Jaune the Imperishable or how Settra got his Golden Body (RWBY/Warhammer Fantasy) ch.10

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Jaune groaned as his eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of the room piercing through his lids. His body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of rampaging cows, every muscle aching, his head pounding with a dull, relentless thrum. He blinked a few times, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The sterile white walls, the faint hum of machinery, and the soft beeping of a heart monitor told him everything he needed to know.

He shifted, attempting to sit up, but his body protested immediately, sending a wave of exhaustion crashing over him. He sank back into the bed with a groan, his mind racing to piece together the last thing he remembered. The forest, Pyrrha activating his aura and then...nothing.

He turned his head slowly, his eyes catching movement at the foot of the bed. His breath hitched as he saw her, Pyrrha. She was sitting on a chair pulled close to the bed, head rested on the edge of his bed, her fiery red hair spilling over her arms like a cascade of flames. She looked peaceful, her breathing slow and steady though the faint lines of worry etched into her face betrayed the strain of the last few hours or days, Jaune did not know. 

All this was not exactly telling him what happened. 

Save for one. 

​Settra? 

"Well well. Looks like you have awoken," the Great King rumbled, sounding far too happy than last Jaune remembered. There was a tilt to it that had not been there before. "I trust you enjoyed your slumber?" 

Jaune groaned, both in frustration and pain. Settra, what the hell happened?

There was a pause, and Jaune could almost feel the Great King's satisfaction radiating like the sun. "After your companion unleashed your aura, the bond between our souls shifted. You see, your body, pathetic as it is, could not handle the strain of my presence combined with the surge of your aura. So, naturally, fate chose the only solution that made sense."

Jaune frowned, his stomach sinking. What are you saying?

"Our souls switched," Settra declared, and Jaune could practically hear the grin in his voice. "I assumed control of that pigsty shack you call a body."

Jaune's eyes widened, his heart racing. You what?!

"Do not shout, Jaune of Arc. It is unbecoming," Settra said dismissively. "Yes, I took control. And might I add, I handled things far better than you ever could. The battle was won, the forest was cleansed, and your allies were left in awe of Settra."

Jaune's face turned pale as his thoughts raced. Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me you were me? You were walking around in my body? Talking to everyone? Doing things? Tell me you didn't do anything embarrassing!

Settra's scoff was audible. "Settra does not do embarrassing things," he said, his tone laced with disdain. "I am Settra the Imperishable. Everything I do is with the utmost dignity and purpose. Embarrassment is beneath me."

Jaune wasn't convinced. Yeah, but my body isn't beneath you, apparently! What if you said something weird? Or acted...I don't know, Settra-y? What if you made me look like a complete idiot?

"As if you need my assistance to look like a complete idiot," Settra replied coolly, "I elevated your image. You should be thanking me. Your companions now believe you to be a warrior of unmatched conviction and divine purpose."

Jaune's jaw dropped. What does that even mean?! What did you do?

Settra chuckled, a deep and resonant sound that sent chills down Jaune's spine. "Ah, yes. The culmination of my brief foray into this world," he began, his tone almost reverent. "After dispatching the lesser beasts that dared to challenge me, I did what any true king would do. I purified the entire forest in the name of Ptra."

Jaune blinked. You...purified the forest?

"Indeed," Settra said proudly. "The lesser creatures that roam this land, they reeked of evil and darkness. Both offends mighty Ptra. Thus, I summoned His divine power through the vessel of your aura and cleansed the land of their taint. The forest now stands as a testament to Ptra's glory, a beacon of light and purity."

Jaune's mouth opened and closed several times, struggling to find words. And when it did, it was faint. How am I supposed to explain this? Jaune despaired. 

"You don't," Settra said, his tone brooking no argument. "Lean into it, mortal. Do not squander it with your incessant whining."

But how the hell am I going to do the same exact things as you did!? Jaune yelled in his mind. 

Settra's laughter echoed in Jaune's mind, openly condescending. "You? Replicate my greatness? Foolish Jaune of Arc, do not insult me. You could not hope to wield the power of Settra the Imperishable, even if you had a thousand lifetimes to try."

Jaune groaned again, burying his face in his hands. ​So what am I supposed to do then? They're going to expect me to perform miracles now!

