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Minecraft Jaune Omake: Faunus Jaune 1
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 04:59:27 +0000 UTCHey-o! Here's the what-if omake I had planned months ago: what if Minecraft Jaune was a Faunus? Turns out, the kingdoms hoping to exploit him are even more screwed than they are in the main storyline. Meanwhile, Blake just gets an immediate critical success dice roll due to the race modifier.
For people asking, the guy commissioning this is on vacay and he'll be back in a month or two. So omake first. Hope you guys enjoy this one.
For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543 gmail . com
[line break]
Blake had seen many impressive things in her life. Atlas's floating marvel of technology (which was used to prop up exploitative racists), Mistral's ancient temples perched atop mountains (also used to prop up exploitative racists), the grandeur of Vale's walls that kept the Grimm at bay (less racist, but that wasn't saying much), and the labyrinthine maze of Vacuo's capital (not racists, if only because they hated everone outside of their group).
But nothing, not a single thing, had prepared her for the sight of Domremy.
The village-turned-kingdom stood as a testament to what was possible when someone with extraordinary abilities decided to use them for the betterment of all. Buildings that would have made Atlesian architects envious rose from what had once been simple countryside. Streets were immaculately paved, every storefront meticulously designed to be both beautiful and practical. The wall surrounding the settlement rivaled Vale's own defenses, with turrets and watchtowers that made the perimeter look utterly impregnable. Specialized airships flew through the air patrolling the city and it's surroundings while golems walked the streets hailing citizens.
It was nothing like the rough-hewn settlements Blake had passed through during her time with the White Fang. Those places had been built from necessity, cobbled together from whatever materials could be scavenged or afforded to allow survival against the Grimm and bandits (and groups like the White Fang...). Domremy was different. Every inch of it screamed intention and care.
Blake's cat ears twitched beneath her bow as she took in the sounds of a thriving community. Children laughing, merchants calling out their wares, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. Al signs of prosperity that she rarely saw outside the kingdoms, "It's nothing like the reports said," Weiss murmured beside her, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at a building decorated with actual gold inlay, "This is..."
"Impossible?" Blake asked.
"I was going to say 'remarkable', but yes, that too."
Ruby had darted ahead with Yang, the younger girl practically vibrating with excitement as she examined every weapon shop they passed. It left Blake alone with Weiss, something that would have been uncomfortable just a few weeks ago. Now, after their confrontation about the White Fang, things between them were... not friendly, exactly, but civil. An improvement, even if their relationship was on tenterhooks. At least the heiress hadn't exposed her.
"Look at that," Blake said, gesturing toward a field where workers harvested crops that, from what they'd been told, had grown to maturity in mere minutes, "Do you know how many people this could feed? How many starving communities outside the kingdoms could benefit from something like that?"
Weiss followed her gaze, a calculating gleam in her ice-blue eyes, "The logistics of distribution would be challenging, but yes, the implications are staggering. The SDC has agricultural divisions that would pay fortunes for this technology."
Blake scoffed, "Of course that's where your mind goes. Corporate profit."
"Don't start, Blake," Weiss glared, her voice cooling several degrees, "Agricultural technology that can produce food this quickly would benefit everyone, not just the SDC. Lower food costs, less shipping expense, greater availability-"
"And higher profit margins," Blake cut in.
"Which could be reinvested in better working conditions and safety protocols for all employees," Weiss countered, "Despite what you think, not everything my family does is evil."
"Just most of it," Blake muttered, but let the subject drop. They'd had this argument too many times already. The two continued walking, drifting away from the busier part of town and separating from Yang and Ruby. Blake noticed that unlike in Mistral or Atlas, there wasn't any segregation here. Humans and Faunus worked side by side in the fields, chatted together at market stalls, and shared tables at outdoor cafes. There was none of the tension she was accustomed to seeing, none of the sidelong glances or pointedly ignored presences.
"Have you noticed?" she asked Weiss, nodding toward a mixed group sharing drinks outside a tavern.
"The integration?" Weiss replied, "Yes. It's... unusual for a settlement this far from the kingdoms."
"It's unusual for places inside the kingdoms too," Blake said, "But here it seems natural."
"Perhaps when everyone has enough, there's less reason to fight over scraps," Weiss said thoughtfully, "Or perhaps Jaune Arc simply doesn't tolerate prejudice. The reports said he's responsible for most of this, after all."
And there it was: the real reason they were here. Jaune Arc, the young man whose Semblance had apparently transformed this village into a wonder practically overnight. The person who, according to their briefing, could create almost anything from raw materials with astonishing speed and skill. Blake had her doubts about a single person being responsible for all this. She'd lived long enough to know that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. But as they walked through Domremy, those doubts became harder to maintain.
"You know," Weiss said, her voice suddenly casual in a way that immediately put Blake on guard, "The SDC could use someone like Jaune Arc."
"I'm sure it could," Blake replied dryly.
"I'm serious. With his abilities, we could revolutionize Dust mining. Make it safer, more efficient. The environmental impact alone would be - "
"Stop," Blake cut her off, irritation flaring, "Just stop. I know what you're thinking, Weiss."
The heiress raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "Oh? Do tell."
"You want to recruit him. You want to bring him back to Atlas so he can help the SDC become even more of a monopoly than it already is."
"I want to help him use his gifts for the greater good," Weiss countered, her voice sharp.
"The greater good?" Blake laughed, a short, bitter sound, "The SDC hasn't cared about the greater good since your grandfather died, and we both know it."
Weiss's face reddened, "That's exactly why I need Jaune's help! With his abilities supporting me, I could make the changes my father never would. Proper safety protocols, fair wages for all workers regardless of species, sustainable mining practices-"
"And what about the Faunus who don't work for the SDC?" Blake asked, "What about the ones living in cramped conditions in Menagerie because the humans pushed them out of everywhere else? The ones facing discrimination every day in the kingdoms? Are they supposed to just wait while the rich get richer?"
