The shift was still quite interesting to Jaune—the difference between the eternal darkness of the dilapidated city and this sterile expanse of reinforced walls, cables, and terminals buzzing with faint light.
They were back.
No one spoke at first. The patrol had ended without any further encounters, the Alpha Beowolf was their last fight of the night. Jaune had half expected another ambush, something waiting in the wings, but Ren had explained with certainty that it wasn't likely. The Alpha was a remnant, clinging to the edges of what had once been a Nightmare Zone. When those were cleared, scraps tended to remain. Creatures like this, were certainly dangerous but they were mostly isolated.
Jaune had filed the thought away. Another bit of knowledge about how this strange dream-logic world worked.
The numbers, however, were far more immediate.
He now had 74 rune fragments.
He'd looked over the amount, twice already, and both times, the total made his chest thrum. Combined with what he'd gathered before, it was enough to push his Body stat to 7. That alone had his pulse racing—strength, speed, endurance, all surging vastly past the boundaries of normal human limits. Another layer of muscle, of force, of survival.
Oscar had fared even better. The boy had managed to nearly double what Jaune had collected during the swarm. He even had enough to enhance his own stats mid-fight. Jaune was glad for him, though he noticed that Oscar still seemed a quieter than usual. Maybe that was just exhaustion. Or maybe it was the Alpha's crimson Rune skill, its jaws snapping with the weight of inevitability, that had shaken him.
And Nora—well, Nora had been apologizing for the last ten minutes.
"Really, I didn't mean to! It just kinda… went boom! And then everything was gone."
She mimed the shockwave with her hands, then wilted a little when Oscar smiled politely but said nothing.
Jaune clapped her on the back with a laugh. "Don't sweat it, Nora. You saved us a hell of a lot of work." He added quickly when she turned her wide eyes on him, still worried. "Seriously. I don't think either of us wanted to deal with twenty more of those things. You basically cleared the board."
Oscar nodded after a pause. "It's true. Your attack was… effective."
That seemed to appease her, and she returned to her usual bounce, though Jaune caught the way Ren gave the faintest of smiles as they walked.
Together, they passed through security and checked into the main terminal hub, just inside the outer perimeter.
The terminals had holo-screens that projected areas of Nightmare Zones and teams currently in mission.
Ren moved to one of them and keyed in a code, his fingers a blur across the keypad. Jaune was starting to get into the groove of it now—team status updates, mission completion, tallies. Everything had to be logged and accounted for. LUCID was nothing if not thorough.
They stood in a loose line behind him as he typed, waiting. Jaune let his gaze wander.
There were others here tonight.
A small cluster of students from Beacon loitered near another briefing station, their Rune Frames were faintly scuffed up from their fights today. A few wore expressions of exhaustion, and others whispered together in low tones.
Two figures stood out immediately.
The first was hard to miss: tall, broad-shouldered, stocky in a way that made him look like he'd been built for football rather than the bizarre dream wars they were trapped in. His face was half-shadowed by the massive war-mace he slung across his shoulder, but Jaune recognized him anyway.
Sardine.
He was fairly sure that was the name.
Or was it Cartin? No—Cardin, yeah. Last week, Jaune had seen him paired with Blake Belladonna during chemistry. A memory flickered of Cardin demeanor and Blake's unimpressed words shutting him down flat.
Now the boy was standing straighter and more serious for once, delivering his report directly to Glynda Goodwitch. The woman's stern profile didn't waver as she listened, typing into her holo-tablet, her glasses reflecting the screen's glow.
Next to Cardin stood another familiar face.
Ren's chemistry partner.
Jaune's brows drew together as he studied them, trying to recall their name. Skye? Jaune wasn't sure. He'd only caught a glimpse during class, when partners were assigned, and yet here they were, part of this same hidden war.
It was… jarring.
When Jaune had first stumbled into all of this, he'd assumed it was limited—an unlucky handful of people caught in something bigger than themselves. But every new face he recognized here, was another reminder that the circle was apparently wider than he'd thought. That there were more of them walking this double life, balancing grades and teachers by day, and nightmare hunts by night.
He hummed under his breath, shaking the thought off. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything.
The hum of voices carried faintly across the space. Jaune caught a snippet of Cardin's report, something about Grimm density, weirdly increasing in his patrol sector. Ren finished inputting their own status and stepped back, brushing a strand of hair from his face.
.
[PATROL ZONE C-14 CLEARED. REWARD DISTRIBUTED]
[TEAM STATUS: COMPLETE]
.
"Let's go," Ren said simply, and the four of them turned to leave.
As they passed through the rows of terminals, Jaune felt eyes on him.
He glanced sideways just in time to catch it—Cardin's gaze flicking toward him. Not measuring exactly, more-so curious.
Jaune straightened reflexively, but before he could decide whether to nod or ignore it, the stocky boy looked away, turning back to Glynda without a word. His other three teammates didn't even spare Jaune a glance.
The moment passed, quiet as it came, and Jaune exhaled.
Not worth thinking about.
