RWBY: Moon Reflection

Six years had passed since Summer's return. In that time, the world had changed drastically, and for once, the changes were for the better. Atlas, once a kingdom reduced to rubble by war and chaos, had risen from its ashes. The reconstruction efforts spearheaded by the combined might of the united kingdoms had paid off in record time. Towering skyscrapers and advanced infrastructure now stood as a testament to resilience and determination. Solitas, the frozen continent, had remained grimm-free since the battle. This unprecedented peace turned it into a beacon of hope, attracting migrants from all over Remnant seeking safety and opportunity.

Elsewhere, Vale had nearly recovered fully, bustling once more with life and energy. Mistral, however, continued to struggle with a shortage of huntsmen. Yet, with the world's unity, reinforcements often arrived to assist the kingdom in its darkest moments, ensuring it would not falter.

Amidst this new world, families had found new beginnings. Taiyang had moved to Atlas, living with Yang and Raven under the same roof. Their home was a blend of old memories and new routines. Ruby, Summer, and Qrow had also decided to live together, finding solace in each other's company and the semblance of normalcy it brought.

Crimson and Pyrrha, however, had perhaps the most memorable moment of the last five years. Their wedding had been nothing short of legendary. The entire kingdom of Atlas celebrated, the event broadcast across Remnant, even to Salem's cell. Salem, confined but human once more, had watched the celebration quietly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Despite the differences between them, Crimson continued his daily visits to Salem. Their conversations and storytelling sessions had become a ritual, one that both seemed to cherish in their own way.

A year after their wedding, Crimson and Pyrrha welcomed a daughter into the world. They named her Scarlet, after her brilliant red hair that mirrored her mother's. Scarlet became the light of their lives, and the family grew closer, their happiness radiating like a warm beacon in the coldness of Atlas.

But today, that light seemed to flicker with the weight of an unexpected request.

Salem had asked Crimson to find Ozma.

Seated in her cell, Salem's expression was calm yet earnest. "I wish to speak with him," she said softly. "Please bring him to me."

Crimson had studied her for a long moment before nodding. "I'll find him," he said simply, though the task itself would be anything but.

_________________________

Crimson found Oscar sitting alone in a quiet, dimly lit corner of a small tavern. Five years had changed the boy. He was older now, his once-youthful features hardened by time and the burdens of his shared soul. A glass of amber liquid sat before him, untouched but glimmering under the faint light.

Crimson approached with his usual quiet confidence, his presence enough to make Oscar glance up.

"Crimson," Oscar greeted, his voice weary but steady.

"Hello, Oscar," Crimson said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. "Or should I call you Ozpin?"

Oscar—or Ozpin—sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Oscar is gone," he admitted, his tone heavy. "I've... become Ozpin now."

Crimson nodded slowly, his crimson eyes softening. "I'm sorry for your loss, then," he said sincerely.

Ozpin looked at him, surprised by the sentiment, but said nothing.

Crimson continued, his voice calm and direct. "Salem asked to see you. She wants to talk."

Ozpin stiffened at the mention of her name, his eyes widening in shock. "She what?"

"She wants to talk," Crimson repeated, his gaze unwavering.

For a moment, Ozpin said nothing, his mind racing. Then, with a heavy breath, he stood. "Lead the way."

_________________________

The walk to Salem's cell was silent. When they arrived, Crimson opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Ozpin to enter.

Inside, Salem sat waiting.

Ozpin froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes took her in. This was not the Salem he remembered. Gone was the monstrous figure, replaced by the woman he had once loved—a human once more. The sight stunned him, rendering him speechless.

Crimson stepped back, giving them space. "I'll leave you two to talk," he said quietly, closing the door behind him.

_________________________

When Ozpin emerged from the cell, his face was pale, his expression one of disbelief and raw emotion. Tears stained his cheeks, his usually composed demeanor completely shattered.

Crimson stood waiting, his crimson eyes scanning Ozpin's face but saying nothing.

Ozpin finally spoke, his voice trembling. "She... apologized," he said, barely above a whisper. "For everything. For her actions. And she... forgave me for mine. She said she doesn't hate me anymore."

The weight of those words seemed to crush him further. Without another word, Ozpin turned and left, his steps unsteady as he disappeared down the hallway.

Crimson watched him go, his expression unreadable. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped back into the cell.

Salem was sitting where he had left her, a faint smile on her lips.

"I take it that went well," Crimson said, his tone light.

She nodded, her smile growing. "It did. I feel lighter" She paused, then added, "I wish to see the city. And your family."

Crimson blinked, caught off guard by the request. He studied her for a moment before nodding. "Wait here."

He returned a short while later with a coat. Handing it to her, he said nothing as he opened the door and gestured for her to follow.

_________________________

The soldiers stationed outside the prison were immediately on edge at the sight of Salem walking freely beside Crimson. Some raised their weapons, others stepped forward to block their path.

But Crimson gave them a single, sharp look. The air grew heavy, and the soldiers froze in place, their instincts screaming at them to stand down.

Without a word, Crimson and Salem passed through, leaving the soldiers scrambling to report the incident.

_________________________

The report reached Ironwood swiftly, and his reaction was immediate.

