RWBY: Moon Reflection-Chapter 105: The Assault Begins

As Crimson walked steadily toward the incoming Grimm, the air around Atlas felt electric, charged with tension and fear. Soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, eyes darting between the advancing horde and the lone figure marching toward it. From the command tower, Ironwood's voice echoed sharply across the battlefield through the communication lines.

"All units, hold the line! Do not engage until I give the order!" Ironwood commanded, his tone firm yet calm.

Simultaneously, the live feed split into two screens for the world to see. One showed the battlefield from Ironwood's vantage point, high above the western front, capturing the disciplined ranks of soldiers, the ominous storm cloud of Grimm in the distance, and the colossal whale-like creature descending toward the kingdom. The other focused solely on Crimson Rose, his steady gait captured by the communication device recording everything from his perspective. The contrast was striking: the coordinated forces of Atlas, braced for battle, and one man walking alone into the dark storm ahead.

The tension in the air tightened as the whale arrived. It descended like an omen of death, landing with an earth-shaking impact on the edge of the floating city. The ground beneath Atlas trembled violently, and many soldiers stumbled, struggling to stay upright. The sheer size of the creature was overwhelming, its grotesque form radiating malice and dominance.

Crimson, however, remained unfazed. His walk never faltered, his steps unwavering despite the chaos unfolding around him. Reaching for the hilt of his sword, he drew it with a fluid motion, the blade gleaming even under the grim skies.

Then, in a flash, he moved.

Crimson accelerated to his maximum speed, his figure becoming a blur on the feed. The camera struggled to follow him as he dashed straight toward the Grimm. Gasps filled the airwaves as the world watched him charge into the heart of the enemy forces, alone.

Atop the massive whale, the octopus-like Grimm began to slither forward. Its grotesque tentacles twitched menacingly as it shot out masses of black ichor onto the ground below. From the oozing puddles, an army of Grimm began to emerge—Beowolves, Beringels, and even Nevermores clawed their way into existence, their forms blending into the darkness surrounding them.

The soldiers watching from the line felt their hearts seize. It was madness—a single man against such overwhelming odds.

And then Crimson struck.

The world held its breath as his blade moved faster than the eye could follow. The camera caught only brief flashes of steel, barely able to keep up with the speed of his attacks. From a distance, dozens of crescent moon-shaped energy slashes erupted across the battlefield, each one carving through swarms of Grimm. The dark army was obliterated at a pace unheard of, each swing of Crimson's blade unleashing a vortex of destruction.

He was unstoppable.

Even the most seasoned soldiers stared in awe as the lone warrior carved his way through the horde, his movements precise and deadly. The battlefield was alive with the flashes of his attacks, the Grimm falling in droves. Yet, he pressed on, undeterred by their numbers.

As Crimson closed in on the octopus-like Grimm, the world watched in silence, their eyes glued to the broadcast. He reached for his side, pulling out a cane he had carried unnoticed until now. With one swift motion, he pointed it directly at the massive Grimm.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze. Then, blinding light followed by an explosion tore through the air, its deafening roar shaking the very foundation of Atlas. The shockwave reverberated across the battlefield, leaving soldiers and civilians alike momentarily stunned.

When the dust settled, the battlefield grew silent. The octopus-like Grimm was no more, its twisted remains disintegrating into the air. Crimson stood amidst the dissipating ashes, his blade still in hand, his resolve unbroken.

The feed cut back to Ironwood, who leaned forward slightly, his voice ringing out with commanding authority.

"The octopus-grimm is down!! All units, keep holding the lines! Prepare for stage two!"

Back on the battlefield, Crimson turned his gaze toward the massive whale looming ahead. Without hesitation, he began his charge once more, his figure becoming a blur against the ominous backdrop.

The Grimm whale roared as its massive mouth opened, disgorging an unrelenting tide of Grimm. Beowolves, Creeps, and winged monstrosities poured out like a living flood, their claws and fangs seeking to tear apart anything in their path. Yet Crimson did not falter. His pace remained steady, each step radiating unshakable determination.

