Jaune blinked, disoriented, as his eyes adjusted. He had expected the claustrophobic tal walls of a pod and the quiet hum of the base, or maybe even a dilapidated location that was manned by operatives. Instead, he found himself standing on tal flooring that had a soft glow radiating outward in a perfect circle around him—about ten ters across. It was inlaid with faintly glowing lines, geotrically humming with an energy that made the air itself feel slightly charged. Like electricity, but Jaune knew that electricity didn't function within the dream realm. It was Runic energy.
He wasn't in a pod nor was he in the sa kind of environnt as before.
As Jaune turned slowly, he realized he was in so sort of military shelter—or rather, a hub of sorts. The walls curved up into a do overhead, reinforced plating etched with rune energy channels that pulsed like veins of light. Holo-terminals projected translucent maps of Vale and tactical overlays into the air. Uniford personnel walked briskly between stations, carrying equipnt or tapping at holo-tablets.
'This… this isn't anything like how I expected. It seems that the LUCID base in the dream is a lot more different from what I was expecting.'
It wasn't just the sheer scale of technology—it was the way everything seed too advanced. Even in the waking world, LUCID's hidden base had cutting-edge tech that was far beyond public use, but here, it felt like the rules of possibility had been bent even further.
What truly stood out was how few of the personnel actually wore Rune Fras. Jaune had expected the sa armored exosuits he'd seen on operatives in the waking world, bristling with channels. Instead, most of these people looked like scientists or staff. Only a few handfuls bore Rune Fras, their presence striking by contrast as they strode with silent authority.
'So these are the non-combat staff?' Jaune thought. 'But how does that even work? They're… here. In the Dream. I thought only Awakened could do that. Goodwitch was right when she said that I truly had a lot more to learn when it ca to Dream knowledge. It feels like I'm only scratching the surface here.'
Before he could spiral deeper into the question, light shimred behind him. He whirled around just in ti to see three shapes fading into view, their silhouettes gradually solidifying like afterimages being filled in.
Ren, Nora, and Oscar.
Jaune flinched slightly despite knowing they'd appear, the quiet glow was uncanny, like watching people being painted into existence stroke by stroke. Nora, of course, noticed his reaction first.
"Spooked ya, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Not used to the 'materializing out of thin air' thing yet?"
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "Just wasn't expecting you to—uh—fade in behind like that."
Nora stepped past him and spread her arms wide, motioning to the space around them. "Sooo? What do you think? Pretty cool, right?"
"Cool?" Jaune echoed. He turned in a slow circle again. "This… this isn't what I was expecting at all. I thought the Dream was supposed to be—y'know, broken. Twisted. Not… this."
Oscar, adjusting his weapons, gave a knowing half-smile. "That's the usual reaction."
Still unsettled, Jaune looked up at the dod ceiling and then back to the bustle of personnel. "Wait. Are we still underground, like in the real world's base? Or… is this sowhere else?"
Ren finally stepped forward, calm as always, hands tucked into his pockets. "No. This location isn't beneath the surface. The spawn point here is tied to above-ground coordinates."
That only made Jaune frown harder. "Then… why does this place look—well, intact? In the Dream, isn't everything supposed to be falling apart? Like so kind of nightmare apocalypse."
Ren paused, folding his arms as if considering how best to phrase it. "That's because of two things. First—the influence of one of our Relic's, the Great Rune of Creation."
"Creation..." Jaune repeated, lowering his voice instinctively.
Ren inclined his head. "As you know, there are four of them, and each of them have the ability to bend the rules of the dream and exert influence upon this world, far beyond what normal Runes are capable of. Master Runes, included, which are wielded by Rank 3's. In any case, Creation's influence is what allows a sanctuary like this to exist without collapsing into ruin."
Nora added, bouncing on her toes, "It's like a cheat code! Instead of everything turning into creepy ruins with monsters crawling around, you get safe zones where people can actually build stuff."
Jaune blinked. "And the second reason?"
Ren's gaze was steady. "Because of the way the Dream itself functions. You've probably already noticed how damage to the surroundings in the dream tends to fix itself overti, correct?"
Jaune nodded. "Yeah. The night I first fought against a boarbatusk, it kinda destroyed half my house and a couple of cars, too. Later when I went to check on the damage, it had... repaired itself sohow. And at the train station, when I fought against a bunch of grimm, then ca back the next night, the damage to the surroundings were also gone."