"Crimson freed Salem?" he said, his voice sharp with alarm.

"Yes, General," Winter confirmed.

Ironwood's mind raced. "Call the Ace Ops and any trusted huntsmen we have available. Contact Qrow as well. I want eyes on them immediately."

"Shall we stop them?"

"No," Ironwood said firmly. "Do not. Just observe. I trust Crimson, but Salem..." He trailed off, his expression darkening. "She's not someone I can trust. I'm afraid she may be using his kindness against him."

With that, orders were given, and the watch for Crimson and Salem began—not to fight, but to watch, to ensure the safety of Remnant hung in the balance.

_________________________

Salem walked beside Crimson, her gaze darting from one building to the next, taking in the sights with a soft smile. The city was alive with activity—people moving about, vendors calling out their wares, and children laughing as they played. The sight seemed to leave her in awe, her expressions shifting between quiet joy and wistful longing.

As they walked, some of the citizens noticed Crimson, their faces lighting up in recognition. "Specialist Rose!" a shopkeeper greeted warmly. "Out for a stroll?"

Crimson nodded with a small smile. "Just showing a friend around," he replied, motioning subtly to Salem.

The shopkeeper's eyes shifted to Salem, curiosity evident. "Friend, huh? Haven't seen her before."

"She's new," Crimson said simply, avoiding any mention of Salem's name. He kept walking, leaving the conversation behind.

From one street to another, they wandered the city, with Salem quietly observing the life around her. At times, she would pause to take in the sight of children playing or couples walking hand in hand, her smile growing softer with each moment.

Crimson noticed the eyes watching them from distance. He knew Ironwood's men were following them, and as the day went on, the number of observers increased. Soldiers and huntsmen alike kept a cautious distance, their presence a constant reminder of the mistrust Salem carried with her.

By the time the sun began to set, Crimson led Salem to his home. He opened the door and called out, "Pyrrha, can you bring Scarlet outside?"

From within, Pyrrha's voice came, cheerful and unaware. "Coming!"

When she stepped out, Scarlet in her arms, her eyes fell on Salem. Pyrrha froze mid-step, her body tense and her expression a mixture of shock and alarm. Scarlet, however, wriggled out of her mother's arms, her innocent curiosity driving her toward her father.

Crimson, standing calmly beside Salem, smiled at his daughter. "Scarlet, come meet a friend of mine," he said gently.

Pyrrha hesitated, instinctively wanting to pull Scarlet back, but a single look from Crimson stopped her. His crimson eyes were steady and filled with a silent reassurance. Reluctantly, she let her daughter walk forward.

From a distance, Qrow, Ruby, Summer, Ironwood, and several huntsmen watched the scene unfold. Tension rippled through the air, especially as the little girl approached Salem. Some instinctively moved closer, their hands hovering near their weapons.

Scarlet stopped in front of Salem, her bright eyes wide with curiosity. Salem knelt down, her smile soft but trembling. As she looked into the little girl's face, tears began to well in her eyes.

Scarlet tilted her head, confused. "Why are you crying?" she asked, her small hand reaching out to wipe away Salem's tears.

Salem's composure broke entirely. She pulled Scarlet into a gentle hug, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed openly. The sound of her cries echoed in the evening air, startling those watching.

Crimson stood by, his expression calm but warm, as though he had been expecting this moment all along.

Then, something extraordinary happened. A faint, radiant light began to emanate from Salem, surrounding her like a soft halo. Her sobs quieted, and she looked at Crimson, her face filled with a peace she hadn't known in millennia.

"Thank you," she said, her voice steady and sincere. "For everything."

Crimson smiled gently. "It was my pleasure knowing you, Salem," he said softly. "I'll miss our talks. I wish you eternal peace."

Salem's body began to dissolve into the light, her form flickering like a candle before disappearing entirely. The glow lingered for a moment before fading into the twilight, leaving nothing behind but the memory of her presence.

Scarlet looked up at her father, her small face filled with wonder. "Daddy, where did the aunt go?"

Crimson knelt down and scooped her into his arms. "She got tired, Scarlet," he explained. "She went to rest."

Scarlet frowned slightly. "But why did she glow like that?"

Crimson chuckled softly, brushing a strand of her red hair aside. "Because she was a nice person," he said simply.

The people watching from the distance stood in stunned silence, their hearts heavy with a mixture of emotions.

Crimson carried Scarlet back to Pyrrha, gently placing the girl in her arms. Pyrrha's expression was a mix of relief and confusion, but she said nothing, her trust in Crimson overriding her doubts.

Crimson turned to the crowd that had gathered, his eyes meeting Ironwood's. The general, along with Qrow and Ruby, looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"I'm going to make a grave for Salem," Crimson announced firmly, his voice carrying a weight of finality. "And I'll hold a funeral for her."

Ironwood opened his mouth to speak, but Crimson continued before he could.

"Once the funeral is done," Crimson said, his eyes sharp and determined, "we're going to start clearing this world of the Grimm. All of them."

Without waiting for a response, Crimson turned and began to walk away, his steps steady and purposeful. Despite the lingering tension, there was a sense of peace around him, a quiet joy that Salem had finally found her rest.