Ozpin took a sip of his coffee, the silence stretching between them. Jaune kept his expression neutral, his mind racing through possible responses to whatever came next.
"Your father," Ozpin said finally. "Nicholas Arc. Retired huntsman, served for fifteen years before settling in Ansel. Respectable combat record, nothing extraordinary, but solid and reliable."
Jaune nodded. All true, all public record.
"Six months ago, you began intensive training with him. Prior to that, according to your transcripts, you attended Signal Academy's correspondence program." Ozpin's eyes gleamed behind his glasses. "Except Signal Academy doesn't offer correspondence programs."
'Ah. There it is.'
Damn.
"The transcripts are fake," Jaune admitted. No point lying when caught. "But the training is real. My father spent six months preparing me for Beacon. Everything I can do, he taught me."
"Six months," Ozpin repeated. "And in that time, you achieved a level of combat proficiency that typically requires four years of intensive schooling. Remarkable."
"My father is a very good teacher. And I'm a motivated student."
"Indeed." Ozpin set down his mug. "Mr. Arc, I'm not here to expel you for fraudulent transcripts. Frankly, if you can perform at this level, the paperwork is irrelevant. What interests me is how you achieved such rapid growth."
'Oh good. Not expelled. Just being interrogated by a thousand-year-old wizard. Much better.'
Careful. This was the dangerous part.
"Intensive training," Jaune said. "Twelve hours a day, seven days a week. My father pushed me harder than any combat school would be allowed to. No safety regulations, no curriculum restrictions. Just pure survival training."
"And your aura? It was already unlocked when you arrived at Beacon. Most students without formal training don't have their aura unlocked until initiation."
"Family tradition. My father unlocked it when I was young. I just never trained with it properly until six months ago."
Ozpin leaned back in his chair. "Your danger sense is quite developed. That level of combat intuition typically takes years to cultivate."
"Getting hit a lot teaches you to predict attacks. My father was very thorough about that lesson."
'Very, very thorough. I still have nightmares about the rubber bullets.'
"I see." Ozpin steepled his fingers. "Mr. Arc, I'm going to be direct with you. You're hiding something. I don't know what, and frankly, as long as it doesn't endanger my students or this academy, I don't need to know. However, I do need to understand if you pose any risk."
Jaune met his gaze steadily. "I'm not a threat to Beacon or anyone here. I just want to become a huntsman. Protect people who can't protect themselves."
"Noble goal. Why Beacon specifically?"
"Best academy in Vale. If I'm going to learn, might as well learn from the best."
"And the fake transcripts?"
"I knew I couldn't get in legitimately. No combat school record, no formal training. So I... improvised."
"By forging documents."
"Yes."
Ozpin was quiet for a long moment, studying him. Jaune kept his breathing steady, his expression calm. His danger sense was still pinging softly, warning him this conversation could go either way.
'Please don't expel me. Please don't expel me. I did not train for six months and fight interdimensional terrorists just to get kicked out on week one.'
"Your team speaks highly of you," Ozpin said finally. "Miss Nikos in particular seems quite impressed. She's worked with many talented individuals over the years. For her to defer to your leadership so readily suggests you possess qualities beyond mere combat skill."
"I try to think tactically. Make decisions that keep my team safe."
"And you've succeeded. Your performance during initiation was exemplary. Your coordination during this morning's team exercise was sophisticated for first year students." Ozpin picked up his mug again. "Tell me, Mr. Arc, what are your long-term goals? Why become a huntsman?"
Jaune considered his answer carefully. He couldn't tell the truth about Salem, about the Fall of Beacon, about any of it. But he could be partially honest.
"The world is dangerous. Grimm, criminals, terrorists. People suffer because there aren't enough huntsmen to protect everyone." Jaune leaned forward slightly. "I've seen what happens when no one's there to help. When good people are hurt because no one was strong enough or fast enough or brave enough to stand between them and danger. I don't want to see that anymore."
"You speak as if you've witnessed such things firsthand."
"My village was attacked by Grimm when I was younger. Huntsmen arrived, but not fast enough. People died. I decided then that I wanted to be someone who shows up in time."
It was a lie, but it was a believable lie. And it explained his motivation without revealing anything dangerous.
