RWBY: Moon Reflection-Chapter 118: Hate & Peace

The air around the castle was heavy, an oppressive darkness that seemed to sink into their very bones. Without hesitation, Crimson took the lead, walking ahead of the group with his sword in hand. His steps were steady and purposeful, his eyes scanning every shadow and corner of the decrepit hallway. The others followed close behind, their expressions a mixture of determination and unease.

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Ruby couldn't help but glance nervously at the gloomy walls. The castle felt alive, its dark, twisted architecture pressing in on them. Her grip on Crescent Rose tightened. "This place is huge," she muttered. "Searching it is going to take forever."

From the front, Crimson's voice cut through the silence, calm and resolute. "No, it won't," he said without turning back. "Salem told me our mother is beneath the castle. We just need to find the stairs."

Ruby blinked, startled by his confidence. The others exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. It was clear Crimson wasn't guessing—he knew exactly where they were headed.

They pressed on, the eerie silence broken only by the faint echo of their footsteps. Barely a few minutes passed before they reached a grand staircase leading down into the depths of the castle. The steps were carved from black stone, worn and cracked with age. A faint, ominous glow emanated from below, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Crimson descended first, his sword held at the ready. The rest of the group followed cautiously, their weapons drawn. The air grew colder and heavier with each step, and an unnatural stillness settled over them.

At the bottom of the stairs, the faint glow revealed a wide, open chamber. The walls were lined with jagged, crystalline formations that pulsed faintly with a sickly light. The floor was uneven, covered in a thin layer of ash. In the center of the chamber, waiting for them, were several Alpha Beowolf Grimm. Their glowing red eyes locked onto the intruders, and low, guttural growls filled the air.

The group tensed, preparing for a fight, but Crimson didn't slow down and kept walking as if no grimm stood there. Before anyone could say anything, the first Alpha Beowolf lunged at Crimson with terrifying speed. Crimson's movements were faster. With a sharp, precise swing of his sword, he cut through the Grimm mid-air, its body disintegrating into ash before it even hit the ground.

The rest of the group stared in awe before finally lowering their weapons. Qrow muttered, "In retrospect, we should've just let Crimson come here alone and teleported to him. This is no different from a walk in the park for him."

The others nodded in reluctant agreement, but Crimson didn't pause. "Keep moving. We're getting close," he said, his voice calm. The group's expressions grew more serious as they followed.

The air grew heavier as the group ventured deeper into the dungeon-like chambers, the oppressive atmosphere thick with the stench of decay. Along the way, they passed by rows of rusted bars and sealed doors, each one hiding behind it a horrific sight—bones and corpses in varying states of decay. The clothing on these remains was from different eras, some ancient, some more recent, a grim testament to the centuries of cruel experiments and torture Salem had orchestrated in this desolate place.

Ruby's steps faltered as she took in the macabre scene, her hands trembling. "How could anyone do something like this?" she whispered, her voice quivering with anger and sorrow.

No one responded. Crimson, walking at the front, pressed forward with unnerving calm, his expression stoic and unreadable. The rest of the group followed, uneasiness etched into their faces. Every step felt heavier than the last, the silence broken only by the sound of their boots echoing against the stone floor.

Finally, they reached the deepest chamber, a grotesque sight awaiting them. The room pulsed with an eerie orange light emanating from Grimm-like vines that coiled and twisted across the walls and ceiling. In the center of the pulsating mass was Summer Rose, her body suspended grotesquely by the vines. They pierced her flesh, wrapping around her like a predator devouring its prey.

Ruby gasped and fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "Mom..." she choked out, her voice barely audible.

Ren turned away, his face pale, while Raven's gaze hardened, though even she couldn't suppress a flicker of pain in her eyes. Qrow, however, stepped forward, his sword in hand. "I'm cutting her down," he growled, anger and desperation radiating from him.

"Stop," Crimson said firmly, raising a hand to halt Qrow in his tracks.

Qrow turned to him, his jaw clenched. "She's suffering! We can't just—"

"She's alive," Crimson interrupted, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. His eyes never left Summer as he stared at her with an intensity that silenced any further protests.

The group hesitated, torn between their desire to act and their trust in Crimson. Seconds stretched into what felt like eternity. Finally, Crimson broke the silence, his voice directed at Ruby. "Ruby, do you think you can use your eyes in your current state?"

Ruby wiped her tears, taking deep, shaky breaths to steady herself. She nodded. "I can... I'll do it."

Crimson nodded back. "Prepare yourself. I'll signal you when it's time."

He stepped closer to the grotesque mass, his blade already drawn. Without hesitation, he unleashed a flurry of crescent-shaped slashes, each one precise and deliberate, targeting key points on the vines. The room shook as the vines writhed and screeched in pain, the orange light dimming with every strike. Crimson paused, his stance steady as he surveyed his work.