"As I told you before, by being a good student and learn," Settra boomed. "Greatness is with you, boy. Learn from me." 

Before Jaune could respond, a soft voice broke through the haze of his thoughts. "Jaune?"

He turned his head to see Pyrrha stirring awake, her emerald eyes blinking groggily as she sat up in her chair. When their gazes met, her face lit up with a bright, relieved smile. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, standing quickly and moving closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Take care of this poor girl, boy. She is a warrior, an Amazon, and my Chosen," Settra rumbled into Jaune's head. "Do not, and ever dare, to break her spirit." 

Jaune hesitated, his mind still buzzing with Settra's words. "Uh...I'm okay. Just...tired."

Pyrrha smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's to be expected. You overexerted yourself out there, but you were amazing, Jaune. Truly."

Jaune winced, feeling a pang of guilt. Was I amazing, or was it just Settra?

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, trying to force a smile. "I guess I just got caught up in everything."

"Well, we clearly need to let you get passionate, because you were just..." Pyrrha struggled to find the right words, but the sheer excitement in her eyes was palpable. "You summoned this...light. It was unlike anything I've ever seen. I felt like I could take on the world. What was that? Your semblance?" 

"Yeah...." Jaune coughed, and replied with utter confidence. "That's my semblance, alright. Yup." 

Pyrrha's eyes widened in admiration, her excitement barely contained. "I knew you had potential, but this...this is incredible!" She reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, her touch warm and reassuring. "You're going to do great things, Jaune. I can feel it."

Jaune felt his face flush under her gaze, the weight of her words pressing down on him. Great things? He couldn't even wrap his head around what had just happened, let alone live up to the expectations everyone seemed to have now. Settra's meddling had left him in a mess he wasn't sure he could clean up.

"Yeah," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Great things."

Pyrrha tilted her head, concern flickering across her face. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem...distracted."

Before Jaune could respond, Settra's voice boomed in his mind with the subtlety of a thunderclap. "Compose yourself, boy! Do not falter in the presence of your Chosen. Weakness is unbecoming of a king."

Jaune gritted his teeth, exhaling through his nose. Not helping, Settra.

"Sorry, Pyrrha," he said, forcing a half-smile. "I guess I'm just...still processing everything. You know, the fight, the aura stuff...it's a lot."

She nodded sympathetically. "Of course. Take all the time you need. We'll be here for you." Her voice was steady, carrying a warmth that made Jaune's chest tighten. "You don't have to face this alone, Jaune. You have me."

Jaune's guilt deepened at her words. If only she knew that it wasn't him she was praising. It was Settra.

"Stop wallowing in self-pity," Settra interrupted, his tone sharp. "You are Jaune of Arc, host to the greatness that is Settra the Imperishable. Accept your role and rise to the occasion. Or are you content to remain a sniveling fool?"

Jaune clenched his fists under the blanket, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to snap back at Settra, but Pyrrha's gentle expression kept him in check. Instead, he sighed and nodded. "Thanks, Pyrrha. That...means a lot."

She smiled again, her confidence in him unwavering. "Good. Rest up, okay? I'll let the others know you're awake." She stood, her movements fluid and graceful, and started toward the door.

Jaune's heart sank as he remembered what had brought him here in the first place. "Wait, Pyrrha."

She paused, turning back to him with a curious look. "Yes?"

He hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. How am I supposed to tell her not to tell the others? Settra's voice echoed ominously in his mind.

"Do not cower. Speak with authority. The Chosen will understand."

Jaune ignored him, fumbling for a way to sound natural. "Uh...maybe don't tell everyone yet? I mean, I appreciate it, but I think I need a little more time before...you know, facing the crowd."

Pyrrha studied him for a moment, then nodded. "If that's what you want, I'll keep it between us for now." She offered him a reassuring smile. "But don't wait too long. Everyone's eager to see you."

"Thanks," Jaune said, relief washing over him. "I owe you one."

Her smile turned playful. "You owe me a sparring match when you're back on your feet."

Jaune chuckled weakly. "Deal."

As Pyrrha slipped out of the room, Jaune let his head fall back against the pillow with a groan. His mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and frustration. How was he supposed to keep up this charade? What if someone asked him to do something Settra had done? What if he slipped up and revealed the truth?