"What are you suggesting?" Weiss asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I'm suggesting that maybe Jaune's abilities could be better used helping the Faunus build a true home in Menagerie. A proper kingdom with defenses that could withstand Grimm attacks, with enough housing and food for everyone. A place where we wouldn't have to hide who we are or live in fear. A place for us to to go so we don't have to contend with being second-class citizens."
"And you don't think that's just as selfish as what you're accusing me of?" Weiss crossed her arms, "You want him to use his abilities exclusively for the Faunus."
"For a people who have been oppressed for generations," Blake replied, "For those who've never been given a fair chance at equality even after we fought and bled for it."
"By creating a separate, segregated kingdom? How does that promote unity between our peoples?" Weiss looked smug, as if it was the 'aha' she was looking for. After all, hadn't the Faunus fought in the Revolution for the right to not be segregated?
"It gives us a position of strength to negotiate from. How do you expect equality when one side has all the power? With a proper kingdom, the Faunus will have a seat at the table. Cause let's not pretend that Atlas doesn't use its army to bully concessions they want." They'd stopped walking, standing in an empty side street while their voices rose with each exchange. This was an old argument for them, one that had played out in various forms since their confrontation in the docks. Neither had budged in their position and both Ruby and Yang learned to just let them air out their grievances.
It was an argument she was getting tired of.
"We've been doing this dance since you found out about who I was." Blake sighed, rubbing her temples, "We're never going to agree."
"Probably not," Weiss pursed her lips, "But that doesn't change the facts. The SDC under my leadership could benefit millions across Remnant. With Jaune's help, we could revolutionize Dust extraction and distribution."
"And Menagerie could become a true sanctuary for my people," Blake countered, "A place where Faunus could live without humans looking down on them or exploiting them."
"So we're at an impasse."
"I suppose we are."
The tense silence between them was broken by the sound of construction. Not the typical bang of hammers or whine of power tools, but something stranger. A rhythmic popping and shifting, like pieces clicking together at impossible speeds.
Blake's curiosity overcame her irritation, "What is that?"
"Let's find out," Weiss replied, clearly just as intrigued.
They followed the sound to a previously empty field at the edge of town. What they saw made them both stop in their tracks. A young man with shaggy blond hair stood in the center of the field, moving with inhuman speed as he constructed what appeared to be a massive barn and silo. His hands blurred as he placed materials - wood, stone, metal - that seemed to appear from nowhere. The structure rose before their eyes, taking shape in minutes rather than the days or weeks it would've needed.
Around him, the earth itself transformed. Tilled soil appeared in neat rows, followed immediately by sprouting plants that grew to maturity in seconds. Wheat, corn, potatoes; an entire farm's worth of crops manifesting in the time it took Blake to blink a few times.
"That's him," Weiss whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and calculation, "That has to be Jaune Arc." Blake could only nod, stunned by the display. The reports hadn't exaggerated; if anything, they'd undersold his abilities. This wasn't just an unusual Semblance. This was something else entirely, something that defied everything she thought she knew about what was possible. Miracles on command. Something that made the fairy tales about magic look like the works of a stage magician.
As they watched, Jaune finished placing the last of the roofing on the barn and stepped back to admire his work. He stretched, rolling his shoulders as if he'd done nothing more strenuous than take a light jog.
"Perfect timing," Weiss murmured, smoothing down her combat skirt and checking her hair, "I should introduce myself. The SDC's reputation might help break the ice."
Blake nearly rolled her eyes. Weiss clearly intended to use her status to impress Jaune, to gain an advantage in securing his help. It was a calculated move, one Blake had seen the heiress employ before. Most people were intimidated or star-struck by the Schnee name. It usually worked. Weiss stepped forward, her posture perfect, a practiced smile on her face. The heiress in her element, prepared to charm and persuade and manipulate.
And then Jaune turned around.
At first glance, he looked unremarkable. Average height, athletic build, friendly face. Almost handsome, but not striking in the way someone with his abilities might be expected to be. He wore simple work clothes: jeans, a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and sturdy boots.
But as he moved, Blake noticed something that had been hidden by his shaggy blond hair: a pair of floppy golden ears that twitched slightly in the breeze.
Dog ears.
Jaune Arc was a Faunus.
Blake's breath caught in her throat as understanding dawned. She glanced at Weiss, whose perfect smile had frozen on her face, her eyes wide with shock. The heiress had clearly been expecting a human, someone she could approach with her usual confidence and social standing. Instead, she was faced with a member of the very race her family's company was notorious for mistreating.
A laugh bubbled up in Blake's throat, impossible to suppress. The irony was too perfect, "Go ahead, Weiss," Blake said, not bothering to hide her grin, "Tell a Faunus how he should help improve a company that treats our race as slave labor. I'm sure he'll be very receptive."
Weiss bristled, her composure fracturing as pink suffused her pale cheeks. For once, the eloquent heiress seemed at a loss for words. Blake reached up and untied her bow, letting her cat ears free in the open air. She rarely did this outside of their dorm room, but here, watching Weiss's carefully constructed plans crumble, she felt safe enough. Besides, she had a feeling it might help in what was to come.
With a satisfied little smile, Blake watched as Weiss gathered herself and stepped forward toward Jaune, "Hello there," Weiss said, her voice overly bright, "I'm Weiss Schnee. My team and I were sent to investigate your very remarkable settlement."
Blake didn't miss the slight falter in Jaune's friendly smile at the name "Schnee." It was subtle - just a momentary twitch at the corner of his lips - but it was there. Every Faunus on Remnant knew the Schnees. They were almost as bad as Mistral when it came to abusing their race. Those two kingdoms were the only ones who could still put up 'No Faunus Allowed' signs without it being considered illegal. Vale, to its credit, tried to be a bit more suble with its prejudice.
