The music carried them forward in a smooth, unbroken tide of a rhythm that guided their steps whether they acknowledged it or not. Weiss moved with practiced elegance in Jaune's hold, her posture flawless, her expression composed for anyone watching. To the room, she was the Schnee heiress doing exactly what was expected of her.
Only Jaune knew how carefully that calm was being maintained. Though, Jaune could feel a stare boring into his back. He recognized it belonging Jacques Schnee.
Jaune wondered what the man was thinking, seeing his beloved daughter in the hands of a plebian like Jaune. Well, money wise at least. Though perhaps his status as an awakened brought the bridge closer.
As they turned together, close enough that their voices could not carry beyond each other, Jaune leaned in slightly whispered his voice across her ear.
"Your father—he doesn't look too happy that you're dancing with me."
Jaune's breath travelling atop her skin caused her to shudder, as small goosebumps flittered across her nape. Even still, her eyes held a daring glint.
"Don't worry about it. If anything, this can be considered as revenge for his irritating actions during the past couple of years."
Jaune shook his head with a smile. Weiss was clearly in her rebellious phase.
"That woman earlier," he murmured. "Was she really trying to get close to me just to get information about your family?"
Weiss breathed out slowly, yet she didn't look surprised at the question.
Her gaze stayed forward, chin lifted, steps never faltering as she followed the choreography. "Yes," she whispered back quietly. "Not you specifically. You were simply… convenient."
Jaune winced faintly. "That's comforting."
She exhaled softly through her nose, the hint of a smile touching her lips. "It's not personal, Jaune. Information gathering is the true currency in rooms like this."
They shifted positions, Jaune guiding her through a turn. As the music swelled, Weiss allowed herself to speak a little more freely, though her voice was still kept low.
"Truth be told, the Schnee family has actually had a bit of a history of awakened individuals appearing within its lineage," she said. "That alone makes us valuable and dangerous. Awakened are considered military assets, whether they want to be or not."
Jaune frowned slightly. "Even outside the Dream Realm?"
"Especially outside it," Weiss answered. "Most conflicts are fought there, yes, but the overworld has never been peaceful. Resources, influence, technology. These things still matter. A family that supplies to LUCID's infrastructure and also produces awakened soldiers is always going to be watched."
Jaune absorbed that quietly.
The music reached a brief crescendo and he spun Weiss outward, then pulled her back in with a smooth motion. He reached out to catch her, his hand firm at her waist as their bodies came closer than the dance strictly required.
For half a second, they both froze and the scent of her subtle perfume filled his nose. It had a hint of vanilla and cool mint. A very refreshing and tasty scent.
Color bloomed faintly across Weiss's cheeks and Jaune felt his own face warm in response.
Neither of them commented on it. They adjusted, seamlessly returning to the rhythm as if nothing had happened.
"The delegates from Vacuo, well all the kingdoms, really," Weiss continued softly, regaining her composure. "They need to ensure that the Centurions are aligned with Dream Realm combat. If there was even a hint that this technology would be deployed for overworld warfare, it would cause… complications. Political ones and military ones."
Jaune's brow furrowed. "So they were testing the waters."
"Yes. And they would've used you as an entry point," Weiss said. "Because you're my friend, they believe that they can use you to fish for information. A friendly conversation, casual questions. Nothing overt. But by the time someone realizes they've said too much, the damage is already done."
Jaune sighed quietly. "This is way more complicated than I thought."
That a smile from Weiss, something softer and more personal. The light caught her features just right and for a brief moment, she looked unburdened by expectation or duty.
Jaune's heart skipped.
"That's exactly why I didn't want to come here," Weiss said. "And why I chose to move to Vale in the first place."
Her voice dipped even lower. "I wanted distance from this. From being watched, measured and weighed for usefulness. In Vale, I could just be… me. Well... sort of."
"I see... so that's why you were always keeping people at a distance. Except for Pyrrha, I guess."
She sighed and nodded, the sound almost lost beneath the music. "This world never lets you forget who you're supposed to be."
Jaune nodded, understanding settling in his chest. He guided her through another turn, slower this time, allowing the moment to stretch.
"I'm glad I met you in Vale, Weiss." he said simply.
Weiss looked at him, surprise flickering briefly in her eyes before she masked it again. "So am I."
The music shifted then.
