, if only so he could arrest them for creating public discourse during a time of upheaval.

But he wouldn’t let them.

In only five days, they had already had two of their Hunters taken off active duty due to serious injury, a fact that was kept secret from the public. When Jett was informed of such dire news, he created a police barricade around the hospital and put a 24-hour watch on all the parents. He also immediately called the Valean Special Investigation Corps, the group tasked with handling investigations pertaining to emotive crimes, terrorism and crimes committed by Aura wielders.

And all of this was on top of him personally investigating the assault of Saphron Arc.

Jett had seen many awful things in his career, but somehow this affected him with a severity he was unaccustomed to.

He knew Saph personally, not because he was close to the girl but rather as the energetic daughter of a close colleague. And in truth, it ate at him; with him and the Hunter Commander having worked together on several different occasions, he began to view the younger Huntsman as a friend somewhere along the line. And upon seeing the pictures that the group of bastards had taken, he quickly realised just why Jaune had acted the way he had.

Thoughts of his deceased family haunted him as he put his wife and unborn daughter in Saphron’s place.

He knew what he would have done in Jaune’s position.

He would have filled seven unmarked graves.

But that was beside the point, as with her testimonial and the evidence collected by Jaune and Scarlett, the six guilty students were all but assured of winding up with a guilty verdict. All that was required was for VSIC to finalise its findings, and then it could move to the Valean High Court.

The seventh conspirator in Saphron’s assault was in an even worse position. When they investigated his abode and, more importantly, his computer, they found much more than just the images of the attack.

Khaki Heard was a sick piece of subhuman scum, and as both the Sheriff and a decent human being, Jett awaited his trial eagerly.

It would not end well for him.

And all of this was only possible thanks to the criminal actions committed by two family members of the victim. Of course, that had also netted them their own fair share of trouble, but in truth, Jett found that he was agreeing with their course of action more and more, especially now with the whole picture.

And wasn’t that the cusp of the matter?

Jaune Arc… the only son of the Arc family and the one enduring the most blowback for the actions perpetrated against his sister’s attackers.

The boy had been nothing but helpful.

He was cordial, polite and a model prisoner. He stayed in his cell, only requesting food and drink. However, with the increase in Grimm numbers, protocol insisted on all detainments being done with greater oversight to prevent further negative emotions from arising. Hence Jaune spent many days in the cell at the station without complaint, whereas those responsible for harming Saphron were cuffed to their hospital beds.

The strangest twist was when Artichoke Hayes and Citron Mist showed up at the hospital, requiring treatment for many self-inflicted injuries. Jett sorely suspected that the two were gearing up for an insanity plea, not that it would matter with the commitment of an emotive crime, but it was a cowardly move all the same.

Another comparison was how they addressed their actions, with the seven rotten bastards all dancing around or outright denying culpability. Jaune admitted fully to every action he committed, pointing out on the camera his exact actions; the only part that Sheriff Jett doubted him on was his retelling of Scarlett’s assault of one Orchid Praetor. Jaune was adamant that it was self-defence showing how the girl charged at his sister, and she reacted in fear for her well-being.

Jett had doubts… but didn’t need two Arcs in his holding cells.

Speaking of the rest of the Arcs, it was an understatement to say they had been unhappy with Jaune’s present situation. Scarlett had been by nearly every day, so had a few of her co-workers and hadn’t that been a surprise to discover that Scarlett worked for none other than Mr Brown?

The cheeky shorts-wearing bastard had brought Jaune a bouquet of roses; damn, things were stinking up the whole precinct.

His younger siblings had been brought by the fantastic Ms Tami and had burst into tears calling Jett a big mean bully.

It shouldn’t have hurt.

It did.

The worst was when Saphron came to visit.

Sheriff Jett Throw had never felt like a lower form of scum.

Seeing her battered to high hell and sobbing for Jaune’s forgiveness… he felt like someone had rammed him in the gut with a rusty pipe. Jaune, for his part, had assured her he was right where he wanted to be, that he was happy the pictures were taken care of and that his sister was safe.

Jett had personally checked on the secure terminal said images were stored on after that. If VSIC didn’t need them, he would have broken the thing over his knee and burned the remains. Instead, he reassured himself with its presence in the secure safe within the locker, a concession he had granted after the Arcs had promised to rain down hellfire if so much as one unnecessary person saw those images.

