RWBY: Moon Reflection

Crimson's movements were relentless, his blade slicing through the onslaught of attacks from every direction. Sweat streamed down his face, his breathing ragged, yet his resolve never faltered. The combined force of his enemies—Cinder, Raven, Tyrian, Hazel, Adam, and the others—pressed him into a corner. Still, his iron will refused to yield.

The flurry of strikes left him no time to blink. His eyes darted from one opponent to the next, calculating angles and anticipating the next strike. But then, in a fleeting moment, his gaze froze.

Amid the chaos, standing just beyond the fray, was a boy. A child with long, dark hair tied neatly, dressed in simple yet elegant attire, a mark like jagged flames etched on his face. He exuded an air of tranquility that clashed with the surrounding carnage. His kind, calm eyes met Crimson's, and he smiled—a soft, serene smile that spoke of familiarity and warmth.

The world seemed to slow. Crimson's breathing hitched, his surroundings fading into a dull hum. His blade paused mid-swing, his focus narrowing entirely on the boy. His enemies faltered, their attacks halting for a brief moment as they noticed his stillness.

"Keep attacking!" Cinder's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, breaking the brief lull.

But Crimson didn't react. He didn't hear her.

The boy's serene smile twisted, morphing into something sinister. His gentle gaze darkened, and his lips curled into a sneer.

"Pathetic," the boy said, his voice cutting through Crimson's daze like a blade. "Weak. A failure."

Crimson's heart clenched, his mind spinning as the boy's words echoed.

The momentary distraction was all his enemies needed. Cinder hurled a spear of flame that struck Crimson square in the chest, sending him skidding back. Raven followed, her sword cutting a deep gash across his side. Tyrian's pincers tore at him, Hazel's massive fists slammed into his chest, and Adam's blade struck true, severing the hand that held his weapon.

Each blow landed with precision, shattering his aura. Crimson's body crumpled under the relentless barrage, yet he didn't flinch, didn't groan, didn't even blink. His gaze remained fixed on the boy, now transformed into a young man with striking, fierce features and an air of quiet intensity.

The young man's sneer deepened. "You've been trash since the day you were born. You tried to copy me, failed, and nearly died for it. And then, you sold yourself—just to survive."

The words pierced deeper than any blade. Crimson's body sagged, his back colliding with a wall as he slumped to the ground. His handless arm hung limp at his side, blood pooling beneath him. His enemies circled, their weapons raised, but even then, he didn't acknowledge them.

The figure before him changed again, aging into an old man with gray hair and a weathered face. Yet the smile remained—a twisted mask of contempt.

"All your struggles… all your sacrifices… worthless," the man sneered. "You became a demon, cast aside your soul, and abandoned everything—yet even after all that, you still failed. And now, you dare to pretend you're human? Pathetic. That's all you are. That's all you'll ever be. No effort, no act of redemption will ever change that"

Crimson's vision blurred, but his gaze remained locked on the figure.

"You don't deserve redemption. You don't deserve a family. You don't even deserve a name. You are nothing, Michikatsu"

The final words struck like thunder. "I never loved you. I wish you weren't my brother."

The enemies surrounding him unleashed their explosive weaponry in unison. Blades of fire, shrapnel, and concussive blasts struck his body, forcing him through the wall behind him. The structure groaned under the assault before collapsing entirely, burying Crimson beneath a mountain of rubble.

The battlefield fell silent. Dust and debris clouded the air as the building settled into ruins. For a moment, no one moved, their eyes fixed on the destruction.

Cinder's lips curled into a victorious smirk, her chest rising and falling with exertion. "It's over," she said.

The others exchanged glances, their awe at Crimson's sheer tenacity still lingering, but the sudden daze and how easily he went down left them confused. They didn't understand what had just happened.

Emerald collapsed to her knees, her breaths shallow and ragged. Sweat dripped down her face, and her complexion was ashen. Her trembling hands pressed against the ground as if to keep herself from collapsing entirely.

Mercury, standing nearby, glanced at her with a mix of confusion and concern. His usually confident demeanor faltered as he crouched beside her. "Emerald," he said, his voice laced with doubt. "Did you… did you show him something at the end?"

Emerald nodded weakly, her head hanging low. "I… I think I did," she whispered, her voice shaky. "My semblance… it felt like it grew stronger, like it was pulling on something deeper inside him. I… I don't know exactly what he saw, but…" She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "It was someone he loved. Twisted, dark—like a nightmare version of them."