"Nice to meet you," Jaune said, extending a hand that Weiss shook perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, "Jaune Arc. Welcome to Domremy." His voice was warm, his manner was friendly, but Blake could tell it was just that. Polite. Nothing more. There was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before Weiss had announced her name. Blake had seen that look countless times before - Faunus being cordial to humans they didn't trust but couldn't afford to offend.
Weiss, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the subtle shift, plowed ahead, "What you've built here is simply remarkable. I've never seen anything like it. The agricultural applications alone must be revolutionary."
"Thanks," Jaune said with a modest shrug, "It just sort of... happens. My Semblance kicked in about six months ago, and things took off from there."
"Six months? All of this in just six months?" Weiss looked genuinely impressed, "The efficiency is astounding. I can imagine how such abilities could transform industries across Remnant."
Blake suppressed a snort. Weiss wasn't being subtle about steering the conversation toward business applications, "I guess," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck, his dog ears twitching slightly, "I mostly just wanted to help my hometown. Make sure everyone had enough to eat, safe places to live, that kind of thing."
"Very commendable," Weiss nodded, "But surely you've considered the broader implications? Your abilities could help countless people beyond Domremy."
Jaune's smile remained fixed in place, "That's the hope."
The conversation continued in this vein for several minutes, with Weiss making increasingly transparent attempts to highlight how the SDC could be a vehicle for Jaune's gifts to reach a wider audience. She spoke of resources, distribution networks, and global impact. Jaune nodded politely throughout, occasionally glancing at Blake's exposed cat ears with what seemed like curiosity. But his answers remained noncommittal, his enthusiasm clearly dampened by the Schnee name attached to the proposals.
Weiss's hopes of having Jaune Arc assist her were doomed before they began, but the heiress still insisted on continuing, growing obviously frustrated by his lukewarm responses. When it became obvious that her subtle attempts to endear herself weren't working, Blake decided to step in. She moved forward, extending her hand with a genuine smile.
"I'm Blake Belladonna," she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jaune."
The change was immediate. Jaune's rigid stance relaxed slightly when he saw her ears up close, his smile becoming more natural as he shook her hand, "Another Faunus! Good to meet you too, Blake. Not many cat Faunus in these parts."
"I could say the same for dog Faunus at Beacon," she replied, "Though I usually keep these hidden." She twitched her ears for emphasis.
"I get that," he said, his own ears drooping slightly, "Used to try hiding mine too, when I was younger. Did it every time we left the village to go to the kingdoms. Got tired of it, though."
There was a story there, Blake could tell. One that probably mirrored her own in many ways, "Would you mind showing us more of what you've built?" Blake asked, "This farm is incredible. I've never seen anything like it"
"Sure!" Jaune said, his enthusiasm returning, "I've got a new irrigation system I just finished that's pretty cool."
They began walking, and Blake noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that Weiss had been effectively relegated to following behind them. The heiress' face was a carefully controlled mask, but Blake could see the frustration in her eyes. Weiss Schnee was not someone used to being upstaged.
As they walked, Blake offered genuine compliments, expressing genuine amazement at the ingenious designs Jaune had implemented throughout Domremy. Unlike Weiss's calculated flattery, Blake's admiration came naturally. What Jaune had created was truly remarkable - not for its profit potential, but for how it had improved people's lives. The fact that he was a Faunus made the praise come more easily, much as that was hard to admit.
"You've done amazing things here," she said as they examined a water purification system that could process thousands of gallons per hour, "Everyone seems so happy."
"That's the idea," Jaune replied, his chest puffing up slightly with pride, "No one goes hungry, everyone has good housing, and the defenses keep the Grimm out. It's what every settlement outside the kingdoms dreams of."
Blake nodded. Time to shoot her shot, "Speaking of settlements outside the kingdoms... have you ever been to Menagerie?"
Jaune's expression shifted, his lips curling down in a sympathetic frown, "Not personally, but my dad came from there before he met my mom and they had me and my sisters. He doesn't talk about it much, but when he does..." He shook his head, "Doesn't sound like an easy place to live. Has it gotten any better?"
Blake didn't even have to embellish, "No," she said softly, "If anything, it's worse. More Faunus arrive every year, fleeing discrimination in the kingdoms, but the habitable area hasn't changed. The buildings are cramped together so tightly that a single arsonist could take down half the town. And most of the island is still uninhabitable due to the harsh terrain and dangerous Grimm." The Kingdoms knew exactly what they were doing when they gave the Faunus the island generations ago.
Jaune's ears drooped further, "That's... That's not right. All those people, crowded into such a small area?"
"It's all we have," Blake said, conscious of her use of 'we' but no longer caring to hide it, "The humans gave us an island where only a fraction of the land is actually livable, called it 'compensation' for years of mistreatment, and expected us to be grateful."
"My dad never seemed grateful," Jaune said with a humorless laugh, "Just said it was better than the alternative at the time."
Blake nodded, sensing an opening, "I've been thinking - hoping, really - that someone with your abilities might be able to help. The infrastructure in Menagerie is barely holding together, and the defenses against Grimm are minimal. With your help, it could become a true home for Faunus. A place we could be proud of." Past Jaune, she could see Weiss gnashing her teeth together. If Blake were a pettier person, she would've smirked.
Jaune was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Behind them, Weiss had gone very still, listening intently, "I'd like to see it," he said finally, "Menagerie, I mean. Dad's told me stories, but I should see it for myself. Maybe there's something I could do."
Blake felt a surge of hope, "Would you want to visit? I could arrange it." It would mean seeing her parents again, but she'd suck up any shame she felt for this.
"Yeah," Jaune nodded, his expression resolute, "I wanna see it."
[line break]
James Ironwood stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, gazing out at the gleaming spires of Atlas as they floated majestically above the industrial sprawl of Mantle below. The cityscape, usually a source of pride, failed to lift his spirits tonight. The tumbler of whiskey in his left hand - his flesh and blood hand - caught the light as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully.
The intelligence reports were spread across his desk behind him. He'd read them three times already, each review only deepening the furrow in his brow.