Jaune had few other visitors during his stay; his parents, for example, dropped by after their shifts when they could. Sometimes, they came by so fast that they still had Grimm essence evaporating on their forms.

Another interesting visitor had been Nickel Kaiser, but his visit had been a quick stop simply so that he could ensure Jaune wasn’t suffering any flare-up injuries. He also asked if Jaune was experiencing any weird nightmares, but Jaune stated he was perfectly fine on both accounts.

In conclusion, it had been an exhausting week that had run the Sheriff’s department ragged.

Hopefully, the next week would be far more pleasant.

YVYVYVYVY

Jett put back another cup of coffee, the black sludge going down quickly as his body craved the caffeine with a draconic want.

A whole month of chaos.

A whole month of sleepless nights and stressful days.

Jett wanted to pass out… or retire.

A good indicator of how much things had deteriorated was that the trials had to be performed via distance call because Reach was not secure enough to facilitate unnecessary transport. And hadn’t that just done wonders for the state of the public, heaven forbid people calm down and act rationally.

Jett needed more coffee.

But if only the transport lockdown were his biggest concern, then he might still have a somewhat regular sleep schedule. But that was the last thing in a long line of bullshit that seemed hellbent on driving him into early retirement.

What made said transport ‘situation’ worse was that Reach had a vast array of stock bunkers, and they could hold out for a damn year at their current population before needing to concern themselves with worries of starvation. And that was not even taking into consideration people’s personal stocks.

Like the private bunker, he knew Mr Brown had hidden… somewhere.

But no, the most complicated issue was not food and essential supplies. Instead, it was entirely centred once again on the Arcs, specifically Jaune Arc, the boy who had been peacefully locked in his cell for the entirety of the month. Jett had made sure of it, and their cameras confirmed it, but did that stem the chaos surrounding the boy?

Not even a little bit.

Instead, about halfway through the second week, Jett had been in talks with VSIC when one of his officers had burst into his office talking about a small riot in the front entrance. Jett, in no mood for such discourse with the current Grimm situation, had rushed to the area in question, his firearm drawn and two very intimidating VSIC officers ready to quell any insurrection.

Lo and behold, it was none other than the God’s forsaken parents of the six sexually assaulting pieces of shit under hospital arrest. They were there, armed, demanding he turn over Jaune Arc.

He was about to arrest them all when, as if summoned by whatever jinx was placed on himself, no less than three Hunters appeared, one of whom was good old Orr Flamberge. Who was rather fond of Jaune, stating she liked the kid’s spunk. Who was more than happy to hospitalise four imbeciles demanding his head and disperse the riot as violently as possible.

Jett had wanted to shoot her. He nearly had. She even dared him…. Missed opportunity.

With the parents contained, he swiftly discovered that they were demanding he hand the boy over because he was supposedly using his Aura powers to give their kids unending night terrors. A claim they made in front of the VSIC agents, whom he had already assured that Jaune Arc did not have his Aura unlocked.

As such, he was forced to call down one Dr Nickel Kaiser to perform an Aura test with them present to observe and ensure no tampering.

May as well have just called him a fucking liar.

The one upside of that event had been watching the two unflappable agents cower before the mountain of bloodthirsty rage that was an overworked Cloud Arc. Dr Kaiser had been in the middle of stitching his gut closed when the call came in.

Somehow the Sheriff’s department was still in one piece, and more importantly, the coffee maker still worked.

Jett swore that if it broke, he would execute those seven shit stains just to end this fucking circus.

But Dr Kaiser proved (again) that Jaune Arc did, in fact, not have his Aura unlocked, meaning that Dr Kaiser (and the colossal murderous Huntsman that followed him) came down for no reason. A point that the Hunter’s Guild reamed him for asking if he would like to ease their burden by putting some of his officers on the front lines.

He very much did not want to do that.

After the attempted lynching of Jaune, he moved the boy to a more secure cell, the Arc kid being perfectly agreeable and not causing the slightest fuss about it. Was it necessary at the time? No. Did he do it anyway because he was terrified of shit somehow worsening? Absolutely.

