(Alphaxone – Long Eternity)
Before time and space came into existence, the almighty Creator had casted the fallen angels into the only place where His holy light was never meant to be present, as punishment for the vile sins His sons had sown upon mortalkind. Even then, even when His immortal sons were condemned for all eternity, there was still one spark left, one last chance for redemption, infinitely more demanding than any mortal had to go through.
The Creator, in His infinite wisdom, put one place inside Hell, open for everyone who, even after their condemnation, had enough heart left to ask for forgiveness. While part of Hell, it could be considered a pocket universe of its own, where the skies were crammed with majestic constellations and golden nebulae. Such a universe deserved to be the proud owner of a city built entirely out of gold, marble and precious gems, as a way to demonstrate the righteousness of the path the brave souls were about to take.
But nobody said that the path would be without its proper trials. No, the trials would be given by three Judges, entities whose judgements held as much authority as Creator's, with only the former capable of having the final word whenever He desired. Those three Judges had soon gathered the fame of being so cold and merciless in their decisions, that many decided that it just wasn't worth the trouble. Few knew what happened to those that failed.
After the Gates of Eternity were open, one would have to traverse a barrier made of golden light. Doing that, they would find themselves in front of statue of a winged humanoid, from whose vase flew purified water, something that couldn't be found in all of Hell. If the soul that sought redemption were that of a mortal, the first thing they would do was to throw their mouths and hands under the cold stream, to ease their suffering. At the same time, Hell's pressure on the soul would be reduced, although never removed. For Braylon, who was unlucky enough to fall into Hell with both body and soul, meant that his mind would be free from emotional and memetic bombardment that deadened all those qualities a human can possess. His body would stop telling him that he was under so much heat that it felt like he was burning alive and his lungs could finally get a taste of fresh, unpolluted air.
Better men would crumble into tears right there and then, but not Braylon. Despite enjoying all the perks of being free from an afterlife of torture, his mind was currently in another place, a Hell of his own if you will. He strode through the place without any unnecessary thoughts, even after passing by a golden tablet containing all the names of those few individuals that made it through their personal calvary, along with their fates after the trials.
The Final Tribunal. The holy place where the soul will feel the overwhelming presence of the Judges, represented by three massive statues, with the realization that they hold the keys to its fate. For the weakest of wills, the trial ends right there, unable to bear the might of their presence. For everyone else, it will be the moment when they meet each of the Judges.
The first and greatest Judge is Gedaliah the Purifier, taking the form of a bearded man holding a lantern and an open book. To his left rests Shanaan, Lord Accuser, as a giant eagle whose gaze can read every intention of those who take the trial. The third Judge is known as Ephron with the Heart of Gold. When Braylon stepped into their home, it was Gedaliah who spoke first.
"Wretched soul thirsting for redemption, I welcome you. By entering into this sacred place, you willingly subjected yourself to our scrutiny. With the Creator's permission, forever blessed be His name, we shall begin the trial for… Braylon… Monocriffe. May you find peace within yourself."
Every successful participant would describe Gedaliah's voice with the same words: if Creation could voice its disgust with the sin-stained soul, it would do it through Gedaliah. The sheer might behind the voice made every knee drop to the ground in supplication. Braylon was no different in that regard.
"A most curious case." Began Ephron, "You are the first mortal who reached the Peak while still being in possession of their body. This calls for a different approach…" Unlike Gedaliah, Ephron was soft-spoken yet authoritative.
"How hypocritical of you to come here, after having a whole life of opportunities to redeem yourself." boomed Shanaan, "You don't need to wait for death when you are this close to eternal damnation."
"Nevertheless," interrupted Gedaliah, "We will offer you one last chance as we did to everyone else. We will take into consideration your noble cause, itself the reason for your presence, even if your current heart's desire is a selfish one."
A bleat of three distant horns indicated the start of the first trial the Judges deemed fit. In this particular case, the floor detached itself from the rest of the building and descended into a ashen wasteland, under a sickly yellow sky. A breeze was the only source of sound in the whole area. In front of the platform stood a statue of Ephron.
