Jaune couldn't speak.
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and wrong. For a long moment, the only thing he could hear was the thumping of own his heart in his chest.
Blake was the first to break the silence.
Her eyes were wide in a way Jaune had rarely seen. She shook her head once, slow and deliberate, as if trying to physically dislodge what she had just heard.
"I think..." she said quietly. "I must have heard you wrong."
Jaune swallowed. He wasn't entirely sure what Weiss had said had actually reached his mind properly. The words had registered, but the meaning slid away from him like oil on water.
Blake looked at Weiss again, more sharply this time. "Say it again?"
Weiss met her gaze.
"The Centurions.... they used to be living operatives," she echoed once again.
This time, Jaune noticed the difference. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were not. There was a faint heaviness in her gaze, like old grief that never quite healed. Pity, yes, but also mourning. Not for one person. For many.
She looked past them, past the ruined street, at the centurion standing before the Nightmare Zone.
"You didn't mishear me, the first time, Blake." Weiss said softly.
From the corner of Jaune's eye, he saw Blake's hand curl around the hilt of her katana. Her grip tightened until her knuckles whitened. The weapon did not move, but the tension in her posture shifted sharply, coiling inward like a spring pulled too far.
Jaune's passive weakness sense flared as a warning. While this... news was something shocking, it seemed as if Blake was affected by this far more than she should have been. More than he expected, at least. The sensation seemed to cling to her in a sharp and uneven manner like an emotional fracture that had been struck unexpectedly.
"What exactly does that mean?" Blake asked without raising her voice.
Weiss did not answer immediately.
She scanned the street first, eyes moving methodically over the dilapidated buildings and shattered windows. Her gaze lingered for a moment on each darkened alleyway and broken doorway, as if making sure the world itself was not listening.
Only when she was satisfied did she speak.
"The existence of centurions means that Atlas crossed a line," Weiss said. "One that was always there, but never really acknowledged according to law."
Jaune frowned slightly. "A line between what and what."
Weiss inhaled slowly.
"You both already know this information," she said. "But not all of it."
She gestured faintly toward the centurion, then toward the Nightmare Zone.
"You understand that the bodies of Awakened are fundamentally different from normal humans?"
Jaune nodded. "Because of our dream bodies?"
"Yes," Weiss confirmed. "At Rank Zero, only the spirit self is enhanced by the system. Our stats, all of it exists solely within the Dream Realm. The physical body in the real world remains unchanged."
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"That limitation is due to the laws surrounding both worlds. Reality constraints all who aren't Rank 3's. The stronger you are—the greater your rank, the more you can push against the invisible law that constrains you."
Blake's eyes flicked to Jaune. "Those laws, you think it's due to the fight between the Sleeper and her enemy?"
"Could be, but we can only speculate at this point." Jaune leaned slightly against a broken streetlight, arms folding loosely as he listened.
"Whether those laws are there due to the existence of the Sleeper, doesn't really matter. What does matter, however, is that when an Awakened reaches Rank One," Weiss continued, "their stats begin to bleed through. Not fully, but enough. Ten percent of their dream capabilities can be manifested in the real world."
She glanced at Jaune. "You know this firsthand."
Jaune nodded. He had lived it.
"In any case, at higher ranks, that connection grows stronger," Weiss said. "The body changes fundamentally. However, when an awakened dies in the Dream Realm, though their spirits might fall, their bodies are still superhumans. Especially at Rank 1 onwards."
Jaune felt a cold unease settle in his stomach.
"There was a scientist," Weiss said. "An Atlas researcher who is both brilliant and... dangerous. He's a Rank Two Awakened."
That alone made Jaune's brow furrow.
"He realized that Awakened bodies retained residual compatibility with runic structures even after death," Weiss continued. "And more importantly, they still have a connection to the dream realm. Though the bodies no longer held a living spirit, they are still able to anchor runic frameworks and channel runic energy."
Jaune stiffened. He remembered how his own body looked when his spirit entered the dream. It looked like it was dead, but it was more-so in a state of suspended animation of some sort. Did that mean that if Jaune were to die, his body could still channel remnants of runic energy?
"That scientist proposed an idea to my father," Weiss said. "He believed that dead operatives could be repurposed. Their bodies reconstructed, reinforced, and bound with complex runic matrice technology."
Jaune's throat felt dry.
"To create mechanical awakened. Centurions." Weiss finished.
The words sank deep.
"Strictly speaking, these things aren't alive," Weiss sighed. "But they aren't entirely machines either. They are biological remnants which act as an interface. A bridge, so to speak. The specialized rune matrix within them does the rest."
Blake's grip on her katana trembled.
"So they're using corpses," Blake said flatly.
"Yes."
The confirmation landed like a blow.
"They can enter the Dream Realm because their bodies are still awakened bodies, and the dream realm is still connected to them." Weiss said. "Their runes no longer exist, but they are still very powerful. Automatons that follow directives rather than instincts."
Jaune looked back at the centurion.
It stood motionless, its posture calm, weapons idle. It looked vigilant. Purposeful. Almost noble.
"How many?" Jaune asked quietly.
Weiss did not answer right away.