But after the second Aura test, VSIC turned in their findings, and thus the wheels of bureaucracy began to move, thus allowing for statements to be made and the media to end the rampant paranoia. But, of course, if it did anything for the Grimm numbers was another matter entirely.

Jett’s headaches following this small victory were less due to a massive crisis requiring his direct involvement and more because his department became a legal warzone. The parents of the guilty were pressing for Jaune to be charged as soon as possible. They wanted him prosecuted before their brats were turned over to face their trials for committing an emotive crime.

They had even presented a united front.

A front that was summarily decimated by no less than three elite teams of lawyers ready to tear them each a new asshole… metaphorically (and maybe literally).

The first team was three lawyers that Jett recognised quickly. They had billboards in all major cities and towns of Vale. Hoss and Ross, the Aura Lawyers, ‘ready to take on any case no matter the obstacles’, had shown up armed to the teeth with briefcases in hand and had immediately jumped on the chance to defend Jaune.

The boy’s maternal Grandmother had hired them.

She paid them in gold and gems.

Suddenly he could not shake the idea that Hellebore was raised by a dragon, and the fact that such an idea made far too much sense frightened the ever-loving shit out of him.

The second team was local. It was the entire legal department of the Hunter’s Guild, a whole pack of lawyers who were on the warpath to save the son of their commander.

The fact that two of them also had Aura and carried weapons did nothing for Jett’s present state of mind. But they certainly got along well enough with Hoss and Ross, going so far as to discuss the values of being able to break the opposition over their knees at any point. A frightening idea considering that there were four of them now.

And then it got worse.

Will and Carlton, the personal lawyers of Mr Brown, had marched into the department like they owned it; they both were working pro bono.

They never worked pro bono.

With the three parties combined, it had all gone downhill for the six guilty teens and the twisted fuck that was Khaki Heard.

Not only would their trial take precedence as it was the more severe crime, but everyone knew that the result would directly influence Jaune’s case no matter what the court said about avoiding bias.

When it was obvious that their attempts to attack Jaune were for naught, they instead changed their strategy to focus on the defence of their children.

It was too little too late.

Between not one but three top-of-the-line legal teams, they were practically attacked from all sides, not to mention that their own brats undercut them. Consumed by guilt or sleep deprivation, every single one wanted to plead guilty, desperate to rid themselves of the mysterious stranger that haunted their dreams.

Supposedly it got so bad that the Hunter’s Guild even investigated whether a particular type of Grimm was involved, but no evidence was found to support such a theory.

In the end, it didn’t matter.

All six were found guilty of the perpetration of an emotive crime and, as such, were sentenced accordingly. With consideration for their age and their choosing to plead guilty, the entirety of the six guilty children were sentenced to a life of hard labour in a Valean penal camp. They would spend the rest of their natural lives working day in and day out to harvest and produce resources for the betterment of all Valean citizens.

Honestly, they were lucky; there were only two other punishments under Valean law for those who would commit an emotive crime.

Summary execution or exile.

Some said the two were the same thing.

At least with hard labour, you got to live in a well-guarded labour camp and were granted food, water and a safe place to rest. With recent adjustments to the penal camp laws brought about by a desire to reduce the risk of Grimm incursion, they were even granted one day off a week and access to light recreational amenities for well-behaved inmates.

Of course, the hard labour was no joke. Stone, ore, lumber, and Dust were all crucial resources that penal camps harvested. Each inmate was equipped with a compliance collar that would detonate should they try to escape or attack a guard. If a Grimm incursion did occur that the camp’s defences couldn’t withstand, the prisoners would be abandoned to fend for themselves.

Such was the fate of those who would commit atrocities unfit for civilised life.

The seventh guilty party, Mr Khaki Heard, was sentenced to execution.

The man had suffered the worst night terrors and almost seemed happy at the verdict.

It was better than he deserved.

With Saphron granted the justice she rightfully deserved, it was her brother’s turn to face a jury of his peers. However, it was a completely different situation; rather than being attacked and bombarded by accusations and having his character practically annihilated, his legal team had him coming out smelling like roses.

