A/N: Well, this is it. Over sixteen months of work, all coming to a close. Looking back, it was kind of a stupid idea to write a whole full-length novel working off the premise of "What if Cardin was a three-dimensional character?", but I'm glad I tried it. Thanks everyone for reading and supporting the story, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.

As to what's next, I've decided on my next story. I'm going back to the Pokemon fandom for that one, so apologies to all of you hoping I'd stay in the RWBY universe. If it's any consolation, I will say that my next story is inspired by a different RoosterTeeth property. I'll leave you all to guess which one.

To the RWBY fans, I have some good news. As I was pondering exactly what kind of story would draw me back to the fandom, I came up with an idea for a one-shot: Pancakes for Nora. I'm tentatively planning on writing it within the next month to tide people over until the next full-length story is ready, which may take a month or two, depending on how quickly I can get the first several chapters written.

As for this story itself, I've written it in such a fashion that a sequel could be made, but I don't plan on doing so at this time. I may change my mind depending on how the future seasons of RWBY go.

Until next time, happy reading.

Epilogue: Scars

Had Cardin known how much paperwork ruling all of Vale would entail, he would have fled to Atlas. His father had prepared him for all the paperwork that managing the Winchester estate and its industries would entail, and Cardin had anticipated a greater workload upon his hasty coronation in the crumbling, smoking ruins of the Council hall. He hadn't anticipated the sheer quantity of casualty reports, logistical documentation, offers for foreign aid, relief distribution, state of emergency legislation, and piles upon piles of paperwork that he would have to wade through every waking moment of the day just to keep the crumbling nation of Vale from descending into Grimm-ridden anarchy. Even with a whole staff of hastily-recruited black-suited goons to sift through the paperwork for him, he still had to personally review the ambassadors' letters and sign off on every expense. His fingers were aching from clutching a pen all day, and his eyes felt as though he had up-ended a pot of boiling water directly into his corneas.

Since the Grimm Invasion, Vale had teetered on a tightrope. With the Dukes all slain along with their families and chief retainers, the political structure had crumbled, countless offices vacated and many more suffering from the aftermath of fires and demolished buildings. Countless civil records had gone up in flames, which left Cardin's makeshift cabinet fumbling in the dark as they tried to allocate the nation's resources.

The Dukes' deaths had been a blessing as well. With the genealogy records held in the Council of Lords conveniently missing, something Cardin had seen to the moment he had officially come to power, no one had any clear, legal claim to the vast wealth and industries hoarded away by the Dukes. With no one left to complain, Cardin had nationalized all their assets, redirecting whole branches of industry to relief efforts. Food staples and canned goods, medical supplies, construction materials, clothing and tents, and barrels of fresh water poured in on horse-drawn carts and sail barges, Dust being too scarce to afford faster transport. Cardin had feared that the transports would be attacked, but luck was on the reeling nation's side. As every Grimm in Vale had been drawn to the capital and wiped out in the battle's final moment, none remained to waylay the under-defended convoys and fringe settlements.

Even with everything Vale had, along with the aid provided by the rest of the world, the nation struggled to repair itself. It took four days for Atlas technicians to fix the CCT. It had taken six to bury all the bodies. Even now, vast swarms of refugees were still hauling rubble out of the streets, clearing the way for the construction teams. Tents crowded shattered swathes of the city, and more bubbled out the gates. Some had trickled back to the countryside, but many more clung to the walls, fearing how quickly the less fortified settlements would fall under a similar assault.

Professor Goodwitch strode in with another armload of papers. It fell with a heavy thud into the space Cardin had just cleared seconds ago. "I think that's the last of it for today," she said in a tired voice.

Cardin looked outside at the dwindling sunlight. "Is everything ready for the trip to Atlas?"

Goodwitch nodded. "Xiong and I will take care of things while you're gone. Anything needing your direct attention can be handled by Scroll."

Cardin slumped back in his seat. "Finally. I can't wait to have a new arm."

"Oh please," Mercury said from a nearby desk, "At least you still get to walk. I've had to roll myself around for the past two weeks."

Appointed as Cardin's personal secretary, Mercury had his own mountain of papers to contend with. He had struggled at first, but under Cardin's tutelage, he had mastered the art of giving each paper the bare minimum of attention and shoving anything irrelevant into the growing 'do-it-later' pile at the back of Cardin's new office.

Junior poked his head through the door and said, "Two more barges came in."

"Send some over to Ron," Cardin said as he signed another document. "He's been complaining about not having enough to keep the waste treatment facility going."

