RWBY: Moon Reflection-Chapter 104: The Stand of Atlas

The evacuation effort in Atlas continued without pause. Dust-powered vehicles roared through the streets, ferrying civilians toward the eastern end of the kingdom. Soldiers directed frightened families into transports, their voices steady despite the chaos. The cold air was filled with the sound of clanking metal and hurried footsteps as huntsmen, Atlesian Knights, and human soldiers formed ranks on the western front.

Paladins—massive mechanized suits of armor—loomed in organized lines, their metal frames gleaming in the faint light of the early morning. Behind them, an array of soldiers and robots stood at attention, forming neat platoons. At the forefront of the defense, towering metal barriers had been rooted into the ground, creating a formidable line of protection. It was a sight both terrifying and awe-inspiring, a testament to the strength and discipline of Atlas in the face of impending annihilation.

High above it all, General James Ironwood stood in a tower overlooking the battlefield. His silhouette was stark against the gray skies, his face heavy with the weight of command. From this vantage point, he could see everything—the lines of soldiers, the barriers, the distant flicker of airships patrolling the skies. His gloved hand rested on the rail as his sharp eyes scanned the preparations.

He turned away, his cape billowing slightly in the wind, and faced a camera positioned a few feet away. The red recording light blinked to life, signaling that the broadcast was about to begin. Ironwood took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he steeled himself.

The broadcast went live.

"People of Remnant," Ironwood began, his voice firm yet calm. "This is General James Ironwood speaking from Atlas. I hadn't planned on addressing the world again so soon, but the situation has changed." He paused, his tone growing heavier. "Salem has brought the full force of her armies to Atlas. Her goal is simple: to destroy everything."

His words hung in the air like a death sentence. Across the world, screens displayed his image, his voice reaching every corner of Remnant.

"We knew this day would come," he continued, his expression grim. "We knew she would attack us eventually. But even we didn't expect it to be so soon. This proves one thing—Salem fears what we are capable of when we are united. She fears the hope we have inspired."

Ironwood closed his eyes briefly, his shoulders visibly tense. When he opened them again, his gaze burned with unwavering determination.

"And so, we will face her head-on," he declared, his voice growing stronger. "With the full might of Atlas. And we will broadcast this battle to the entire world. Not to spread fear, not to sow panic—but to show that this war can be fought. That it can be won."

The general leaned forward slightly, his fists clenched at his sides. "We have no intention of losing. Not with the lives of this kingdom—and of all Remnant—on the line. But even if the worst were to come, I want the world to remember this: as long as there is hope, as long as we are united, we can overcome anything."

His words carried a weight that resonated deeply with all who listened. Soldiers stood straighter. Civilians watching from safety zones held their loved ones closer. Across the world, eyes were fixed on the broadcast, their hearts caught between fear and inspiration.

"Today, Atlas stands against the enemy of mankind," Ironwood proclaimed. "We face the largest Grimm invasion in recorded history. And we will not waver."

The camera zoomed in slightly, capturing the fire in his eyes. "No matter what happens, let this day be a reminder to all of us. Let it be proof that even in the darkest of times, there is always light to guide us. That we are stronger together."

Ironwood straightened, his voice steady and resolute as he ended the broadcast. "I hope that, regardless of the outcome, the world will unite in a shared goal—a better future. For the survival of everyone. This is our stand. This is our fight. For Atlas, for Remnant, for hope."

The broadcast ended.

Ironwood exhaled slowly, his hands tightening on the railing as he looked out once more over the battlefield. Behind him, the tower was silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment. Below, the soldiers stood ready, their resolve mirroring the determination of their leader.

The stage was set, the battle looming on the horizon. Today, Atlas would fight not just for itself but for the future of all Remnant. And the world would be watching.

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Across the world, the broadcast from General Ironwood rippled through the hearts and minds of every soul in Remnant. People in bustling cities, small villages, and remote settlements alike stopped everything to watch. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, stirring a mixture of shock, fear, and tentative hope.

As Ironwood's solemn face disappeared from the screens, the footage transitioned to a new scene. The camera panned across a massive display of Atlesian power—a sprawling army of soldiers standing in perfect formation, Atlesian Knights gleaming under the gray skies, and warships hovering overhead in an intimidating show of force. Paladins stood like sentinels, their massive forms braced for the coming battle.

In the distance, however, a foreboding shadow loomed. The sky grew darker, a massive black cloud swirling ominously on the horizon. It wasn't just the weather—it was the unmistakable omen of destruction. Salem's forces were drawing closer.

In the crowded streets of Vale, the desert outposts of Vacuo, the mountainous villages of Mistral, and the coastal settlements of Menagerie, people stared at their screens in collective silence. Conversations halted. Children clung to their parents. Huntsmen and huntresses felt their hearts clench. And then, the dark cloud shifted, revealing something monstrous.

A massive, flying whale-like Grimm emerged from the shadow, its grotesque form carrying an air of pure malice. Atop its body sat a sprawling octopus-like Grimm, its tendrils twitching in a display of raw, unrestrained power. Though the footage was distant, there was no mistaking the sheer size of these creatures. They were Leviathan-class Grimm, monstrosities that dwarfed everything in their path.

The camera cut abruptly to a new figure. A young man stood before the gathered army, the wind tousling his jagged, flame-marked face. He wore the uniform of an Atlesian soldier, his sword strapped to his waist. Unlike Ironwood, whose worry was palpable, this man exuded an eerie calmness.

It was Crimson Rose.

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He stood in front of the massive army, his sharp eyes scanning the ranks. He could see them all—his sister, Ruby, and her team, Pyrrha and her team, the Ace Ops, and countless others. Each face was filled with fear, worry, and uncertainty. He could feel their anxiety like a tangible weight pressing down on the air.

Crimson stepped forward, his voice clear and resolute as it echoed through the field and across the broadcast.

"Many of you already know me," he began. "For those who don't, I am Specialist Crimson Rose from Vale. I joined Atlas for this war—not for glory, not for pride, but because the world depends on it. I am not alone in this. My family is here, among you. My friends from Mistral are here, among you. Today, we stand united—regardless of our origin, our race, or our status. We are here because we are alive."

The soldiers stiffened, their breaths steadying as his words reached them.

"Our enemy does not know fear," Crimson continued, his piercing gaze sweeping across the soldiers. "And those who cannot see the fear in death cannot understand what true strength is. You, all of you, are the strong ones. You took a stand. You chose to fight, not because you had to, but because you believed it mattered."

He turned and began walking toward the edge of the army's formation, his steps deliberate and steady. His voice carried on, unwavering.

"And remember this," he said, his tone growing softer yet more profound. "We have no control over who lives, who dies, or who will share our tale. What we do have control over is the action we take, over how we stand in the face of the impossible. Let the world watch and see who we are."

The soldiers stood frozen, their fear slowly giving way to resolve. Their eyes, once clouded with uncertainty, now burned with fighting intent. Crimson's words had lit a fire in their hearts.

As he walked alone toward the edge of the battlefield, toward the direction of the coming enemy, the camera followed him. Ruby, Pyrrha, and the others remained where they stood, watching with silent worry. Ruby's hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together, praying silently for his safety.

The world held its breath. Every person watching the broadcast understood that what was about to happen would be remembered in the annals of history. The largest battle Remnant had ever seen was on the horizon, and Crimson Rose, with his unnerving serenity, was walking straight into it.

The shadow of the Leviathan-class Grimm loomed closer, their monstrous forms growing larger with every passing second. The fate of Atlas—and perhaps all of Remnant—was about to be decided.