Ozpin nodded slowly. "A reasonable catalyst. Many huntsmen have similar origin stories." He set down his mug and stood, walking to the window. "Mr. Arc, I'm going to allow you to remain at Beacon. Your transcripts are fraudulent, but your capabilities are real. You've proven yourself during initiation and in your classes."
Jaune felt relief wash through him.
'Oh thank god. Still not expelled. Crisis averted.'
"However," Ozpin continued, "I will be watching you closely. If I suspect you're hiding something that could endanger this academy or my students, we will have a much more serious conversation. Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear, Professor."
"Good." Ozpin turned back from the window. "Now, regarding your actual training. Professor Goodwitch has recommended you for the advanced combat seminar. I agree with her assessment. You need challenges appropriate to your skill level."
"I was considering it."
"Consider it mandatory. Wednesdays at seven PM, training arena three. You'll be sparring against second and third year students, occasionally faculty. It will push you in ways your current classes cannot."
"Understood."
"Additionally, I'd like you to consider taking on a leadership role in tactical exercises. Your ability to coordinate your team during combat is notable. We could use students like you to help train others."
"I'm just a first year, Professor. Wouldn't that be premature?"
"Leadership isn't about years of experience. It's about capability and judgment. You've demonstrated both." Ozpin returned to his desk. "It's a suggestion, not an order. Think about it."
"I will."
"One more thing." Ozpin's expression became serious. "There are forces in this world, Mr. Arc, that go beyond simple Grimm and criminals. Ancient threats, conspiracies, dangers that most people never see. If you ever encounter something beyond your understanding, something that seems wrong in ways you can't explain, I want you to come to me immediately. Do you understand?"
Jaune's danger sense spiked sharply. Ozpin knew something. Maybe not about him specifically, but about threats to Beacon.
'Oh. He's talking about Salem. He knows. Of course he knows. He's been fighting her for centuries.'
"I understand, Professor."
"Good. You're dismissed. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."
Jaune stood and headed for the elevator. As he stepped inside, Ozpin spoke one more time.
"Mr. Arc? Whatever you're preparing for, whatever you're hiding, I hope it's worth the risk."
The elevator doors closed before Jaune could respond.
He leaned against the wall as the elevator descended, his heart pounding. That had been close. Too close. Ozpin suspected something, even if he didn't know what.
But he'd passed. He was staying at Beacon. His cover held, barely.
'Survived my first interrogation by an ancient wizard. That's going on my resume.'
The elevator reached the ground floor. Jaune stepped out and checked his scroll.
[System Alert: No Quest Activation Detected]
[Current Status: Stable]
[Estimated Time Until Quest 2: 3-51 days]
[Recommendation: Continue integration at Beacon. Maintain cover identity.]
"Yeah, no kidding," Jaune muttered.
He headed back to the dorms. Team JNPR was sprawled around the room in various states of relaxation. Nora was hanging upside down from her bunk, reading a comic book. Ren was meditating. Pyrrha was polishing her armor.
"How'd it go with Ozpin?" Pyrrha asked.
"Fine. He just wanted to talk about my combat performance. Recommended me for some advanced training seminar."
"That's wonderful! You should do it."
"Yeah, probably." Jaune sat down at their small table. "Mandatory actually. Wednesdays at seven."
"Ooh, fancy special training!" Nora flipped down from her bunk. "Are you gonna learn secret techniques? Can you teach us?"
"If I learn anything worth teaching, sure."
His scroll buzzed. A message from his father.
"Your mother says you haven't called. She's worried. Call home when you get a chance. Also, how's Beacon? Training hard?"
Jaune smiled and typed back. "Beacon's good. Team is solid. I'll call Mom tonight. And yes, still training. You'd be proud."
He sent the message and looked around at his team. Nora was chattering to Ren about something. Pyrrha was watching them with an amused smile.
This was good. This was what he'd worked for. A team, a place at Beacon, a chance to prepare for what was coming.
Ozpin suspected something, but didn't know what. That was manageable. As long as he kept his cover intact, kept performing well, kept being a normal student, he'd be fine.
'One day at a time. One crisis at a time. One ancient wizard interrogation at a time.'
One day at a time. One class at a time. One challenge at a time.
And when the system pulled him away for another quest, he'd handle that too.