The tempo changed, becoming lighter and more playful, the ensemble transitioning into a new piece with fluid precision. Jaune's attention drifted briefly from Weiss and caught movement at the edge of his vision.
Blake.
She stood near the edge of the dance floor, dark hair falling over one shoulder, posture tense despite her attempt at indifference. The same two young men from earlier had approached her again, speaking animatedly, one of them offering a hand.
Blake shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line. She took a small step back.
Jaune winced.
As he scanned the surrounding crowd, he noticed something else. Several people their age had begun to notice Blake. Curious glances lingered and whispers followed. Interest was clearly spreading.
Weiss noticed too.
"Seems like others are thinking on using Blake for information as well. I think it might be better if Blake dances," she said quietly.
Jaune glanced down at her. "And you?"
Weiss cringed ever so slightly, emotions betraying her even before her expression could. Calculation and a trace of frustration.
"If I stop dancing," she said, "I'll be approached immediately. And unlike Blake, I can't easily refuse without drawing attention."
Jaune nodded slowly. "So you're stuck."
"For at least another thirty minutes," Weiss confirmed.
They moved through another sequence, Jaune leading her through a graceful pirouette. As she spun back toward him, something shifted in her demeanor.
Her emotions surged suddenly, bright and sharp with inspiration.
Jaune recognized that feeling instantly.
It was trouble.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Ugh... Weiss… what are you thinking about?"
She smiled.
It was a small, mischievous thing that normally didn't belong on her face.
"I have an idea," she said.
Jaune grimaced. "This isn't going to end well, is it?"
She ignored him, adjusting their steps and subtly guiding their path across the floor toward Blake. As they drew closer, Weiss extended her free hand and took Blake's without breaking stride.
Blake startled, eyes widening slightly.
Weiss spoke quickly, her voice too low for anyone else to hear. "Dance with us. It solves several problems at once."
Blake blinked. "What?"
The two young men who had been speaking to Blake faltered, clearly unsure how to react.
"I would like to dance with her," Weiss said coolly, already pulling Blake closer. "If you'll excuse us."
The men exchanged confused glances but stepped aside.
Dancing women together wasn't improper, but it was unusual enough to discourage further interference.
Blake leaned in toward Weiss. "What... are you doing?"
Weiss whispered rapidly, still holding Jaune's hand. "Trust me."
Jaune, meanwhile, was trying to process the situation unfolding around him.
Then Weiss pulled Blake into position and guided both of them back toward the center of the floor.
Realization struck him all at once.
"Oh no."
The music did not pause for their confusion.
Soon, the three of them were moving together in a dance designed for two.
It was… complicated.
Jaune found himself at the center of the formation, adjusting constantly as Weiss and Blake shifted positions around him. One moment he was guiding Weiss through a turn while Blake mirrored the motion on the opposite side. The next, Blake stepped in closer, their movements weaving together in a pattern that should not have worked but somehow did.
Heads turned and whispers followed.
The trio was unmistakably the focus of the room.
Blake's initial discomfort faded into cautious curiosity, her movements fluid as she adapted. Weiss looked composed, almost pleased with herself. Jaune, however, was keenly aware of every eye on them.
He also became acutely aware of how much effort this required.
"Color me impressed, Jaune. Dancing with multiple women? This is a skill you've been honing?" Blake teased as she leaned in with a flourish.
"Ugh... don't remind me. Seven sisters. You've no idea how many times my skills have been tested. Though... this might just be my body taking over."
"Right... I'd forgotten about your sisters. Though, I suppose your skills do speak for themselves." Blake continued.
Jaune could only shrug in response.
Leading two partners demanded constant attention. He had to anticipate both of their movements, adjust his timing, shift his balance. His hands were never still, guiding, supporting, redirecting.
It was exhausting and strangely... exhilarating?
Weiss glanced at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Now, you have me curious as to how many women you can handle at once."
Jaune's thoughts almost sputtered. Weiss probably hadn't realized the innuendo in her own words and Jaune didn't particularly feel like pointing it out, yet that didn't mean the look he shared with Blake was anything other than amusement.
"Who knows? Maybe five is the limit?"
Blake smirked faintly. "Five huh? My, my my, you surely do have an appetite. Though... you must be feeling lucky having two beautiful women all to yourself"
Jaune huffed quietly, yet despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips. Lucky or unlucky, he wasn't sure.
But as the music carried them forward and the room watched in stunned fascination, Jaune knew one thing for certain.