"Disconcerting" was perhaps too mild a term.
Atlas and Mistral had always maintained surveillance on Menagerie, as had Vale to a lesser extent. It was standard procedure when dealing with a territory that housed a significant portion of the White Fang's sympathizers and recruitment base. James had never particularly liked the necessity, but security concerns trumped personal discomfort. It hadn't been only his body that he'd sacrificed for the sake of the greater good, and it wouldn't be the last.
He took a slow sip of whiskey, feeling the burn trace a path down his throat.
If he was honest with himself - and James prided himself on his honesty, even in private moments - he had never approved of Menagerie's state. The so-called "Faunus homeland" had always seemed more like a reservation than a gift. A place to contain rather than empower.
Not that his opinion on the matter carried much weight. As the General of the Atlesian military and Headmaster of Atlas Academy, he was, alongside Jacques Schnee, one of the faces of what many Faunus considered systemic oppression. Anything he might say now about Menagerie's conditions would be dismissed as empty, meaningless platitudes. Too little, too late.
The whiskey glass clinked against the window sill as he set it down, his attention drawn back to the reports. Menagerie was changing. Rapidly. The ramshackle collection of huts, shacks, and the occasional cabin had transformed into something else entirely over the past three months. The images from their surveillance drones showed new buildings rising at an impossible rate. Not just any buildings - structures that rivaled Atlas's own architectural achievements in both beauty and apparent functionality.
The previously overcrowded coastline had expanded inward, pushing back the boundaries of what had once been considered uninhabitable terrain. Where once there had been dangerous wilderness, there were now orderly streets, defensive walls, agricultural fields, and even what appeared to be industrial complexes.
Jaune Arc and his "Knights" - the autonomous golems he created through his extraordinary Semblance - were systematically terraforming the harsh landscape and eliminating the Grimm that had made so much of the island deadly to settlers. Areas that had been considered lost causes for generations were now being reclaimed at a pace that seemed to accelerate with each passing week.
The glass creaked under James's tightening grip as he picked it up again. Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang, making formal announcements that he was working for the benefit of all Faunus, not for extremists. He'd even helped apprehend several White Fang operatives who had attempted to sabotage his efforts or divert resources. He'd claimed that while he understood their desire to be seen as equal, he refused to support or even imply he approved of their actions.
It should have been reassuring. It wasn't.
Atlas had grown comfortable with its position as Remnant's most technologically advanced and militarily powerful kingdom, a status it had maintained for nearly a century. That position granted them security, influence, and control. All things that James considered essential for humanity's continued survival against the Grimm.
And yet, in just three months, a single Dog Faunus with an anomalous Semblance had begun to close that gap. The rate of advancement in Menagerie was unprecedented. New defensive systems, infrastructure, even what appeared to be research facilities. All created by one man who treated miracles as parlor tricks.
The question that kept James awake at night was simple but haunting: what would Menagerie look like in three years? In five? A fully developed kingdom, perhaps more advanced than Atlas itself, populated almost entirely by a race that half of Remnant's kingdoms had spent generations treating as subhuman and second-class.
The implications were... troubling.
James drained the last of his whiskey, setting the empty glass down with a decisive click. He straightened his tie collar, a habit from his younger days before half his body was replaced with machinery. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Political tensions, resource competition, shifting alliances - all were inevitable consequences of the rapid rise of a new power on Remnant. The balance that had maintained a tenuous peace between the four kingdoms was already showing signs of strain.
He would need to prepare Atlas for whatever came next. And beyond that, he would need to make contact with Arc. Not as an adversary, but as a potential ally. The alternative was unthinkable.
The political ramifications alone were enough to give him a migraine. The Council was in a state of near panic, bombarding him with demands for action, for contingency plans, for intelligence on Arc's capabilities. Jacques Schnee had been calling daily, his thinly veiled threats becoming less veiled with each conversation.
"Sir?" Specialist Schnee's voice cut through his thoughts as she entered his office after a crisp knock, "The Council is assembling for an emergency session in thirty minutes. They're requesting your presence."
"Thank you, Winter," he replied, not turning from the window, "I'll be there." He heard her hesitate, which was unusual for his normally decisive Specialist, "Something on your mind, Schnee?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Granted."
"Jacques has been making... overtures to certain Council members. He's pushing for military intervention in Menagerie under the guise of 'security concerns.'" James wasn't surprised. Of course Jacques would be the first to call for action. The SDC's monopoly on Dust was under direct threat for the first time in decades. While there was no proof that Arc was mining Dust, the machinery and infastructure he was building didn't seem to need it. If Menagerie were ever to start expanding...
"And what's your assessment of the situation, Specialist?" he asked, finally turning to face her.
Winter's face remained impassive, but he could see the conflict in her eyes, "From a purely military standpoint, sir, Menagerie poses no direct threat to Atlas at this time. Their defenses appear to be largely focused on Grimm, not on repelling kingdom forces. However..." She paused, "The rate of advancement is concerning. If it continues at the current pace, the balance of power in Remnant could shift significantly."
"And from a non-military standpoint?"
This time, Winter's composure cracked slightly, "I believe any aggressive action against Menagerie would be... morally questionable at best, sir. They're simply improving their quality of life, not threatening other kingdoms. Justifying military action would be possible, but other kingdoms could see it as needlessly aggressive and overreaching."
Ironwood nodded, surprised but pleased by her candor, "Thank you for your honesty, Winter. Dismissed."
After she left, James turned back to the view, downing the last of his whiskey in one swift motion. The intelligence reports had included photos - aerial shots of new buildings rising, farmland expanding, walls being constructed. But the images that had stuck with him most were of the Faunus themselves. Children playing in parks that hadn't existed three months ago. Families moving into sturdy homes with electricity and running water. People who had lived their entire lives in overcrowded conditions now having space to breathe, to live with dignity. It was difficult to frame that as a threat, no matter how the Council might try.