It was a beautifully spun narrative, a heartbreaking story of a younger brother forced to act to defend the well-being of his sister. Driven by a righteous and, most importantly, relatable anger to fight back against seven villainous individuals whose cruelty had already seen them sentenced to some of the harshest punishments available under Valean law. With evidence showing his actions were done to prevent further torment to a member of his family and a clear display of restraint in his actions, the jury was practically rooting for him by the end.

And like that, Jaune Arc went free.

Sure, there were some punishments, like the fact that he had to be expelled from his school due to its zero-violence policy.

It would have been a shame if Jaune hadn’t accumulated the necessary academic accreditations to graduate whenever he pleased in the previous years.

However, this meant he had to miss out on a graduation ceremony.

He also had to attend a mandatory psychiatric evaluation to determine his mental well-being after such a traumatic series of events and to understand why his actions were wrong, if understandable.

He attended a handful of sessions before the psychiatrist determined he was aware of his actions and that Jaune showed genuine remorse for having to do what he did. The psychiatrist also stated he was very sound and highly rational, able to understand and process his emotions efficiently.

Jett still needed to learn how Jaune pulled that one off, but it was impressive.

The last was less a punishment and more a side effect of the tumultuous series of events, but it affected Jaune prominently.

He became an urban myth.

Everyone knew of the Arc sisters, easily recognisable by their golden hair and sky-blue eyes, each of them a beauty, to be sure. They were each bold and colourful with prominent personalities that captivated and shone to any who paid attention.

They knew of their parents, the colossal Cloud Arc, Hunter Commander of Reach, and a powerful Huntsman. Of course, he was matched by his wife, the exotic Hellebore Arc, an Amazonian beauty from Mistral who was reserved and aloof and had an aura of danger and mystique about her.

But following that hellish month, it was Jaune Arc who was the talk of the town.

But no one knew anything about him.

Courtesy of his loner nature and advanced curriculum, there was not a single person outside his family that could even recognise the kid. Since his case was tied to the commitment of an emotive crime and he wasn’t one of the guilty parties, he was protected from having his picture shown, meaning the only one they had was several years old.

And he was a ghost concerning unnecessary conversation.

So Jaune, through no action of his own, became the mythical ‘Son of Arc’, cryptid of Reach.

The rumours about him were also truly outrageous.

Things like ‘he fought like a savage beast’ and ‘could break bones with little effort’.

That he was ‘as tall as his father and as quiet as his mother’, that ‘you wouldn’t know he was there until he was on top of you’.

Supposedly he could ‘haunt your dreams and know your deepest fear with just a glance’.

That he ‘doesn’t have Aura because he doesn’t need it to kill you’.

They said, ‘he fought a whole gang and won’.

That ‘criminals fear him and turn themselves in rather suffer his wrath’.

That he is ‘immune to pain’.

That he ‘killed a Grimm when he was only five years old with nothing but his bare hands’.

He can ‘stop your heart without you even knowing’.

Jett had heard them all in one variation or another, but honestly, they did little more than convince him that some people had very overactive imaginations. But if Jett had learned one thing over that chaotic month, it was this.

You do not fuck with the Arcs.

A.N.

It’s done…

Heh…heheheheheeheh

MUHAAHAHAHAHAAAAA

We are back in business! A crossroads before us as we have choices, and I will put them up for a vote! But that’s for you guys. For now, I wanna cover two things.

1. An emotive crime is a crime as determined by the Council to be of such magnitude that their commitment can have long-lasting effects on the population and, as such, present an unacceptable hazard due to significantly increasing negativity.

2. Prisons must be a fucking nightmare in Remnant, and as such, I can only see them existing if they present a net positive. Especially since they would always be a horrendous source of negativity and an active lure for Grimm. I can only imagine a punishment designed more to rehabilitate than punish for more minor crimes. For other crimes… can’t be negative if you’re dead.

Now this bit his is for you guys, yeah, you guys, the patrons.

Thank you so much for your support. I really appreciate it, and it’s so cool to see that something I made is desirable enough to be worth something. You all have my earnest gratitude, and I hope my writing can improve to be worthy of your support!

So because you guys were so willing to spend here is another chapter, I might make this a regular thing, but that’s up to you guys.

Anyway, Happy New Year!

And as always.

Until next time.