RWBY: Moon Reflection

The living room was unnervingly quiet, save for the occasional clink of utensils against plates. Qrow sat at the edge of his chair, his brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to coax Ruby into eating. "Come on, kid. You've gotta get something in your system," he urged, his voice softer than usual. "You can't keep going like this."

Across the room, Weiss mirrored his efforts, her icy demeanor thawed by concern. "Ruby, please," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "At least drink some water."

Ruby sat motionless on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest. Her plate, untouched, rested on the coffee table. Her vacant eyes stared straight ahead, as though she hadn't even heard them.

On the other side of the room, Blake and Raven were engaged in a similar battle with Yang. Blake knelt beside her friend, her voice gentle yet firm. "Yang, you need to eat. You're no good to anyone like this."

Raven, uncharacteristically tender, sat beside her daughter, a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to Blake," she said quietly. "You have to take care of yourself."

Yang's head hung low, her hair obscuring her face. She didn't respond, her hands resting limply in her lap. Like Ruby, she hadn't touched her food or drink in days.

Watching from across the room, Pyrrha, Oscar, Pyrrha's mother, and Cheiron exchanged glances filled with pity. The sight of Ruby and Yang—once so full of life—reduced to hollow shells was unbearable for anyone who had known them.

The heavy silence was shattered by the sound of the front door slamming open. Ren and Nora burst in, Nora's voice loud and frantic. "We saw Jaune!" she cried, her face flushed from running. "He told us he saw Crimson!"

The room froze. All eyes turned to Nora as her words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

"What?" Qrow asked sharply, rising to his feet. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the pair. "What are you talking about? That's not funny."

"I'm not joking!" Nora exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Jaune said he saw Crimson walking toward the Military Base earlier today. He was sure it was him!"

Ren nodded, his expression grim. "Jaune seemed confident. He even mentioned Crimson had his semblance active—the flame markings on his face."

Cheiron folded his arms, his face etched with skepticism. "It's possible someone is impersonating him," he said cautiously. "We've seen things like this before."

Ruby, who had been staring at Ren and Nora with wide, disbelieving eyes, suddenly bolted upright. Without a word, she activated her semblance, a blur of rose petals streaking past the group and out the door.

"Ruby!" Qrow shouted after her, but she didn't stop.

Yang sprang to her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She hesitated for only a moment before dashing after her sister. "Ruby, wait!" she called, her voice breaking.

The rest of the group exchanged panicked glances before following suit. Blake, Weiss, Ren, and Nora rushed out the door followed by Qrow, their footsteps echoing as they sprinted after the sisters.

Left behind, Raven, Cheiron and Pyrrha's mother stood in silence, their expressions a mix of surprise and worry. Pyrrha's mother placed a hand on Cheiron's arm. "Do you think it's really him?" she asked quietly.

Cheiron sighed deeply, his eyes dark with concern. "I don't know."

_______________________

Crimson arrived at the imposing Atlas Military Base in Argus just as the gates began to close. His footsteps slowed as he stopped mere inches from the heavy, metallic barriers. Beyond the gate stood two Atlas soldiers, identical twins, clad in the gleaming white and blue Atlas military uniform. Their synchronized movements and identical expressions made them look more like mechanical constructs than humans.

The twins spoke in unison, their voices eerily similar. "The Atlas-Mistral border is closed indefinitely. Turn back."

Crimson raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his crimson eyes. He allowed a small smile to curl his lips. "Quite the coordinated act you've got there," he remarked, his tone light. "But I'm not here to sightsee. I'm here on General Ironwood's invitation. How about calling the person in charge so we can sort this out?"

The soldiers exchanged a brief glance before responding simultaneously, "Wait here. We will fetch the commander."

Their strange, synchronized humming accompanied their movements as they walked away, their identical steps and odd mannerisms drawing another quiet chuckle from Crimson.

Minutes later, the gates creaked open, revealing the two soldiers once more. They returned to their positions before him, snapping to attention. "Presenting the commander of this base," they intoned theatrically, "Atlas Special Operative Caroline Cordovin!"

Crimson's smile deepened as he took in the sight of Cordovin. The contrast was almost comical. She was a diminutive, elderly woman whose confident stance radiated authority, while the towering soldiers behind her looked like giants in comparison. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she caught his amused expression.