And yet... the world was changing too fast. Power structures that had stood for generations were being upended in a matter of months. That kind of rapid change bred fear, and fear bred conflict.
James sighed. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Much worse.
The question was whether Atlas would be on the right side of history when the dust settled.
[line break]
The map of Menagerie spread before her on the table looked nothing like the one she'd memorized years ago. Sienna Khan traced a finger along the new settlements expanding into what had once been uninhabitable territory, her golden eyes narrowing with each inch her finger traversed, "Three months," she said, unable to fully mask the mix of awe and fury in her voice, "He's transformed half the island in just three months."
Across from her, Adam slammed his fist onto the table, causing the map to jump. His Grimm mask couldn't hide the tension in his jaw or the way his entire body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage, "He's a traitor to his own kind," Adam snarled, "A Faunus with power like that - power that could finally bring the humans to their knees - and what does he do? He builds houses and farms. He plays at being a savior while our brothers and sisters continue to suffer in the mines and factories of Atlas."
Sienna didn't disagree, but she maintained her composure. As High Leader of the White Fang, she couldn't afford to display the same unbridled fury as her subordinates, no matter how justified. Control was power, and she never relinquished power willingly.
When they'd first heard rumors of Jaune Arc - a Dog Faunus capable of creating structures and materials at an impossible rate - Sienna had felt something she hadn't experienced in years: hope. Not the grim determination that had sustained her through years of fighting for Faunus rights, but genuine, bright hope. A Faunus with such abilities could change everything. He could arm their forces with weapons that would make Atlas's military look primitive. He could build them bases that no human army could breach. He could, at last, give them the advantage they needed to force humanity to acknowledge their equality.
But then came the news that Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang. Worse, he had actively helped apprehend White Fang operatives who had attempted to appropriate some of his creations for their cause. She still remembered how shocked she'd been when she heard the news.
And now this. Menagerie, under Ghira Belladonna's weak leadership, had officially designated the White Fang as a terrorist organization. Any Faunus found supporting them would be treated as criminals, denied the benefits of Menagerie's rapid expansion and new prosperity.
"The people support him," she said, voicing the most bitter truth of all, "Our own people have turned against us."
"They're cowards and traitors," Adam growled, "Happy to forget who fought and bled for them all these years."
Sienna's right hand twitched, the only outward sign of her anger, "How quick they are to forget their gratitude," she said, bitterness seeping into her words despite her best efforts, "Five years we've been fighting - sacrificing our lives - to earn them the respect they deserve. And now they turn on us for a few new buildings and the promise of human 'acceptance'."
The White Fang had been the only ones willing to stand up and fight when peaceful protests achieved nothing. When Faunus were still being beaten in the streets of Mistral, denied service in Atlas, paid a fraction of what humans earned for the same work everywhere except Vacuo. The White Fang had struck back, showing humans that there was a price to be paid for such treatment. That they weren't animals to be stamped down on.
And yes, they had spilled blood, had destroyed property, had instilled fear. But it had been working. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably, their tactics had been forcing change. Businesses that discriminated against Faunus found their storefronts shattered. Politicians who pushed anti-Faunus legislation found their homes vandalized and themselves taken by those they abused. Military convoys transporting Faunus prisoners were ambushed and liberated.
Every victory bought with Faunus blood and courage... now being threatened by one dog-eared boy playing builder.
"Our attempts to sabotage his operations have all failed," Sienna said, gesturing to the reports scattered around the map, "His 'Knights' guard his work sites too effectively, and our scientists have made no progress in reverse-engineering any of his creations." It was frustrating beyond measure. They had obtained samples of his materials - weapons, armor, even fragments of buildings - but none of it made sense to their technicians. The materials themselves seemed to defy conventional analysis, as if they operated by different physical laws.
"I want him dead," Adam said, voice flat and cold, "Him and that Belladonna traitor by his side."
Sienna glanced up at the mention of Blake Belladonna. Adam's former protege - perhaps more than that - had been seen constantly at Arc's side these past months, reportedly acting as his guide and advisor on Faunus matters. The girl's defection had clearly become a personal wound for Adam, one that festered and poisoned his judgment.
"No," Sienna said firmly, "Killing him accomplishes nothing. His creations would remain, and he would become a martyr. The great Faunus innovator struck down by 'radical extremists'." She laced the last words with contempt, "It would only push more of our people away from our cause. They would see us as sabotaging our own race."
"Then what do you suggest, High Leader?" Adam asked, not entirely succeeding in keeping the insubordination from his tone.
Sienna stepped closer to the map, her eyes fixed on the location marked as Arc's primary residence - a newly constructed complex near the coast of Menagerie, "We take him," she said, "We show him the truth of what humans have done to our kind throughout history. We make him understand that his gifts belong to his people. His real people, not the humans who would use his abilities and then discard him when he's no longer useful or the the cowards who are content to hide under his skirt rather than fighting for their freedom."
Adam's posture shifted, interested but skeptical, "You think you can convert him to our cause?"
"I think a Faunus can be reminded of his true loyalties," Sienna replied, "And if persuasion fails..." Her lips curled up in a cold smile, "We have other methods. His power is too valuable to waste, even if the vessel that holds it is... misguided."
To refuse to aid the White Fang - to actively work against them - was nothing short of betrayal to their entire race. Arc needed to understand that. The White Fang wasn't just an organization; it was the only real hope for Faunus to achieve the respect and equality they deserved.
Peaceful cooperation had failed for decades. That approach had earned them nothing but empty promises and the "gift" of a barely habitable island where they could be conveniently forgotten. Only through strength, through fear, would humans ever truly see them as equals. The Faunus Revolution wasn't won by picketing and building farms, it was won through blood and sacrifice. By the bravery and strength of those who refused to be treated as animals to corral in a reservation.
Arc was squandering his gifts, building comfortable houses while their brothers and sisters still wore shock collars in Dust mines. He was a race traitor of the worst kind - one with the power to make a real difference, choosing instead to play by human rules.
"We'll need a plan," Adam said, already sounding more focused, "His security is significant, and the Belladonnas are watching for us."
"Then we'll be smarter than they expect," Sienna replied, "We find his weakness. Everyone has one."
She looked once more at the transformed map of Menagerie, imagining how different it could be - how different all of Remnant could be - if Arc's powers were directed toward proper goals. Not just building a comfortable ghetto for Faunus to live in, segregated from the rest of the world, but creating weapons and fortifications that would force humans to the negotiating table. Creating a world where Faunus could walk anywhere without fear, take any job they were qualified for, live wherever they chose.
A world where Faunus children wouldn't grow up learning to fear human cruelty.
"Begin preparations," she said, "I want our best operatives ready to move. We have one chance to do this right."
Adam nodded, a cruel smile forming on his lips, "And the Blake?"
Sienna considered for a moment. The daughter of her predecessor was a complication, but not an insurmountable one,"If she stands in our way, she shares his fate. No one person - no matter their lineage or abilities - is more important than our cause."
She dismissed Adam with a wave, turning back to the maps and reports spread before her. Jaune Arc had changed the game. Now it was her move. If not Menagerie, then that little hamlet he first called home. The one where Humans and Faunus pretended to live in harmony.
Foolish. Jaune Arc was weak, willing to turn the other cheek and forgive and forget rather than leveraging his abilities for all they were worth. He could have ensured Faunus dominance, that the Humans received even a fraction of the pain and humiliation they inflicted, but he didn't. They would use his gifts better than he ever could.
[line break]
The marble beneath Leonardo Lionheart's feet felt cold despite his thick-soled shoes. Mistral's council chambers had always been too cold for his liking. Deliberately so, he suspected. The chamber's tall ceilings and stone columns created an atmosphere of austere grandeur that was meant to intimidate, to remind everyone who entered of Mistral's ancient glory and power.
Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the long table, his lion's tail curled tightly around him beneath his robes. He'd been Headmaster of Haven Academy for nearly twenty years, a position that automatically granted him a seat on Mistral's Council of Seven. A great honor, he was constantly reminded. A Faunus elevated to such a prestigious position. Wasn't that proof that Mistral was progressive, forward-thinking?
He knew better, of course. His position was largely symbolic, a convenient shield against accusations of the systemic discrimination that ran through Mistral's veins like an old poison. Ozpin had pulled strings to get him this position in the hopes that it would improve relations. The immortal fool was either blind or willfully ignorant if he truly believed that.
The six other council members were deep in discussion, voices echoing off the intricately decorated walls. The topic of the day was, unsurprisingly, Menagerie. More specifically, Jaune Arc, "The reports from our intelligence operatives are concerning," Councilor Moss said, adjusting his thin-framed glasses, "Three months ago, Menagerie was a backwater settlement with barely enough infrastructure to support its population. Now..." He gestured to the holographic display at the center of the table, showing aerial images of the rapidly expanding territory.
"Not just expanding," Councilor Thorne added. She was the Minister of Defense, and her sharp eyes missed nothing, "Advancing. Look at these defensive installations. Some of them rival our own coastal fortifications, and they were built in days, not years."
"It's the materials that concern me," said Councilor Wells, the youngest among them at thirty-five. He oversaw Mistral's considerable mining interests, "My engineers can't make sense of the samples we've managed to obtain. They're stronger than anything we can produce, and the Faunus is just... creating them out of raw materials."
Leo noticed how they referred to Jaune Arc as "the Faunus". Not by name, not as a person, but as a curiosity. A tool. A resource to be assessed and, if possible, acquired. His own presence at the table, the medallion of Haven Academy heavy around his neck, suddenly felt even more like a cruel joke than usual.
"What exactly do we know about him?" asked Councilor Drake, Minister of Intelligence, "Background, psychology, potential weaknesses?"
"Born and raised in a small village in Vale's territory," Moss replied, consulting his scroll, "Domremy. Dog Faunus, obviously. No formal combat training, though he's created those 'Knights' of his that apparently serve as effective bodyguards. His Semblance apparently manifested only recently; about nine months ago. Before that, there was nothing remarkable about him."
"And now he's turning that festering island into a proper kingdom," Councilor Vex snorted. He was the oldest among them, a relic of Mistral's more openly prejudiced past, "Giving those animals ideas above their station." Leo's nails dug into his palms beneath the table, but his face remained placid. He'd had decades of practice at hiding his reactions to such casual bigotry.
"The question is," said Councilor Hemlock, who had been silent until now, "What are we going to do about it?" As Prime Minister, his word carried the most weight in the council, though decisions ultimately required majority support.
"We should be reaching out to him," Drake suggested, "Offering incentives to bring his talents to Mistral instead. Imagine what he could do for our infrastructure, our military capabilities. With our foundation, we could surpass Vale and Atlas in a year."
"Before Atlas gets to him," Thorne agreed, "You know James Ironwood won't hesitate to make an offer."
"What could we possibly offer him that would outweigh what he's already doing?" Wells asked, "He's essentially becoming the architect of a new kingdom. What could tempt him away from that?"
Vex laughed, a harsh sound that grated on Leo's ears, "He's a Faunus. He should be grateful for the chance to serve his betters." The old man gestured dismissively, "We'll dangle some promises about reviewing the segregation laws, toss him a medal or two. That should be enough to get him wagging his tail and eager to work for us."
Leo felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. They were speaking this way with him sitting right there - a Faunus Headmaster, supposedly one of their equals. The casual contempt was breathtaking, even after all these years, "I'm not certain such an approach would be effective," he said, speaking for the first time. His voice was mild, careful, "Arc has already demonstrated a commitment to improving conditions for his people. Empty promises might not sway him."
Vex's eyes narrowed, as if just remembering Leo's presence, "Listen to our Faunus expert," he said with a smirk, "Tell us, Lionheart, what would convince one of your kind to abandon his little island paradise and serve Mistral instead?" He said the words, 'your kind', like an insult.