"Worry not, Jaune of Arc," Settra rumbled confidently. "You have me to guide you. Together, we shall forge a legacy that will be remembered for millennia."

Jaune sighed, staring up at the sterile white ceiling. "Yeah, great. That's what I'm afraid of."

Not a second later, the door opened. And Jaune's heart sank as the sound of a cane clinking againt the floor echoed in his ears. Professor Ozpin stepped into the room, his presence calm yet commanding. His piercing, knowing gaze swept over the room briefly before settling on Jaune. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it did little to ease the weight in Jaune's chest.

"Ah, Mister Arc," Ozpin said, his voice as smooth and curious. "I see you're awake. That's good."

Jaune swallowed hard, trying to sit up straighter in the bed, even as his body protested. Something about how Ozpin was looking at him felt like he was under a microscope, and now more than ever, he felt exposed. 

Pyrrha stood as soon as Ozpin entered, bowing her head slightly. "Professor," she greeted respectfully.

Ozpin returned the gesture with a slight nod. "Miss Nikos, I trust you've been keeping watch over our young knight here?"

"Of course," Pyrrha replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "He's been through a lot, but he's strong. I'm sure he'll recover quickly."

Ozpin's eyes flicked back to Jaune, his expression unreadable. "I have no doubt." He paused, then gestured lightly toward the door. "If you wouldn't mind, Miss Nikos, I'd like to speak with Mister Arc alone."

Pyrrha blinked, glancing between Jaune and Ozpin as if debating whether to argue. "Oh," she said finally, her hesitation clear. "Of course, Professor." She turned to Jaune, offering him one last encouraging smile. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."

Jaune nodded weakly. "Thanks, Pyrrha."

As the door clicked shut behind her, the room grew heavier. Ozpin stood silently for a moment, his cane resting lightly in his hand, his gaze fixed on Jaune with an intensity that made Jaune's palms sweat. He shifted uncomfortably under the blankets, trying not to meet the older man's eyes.

"So," Ozpin began, breaking the silence, "how are you feeling, Mister Arc?"

"Uh...tired," Jaune admitted, his voice hoarse. "Sore. Confused." He looked up hesitantly. "I guess that's normal after...everything?"

Ozpin hummed softly, stepping closer to the bed. "Yes, I imagine you have quite a few questions. And, perhaps, a few answers you'd like to share."

Jaune froze, his heart skipping a beat. Did he know? His thoughts scrambled for an explanation, for anything that might make sense of the situation without revealing the truth.

"I...I don't know what you mean," Jaune stammered, forcing a nervous laugh. "I don't really remember much. It's all kind of a blur, honestly."

Ozpin tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "Is that so?" He leaned slightly on his cane, his tone gentle but probing. "From what Miss Nikos and the others have told me, and from what footage we could recover, your performance in the forest was more than extraordinary and that is coming from the Headmaster of Beacon."

Jaune flinched, his cheeks burning. "I...I guess I got lucky. Maybe adrenaline or something?"

Ozpin's faint smile returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Perhaps. But adrenaline is not enough to make the forest impassable to Grimm."

Impassable? Jaune's mouth went dry. 

Jaune's heart raced as Ozpin reached into his coat and pulled out his scroll. The headmaster flicked it open with a practiced motion, tapping a few times before turning the screen toward Jaune. "This was taken just a scant few minutes ago," Ozpin said, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.

The camera focused on a lone Beowolf prowling at the tree line. The creature sniffed the air cautiously before stepping forward. The moment its paw crossed into the forest, golden light erupted from the ground like a bolt of divine lightning, striking the Grimm with such force that it disintegrated instantly, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer in the air.

Jaune's breath hitched. Ozpin lowered the scroll, his piercing gaze locking onto Jaune. "Fascinating, wouldn't you agree?"

Jaune opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His mind raced, trying to piece together a coherent explanation. He could feel Settra's presence looming, almost smug, as if daring Jaune to reveal the truth. 