She lifted her tear-streaked face to meet Mercury's eyes, desperation etched into her features. "I don't even understand what happened. It was like his mind broke."

Cinder's laughter erupted, sharp and cutting, echoing across the battlefield. She took a step forward, her fiery eyes glinting with satisfaction. "It doesn't matter," she declared, her voice dripping with cruel glee. "He's dead now. Nothing more than ashes under the rubble."

From behind her, a scream pierced the air.

"CRIMSON!"

Ruby's voice cracked with anguish, the sound tearing through the hearts of her allies. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched Crescent Rose, her entire body trembling with sorrow and fury. Her silver eyes blazed, flickering with a light that was both beautiful and terrifying.

The rest of her team, and those who had fought alongside them, drew their weapons. Yang's fists ignited, her hair glowing like embers as her rage flared. Weiss's rapier gleamed, her glyphs swirling with icy precision. Even Pyrrha, always composed, gripped her spear and shield with a ferocity that betrayed her fury.

"They will pay," Pyrrha said, her voice a low growl. "For everything. For him."

Sun stepped forward, his staff pointed at the enemy, his face etched with seriousness. Nora and Ren flanked him, their weapons ready, their eyes locked on the enemy.

Cinder sneered, taking a few steps toward them, her allies following closely. Adam stood silent, his hand resting on Wilt, his mask hiding his expression. Tyrian cackled manically, moving his pincers in anticipation.

Only Raven remained unmoving, her eyes didn't leave the rubble, as her face began to show nervousness. Vernal, who was standing near her, glanced back at Raven wondering what is up with her leader.

"Look at you," Cinder taunted, her tone dripping with mockery. "Clinging to your pathetic hope. He's gone, and you're next. Do you really think you stand a chance against us?"

Tyrian's laughter grew louder, his voice laced with venom. "Oh, how delicious this is! The little lambs think they can avenge their fallen wolf. How delightful!"

Ruby's eyes burned brighter, her grip tightening on Crescent Rose. "You'll pay for what you've done."

Yang stepped forward, her voice a low, eyes burning red, dangerous growl. "We're not backing down. Not this time."

The two groups faced off, the air between them thick with tension. The battlefield was a storm waiting to break, the calm before an inevitable, explosive clash.

_______________________

Crimson stood amidst a grotesque battlefield, the ground beneath him soaked in blood and shattered bone. The air was thick with the metallic tang of iron, and the silence was broken only by the occasional crunch of broken fragments beneath his feet. Above him, the sky stretched in an oppressive black void, devoid of stars, save for a single moon. Its pale light bathed the world in an eerie glow, casting long, distorted shadows over the carnage.

Crimson knew this place. He remembered being here years ago, his eyes turning to the figure standing near him. Kokushibo stood there, staring at him, an air of malevolence surrounding him.

"You were defeated in the end—not by power or skill, but by a twisted memory," Kokushibo spoke slowly.

"Are you here to mock me? After everything I did, I failed yet again. I wanted to make a new life and honor the old, but all of it is ruined now," Crimson spoke calmly.

"You failed, true, but why would you think I am here to mock you? To bathe in your sorrow? To relish your misery?" Kokushibo spoke slowly, genuinely curious.

Crimson chuckled lightly and asked, "Then why?"

Kokushibo stared at him for a moment before speaking, "Where you go, I go."

He took a step forward.

"What you see, I see."

Another step.

"What you know, I know."

Another step.

"What you will be, I will be."

Another step.

"I am the mirror of you."

Another step.

"You are the mirror of me."

Another step.

"You are me."

Now the two stood face to face. Kokushibo drew his sword and stabbed it into the ground as he kept looking at Crimson.

"Ironic, don't you think?" Crimson spoke this time.

"The same hatred, the same person, the opposite reason. It is true, nothing changed" Kokushibo gave a rare malevolent chuckle.

Crimson looked up at the baleful moon, its light shifting to a deep, ominous red as if mirroring the blood beneath him. He took in the sight before closing his eyes, memories of every moment with his brother flooding his mind.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he opened them once more—now illuminated by the moon's crimson glow—and turned his gaze to Kokushibo, then to the sword. His hand slowly extended toward it as his eyes drifted downward to the blood pooling beneath him. In its dark, rippling surface, a reflection stared back—six golden eyes gleaming through the abyss.

"I am the reflection of everything I have become—the monster I have never been able to escape" Crimson spoke slowly, his voice was different.