"I don't know the exact number," she said. "But there should be around a thousand or so. Fewer than an actual army."
Blake let out a slow breath. "Ironwood approved of this?"
"He allowed the research to continue," Weiss hesitantly explained. "But... not the deployment."
Jaune turned to her sharply. "What do you mean."
"My father was given resources," Weiss explained. "Funding, facilities and access to data. Even the bodies of fallen operatives. Those who died during Dream Realm incursions and those whose deaths were already classified."
Jaune clenched his jaw.
"But Ironwood never authorized field testing," Weiss said. "Never allowed centurions to operate within active Dream sectors."
She looked back at the Nightmare Zone, at the centurion guarding it.
"That seemed to have changed recently. The two of you can probably guess as to why."
"Because of Sleepless," Jaune said.
Weiss nodded. "Sleepless altered the balance. More and more Nightmare Zones are popping up and casualties are rising. LUCID is under pressure to reduce losses."
Blake's voice was sharp. "So they decided to throw the dead back into the war."
"They decided to use what they already had. Technically after signing the contract, we... belong to the government." Weiss replied.
Silence followed.
Jaune felt something heavy settle in his chest. He thought of operatives he had heard about. Names listed briefly in reports. People who vanished into Nightmare Zones and never came back.
"Do the centurions remember?" he asked.
Weiss shook her head. "No. Whatever they were is now gone. There's no personality or consciousness. Just directives and patterns."
Jaune was not sure he agreed.
The centurion shifted slightly, optics glowing faintly brighter as the Nightmare Zone churned behind it.
"They were supposed to remain classified," Weiss said. "Hidden, and maybe used as a last resort."
She exhaled slowly. "But war doesn't respect intentions."
Jaune straightened.
"So Atlas finally decided the line was worth crossing?" he asked.
"Yes."
Blake lifted her head, eyes hard. "And if this works."
Weiss did not answer.
"If this works," Blake continued, "then it might not just stop with fallen operatives."
The implication hung there.
Jaune felt a cold understanding settle in.
The centurion stood guard, silent and obedient, a symbol of a future that did not ask for permission.
"What does this mean for the families," Jaune asked quietly.
Weiss looked at him.
"For the ones who died," he continued. "The operatives. Even if most people don't really know about LUCID, bodies don't just… disappear. Someone would notice and would ask questions."
Weiss winced.
It was a small reaction, but it told him enough.
"I don't know every detail," she said after a moment. "But from what I was told… the bodies don't go missing."
Blake's brows flicked down. "Then how?"
"Replicas," Weiss replied. "Artificial remains. They're constructed to match the original body as closely as possible."
"So the families bury a fake?" Jaune asked with a humorless laugh.
"Yes," Weiss answered softly. "They're given closure... and their memories are also altered. In the same way they handle civilian exposure after Grimm spillovers into the real world. It's controlled and targeted."
Jaune swallowed. He had known of memory runes being used after major incidents. Entire city blocks forgetting a night that never officially happened. It was always framed as a mercy.
This did not feel like mercy.
"What if the operative had family who were Awakened," Jaune asked. "You can't just alter their memories. Memory runes don't work on people with an active aura stat."
Weiss hesitated.
That pause was sharper than the last one.
"They don't take those bodies," she said finally. "Not if the deceased has a living Awakened relative."
Blake's jaw tightened.
"There are… rules," Weiss continued. "Internal ones that my father wouldn't cross. If there's a risk of someone noticing inconsistencies, the body is left alone."
Jaune stared at her. "So they only use the ones who won't be missed by anyone who can fight back."
Weiss didn't correct him.
"That's," Blake began, then stopped.
Jaune felt his weakness sense stir again, brushing against Blake like a warning bell wrapped in silk. Her emotions were tightly bound, compressed beneath layers of discipline and habit. Anger was there. Disgust. Something sharper beneath it all that he did not have the context to name.
He wanted to ask if she was alright.
Before he could, Blake spoke.
"Is it just Atlas," she asked. "Or are they taking bodies from other kingdoms too?"
Weiss shook her head immediately. "Atlas only. As far as I know, this research never left our borders. Other kingdoms wouldn't have allowed it, and Ironwood would never have pushed it past them without consent."
Blake exhaled slowly.
Some of the tension drained from her posture, not disappearing, but loosening enough that Jaune noticed the difference. Whatever she had been bracing for, that answer had mattered.
"That's… something," Blake said quietly.
Jaune did not feel the same relief.
He looked back at the centurion, at the way it stood between the Nightmare Zone and the city beyond. A guardian made of stolen remains and runic command, protecting people who would never know what it was.
Families mourning bodies that were not real.
Memories gently reshaped to fit a cleaner story.
"This is wrong," Jaune said.
Weiss closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her expression was tired in a way that went deeper than exhaustion.
"I know," she said. "But this... is what was going to be unveiled during the ball. And after that event is over... it's likely that Centurions are going to be distributed to all over the world."
Weiss paused as an unknown emotion surfaced in the depths of her eyes.
"And the dead will rise to slaughter the creatures of grimm. Bound to eternal servitude, even after their deaths."
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon