RWBY: Moon Reflection

The girls at the base of the tower could only stare in frozen horror. The massive Grimm before them was unlike anything they had ever seen. Its hulking body radiated an oppressive presence, its wings stretched wide enough to blot out the moonlight. The jagged mask on its face gleamed in the dim light, an unnatural glint of malice in its hollow eyes. Weiss took a step back, her composure cracking. "We have to leave! Now!" she screamed, her voice trembling.

Ruby's fists clenched. "We can't just leave Crimson up there!" she protested, though deep down, fear gripped her heart. They were in no condition to fight, barely able to stand after the battle with Cinder's forces. But as much as Ruby hated it, she knew Weiss was right.

From above, the dragon's guttural roar shattered the air, shaking the ground beneath them.

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At the top of the crumbling tower, Crimson stood unmoving, his expression calm and cold as he stared down the enormous creature. Behind him, Cinder's mangled body lay motionless, a testament to his fury. The dragon's presence didn't faze him; his narrowed eyes focused on the grimm as if sizing up his next prey.

The beast roared again, louder this time, its massive jaws opening as it unleashed a deafening cry. The sound reverberated across the school, and the remaining top of the tower crumbled under the sheer force. Crimson wasted no time. The moment the debris began to fall, he charged forward at full speed, leaping into the air. With a single, powerful strike, he drove his blade into the dragon's eye.

The creature screeched in agony, its massive tail smashing through the remains of the tower. As the structure gave way completely, the dragon spread its wings, soaring upward in a desperate attempt to escape.

Crimson wasn't about to let it go. With a swift jump, he landed atop the creature's head, steadying himself against the rush of wind. He immediately began slashing at its bony mask, his blade striking with precision. Each blow resounded like metal striking stone, but the armor was too tough—his attacks left barely a scratch. Frustrated but undeterred, Crimson adjusted his strategy.

He moved using the creature's horns as leverage to reach its unprotected back. His blade gleamed as he unleashed a flurry of slashes, each one carving deep into the softer flesh beneath the dragon's scales. The massive Grimm writhed in pain, its movements erratic as it tried to shake him off.

The dragon climbed higher into the sky, but Crimson's relentless assault forced it into a nosedive. Screeching in fury and pain, the beast careened toward Beacon's main building. Crimson braced himself as the creature crashed into the structure with devastating force. The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, shattering windows and leveling entire sections of the school.

Inside, Crimson tumbled from the dragon's back, landing in a dimly lit chamber. As he rose to his feet, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. His eyes widened when he recognized where he had landed: the school's Dust storage facility.

The dragon loomed over him, its hollow eyes burning with rage. It reared back and opened its mouth, flames beginning to gather in its throat.

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Outside, students had gathered, watching the destruction in wide-eyed terror. Ruby, Weiss, and Pyrrha were among them, their hearts pounding as they took in the sight of Beacon's main building collapsing. Ruby's hands trembled as she whispered, "Crimson..." Her voice was filled with fear for her brother.

Their worry turned to outright dread when an enormous explosion rocked the ground. Flames erupted from the center of the building, followed by the dragon's tortured roar.

The monster emerged from the flames, its massive body wreathed in fire. Around it, the towers that had once stood tall began to crumble, collapsing in the wake of its destruction. The Grimm spread its wings, its hulking form preparing to take flight once again.

Then, to their amazement, they saw him. Crimson sprinted along the edge of a crumbling tower. As the structure gave way beneath him, he leaped into the air, landing on the dragon's back once more.

Ruby gasped, her heart caught between awe and terror. "He's... he's still fighting," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

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The dragon roared in agony as Crimson resumed his attack, his blade striking with relentless precision. The students watched, frozen in awe, as the battle continued in the skies above them. Each strike from Crimson seemed to push the beast closer to its limits.

As the creature soared toward Vale, its cries of pain echoed across the whole city. Then people all over the city watched the dragon's left wing suddenly buckle. A clean, precise slash severed it from the creature's body.

With a deafening roar, the massive Grimm plummeted from the sky, crashing into the ground far in the distance. For a moment, there was silence—then another explosion erupted where the dragon had fallen, shaking the earth beneath their feet.

The students stared in silence, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed. Ruby's eyes remained fixed on the horizon, her heart pounding in her chest. "Crimson..." she whispered again, her voice filled with fear.

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Crimson rose slowly from the rubble, his body battered and bleeding. The second explosion had flung him into yet another pile of debris, leaving him bruised and singed. Wiping the dust from his face with the back of his hand, he cursed under his breath. "Falling into Dust storage twice in one fight? My luck really is rotten today," he muttered, spitting out a bit of blood.

As he steadied himself, a guttural, pained roar reached his ears. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the massive dragon Grimm, lying in the distance. The once-mighty beast struggled to rise, but its movements were sluggish. The combination of its crash, the explosion, and Crimson's earlier attacks had taken a severe toll. Half of its neck dangled unnaturally, partially severed and barely attached.

Despite its injuries, the dragon wasn't finished. It clawed at the ground, attempting to lift itself once more. Crimson's expression hardened. "Not happening."

With a burst of energy, he dashed forward. Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon - Incessant. His blade sliced through the air, carving deep into the dragon's throat, severing tendons and muscle. Without hesitation, he followed with the Third Form, a series of devastating arcs that finished the job. The massive head of the dragon Grimm fell to the ground with a resounding thud, its weight shaking the battlefield.

