Jaune Arc opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.
For a moment, he just stared at the wooden beams above him, his mind still foggy. The last thing he remembered was... what? Falling asleep after binging another anime? Getting ready for work? Everything felt distant, like trying to remember a dream.
Then it hit him all at once.
Oh. Oh no.
He sat up quickly, looking around the room. Small, rustic, decorated with family photos he recognized but had never actually seen in person. Seven sisters grinning in various stages of chaos. Parents who looked tired but happy. And him, or rather, the original Jaune Arc, looking awkward and out of place in every single picture.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Blond hair. Longer than he remembered.
He looked down at his hands. Bigger, younger, calloused in different places. They fit perfectly on his body, but they weren't his hands. Not the ones he'd gone to sleep with last night.
He stood up and caught sight of himself in a small mirror on the wall. Seventeen years old, shaggy blond hair, blue eyes that looked far too earnest for someone who'd just had their entire existence rewritten.
The face staring back at him was familiar. He'd seen it hundreds of times in the show.
"I'm in RWBY," he said out loud, testing how insane it sounded. "I'm actually in RWBY. I'm Jaune Arc, and I'm about to go to Beacon, and everyone I know is going to die if I don't..."
A translucent blue screen appeared in front of his face.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[WELCOME, DIMENSIONAL TRAVELER]
Jaune stared at it for a long moment. Then he started laughing, quiet at first, then louder, borderline hysterical.
"Of course there's a system. Of course there is." He wiped his eyes, still grinning despite the absurdity. "This is every isekai fanfiction I've ever read. I'm in an anime world with a game system. What's next, a harem flag?"
The screen shifted.
[SYSTEM OVERVIEW]
[Primary Function: Facilitate dimensional travel and power acquisition]
[Current Status: Tutorial Phase]
[First Quest Available in: 6 Months]
[Preparation Period: Train and integrate into world]
[Warning: Death is permanent. Protect yourself.]
"Well that's comforting," Jaune muttered. "Very comforting. 'Death is permanent.' Great safety warning, System. Really puts me at ease."
More text appeared.
[Current Stats]
[Name: Jaune Arc]
[Age: 17]
[Aura: Unlocked (Large Reserves, Untrained)]
[Semblance: Locked]
[Combat Ability: Poor]
[Knowledge Advantage: Significant]
[Time Until Beacon: 6 Months]
Jaune read through it twice. Six months until Beacon. Six months to prepare for a world where fifteen year olds fought monsters that could tear through concrete like wet paper. Six months to avoid becoming a statistic.
But he had something the original Jaune didn't. He knew what was coming. He knew about the Fall of Beacon, about Salem, about Cinder's plan. He knew Ruby had silver eyes, that Pyrrha would die on top of Beacon Tower, that Ozpin was hosting an ancient wizard in his head.
And apparently, he had a system that would let him travel to other dimensions and gain their powers.
"Okay," he said, closing the screen with a thought. "Okay. I can work with this. I've read enough isekai to know how this goes. Train hard, get stronger, try not to die horribly."
He walked over to the window, looking out at the familiar landscape of Ansel. A small farming village, peaceful and boring and exactly where Jaune Arc grew up. Where he'd dreamed of being a hero like his great great grandfather.
Well, now he had a chance to actually do it. And unlike the original Jaune, he wasn't going into this blind.
Jaune grabbed Crocea Mors from where it hung on the wall. His ancestor's sword and sheath, handed down through generations. The weight felt right in his hand, natural, like the weapon recognized him even though his soul was different.
"Six months," he said quietly, strapping the sheath to his belt. "Six months to train. To prepare. To make sure I don't die in the first week at Beacon."
He pulled up the system again.
"Hey, System. Do I get any starter bonuses? Tutorial gifts? Anything to help me not die immediately?"
[Accessing...]
[Starter Benefits Granted:]
[Knowledge Retention: Perfect memory of previous life and show knowledge]
[Physical Enhancement (Minor): Body optimized for training]
[Aura Training Guide: Basic exercises unlocked]
[Mental Fortitude: Adult mindset preserved]
[Combat Database: Basic sword techniques available]
"Not bad," Jaune admitted. "Not exactly 'instant godlike power' but I'll take it. At least I won't forget important plot points."
He opened the Aura Training Guide, scanning through the information. It was surprisingly detailed. Breathing exercises, meditation techniques, methods to strengthen his aura reserves and control. The original Jaune never had his aura unlocked until Pyrrha did it for him at Beacon, but this body already had it active.
Small mercies.
"Guess that's one advantage of being a transmigrator," he muttered. "Starting with the power system already unlocked."
He spent the next hour reading through everything the system provided. Combat stances, footwork drills, aura manipulation exercises. With his perfect retention, he absorbed it all, filing it away for later practice.
A knock on his door made him dismiss the screen.
"Jaune? You awake, sweetheart?" His mother's voice, warm and familiar in a way that made his chest tight.
"Yeah, Mom. Just getting up."
"Breakfast is ready when you are. Your father wants to talk to you about something."