"I..." Jaune stammered, his throat dry. "I don't know what to say, Professor. I don't...I don't even know how it happened."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow, his fingers tapping lightly against his cane. "Abilities that can purify and repel Grimm...It's almost reminiscent of ancient tales of divine intervention." His gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Mister Arc, do you believe in destiny?"

Jaune blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh...I don't know," he admitted.

Ozpin studied him closely, his silence stretching longer than Jaune was comfortable with. It felt like the headmaster could see right through him, peeling back every layer of his flimsy lies. Finally, Ozpin straightened, his expression softening ever so slightly. "I see," he said, though his tone suggested he didn't entirely believe Jaune. "Well, whatever the cause, it seems you've tapped into something remarkable. I would encourage you to reflect on it, Mister Arc. Understanding the source of your strength will be vital as you continue your journey."

Jaune nodded quickly, eager to end the conversation. "Yeah. Of course. I'll...think about it."

Ozpin's faint smile returned, this time with a hint of amusement. "Good. I'll leave you to rest, then." He turned toward the door but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and Jaune?"

"Y-yeah?"

"I've found that power, when granted suddenly, often comes with...unexpected consequences. Be mindful of that as you move forward." His gaze lingered for a moment, heavy with unspoken meaning, before he stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Jaune let out a shaky breath, slumping back against the pillow. His mind raced, replaying every word of the conversation. Did Ozpin know something? Was he testing him? Or was Jaune just being paranoid?

"The man is shrewd," Settra's voice rumbled in his mind, cutting through his thoughts. "He sees more than he lets on. You would do well to tread carefully around him."

"Yeah," Jaune muttered under his breath, his hands trembling slightly. "No kidding."

​And then, the door opened, again, and a high scream reached the air. 

"JAUNNNNNNNNNNNNE!" 

"Ruby! Wait...wait...HAGETAWETETE"

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As Professor Ozpin stepped out of the infirmary, he paused in the hallway, his hand lingering on his cane. The soft murmur of voices filtered through the walls. Arc's comrades filtered in as soon as he came, their voices a mixture of excitement and relief, no doubt eager to see their friend once again. 

Speaking strictly, they all failed on a technicality. Instead of retreating from the forest after recovering the artefacts, they all decided it was a great idea to fight the Grimm. And by fight, utterly extinguish all the Grimm there that he might have to declare the region safe for travel until eventually, their numbers recovered. While that wasn't their mission, Ozpin was willing to overlook that, and clear them entrance to Beacon anyway because honestly, it was well deserved. 

But Ozpin had other things in his mind. 

Something divine has been sent to Remnant.

He felt it when he and the other faculty descended into the forest. The trees, the land, it was thick of the stuff. Divine, and magical. Even now, Oobleck was busy cataloguing every single thing he could in the forest. Ozpin's hand tightened slightly on his cane, the polished wood cool under his fingers. Was it the God of Light? Were the Gods finally doing something, anything? The questions churned in his mind like a storm, but no answers came. The Gods had left Remnant long ago, abandoning humanity to its fate. And yet...could this be their way of intervening? A sign, perhaps, that they had not entirely forsaken the world?

He allowed himself a small sigh, his thoughts drifting to the combat footage he had watched earlier. The Jaune Arc in the forest was not the same Jaune Arc who now lay in the infirmary. The boy who had stammered and fidgeted beneath Ozpin's gaze was worlds apart from the warrior who had purified the forest with a single gesture.

That Jaune, Ozpin thought, was confident. Commanding. As if he were someone else entirely.

Ozpin's mind drifted to the fairy tales of his youth, to the ancient legends of heroes blessed by the divine or cursed by forces beyond their control. He searched his memory for a story, a fable, anything that might provide a clue. But nothing came to him. No tale spoke of a power that could purify Grimm so completely, nor of a mortal suddenly imbued with such overwhelming radiance.

He would keep a close eye on Jaune Arc. Whatever had awakened in the boy, whatever force had taken root within him, it was unlike anything Ozpin had ever seen. And though he did not yet know its purpose, he knew one thing for certain:

This power, whatever it is, could change everything.

With that thought weighing heavily on his mind, Ozpin adjusted his grip on his cane and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing softly as he disappeared down the hall.

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A/N: Jaune is now going to find out what exactly does it mean to measure up to the Imperishable.