"Now, Ruby!" he commanded.

Ruby focused, summoning every ounce of strength she had. Her silver eyes flared, and a blinding light engulfed the chamber. The radiance was so intense that everyone had to shield their eyes, the heat and purity of the light overpowering the darkness in the room.

When the light subsided, the group blinked, their vision slowly adjusting. Crimson stood at the center, holding Summer in his arms. Her body, no longer ensnared by the vile vines, seemed frail yet alive.

"Aunt," Crimson said, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation, "open a portal. Now."

Raven hesitated only for a moment before slicing the air with her sword, creating a swirling portal that connected them back to Atlas.

Without delay, the group stepped through the portal into the safety of the waiting room in Atlas. Yang, Weiss, Nora, and the others were already there, along with a medical team prepared for their return.

The moment they arrived, the medics rushed to Summer's side, carefully transferring her from Crimson's arms to a stretcher. Crimson stepped back, his usual calm demeanor unshaken, as he made room for the professionals to do their work.

Ruby, overwhelmed with emotion, clung to Qrow, tears streaming down her face. "Please... please save her," she cried, her voice cracking with desperation.

Qrow wrapped an arm around her, his own eyes glistening as he silently prayed for his love.

The others stood in tense silence, a mix of worry, fear, and hope etched into their faces.

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The air in the waiting room was heavy with tension. The medics worked quietly in the adjacent chamber, the faint beeping of medical equipment occasionally drifting into the room. Ruby sat beside Qrow, her eyes red from crying, clinging to the faint hope that her mother would recover. The others stood or paced in silence, their expressions grim, each lost in their thoughts.

Qrow, however, couldn't stay silent for long. His frustration bubbled to the surface, and he turned sharply to Crimson, his brows furrowed in anger and confusion. "Crimson," he began, his voice tight, "after everything we've seen... after seeing Salem's dungeon, your mother's state, and all the atrocities she's committed... do you not feel anything for her? Do you not feel any hate?"

The question cut through the room like a blade. Everyone turned to Crimson, their gazes filled with curiosity, unease, and in some cases, silent agreement with Qrow's sentiment. How could anyone not harbor hatred after witnessing such horrors?

But Crimson stood as calm as ever, his expression serene, as though the weight of the world had no bearing on him. His hands rested loosely by his sides, his gaze steady and calm.

"No," he said simply, his voice quiet yet firm. "I don't hate her."

The group exchanged glances, their confusion deepening. Qrow's frustration flared. "How can you say that? After everything she's done—everything she's done to you—how can you not hate her?"

Crimson exhaled softly and stepped closer, his calm demeanor making his presence feel all the more commanding. "Because hate solves nothing, dad," he replied. "It only destroys. Hate doesn't bring back what was lost. It doesn't heal wounds—it creates more."

Qrow crossed his arms, his scowl deepening, but he didn't interrupt. The others leaned in slightly, sensing there was more to Crimson's response.

"When I was younger," Crimson began, his tone steady and reflective, "I embraced my hatred. I moved and acted with hatred. I thought it was a fire that could burn away everything and help me move forward. But that fire only consumed me. It blinded me to everything, leaving me with nothing but misery."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, meeting each person's eyes. "I have learned that hate is a chain, one that binds you to the person or thing you despise. It keeps you trapped, unable to move forward. And in that chain, you lose yourself."

Qrow shifted uncomfortably, his expression softening but still troubled. "Then what? You're just supposed to forgive someone like Salem? After everything she's done?"

Crimson shook his head. "Forgiveness isn't the point. Understanding is."

He took a step closer, his voice gaining a quiet intensity. "I see Salem not as a monster, but as a person consumed by her own suffering. Everything she's done—the cruelty, the experiments, the pain—it all stems from her own despair. She's lost herself to the same cycle of hatred and vengeance that so many others fall into, that I fell into. If I hate her, I'm no different. If I hate her, I am blind. If I hate her, I lose my peace."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. For a moment, no one spoke.

Ruby wiped her eyes, her voice soft but steady. "So... what do you want to do? If you don't hate Salem, what's next?"

Crimson's gaze turned to the door where the medics were working on Summer. "I want to save the people I care about. To protect those I can. And if there's a way to stop Salem, it won't be through hate or vengeance. It will be through breaking the chains that bind her—and everyone else—to this endless cycle of suffering."

The room fell silent again, but this time it was a different kind of silence. There was no tension, no confusion—only a quiet sense of understanding, even if not everyone fully agreed.

Qrow sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You are too different from us, Crimson," he muttered, though his tone held a grudging respect. "But... maybe you're onto something."

Crimson didn't respond. He simply stood there, calm and resolute, waiting for the medics to bring news of Summer's condition. And though the wait continued, the weight of his words lingered, planting seeds of reflection in the hearts of everyone in the room. They began to understand the peace Crimson speaks of.