Jaune took a breath. Right. He had a family now. A whole life that the original Jaune had lived that he needed to... what? Fake? Integrate with? He had the body's memories, vague and distant, but they felt like watching someone else's home videos.
"I'll be down in a minute."
He looked at himself in the mirror one more time. Same face, different person behind the eyes.
"Alright, Jaune," he said to his reflection. "Let's see if you can actually pull this off."
The Arc family kitchen was warm and chaotic in exactly the way he expected. Seven sisters ranging from age eight to twenty two, all talking over each other. His mother trying to maintain some semblance of order. His father sitting at the head of the table with the patient expression of a man who'd long since learned to pick his battles.
"Jaune!" Claire, his youngest sister at eight years old, launched herself at him the moment he entered. "You're finally up! Dad said he has something important to tell you!"
"Easy, Claire," he said, catching her automatically. The name came naturally, pulled from the body's memories. "Let me at least get some food first."
"You slept in late," Saphron said from her spot at the table. At twenty, she was the oldest and apparently appointed herself as the responsible one. "That's not like you."
"Bad dreams," Jaune said, which wasn't exactly a lie. Waking up in a different body definitely qualified.
"Nightmares about Beacon?" Rouge asked with a teasing grin. At eighteen, she was only a year older than him and never missed a chance to mess with him. "Afraid you'll embarrass yourself in front of all those pretty huntresses?"
"Rouge," their mother said with a warning tone.
"What? I'm just saying, our baby brother is going off to the most prestigious combat school in Vale. With fake transcripts. That he thinks no one knows about."
Jaune nearly choked on the glass of water he'd just picked up. "I... what?"
"Please," Violet said, rolling her eyes. The sixteen year old had apparently inherited the family's sarcasm. "We all know, Jaune. You're not exactly subtle."
"I..." Jaune looked at his father, who was watching him with calm, knowing eyes.
"We'll talk about that after breakfast, son," Nicholas Arc said. His voice was steady, not angry, just... patient.
Great. Less than an hour in this world and he was already caught.
The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of sibling chaos. Jade, the fourteen year old, kept asking him questions about Beacon. Orchid and Coral, the twelve and ten year olds, mostly just made noise. Claire sat next to him and insisted on sharing half her pancakes.
It was overwhelming and warm and nothing like his previous life, where he'd lived alone in a small apartment.
When breakfast finally ended and his sisters scattered to their various activities, his father gestured for him to follow.
They walked outside to the training yard behind the house. Old training dummies stood in rows, scarred from years of use. Weapons hung on racks, well maintained but clearly aged.
"So," Nicholas said, turning to face him. "Want to tell me what's really going on?"
Jaune considered his options. Lie? The body's memories told him his father was a retired huntsman, perceptive and skilled. Telling the truth? 'Hey Dad, I'm actually a transmigrator from another world' would get him committed.
"I want to go to Beacon," he said finally. "I know I'm not ready. I know I shouldn't be going. But I have to try."
"Why?"
"Because..." Jaune struggled for words. "Because I can't just stay here and do nothing. People need help. Huntsmen save lives. I want to be part of that."
Nicholas studied him for a long moment. "You've changed."
"What?"
"Something's different about you. Since last night." His father's eyes were sharp, analytical. "You stand differently. You speak differently. It's subtle, but I've trained warriors for thirty years. I notice these things."
Jaune's mouth went dry. Of course a retired huntsman would notice. He'd been in this body for less than two hours and he'd already blown his cover.
"I..." he started, then stopped. What could he even say?
"I don't know what happened," Nicholas continued. "And I'm not going to pry. But I know my son. The Jaune who went to bed last night was uncertain, desperate, willing to forge documents to chase a dream he wasn't ready for." He paused. "The Jaune standing in front of me now has the eyes of someone who's seen things. Who understands consequences."
Jaune swallowed hard. "I'm still me. I still want to go to Beacon. I still want to help people."
"But now you understand what that actually means."
"Yes."
Nicholas nodded slowly. "Good. Because I'm going to train you properly. Six months until Beacon's entrance exam. If you're going to forge transcripts and throw yourself into danger, you're going to do it with actual skill, not just desperate hope."
"You're... you're going to help me?"
"You're my son. Of course I'm going to help you." His father's expression softened slightly. "But understand this. Huntsman training is brutal. I'm going to push you harder than you've ever been pushed. And if at the end of six months I don't think you're ready, you're not going. Fake transcripts or not, I won't let you walk into Beacon unprepared."
Jaune felt something loosen in his chest. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." Nicholas walked over to the weapon rack and pulled down a practice sword. "Because we're starting right now. Show me what you can do."
Jaune drew Crocea Mors, feeling the weight of the blade in his hand. The Combat Database the system had given him was already feeding him information. Basic stances, guard positions, footwork fundamentals.
"Whenever you're ready," his father said, settling into a combat stance.
Jaune took a breath, centered himself, and raised his sword.
Six months of hell started now.
But at least this time, he wouldn't be going in blind.