"What's so amusing, civilian?" she snapped, her voice firm and laced with irritation. "I am Caroline Cordovin, commander of this base and an operative of Atlas's elite forces. State your purpose quickly, or your intrusion will result in consequences."

Crimson inclined his head slightly, his smile never faltering. "Crimson Rose," he said smoothly. "General Ironwood invited me to Atlas. I suggest you verify with him directly."

Cordovin crossed her arms, glaring up at him. "The general is far too busy to extend personal invitations to civilians. Lying about such matters is punishable by law."

"Understandable," Crimson replied, unfazed. "Caution is important. But if you're cautious, you will confirm my story with General Ironwood."

Her sharp gaze turned colder. "You don't get to tell me what to do," she said, her voice rising slightly. "I will not bother the general with something so trivial. Atlas has protocols."

Crimson sighed, shaking his head as if dealing with a stubborn child. "Fine. You've got three days. Contact the general, or don't. It's your choice. But I'd hate to see someone in your position punished for insubordination."

Cordovin bristled, her face reddening at his audacity. Before she could retort, Crimson turned on his heel and walked away, his movements as calm and measured as his words.

She watched his retreating figure, her hands clenching into fists. The sheer confidence in his demeanor gnawed at her. Was he bluffing? Or did he truly know the general? Cordovin huffed, her pride warring with her instincts. She glanced at the twins, who stood silently, their expressions unreadable.

"Run a background check on Crimson Rose," she ordered sharply. "I want every detail."

The twins saluted in unison and marched off to carry out her command. As Cordovin stared at the path he'd taken, unease crept into her thoughts. Something about the young man's unwavering confidence made her hesitate.

"I'll get to the bottom of this," she muttered, turning to head back inside.

_______________________

Crimson walked back toward the city, his boots crunching softly against the gravel of the well-worn path. The encounter at the Atlas base didn't linger in his mind, he quickly dismissed it as a minor inconvenience. Three days, he thought. That should be enough time for the proud little commander to verify his identity. Whether she acted on his advice or not didn't bother him much. What mattered was staying the course.

As he arrived back to the city of Argus, his focus shifted back to his immediate surroundings. The streets were alive with activity—vendors calling out to passersby, children darting between stalls, and the aroma of freshly cooked street food wafting through the air. It was a welcome contrast to the cold sterility of the Atlas military.

But as Crimson turned a corner, the bustling sounds of the city seemed to fade. From behind a nearby alley, Ruby rushed out and came to an abrupt stop, her silver eyes locking onto him. She froze mid-step, her expression one of disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

Crimson halted, he showed a surprised expression before offering her a small smile. "Ruby?" he called, his voice calm but curious.

She didn't respond. Her red-rimmed eyes widened further, and he noticed the dark circles beneath them, the weariness in her posture. Her usual liveliness was gone, replaced by an exhaustion that made his stomach twist with unease.

"Ruby," he called again, this time his tone carrying a thread of worry.

Her only response was a choked cry of his name before she ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. She sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, her small frame trembling with each breath.

Caught off guard, Crimson hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on her back, patting her gently. His voice softened as he spoke, "It's okay, Ruby. Whatever's going on, I'm here. We'll figure it out."

Her tears only flowed harder at his words, and Crimson's concern deepened. He didn't know what had happened in his absence, but it was clear his sister was in distress.

Incoming footsteps and murmurs caught his attention. He glanced up to see Yang and the others rounding the same corner. Their expressions were a mirror of Ruby's—troubled, tired, and full of sorrow. Yang's usually fiery demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by the same exhaustion and despair that Ruby wore.

"Yang," Crimson began, his confusion and worry growing. "What happened to all of you while I was away?"

Yang didn't answer. She ran to him, joining Ruby in the hug, her voice breaking as she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Crimson's brows furrowed as he looked over their heads at the rest of the group. Weiss, Blake, Pyrrha, and Nora were wiping away tears, while Qrow stared at him with a dazed expression. Ren stood apart from the others, his face conflicted as if wrestling with a decision. Finally, Ren spoke, his voice hesitant but clear.

"Crimson... didn't you... move on to the afterlife after killing your demon?"

Crimson froze, his confusion giving way to shock. His eyes scanned their faces. "The afterlife?" he repeated, his voice low. "How do you know about that?"

The question hung in the air, the weight of it settling heavily over the group.