As the final blow landed, Crimson felt the blade in his hand shatter. Penny's sword, the weapon that had carried him through this grueling fight, finally gave out, splintering into pieces as if to signal the end of its duty. Crimson dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, his body screaming in exhaustion.

Minutes later, a familiar voice broke through his haze.

"Crimson!"

He looked up to see Qrow, Glynda, Ironwood, and Cardin approaching, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief. They had witnessed the massive Grimm plummeting from the sky, followed by the explosion, and had rushed to the scene. Now, seeing Crimson standing amid the wreckage of the colossal dragon, they began to piece together how the creature had met its end.

Crimson pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. Just as he began to steady himself, the dragon's corpse burst open. From the gaping wound, a massive Ursa Grimm charged forward, its eyes glowing with rage.

Weaponless and caught off guard, Crimson instinctively raised his arm to block the creature's jaws. The Ursa bit down hard, its fangs piercing his flesh, blood pouring from the wound. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Crimson reached with his free hand, snapping one of the jagged bones protruding from the Ursa's back. With a furious roar, he drove the bone into the Grimm repeatedly, stabbing it over and over until the creature went limp.

Crimson dropped the lifeless Ursa, blood dripping from his injured arm. Turning to face the group, he saw the horror etched on their faces. They stared at him as if he were a monster himself.

"Today's my worst day ever," he muttered, cursing loudly.

He tore off his jacket, ripping it into strips to bandage his bleeding arm. The group remained silent, watching as he worked with casual efficiency. Once the makeshift bandage was secured, Crimson spoke again, his tone blunt.

"Ozpin's dead. The school's gone, leveled while I was dealing with this thing," he said, pointing toward the massive corpse behind him. "But on the bright side, I killed Cinder and the White Fang operatives who stuck around."

The group's faces fell at the news. Glynda's usual composure cracked, and Qrow looked away, his jaw tightening. Even Ironwood seemed taken aback, his stoic mask faltering.

Crimson turned his attention to Cardin, his eyes sharp. "Hand over your mace," he ordered, extending his uninjured hand.

Qrow frowned, stepping forward. "Crimson, you are done. You are bleeding out, your aura's gone, and you have already done more than your fair share. You need to evacuate"

"I'm fine," Crimson replied curtly. "And I can't leave, even if I wanted to. Look up."

The group followed his gaze, and their blood ran cold. Above them, a swarm of griffon Grimm was descending, their screeches piercing the air. From behind, the unmistakable sound of more Grimm roars grew louder, echoing through the ruins of Beacon.

Crimson sighed, running a hand through his bloodied hair. "That big corpse of a dragon must have attracted every Grimm for miles," he said. "Figures. One thing after another"

He tightened the makeshift bandage around his arm and adjusted his stance, readying himself for the next fight. "Let's get this over with."

Crimson stepped forward, his battered form radiating power despite the blood seeping from his makeshift bandage. Without hesitation, he wrested the mace from Cardin's trembling hands. The young huntsman in training didn't resist, his exhaustion leaving him too weak to argue. "Stay behind me," Crimson ordered, his voice firm.

Then, turning his gaze to Qrow, he added, "We don't really have a choice. It's just a bad luck."

The weight of Crimson's words hit Qrow like a punch to the gut. His hands tightened into fists, guilt settling deep in his chest. But no one noticed him, they were too busy with the surrounding.

Crimson hefted the heavy mace, testing its weight with his non-injured arm. He turned to the group—Qrow, Glynda, Ironwood, and Cardin—all of them looking worse for wear. Even the seasoned veterans were visibly drained, their steps sluggish and their breathing labored.

"I'll take the charge," Crimson declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The rest of you follow behind me. We're breaking through by force and getting out of here."

No one protested. They couldn't. Glynda and Ironwood exchanged a weary glance but nodded. Cardin, barely has any strength left, gave a weak grunt of acknowledgement.

Crimson's eyes hardened. "Keep running. Don't stop for anything. We need to get away from this place."

The four nodded again, silently accepting his plan. With no other options, they fell in line behind him, their survival hinging on this one last push.

With a deep breath, Crimson charged forward, the mace swinging in brutal arcs. Despite his injuries and having no aura to protect him, his movements were as precise and deadly as ever. Each swing crushed through the oncoming Grimm like a hammer against glass, sending limbs and bone-like armor flying.

Behind him, Qrow, Glynda, Ironwood, and Cardin followed, their awe growing with every step. The Grimm came in relentless waves, yet Crimson tore through them with a ferocity that defied his battered state.

Qrow's thoughts churned as he ran. [If he wasn't dragging us along, he'd probably be long gone by now.]

Minutes dragged on like hours, but eventually, the group found themselves far from the heart of the chaos. The roars of Grimm grew fainter behind them, replaced by the labored breathing of those who had escaped.

Crimson finally slowed, his steps faltering. His chest heaved, his breathing ragged. Sweat and blood dripped from his body, and his grip on the mace slackened.

He stumbled, catching himself with the help of the weapon. "Looks like... I'm reaching my limit too," he muttered, his voice strained.

Before despair could settle in, the distant hum of engines caught their attention. Ironwood, sharp despite his exhaustion, looked up and spotted the source of the sound.

"An aircraft," he said, relief washing over him.

The craft approached quickly, its sleek design unmistakably Atlas-made. The emblem of the kingdom gleamed in the fading light, a welcome sight amidst the destruction.