"Peace be with you. Allow me to introduce you to the first trial. What you are looking at is a limbo where souls can find themselves, or be their own executioners. It is here that you will find the sacred peace required for a careful introspection. It will lead you through the ravines of your own wounded nature, through the mysterious labyrinths of temptation, back to the primordial fire that is the eternal gratitude known as love. So don't reject the desert, if you seek redemption, for it frees oneself from the world's maddening interference. Now go."
Where Souls Wither is the name of that wasteland, whose full meaning could be absorbed only after heading deeper into its embrace. Bones crunched under his feet, mixing with the ash and dust. Statues of figures far greater than him stared into nothingness, or maybe into the pits and shapes that were their sin-riddled beings. Those that failed to find themselves were, indeed, all around him, victims of self-execution. He even walked on them.
Like Uguruk the Usurper, an infamous tyrant that ruled whole nations with an iron fist. This elephantine being understood the weight of his actions in the painful afterlife that followed after his assassination, but was found wanting by the Judges, who made a sculpture in his image, either of him or from the ashes of those worse than him, possibly as extra motivation for other seekers.
Then there was Iblis, a murderer who took pleasure in torturing his victims before cutting them up. He was one of those men foolish enough to immediately seek redemption right after finding themselves in Hell, oblivious to the weight of his crimes against Creation. He didn't last long.
But neither of them were as impressive as the remains of an angelic being, kneeling and praying, so carefully preserved that one might think that its essence is still trapped inside that grotesque trophy to failure. The truth was far worse and only the Judges knew it.
Braylon tamed absent-mindedly dune after dune with a blatant disregard for his instinct of self-preservation. His desire to escape from Hell and his boiling rage carried him on even if he was in a different place.
He found a white tower half-buried in the ash. It resembled a giant lantern. Engraved on top of the entrance, a sign read "CLEAN YOURSELF".
Inside was empty, with just more ash like everywhere else. As soon as he got in, the tower closed itself off from the outside world, leaving Braylon inside a thick sea of darkness. Then, the whole tower caught fire, with him within. The searing flames that cleansed the vile sins from the soul overwhelmed the Vault Hunter, who had to endure one of the worst moments in his life.
(Mount Shrine – Subtotem)
Braylon returned to the Final Tribunal, where the Judges met with the indicted.
"We have cleansed your soul with our blessed fires. Since you came to us in the flesh, we will purge the ugly stains of sin from your body as well. Proceed to the gate."
A huge golden gate opened under the marble feet of the Lord Accuser, leading the Vault Hunter into a realm of brass and molten metal; a complex structure expanding for miles in each direction, resembling more a foundry than a place that carried the title of "Temple of Deliverance".
Braylon carried his body up to a hill and in front of a brass statue of Shaanan, far bigger and more imposing than its marble counterpart, with the wingspan of a building and a head whose glare would kill if it could.
"Nothing is more detestable than the mortal body. Nothing is so eager to indulge into sin as the mortal body. Lust of the body and of the mind. It is the main evil present in all of mortalkind. You, whose hands have bathed in the blood of thousands, whose legs were yearning to run where evil had an opportunity to present itself, now stand before me, Lord Accuser, your main obstacle on your way to redemption. What am I supposed to strike you with, that would turn your mind and heart away from sin? What maladies should I wreck you with, that would make you worthy of walking among the living again? Behold, I might have a solution."
Sizzling hot chains wrapped themselves around Braylon's arms and legs, melting his flesh as they lifted the body.
"We will begin by cleaning your body of the sin of murder, the most repetitive one. You will be whipped for each life you have taken."
So began the Vault Hunter's second calvary, the one of the body. Hook-tipped flails dug into his back, only to be forcefully ripped out with the intent of making as much damage as possible. By the time the number of hits were equalized with his body count, Braylon's back was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and stripes of skin.
"The sin of murder was successfully exorcised from your body, cursed be the spirit that brought it. However, there are multiple sins that flow in your blood, blood given to you from your ancestors. One of your parents murdered their way to the man that tried to kill them, bringing chaos and misery to their native land, only to aid some poor souls into committing war crimes all in the name of an idea. With their silver tongue they enticed another revenge-seeking soul into bombarding a land, painting it red with the blood of both criminals and innocents. The other parent is no better; a mercenary who justified their atrocities as the only way to earn for a living. Both of them carry sins from their parents and so on. Your whole tree is brimming with scum. I will drain that body of their cursed blood, may it never flow in your veins again."