The question was a trap, as they all were. If he suggested something too beneficial to Faunus, he'd be accused of divided loyalties. If he suggested something demeaning, he'd be betraying his own people, "Perhaps genuine respect and fair terms," Leo said evenly, knowing even as he spoke that his words would fall on deaf ears, "Arc's accomplishments speak for themselves. Approaching him as an equal partner rather than a resource to be exploited might be more productive."
"An equal partner," Vex repeated, the words dripping with disdain, "Next you'll suggest we invite him to sit at this very table."
"That's enough, Vex," Hemlock said, though there was no real rebuke in his tone, "Lionheart raises a valid point about approach. We need to be strategic."
The discussion continued, with proposals ranging from diplomatic overtures to economic incentives to more... aggressive measures. No one suggested actually addressing the legitimate grievances of Faunus in Mistral territory. No one proposed real changes to the laws that kept Faunus as second-class citizens at best that might convince Jaune Arc to at least consider listening.
Leo sat in silence, offering only the occasional comment when directly addressed. Each moment in this chamber reminded him why he'd made the choice he had - why he'd accepted Salem's offer. It wasn't just fear, though there was plenty of that. It was also the bone-deep weariness of fighting a losing battle against people who saw him as inherently lesser, no matter his accomplishments.
He had been fighting all his life to prove his worth, to earn respect that should have been freely given. And for what? To sit at a table where his presence was barely tolerated and his voice ignored? To represent a kingdom that spoke of equality while practicing subjugation? What was there to save in Mistral that was worth saving when these six were the ones the people were happy to vote into office? Was he expected to sacrifice himself for those who would spit on his grave?
As the council continued their plotting, Leo's thoughts turned to Jaune Arc. Would they succeed in manipulating him? Would they break him as they had broken so many others? Or would he remain in Menagerie, continuing to build something that might, at last, offer Faunus a genuine home? Leo wasn't sure which outcome he hoped for anymore. All he knew was that when Salem's forces finally came for Mistral, a significant part of him would feel nothing but relief.
"Lionheart," Hemlock's voice cut through his thoughts, "You have connections with Ozpin. What's his position on this Menagerie situation?"
Leo straightened, the practiced lies coming easily now, "He's monitoring the situation closely, of course. I believe he's already had some contact with Arc, though I don't know the details of their discussion." He didn't actually know, of course, but sowing distrust was disgustingly simple.
"Of course he has," Vex muttered, "Always interfering where he doesn't belong."
"Find out what you can," Hemlock said, "We need to know if Vale is already making moves to secure the Faunus's loyalty."
"I'll do my best," Leo agreed, the words hollow in his mouth. He wouldn't even try. A petty little victory against this council of self-important racists.
As the meeting continued, Leo retreated further into himself, nodding and agreeing where expected. His thoughts were elsewhere. On the students at Haven who would soon become casualties in a war they didn't understand, on the people of Mistral who remained blissfully ignorant of what was coming. And, strangely, on Jaune Arc, a Faunus who had found a way to make a difference without compromising himself. Leo wondered what that must feel like.
[line break]
The clockwork mechanisms of Beacon Tower clicked and whirred above Ozpin's head, a steady rhythm that had long ago become white noise to him. The passing of time - something that had once seemed so insignificant to someone of his... unique circumstances - now felt more pressing than it had in decades.
Ozpin took a measured sip from his mug of hot chocolate as he scrolled through the latest intelligence briefing on his scroll. The reports on Menagerie's transformation continued to astound him, even after three months of regular updates. He'd thought his ability to be surprised had dulled over the centuries, but Jaune Arc had proven him wrong in that regard.
The aerial photographs showed a settlement - no, a proper city now - expanding at a rate that defied conventional understanding. New districts, defensive installations, infrastructure networks, research facilities. All created by one young man with an extraordinary Semblance.
If it truly was just a Semblance. Ozpin had his doubts. In all his many lifetimes, he'd never encountered an ability quite like Arc's. The closest comparison might be the magic of humanity before the capricious Brothers commited mass genocide, but even they couldn't match the sheer scope and versatility of what the young Faunus was doing. The power reminded him of something the Brothers could do moreso than Semblance or even magic.
He set his scroll down, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. The headache forming behind his eyes had little to do with the information itself and more to do with its implications.
Atlas, Mistral, even Vale's council - they would all be scrambling now, caught between panic at the rise of a Faunus-dominated power and greed for what Arc's abilities could do for them. James would be viewing this through a military lens, no doubt already calculating how Menagerie's advancements might shift the balance of power. Leonardo, his dear friend, would be caught in an impossible position between Mistral's endemic prejudices and his own Faunus heritage.
And Salem... she would certainly be aware of Arc by now. A person with his abilities would be a prime target for recruitment. Or elimination.
Ozpin needed to speak with the young man. Not for Vale, not for political advantage, but because of what was at stake in the shadow war that had raged for millennia. Arc needed to understand the true threat, to see the bigger picture beyond the immediate concerns of improving Menagerie.
That was easier said than done, however.
Even with his position as Headmaster of Beacon, he doubted Menagerie would simply welcome him and let him speak with their newfound savior. Relations between the island and the kingdoms had never been warm, and recent events had only widened the divide. Ghira Belladonna's government had become notably more assertive in its diplomatic communications, leveraging their new capabilities to demand respect rather than request it.
Vale was far less prejudiced than Mistral or Atlas, it was true. The kingdom prided itself on its more progressive attitudes toward Faunus. But Ozpin knew that the Faunus were far less willing to accept "not as racist as the others" as an excuse these days. They wanted - deserved - genuine equality, not comparative improvements. He took another sip of his drink, allowing himself a moment of regret for opportunities missed, for changes that had come too late. It was a familiar feeling, one he'd carried through countless lifetimes.
But dwelling on the past wouldn't solve the present dilemma. He needed to reach Arc, and for that, he needed an intermediary.
His gaze fell on his scroll, and he tapped the screen to bring up student records. Blake Belladonna's file appeared, complete with her official Beacon photo. The daughter of Menagerie's chieftain, former White Fang member (if his intelligence was correct), and, most importantly, Jaune Arc's apparent confidante.
It was well-known among the faculty that Ms. Belladonna had been spending a significant amount of time in Menagerie between her classes. Arc had apparently created a portal specifically for her use - a shortcut between Beacon and the island that allowed her to maintain her studies while still participating in Menagerie's transformation. Anyone else who attempted to use the portal found themselves unable to pass through, according to Professor Goodwitch's observations. Curious - and perhaps opportunistic - students had tried only to end up crashing into the shimmering portal like it was an impenetrable barrier.
Ozpin sent a brief message to Glynda, asking her to bring Ms. Belladonna to his office after her current class. Then he turned to the window, gazing out at the school grounds below. Students traversed the pathways between buildings, some hurrying to classes, others lounging in small groups beneath the trees. Human and Faunus alike, training to become the protectors of a world that didn't know the full extent of the threats it faced.
The elevator chimed exactly thirty minutes later, announcing Glynda's arrival with Ms. Belladonna. The young woman stepped into his office, amber eyes cautious behind her neutral expression. Now that her Faunus connection was open knowledge, she no longer wore the bow that masked her cat ears.
"Ms. Belladonna," Ozpin greeted her with a nod, "Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat."
She sat stiffly in the chair across from his desk, her posture betraying her wariness, "Professor Goodwitch said you wanted to speak with me."
"Indeed." Ozpin steepled his fingers, "I was hoping to discuss your friend, Mr. Arc."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, "What about him?"
"I'd like to arrange a meeting with him. There are matters of great importance that I believe he should be made aware of."
"Matters concerning Vale?" The suspicion in her voice was unmistakable.
"Matters concerning all of Remnant," Ozpin said gently, "Including Menagerie."
Blake's ears twitched, an obvious tell of her agitation, "Jaune is very busy with the reconstruction efforts. And he's... cautious about meeting with representatives from the kingdoms."
"Understandably so," Ozpin said, "I imagine he's received numerous overtures from various officials, all eager to... benefit from his abilities."
"That's one way of putting it," Blake said dryly.
Ozpin smiled, recognizing the diplomatic phrasing for what it was, "I want to assure you, Ms. Belladonna, that my interest in speaking with Mr. Arc is not about exploiting his talents for Vale's benefit. This is about the Huntsmen, about our shared mission to protect humanity - all of humanity, Human and Faunus alike - from the Grimm."
Blake regarded him silently for a long moment, her expression unreadable, "You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical, Headmaster. Jaune's already had people approach him claiming they only want to help, only to reveal ulterior motives."
"A healthy skepticism is valuable," Ozpin said, "Particularly in times of change. But I hope you know me well enough by now to understand that I hold the safety of my students, of all people, as my highest priority."
He saw the conflict in her eyes, the weighing of trust against caution. Blake Belladonna had not had an easy path to Beacon. Her background in the White Fang, her decision to leave it behind, her struggle to find a new way forward. All of it had shaped her into someone who measured her trust carefully. Had he been more rash (or more like James), he might've used her past in the White Fang as leverage, but he knew that would've been foolish. It would've only driven her away, and with her, any chance of Mr. Arc's trust.
"The Grimm are a threat to us all, Ms. Belladonna," he continued when she remained silent, "Regardless of species, regardless of kingdom, regardless of personal viewpoints. And I believe Mr. Arc deserves to understand the full scope of that threat."
Blake's posture shifted slightly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, "I'll tell him," she finally said, "I'll let Jaune know that you want to speak with him. But I can't promise anything beyond that. It's his decision."
"That's all I ask," Ozpin said with a nod, "Thank you."
As Blake rose to leave, Ozpin found himself hoping that Arc would agree to the meeting. Not just for the sake of his ancient conflict with Salem, but because he genuinely believed the young Faunus deserved to know what he was potentially walking into. The world was changing rapidly, and Arc was at the center of that change.
Knowledge was power, but it was also protection. And in the coming days, Jaune Arc would need all the protection he could get.
Blake paused at the door, "Professor?"
"Yes, Ms. Belladonna?"
"Jaune isn't naive. He knows everyone wants something from him." Her amber eyes were steady as she looked back at him. "If you're not honest with him, he'll know. And I won't help you reach him a second time."
With that, she slipped out of the office, leaving Ozpin alone with his thoughts. He sighed and finished off the last of his sweet drink. The girl was right, of course. He would need to be more forthcoming with Arc than he typically was with potential allies. The young man's unique abilities and position made the usual half-truths and manipulations too risky. If he failed in this chance, then Jaune Arc's miraculous abilities would be forever lost.
The question was: how much of the truth could he safely share? The burden of knowledge had crushed many promising allies over the centuries. And yet, withholding too much might alienate potentially their most valuable asset in generations.
All he could do now was wait and hope that Arc would agree to meet. The rest would unfold as it always did – move by move, piece by piece, in a game where the stakes were nothing less than the future of every man, woman, and child on Remnant.
[line break]
Uh-oh. Just three months and tension is already flaring. James is caught with the council and Jacques pressuring him, the White Fang are pissed, Leonardo's almost sympathetic, and Ozpin just wants the Salem problem dealt with without a care for the geopolitics. Meanwhile, Blake and the non-terrorist Faunus are making out like bandits.
Comments
Manuel amores morales
Me gusta que aquí le dan una explicación más profunda sobre la traición de León que ser cobarde
Thelurker12
Like Leo says, why the fuck would he ever be expected to be loyal to a kingdom that chose THESE assholes as their representatives?
Shorter than joe Mama
Damn. All it took was having dog ears for everything to get worse. Also holy shit the Lionheart section was well done I actually felt oppressed and resentful just READING it. Makes me actually feel bad for Leo...