The four of them slipped away into the corridor beyond, their boots echoing on the metal floor. Behind them, the operations room buzzed on, more students filing in and out, more reports, more quiet exchanges.
LUCID never slept.
Ren was the first to break the quiet. "That concludes our patrol," His words carried finality, like a line drawn across the night. "Good work, guys."
Nora stretched her arms above her head with a yawn, a faint shimmer of electricity sparked across her forearm before fading away. "Mmmh… I could eat like… three stacks of pancakes. With strawberries. And whipped cream. And chocolate chips."
Oscar gave her a small, tired smile. "I think you'd need to raid the entire cafeteria for that."
"Don't tempt me," Nora shot back with mock severity, then laughed, shaking off her exhaustion in her usual explosive way.
Jaune found himself grinning despite the weight of the night. This, too, was part of it—the strange camaraderie that came after danger. That thin thread of warmth reminding you that you weren't alone.
But even warmth had its limits. Especially here.
Ren slowed, then turned to the others. His posture never wavered, but his eyes softened ever so slightly as he looked at each of them. "We've done enough tonight. Rest well. We'll regroup soon."
"Yeah," Jaune said, nodding. "See you later."
Oscar dipped his head politely. "Goodnight." His tone was soft, respectful, but Jaune could see the fatigue beneath it. The younger boy still carried himself like something was out of place, caught between obligation and inexperience. Yet tonight, he had fought. That mattered, Jaune supposed.
Nora gave a two-fingered salute. "Later, Jauney! Sleepy tight and don't let the bed-Grimm bite."
Jaune chuckled, raising a hand in return. "Same to you, Nora."
One by one, they each triggered their dream authority exit, granted by the system.
Ren was first—his form dissolved and vanished. Nora followed a second later, and with a bounce, she waved and vanished.
Oscar lingered a moment longer, meeting Jaune's eyes as if to say something more. But in the end, he simply nodded once and was gone.
Jaune stood alone in the middle of the floor, his breath echoing faintly. The spot where his team had been was empty now, the dream-space erasing all traces of their presence.
Seeing how others vanished using the authority was quite interesting, but... that wasn't the main forefront on his mind.
He clenched his fist.
Today had been… illuminating.
He had known, that Rank 1s were stronger than him. That anyone who had survived this long had to have pushed themselves past normal human limits. But knowing was one thing—constantly seeing it was another.
Ren had moved with effortless efficiency, every strike measured and precise. Neither flashy, nor overwhelming, like a river carving its way through stone. Seeing him in action had been like watching a machine designed for survival, honed by discipline.
And Nora…
Jaune's mind replayed the moment of her lightning shockwave, the way the ground itself had cratered outward, every Beowolf within range turned instantly to ash. The sheer scale of it made his chest tighten. It hadn't even seemed hard for her. A swing, a spark, and then devastation.
That was Rank 1. That was the ceiling—or maybe the floor—of the kind of power available in this world.
He wasn't afraid of it. Not exactly. If anything, it lit a fire in his gut. Because if she could do that, then what was stopping him?
All he had to do was put in the work. Train. Hunt. Grind. Milk LUCID for everything it could give him.
His Rune fragments pulsed at his call, the invisible currency of their strange war. With a thought, he funneled them into his body stat.
The response was immediate.
A surge of power rushed through him, like a tide sweeping across a shoreline. His muscles tightened, fibers knitting stronger, denser. His breath came easier, deeper. His senses sharpened, vision clearer, every sound around him ringing with faint detail. His skin prickled as if the very air recognized the change.
It was intoxicating.
Body: 7.
The number echoed in his mind, sharp and final.
Jaune rolled his shoulders, testing it. The movement was smooth, controlled, but underneath it was a coiled potential that hadn't been there before. A promise of speed, of strength, of sheer physical dominance.
And yet…
His lips thinned.
To reach 10, he would need to kill twenty-seven more Grimm. Twenty-seven. And that was just one stat.
He sighed, the sound echoed heavy in the empty chamber. His other stats remained untouched, still sitting stubbornly at zero. No Will, no Aura, no anything. He was unbalanced, a brute force specialist in the making.
.
.
[Jaune Arc]
[Rank: 0]
.
Aura: 0
Will: 0
Body: 7
.
Runes: 4
.
.
But not for long.
The grind was eternal.
He flexed his hand again, staring at the faint shimmer of his dream-body's outline. Stronger, yes. But not enough. Never enough.
The thought should have been discouraging. Instead, Jaune felt something stir in his chest—an ember of stubborn resolve.
Because every step forward mattered. Every kill, every fragment, every sleepless night. The path might be endless, but it was his path.
He could see it now, clearer than before. Ren's control. Nora's raw force. Oscar's... quiet determination? Each of them showed him pieces of what was possible. Pieces of what he could be.
All he had to do was keep going.
Keep fighting.
Keep grinding.
Jaune exhaled slowly, then looked up at the exit light above. His body still hummed with the aftershocks of his upgrade, a quiet thrum beneath his skin.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "One step at a time."
With that, he willed the exit authority to take him away.
His form unraveled, and the dream fell away.