This was shaping to be a night that he would not forget.
.
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The wind screamed across the rooftops of Dream Realm Rime, carrying with it the distant echo of destruction. Perched atop what remained of a fractured building, Nicholas Arc stood with one foot lightly resting on the edge, posture relaxed as though he were observing a performance rather than standing at the center of a battlefield.
Attacks came at him in waves.
A crescent of compressed force tore through the air toward his position, distorting light as it passed. Nicholas stepped aside, the motion lazy, almost disrespectful in its simplicity. The attack clipped the building behind him instead, erupting in a thunderous detonation that ripped the spire apart from its foundation. Stone and steel fell away in a roaring cascade.
Nicholas however, did not.
He simply stepped forward onto the air as if it were solid ground. He descended outwards, walking calmly through empty space as rubble thundered past him on all sides. In his left hand, a rune hovered above his palm, rotating slowly. Its edges glowed with restrained light, symbols folding into themselves in endlessly shifting geometry.
Coalesce.
He regarded it with mild interest, as though it were a puzzle he had already solved but had not yet bothered to complete.
From below, the city answered his presence with fury.
The ground split apart as enormous wooden roots erupted upward, thicker than city streets and sharp as spears. They surged toward him in rapid succession, tearing through structures and impaling entire buildings as they rose. The force behind them was immense, each one moving with lethal intent.
Nicholas leapt.
He pushed off the air, body twisting smoothly as he cleared the first root by meters. His coat fluttered as another root screamed past beneath him, its tip grazing his shoe. He landed briefly on the side of a third, using it as a stepping stone before launching himself upward again.
One root curved midair, adjusting its trajectory with unnatural precision as it closed in from behind.
Nicholas glanced at it.
He raised a single finger.
The moment his fingertip touched the surface, something fundamental unraveled. Wood crumbled into fine dust, structure collapsing inward as if the concept holding it together had been revoked. The remains scattered harmlessly into the air.
A flash of white blue light erupted nearby.
A woman surged into view, her form wrapped entirely in lightning. Her movements were violent and instantaneous, each step acting like a crack of thunder. She crossed the distance between them in less than a heartbeat, her arm already swinging, electricity condensing into a blade of raw energy.
Nicholas was already gone.
He slipped aside before the attack completed, motion precise to the point of foresight. The blade carved through where his neck had been, releasing a shockwave that shattered windows across an entire city block. He reappeared behind her, then above, then to the side, each dodge occurring before her strikes fully manifested.
She was faster, that much was obvious.
And yet she could not touch him.
Every blow missed by inches. Every feint found only empty air. It was as if Nicholas wasn't reacting to her movements, but to something else entirely. An unseen script and a future already written.
Their clash tore the streets of Rime apart.
Shockwaves rippled outward, flattening structures and pulverizing streets. Lightning scorched the skyline while splintered roots continued to writhe and thrash in the distance. Other figures moved through the chaos, Rank 2 operatives, unleashing power capable of leveling districts, yet none of it mattered.
Nicholas Arc didn't look at them.
His gaze never left the rune floating in his palm.
Coalesce rotated more slowly now, its light deepening, layers of symbols overlapping until they were almost impossible to distinguish. Something vast pressed against the edges of reality, like pressure building beneath ice.
Nicholas lifted his head.
Above the ruined city, the moon hung fractured and red, its surface cracked like shattered glass. Light bled through its fractures, bathing Rime in an eerie crimson glow.
Nicholas smiled.
"Well," he said softly, voice carrying effortlessly through the chaos. "I think it's about time."
He closed his hand and the rune shattered.
There was no explosion, flash or detonation.
The world simply lurched.
The Dream City of Rime trembled as if struck by the fist of something immeasurable. Buildings groaned. The air itself vibrated, pressure cascading outward in invisible waves. Every ongoing attack froze mid motion. Lightning flickered and stalled. Roots halted in place, suspended as though caught in amber.
Silence fell.
Not peace. Not calm. But a dreadful stillness that pressed against the mind.
Across the battlefield, the Rank 2 operatives all felt it at once. A presence unfolding, like gravity that did not belong to mass or force, but to inevitability.
The man controlling the roots stood motionless, eyes wide, breath caught painfully in his throat. His power faltered, roots crumbling as his focus shattered.
He whispered, voice shaking, barely audible over the dying echoes of destruction.
"Rank… Rank 3 Grimm."
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon