Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 17]

The Grimm crashed on a line of pikemen. Or rather, a line of Millers, Carpenters, Builders, Farmers and Shopkeepers who wielded spears and held the line, points tipped toward the enemy. They buckled under the initial assault but then those behind pushed forward and braced. Grimm continued to push into them, impaling themselves and disappearing, allowing more to slam into the sharp points and die. The larger ones died slowly, however, and one pushed forward, wounding itself more and more as it forced its body deep down the shaft toward the man holding the other end, clad in but the lightest of padded armour.

It didn't hold up to the rending claws that tore his chest out. Trapped in the phalanx with nowhere to go sideways or back, he was forced to stand there and watch death approach, then take it without giving ground. He fell with a gurgle and a fresh person stepped into his place, pushed by those behind. He was a fresh-faced boy of some sixteen years and he died just as quickly, getting one good stab in on the Grimm which did nothing but draw its attention and end his life.

The third combatant did better, pushing it back so it could dissolve and then getting his spear down in time to impale the next attacker. And the next, and the next and another, until he was stabbing his spear hard enough to punch through lesser Grimm.

It was like flour being ground to dust under a mill. Where the Grimm hit the line, both sides died in droves and neither had any chance to retreat. Those at the front were gaining levels, I realised. The one man I watched had killed six Grimm now – and he'd probably never even seen one until today. Like me, he was growing stronger and stronger, stabbing and driving Grimm back with increasing ease.

Until a Beowolf leapt in, that was. The Grimm, not quite Ancient but close, proved faster and got around the tip of his spear. It tore his throat out in a shower of blood before being impaled by six spear tips at once. The brave man I'd been watching died on the floor, alongside the numerous other bodies which lay face up on the street.

I noticed the pale blue reflection of my eyes in the glass window. They were glowing again, keeping me focused on the task at hand and able to ignore what would otherwise have been crippling doubt, fear or rage. I turned away from the window, leaving the hopeless fight outside and the people dying in their hundreds.

Ruby was on the other end of the room, pacing left and right with eyes fixed on the window Blake had escaped through, waiting for the signal to move. The butt of Ruby's scythe tapped the floor with every step she took, doing little to me but likely driving her insane. She was biting her fingernails as well, letting the little bits of nail drop to the floor.

"Blake will be fine," I said flatly. "Be patient."

"How can you be so calm!?" she asked, whirling on me. She saw my eyes and sighed. "Oh. That's how. You know Blake hates it when you do that. Says it makes you act less human."

"It's not something I can turn on or off." I hadn't known Blake thought that way but couldn't say I minded. Not that I could mind at the minute, my Resilience having taken over, but even if it hadn't, I think I'd have been fine with it. I certainly didn't disagree. It kept me from breaking with Raven, and it helped me get through so many other battles in the past. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make if it keeps me alive. Without it, I didn't think I'd be able to stand and wait here as people died outside.

"Must be convenient," she muttered, "Being able to turn off your fear."

"It doesn't turn it off and it doesn't make me deaf, either." I still felt afraid, but it didn't affect me. I imagined this was like how Ren felt – the brief flashes of emotion swept away like oil over water. "You need to be patient, Ruby. There's no rush to reach Salem."

[...]

"The house is clear," Blake whispered. "I'll move on and check the next. Jaune, your-" She paused as she saw my eyes. "Again? I guess it makes sense. It this over the Quest? Ruby? Will you be able to go ahead if you're having to block it out already?"

"It's not Ruby," I said. "It's blocking out the battle."

"Oh. Right. I suppose that makes sense…"

"They're using my weapons," I said. My voice was casual despite the topic, not removed of emotion but flat and even. More a forced calm than a lack of emotion whatsoever. "Normal people. They don't stand a chance and they're dying in their thousands."

"Jaune…"

"I wonder how many of them listened to my speech and felt inspired by it?"

"Jaune, stop. Please…"

"Do you think they're cursing my name for making them think it was possible for them to stand up to the Grimm? And here I am, ignoring their plight and moving on while they die." I sighed. "It wouldn't surprise me if they hated my guts." I stopped suddenly. Blake looked ill and Ruby wore a horrified expression caught somewhere between grief and panic. Most of that was aimed at me. "Sorry," I said. "Didn't mean to bring the mood down. Don't worry, I'm not dwelling on it or anything."

"Only because you can't." Blake shook her head and moved us upstairs, hissing to herself. I couldn't make out the words but knew they were about me.

"Is this how it always is?" Ruby asked me. "Does it always make you like this?"

"No. I guess this is an extreme case." I answered frankly. Not much point of hiding anything here, and I didn't really consider my Resilience fugues, as Ren called them, to be that big a deal. "Most of the time I don't really think at all. I just turn off and focus on a task. It's not as horrible as it sounds, especially if it's boring work like making spearheads."

"Like in Atlas when you were digging people out of the rubble. You just kept going and going, even when Yang and Pyrrha couldn't life another rock."

"Like that. It doesn't make me not tire, more…"

"It stops you tiring mentally?"

"Yeah. That's a good way of putting it." Those times passed in a blur that I couldn't recall, but I didn't think it made time move faster or shut off my mind. If it had, I wouldn't have been able to complete the task at hand. "It's more that I focus so solely on the task that I ignore everything else. It's not had any negative side-effects so far."

"Except making you act like this," Blake said from ahead.

"Except that." I shrugged. "It kept me sane and alive when Raven had me. I just kept fighting and killing without being weighed down by it. At the end, I started to break, but without this I'd have snapped in the first day or two."

Ruby touched my arm. "Can we not talk about that…?"

"Sure." They were the ones who asked. "I'm not emotionless," I felt the need to reaffirm. "Just so you know. I'm still pissed at Ruby for choosing to do this, and annoyed at Ozpin for suggesting it, so yeah. Definitely not without emotions."

"Just hyper-focused," Blake said. "I get it. And apparently, so focused that you'll speak your mind without worrying how it affects people, like literally telling Ruby how angry you are. If it were any other situation, I'd take advantage of that and see what you really think about things."

The idea brought a small smile to my face.

[...]

With time, my Resilience faded. There was nothing for it to work on as I sat alone in the abandoned house, leaning back on a comfortable sofa made of leather, head falling over the back and staring up at the ceiling. With it, my fears came rushing back. Lucky for me, it was too late to do anything about them, so I was able to ignore them and sit still.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 17]