Ren agreed quietly. "Pretty much. Essentially, the Dream's repair function works similar to an observer effect. An area which isn't observed will go back to its state that reflects reality, albeit all screwed up."
Jaune cupped his chin in thought.
Ren continued. "You've heard of the Schrodinger cat theory of quantum chanics, right?"
"No. What's that?"
"Essentially, it's a thought experint. Imagine a cat inside a box, with a vial of poison that may or may not break. Until you open the box, you don't actually know if the cat is alive or dead. Both states exist at the sa ti—alive and dead—until it's observed."
Jaune frowned. "...That's ssed up. Who puts a cat in a box with poison?"
Nora leaned in, wide-eyed. "Schrodinger, apparently. Crazy cat man."
Ren gave a faint sigh, but a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "The point is, observation changes the state of things. The Dream works on a similar principle. If no one is there to 'watch' or interact with a place, the area reverts into that twisted reflection of reality, after a certain period of ti. But if an awakened is present, it stabilizes—becos sothing constant and sothing you can almost permanently affect and move through."
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "So... the Dream is like one giant cat box?"
"Exactly," Ren said calmly. "Except instead of a cat, it's entire streets and buildings. And instead of poison... it's Nightmare creatures."
Nora clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Jaune! You're officially a cat-watcher now."
Jaune groaned. "That makes sound like a creep."
Ren, unfazed, finished his explanation. "The important part is: nothing inside the Dream is ever truly fixed. It only stays the way you rember it while you're there. Once you leave... the box closes again. Which ties into the Rune of Creation. It makes this place permanent. There is a zone radius, however."
Ren gestured subtly toward a corridor that led out of the chamber. "You'll understand more once you see it. For now, follow us. There are still many things you have to learn about the Dream. And the best place to start…" His eyes narrowed slightly, though not unkindly. "Is Beacon itself."
The words made Jaune's stomach tighten. Dream-Beacon. A version of the school that existed here.
Nora clapped her hands together, grinning like a child about to reveal a surprise. "C'mon, Jaune. Ti for the grand tour!"
They set off together, weaving between LUCID personnel who gave curt nods as the group passed. Jaune caught fragnts of conversation—terms he didn't understand, numbers scrolling on floating screens, ntions of "Resonance levels" and "stabilization ratios." None of it made sense yet, but all of it hinted at sothing massive happening behind the scenes.
The corridor ended in a shimring threshold of light. Together, they stepped through—
—and Jaune froze.
The world beyond wasn't Beacon at all, not the one he rembered. Towering fortifications stretched in every direction, their surfaces gleaming with channels. Floodlights swept the grounds, and the distant thrum of engines echoed through the air. Operatives walked around and armored figures in rune fras patrolled the periter. Jaune could even spy so strange machines he couldn't even na rolling across reinforced platforms.
It wasn't a school. It was a fortress. A bastion carved into the Dream.
Jaune's voice slipped out in a whisper. "Holy crap."
Ren's reply was steady, simple. "Welco to Beacon."
The air outside the do tasted different, charged with that sa Runic ozone-like hum. When Jaune stepped past the shimring threshold with Ren, Nora, and Oscar at his side, he swore he could feel it on his tongue.
The world opened up into sothing vast.
Beacon—at least this version—wasn't just a school anymore. It was a fortress. Towering walls encircled the grounds, reinforced with steel plating and etched with glowing circuits of Rune-tech that pulsed in slow, rhythms. Mounted along the battlents were hulking automated turrets, sleek things of alloy and runic glass, their barrels humming faintly as they tracked unseen threats. In between them were manual stations—exposed weapon nests where personnel stood ready behind rune-stabilized cannons that looked like the offspring of a ballista and a machine gun.
And above it all, shimring faintly like a second horizon, was the boundary.
Jaune could see it now—the exact line Ren had described. A perfect circle spread outward from the fortress. Inside its periter, the world was intact, pristine and militarized. But the mont his eyes drifted past that line, the Dream's influence reasserted itself.
Crumbling skyscrapers and streets cracked open like wounds. Shattered windows, collapsed bridges and husks of cars left frozen, in eternal gridlock.
And worse than that, he could see the difference. Within the protected zone, the air seed to shimr faintly—Creation's influence kept the Dream stable. Beyond it… everything was decayed, twitching at the edges like a half-rendered nightmare.