With a flash of his blade, he tore through the advancing horde, his attacks relentless and precise. Crescent-shaped energy slashes erupted from his swings, carving through dozens of Grimm in one motion. Blood and ash scattered in his wake as he pressed forward, reaching the base of the colossal whale.

Without hesitation, Crimson leapt onto the creature's grotesque hide, his speed turning him into little more than a blur as he scaled its massive body. Grimm claws reached for him, but they were cut down before they could so much as graze him. Reaching the top of the whale, Crimson didn't slow. His blade struck like lightning, carving through the creature's thick hide as he drilled his way inside.

The world watched in stunned silence as the feed captured Crimson's descent into the beast. He fell into darkness, landing with a soft thud in what appeared to be an enormous chamber. The walls pulsed with a sickly, organic glow, and at the center of the room was a throne, twisted and blackened like something out of a nightmare. Sitting upon it, with her glowing crimson eyes piercing the gloom, was Salem herself.

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Salem's gaze was cold and unyielding as she observed Crimson, her pale form exuding an aura of malice. But Crimson simply smiled, a sharp, almost taunting expression. He began to walk toward her, his tone casual as he said, "Nice to finally meet you in person. I must admit, you look... smaller and far less intimidating like this."

Salem rose from her throne, her movements slow and deliberate. She stepped down from the dais, her presence commanding despite Crimson's taunts. Her voice was calm but carried an edge as sharp as a blade.

"Since our little chat in Ironwood's office, I've been looking forward to meeting you," she said, her steps measured.

Crimson continued forward, undaunted, his every move deliberate. "Well, I hope I don't disappoint. Was the welcoming gift to your liking? It was an old creation of dear Ozma, one of a kind" he replied with a wry smile.

Salem stopped a few paces away, her glowing eyes narrowing as she spoke with venom in her voice. "You are daring. Even now, you still have no fear of me."

Crimson mirrored her stop, tilting his head slightly. "I told you already. I don't fear you. If anything, I pity you."

Salem's expression darkened. She raised her hand, and black tendrils erupted from the ground, grabbing hold of Crimson and locking him in place. He glanced down briefly, then back up at her, his smile unbroken.

"When we first spoke, I told you one thing," Salem said, dark energy crackling in her palm. "When we finally met, I would kill you."

She unleashed a burst of dark energy, a searing beam of death hurtling toward Crimson. But with a swift slash of his blade, the tendrils binding him were severed, and he sidestepped the attack with ease. In the same motion, he sent a crescent slash toward Salem, the energy so fast and precise that her head was severed before she could react.

Crimson stood casually, watching as her body crumbled to dark fluid and then began to reform. Without a word, he turned and walked past her, stepping onto the dais where her seat of power stood.

As Salem's body fully reformed, her gaze burned with hatred. Crimson turned to face her, leaning lightly against the throne. His expression was calm, but his words carried an ominous weight.

"I admit that beating you in the land of darkness is near impossible, but you delivered yourself to us" he said with a smirk, "I apologize in advance, for what I'm about to put you through."

Beside him, a glowing red portal opened, its swirling energy illuminating the grotesque chamber. From within the portal emerged a strange device, intricate and advanced in its design. Crimson placed his hand on it, his tone casual but deadly serious.

"This," he said, gesturing to the device, "was created with the most advanced technology in Atlas. The most sophisticated bomb in the world."

For the first time, Salem's expression shifted, her confident facade cracking. Crimson's smirk grew as he stepped through the portal without a second glance.

The feed cut to the battlefield outside as Crimson reappeared between the army's front lines. A moment later, a massive explosion rocked Atlas, the shockwave visible even from a distance. The whale, along with its dark master, was consumed in a blinding flash of light.

Crimson stood silently, his blade at his side, as the explosion's aftershock settled. Around him, the soldiers stared in awe, the battlefield quiet save for the crackle of dissipating energy. The world watched in stunned silence as the man who had walked into the darkness emerged victorious.