Hundreds of pores opened on his body, leaking his blood to the last drop. When new blood started pumping through his veins, the pores were closed off one after another. The wounds on his back healed enough to prevent them from being fatal but not enough to stop being painful.
"Now we have to clean the stains made by all other sins you had commited during your life. I refuse to let you go until you pay for all your crimes."
Thus the Temple of Deliverance rang and creaked as the righteous torture continued.
"With our trials completed, we will now proceed with the final verdict for this case."
Gedaliah's statue slid closer while the other two moved backwards. Darkness descended upon the Final Tribunal, with a ray of light illuminating the central point of the structure from the ceiling, so that only Braylon and the Judge were visible.
"Braylon Monocriffe, human, from reality 1445453. We, the Judges, declare you absolved from your damnation, with the following sentence; you are to remain alive until the Final Judgement from the Creator, blessed be His name, where Death will flee from your presence no matter how much you will beg for its embrace. You will watch your loved ones return to the earth from which they were born, you will outlive your descendants and you will be witness to the final moments of many universes, with no one to hear your cries or cure your pains. Should you, under any circumstance, return to the Sin of murdering mortals, the one Sin so close to the hearts that dwell within your family, then you and all your relatives, past and future, will be cast into the Lake of Fire in those final days, along with all of His cursed angels and beings. The sentence cannot be removed by anyone, except the Creator Himself, whom we praise for giving us such noble duties. We will now bring you back to the world you left behind, along with the three souls you carry, for it is not their time yet. Go now and may you find peace within yourself."
Hours kept passing in the chaos that was Mountain Glenn. Its sick, transformed landscape was alien to everyone who knew the previous layout of the failed settlement. An earthquake that appeared every now and then would further reconfigure the death trap that was the city.
The stranger helped Ruby with the bodies of her teammates, bringing them to some ruins he deemed free from danger. He had to keep reassuring her that they weren't dead and that their souls would come back as soon as possible, something she had trouble believing no matter how much she wanted to.
She was far from the cheerful persona she used to have. Her clothes were stained and smelled awful, her hands trembled so much that even holding pebbles proved to be too stressful, her eyes couldn't be removed from her "sleeping" teammates. She tried to express her gratitude to the stranger, whose sorrowful sight filled her with gentle warmth, but the only things that came out of her mouth were sobs and jumbled words. Twice did Ruby vomit in a corner due to the smell of rotting cadavers that spread throughout the air.
After some time, before the sun began descending, they heard the roar of the engines of a whole fleet of vehicles. It was the military from Atlas, the same one that acted as an addition to the law enforcement of Vale. Ruby wondered why they decided to venture into Mountain Glenn, though she didn't have the strength or energy to come up with an answer.
By some miracle they landed right near her hiding spot, where they also set up a small camp within an hour. A small team of soldiers found her and her teammates laying in the rubble. One of them ran back to their superior while the others dragged them to a small tent given to the medical staff that was on board. By the time the doctors began taking care of Ruby, the stranger disappeared into thin air.
Any attempt to extract answers from Ruby was met with failure. Two of the doctors were horrified by her expression, thinking that she went insane. Another had told her that she and her teammates would be brought back to Vale as soon as the commander gives the order.
She didn't tell them how she couldn't do that. Why, they would ask. Because she had to wait for Braylon to come back with their souls. Was that explanation crazy? Probably. Was everything she had seen crazy? Also probably. She wished for it to be just a bad dream, though even she, the youngest member of team RWBY, understood that her situation was far from it.
Neither the military was prepared for what they had found, it seemed. Through the thin walls she heard people running, cursing and giving orders until their throats ran dry. There were few gunshots too. Either someone lost their mind from the sheer horror or they had encountered a Grimm or two.
The greatest commotion came around the time when the first stars were visible in the sky. Ruby, wrapped in a blanket and holding a plastic cup, heard some soldiers yelling about something walking towards them from the distance. After few minutes, she would hear the tap-tap-tapping of feet, a sharp intake of air, then an exclamation.
"By the gods, it's a person!"