Operatives patrolled even that hostile space. Jaune spotted their silhouettes darting across half-toppled rooftops and crumbling apartnt balconies. Others prowled ground-level streets, weapons ready. But they were few, scattered—like raindrops swallowed by an endless ocean of ruins.
"...Holy crap," Jaune whispered.
Nora grinned, nudging his shoulder. "Told you the grand tour would blow your socks off."
Oscar's expression was more subdued as he glanced toward the boundary. "And this is just the inside."
Ren, as ever, was calm and collected, though his eyes lingered on the distant operatives. "Beacon's base is the largest sanctuary in all of the Kingdom of Vale. Without the Great Rune of Creation, places like these wouldn't exist. Not like this, at least."
They walked along the ramparts, weaving between stationed personnel. Many wore simple uniforms without Rune Fras, adjusting the glowing glyph-controls of turrets or monitoring flickering holographic displays hovering above their wrists. One technician gave Jaune a polite nod as he passed, though most seed too busy to spare attention.
Jaune frowned slightly as he watched them work. "So… most of these people… they're not Awakened, right?"
Ren nodded. "Correct."
"Then… how are they here? I thought only Awakened could enter the Dream."
Ren gestured toward the inner base—the pods Jaune had seen in the Waking World. "The pods act as a bridge. For the non-Awakened, they're a backdoor into the Dream. But there are rules attached."
They stopped at a turret nest where a young woman in uniform was adjusting dials, the weapon humming as it aligned with invisible coordinates.
Ren spoke evenly, ticking points off on his fingers.
"First, non-Awakened don't have access to the Nightmare System. They can't grow stronger here. No stats or runes. Nothing."
Nora added cheerfully, "Which ans no crazy speed sprints or lifting cars over your head."
Ren continued unfazed. "Second, they cannot leave the zone radius. If they attempt to cross that boundary, they'll wake imdiately in the Waking World. No exceptions."
Jaune blinked. "So they're… tethered?"
"Exactly. Third, they can't set spawn points. When they sleep normally, they won't enter the Dream. Only by using the pods can they return here."
Jaune frowned, glancing at the nearest group of staff. "So they're basically… tourists. Stuck inside the walls."
"Not quite." Ren's gaze was sharp. "They have their own boon. They cannot be killed here."
Jaune's head snapped toward him. "Wait, what?"
Oscar explained quietly. "If a non-Awakened staff mber is killed in the Dream, they just wake up. No pain, damage or consequence. Their physical body in the real world is untouched."
That sent Jaune's thoughts spiraling. His chest tightened as a mory tugged at him—Ozpin's words about Raymond Red.
He hesitated, then asked the question that had gnawed at him since his first night here. "...So what happens to us? I an, I know we die... but… how exactly? What happens to the body?"
Ren's expression darkened slightly. For a mont, he didn't answer. Then his calm voice broke the silence.
"Jaune… you've seen how your own body, in the waking world reacts while inside the Dream, haven't you?"
Jaune stiffened. "...Yeah. I set up a cara once, to record myself. I thought maybe I'd see sothing, figure out if my physical body was being transported or not."
"And?" Ren prompted.
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "It was… weird. My body wasn't moving at all. No breathing, no twitching. Just… laying there like a corpse."
Ren nodded grimly. "Exactly. That's because it is."
Jaune's throat went dry. "What do you an…?"
Ren's eyes softened, though his tone carried weight. "When an Awakened enters the Dream, it's not their body that crosses over. It's their soul. Their essence essentially leaves the flesh behind. Which ans, while you're here, your body in the Waking World is nothing more than an empty vessel. Soulless. Braindead. Kept alive only by the bare minimum of biological function."
Nora's smile had also faded now, and even Oscar's jaw tightened at the reminder.
Ren went on. "If an Awakened dies here… that soul is destroyed. Permanently lost. The body left behind becos nothing more than a shell. It will not wake. Within a day, sotis two, the body shuts down completely."
Silence settled over them. The hum of the turrets, the faint pulse of Creation's barrier, the distant screeches of Grimm beyond the line—all of it felt sharper, heavier.
Jaune swallowed hard, staring at the circle of light around the fortress. "So… if we die here… there's no coming back. Not even a little."
Ren's answer was simple. "No. There is not."
Jaune's stomach twisted, but he forced himself to nod. The enormity of what he'd stepped into—the razor's edge he now balanced on—settled fully in his chest.
How could he prevent himself from perishing? How could Jaune make sure that he would survive in this world?
The answer was simple.
Slaughter the creatures of Grimm.
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