Chapter Text
Jaune Arc was dead, well dying at the very least, his aura was broken and he knew losing this much blood wasn't really healthy, but he was for some reason just not bothered by it, maybe it was the fact that he died for his friends while saving the world like so many characters had done in his comics and games.
Sure they might get a sad about it but it was fine, he was the weakest member of the team anyways, if it wasn't Salem it would have been a grimm or a bandit that killed him while he did his job.
He squeezed the hand that he was holding, someone had grabbed it and while he couldn't quite see them, all the pink told him it must be Nora, she must be trying to say something but the ringing in his ears can't really let him hear her, shame he would love to answer and reassure her it was fine.
The pink blob wasn't the only blob, there where two green blobs one trying to keep his blood inside him, Ren he noted, and another one above it, Oscar, or was it Ozpin? Didn't matter they were one and the same by now, there was also a red blob, Ruby, who was moving a lot in one place and alongside it a blue blob, Weiss, further back he could see both a purple and brown with yellow blob, Blake and Yang, since they were all here he thought it was safe to assume they had succeeded.
Salem was dead and wasn't that just so weird? For who knows how long (well Ozpin may know) Salem and her Grimm had terrorized the world, and now she was dead.
The grimm weren't completely gone but they would never recover, it was done they had won, killed the immortal witch trying to destroy the world and saved the day, and he was a part of it, his younger self would just be jumping in excitement at the knowledge he had been part of the hero group that saved the world on top of being the Rusted Knight.
He had a few regrets here and there, he never really had girlfriend which sucked, and he had never quite gotten the chance to reconnect with the rest of his family, and of course Pyrrha and Penny two people that had died because of him, but like most other things it didn't matter now, he was dying with very little chance at changing his fate, and soon he would join everyone who had been lost through this little adventure.
He looked at the colorful blobs again, and whished his eyes weren't in such a state, that the ringing in his ears stopped so he could hear them, that the air he was breathing didn't feel so little compared to what he actually needed to talk.
So he limited himself to trying to smile, or do what he thought was a smile, he couldn't really tell anymore what was happening with his body.
And once that was done he chose to close his eyes and take a really deep breath, a breath he never released for he felt he didn't have lungs anymore.
Jaune Arc is dead, at least he knows he is meant to be, so why does he feel, feel anything at all? The dead don't feel, at least that's what is meant to be, but for some reason he feels small, it's as if he was covered in something, and for some reason he can hear weird voice, he can't understand it, but it sounds comforting.
And so unknown to Jaune Arc he as been reborn