(Doom PSX – Opening)
That sentence alone sent jolts up Ruby's spine. Eyes wide, pale as a ghost, she dropped the cup and the blanket and darted outside, to the makeshift walls of the camp. Passing through the small gate, she slid through the sea of armed bodies until she reached the front row, where she saw sweating men and women and robots side by side. She picked up a few whispers.
"What the fuck is that?"
"Looks like a man…"
"Holy shit…"
"What in the godsdamn…"
The commander gave a clear order: point the gun at the figure and fire only if it shows signs of hostility. All they had seen until then was a brownish looking thing with the pacing of a snail. Ruby squinted her silver eyes. There was something shining on the lower part of the thing's body. It took her seconds to recognize it. Yelping, she ran towards the figure, much to the confusion and terror of all the personnel present.
The newfound joy she had when she recognized the PDA went down the drain the moment she was able to take a closer look at the man she knew as Braylon. She let out a soul-chilling scream that attracted some of the soldiers, including the commander. For a moment they all thought they were looking at a zombie.
Ruby had to be forcefully removed from the premises. The shock she experienced required urgent medical treatment, just like… whoever that man was. Nobody could believe what they were looking at. Those with weaker wills crumbled into tears and despair. Those clinging to religion saw a martyr, which only strengthened their beliefs. Regardless, all of them agreed on one thing: nobody outside the Atlas military must know of this event. It had to remain top secret until Remnant turned into space dust.
And while most of the camp's staff was left gawking, at the medical tent the three girls woke up with frantic coughing and with no memory that would explain their whereabouts. They weren't ready to meet their traumatized leader or their savior who was, to them, close to death.
In such circumstances, it becomes entirely normal to ask questions and team RWBY had lots of them. What was lost? What would happen now? Would everything be okay? As it is usual in such cases, nobody could give them answers they sought. Deep within themselves, however, they knew that a great chain of change was set in motion, one that would rewrite the course of Remnant's history.
They all hoped it wouldn't be for the worst.
With this chapter we have officially reached the end of Volume/Season 2! After months of writing, months of posting chapters, yet another milestone was conquered! Sure, 52 chapters and we have just finished Volume 2, but those are details we won't bother with… right?
Anyways, before I talk about the next Volume, I would like to express my infinite gratitude to all those who followed me through this (now) years-old journey, especially those who migrated from the first fic. When I was writing "A Chance to Live", I had no clear purpose for the story. My main concern was to write chapters with lots of comedy, action and pure awesome rather than a story with a plot. After thinking about it, I decided to drop the story and start from scratch. I am well aware how my shift in tone drove some fans away and attracted others and I was ready to accept it as a fact. The growth of this fic might be slower, but somehow I feel more satisfied writing it. As of now, the thought that one day this fic might end is still unreal.
Enough with rambling, time to say a few things about Volume 3. Well…
According to *ahem* MAH CALCULATIONS, Volume 3 should be shorter than Volume 2, though more focused on plot and character development. If everything goes smoothly, Volume 3 should have 3 different plotlines developing (at the same time) and ending within the Volume, though they are all tied to the bigger picture. Knowing my luck and my willingness to write the plot on the spot (so to say), this may or may not be a thing, though I will try my best to make it happen.
What else? I was planning to shift the spotlight to characters other than Braylon for the first part of Volume. Also, I am planning to make a drastic change from the canon RWBY timeline and follow a divergent one. Why? Tbqh I don't like where the show is going and I'm not talking just about the quality of writing (and that's a big one coming from me), especially the blatant desire to make Ironwood into a bad guy while keep the precious heroines on their moral high ground. Yeah, no. That ain't gonna happen here, no sir.
What lies beyond Volume 3? No idea. I was thinking to make the entirety of Volume 4 happening in Landsverse, what happened on Pandora and stuff like that. I'm not willing to open that can of worms yet, 'cause its even more volatile than what I had planned for Volume 3.
Also, don't expect the first chapter of Volume 3 any time soon. I still have to rewrite the older chapters and focus on my second active story "Doom: Redemption Denied". If I have the time and energy necessary, you can expect a (new) chapter per month, maybe even two. But as I wrote above, I will focus more on the rewriting part first.
That's all from me for now. I will post updates on Spacebattles site, if I remember doing it that is. This story can also be found on Archive of Our Own, though on both sites the story needs to catch up.
Stay safe, folks!