"There's ammunition as well."

"I'll take that," Goodwitch said over her shoulder as she left. "Get me whatever Gravity Dust you can spare as well."

Junior grimaced. "Not much of that came in. They're still short after all that went into Amity."

The rest of the evening was spent in a similar vein, encountering problems and throwing their limited resources at them. By the time the sun had truly set, Cardin hadn't managed to clear his desk, but at least he had made enough space to rest his head on his arm. Mercury groaned and shoved himself away from his desk.

"Is it going to be like this all the time?"

"It better not," Cardin grumbled. "But yeah, it's a lot of paperwork."

"Remind me again why we're doing this. I think I can feel my head splitting apart."

Cardin rubbed an eye, and his hand came away greasy. He blinked and brought out a hand mirror from his desk drawer. A thin, tired king stared back at him. With the concealer wiped away, he could see dark bags under his eye.

"I smudged my makeup again."

Goodwitch tsked and said, "I'll get Coco."

"Nah, leave it. I'm not meeting anyone after this anyways. Might as well wash it all off."

He had taken to sleeping in an abandoned office nestled within the Council Hall, as had most of the staff. The desk had been shoved up against the wall to make room for an air mattress, and the cabinet had been emptied to make room for Cardin's clothes. He struggled out of his gray suit, slid out of his pants, and collapsed onto the bed. He'd get to sleep on the Bullhead, but at that moment, he couldn't muster the energy to walk down to the docks.

Goodwitch came to get him an hour later, all but dragging him out of the room to wash up and get into a new suit. With only one arm, Cardin struggled to wriggle into pants and shirts, but he was able to manage the overcoat and shoes well enough. All his clothing was in Valean greens and grays, not a hint of blue or white anywhere. Wouldn't do to look as though he were sucking up to Atlas.

Ruby and Yang were waiting outside. Yang's hair was cut short when the doctors had to stitch up her head wounds, a deficit she covered up with a hat. Though she no longer needed the bandages, she still wore them to cover up the half-healed scars. Ruby, on the other hand, still had her head wrapped out of necessity. The left side of her face was a mass of carefully wound gauze, while the right was covered by supporting straps, leaving room only for her right eye to see through. Upon close inspection, a thin, sharp line could be seen running diagonally along her cornea, a remnant of the damage Jaune had failed to heal.

Cardin nodded to them both and asked, "How are you feeling today Ruby?"

Ruby smiled, and grimaced when the motion tugged on the gauze. "Better today, but it still hurts a bit. They have me on a ton of painkillers."

Yang chuckled and gently hugged her sister's shoulder. "Had to keep her from helping people move a hunk of metal half her weight. She wouldn't stop shouting it was a Huntress' duty."

Ruby blushed and punched Yang. She sobered up, the careful smile vanishing behind the gauze. "I wish Blake could come. Then the team would be back together."

"With the way things are in Atlas," Cardin reminded her, "Faunus would hardly be welcome. Ironwood wouldn't be able to guarantee her safety."

Ruby grumbled under her breath, "She can handle herself."

Yang patted her shoulder and said, "At least we have our whole team. Jaune's still, you know…"

Cardin tried not to show anything, but Yang caught the sudden discomfort in his expression. Yang winced and said, "Sorry, that was bad. I forgot, I mean, no wait, um, I didn't realize…"

"It's fine," Cardin said. Once the dust had cleared, he had tried enlisting his former teammates. Sky made excuses about being with his family and left Vale. Dove refused to speak with him. He had Russell buried on Beacon grounds with all the other Huntsmen and students that fell during the attack, and he was the only member of his team in attendance.

"So, are we going?" Ruby asked. "I'd really like to get this eye thing fixed."

"Think they could give me prosthetic hair?" Yang asked, adjusting her hat. "I feel crippled without my long, luscious locks."

Cardin snorted. "Poor taste in words, considering the company you're in."

Yang looked around at half-blind Ruby, one-armed Cardin, and legless Mercury. To her credit, she only looked mildly abashed. "Hey, if any of you want to trade…"

"Do you really think you'd want to live with only one arm? How would you punch me?"

Yang eyed the stump obscured by Cardin's limp jacket sleeve. "Alright, point. Still, can we get going? I think my legs are falling asleep."

"I resent that," Mercury chimed in, smirking at her.

"We're waiting for the last passenger," Cardin said, ignoring the barrage of quips flying back and forth.

"There's someone else coming along?" Ruby asked. "Who is it?"

At that moment, Qrow arrived with a hooded figure in tow. Ruby bounced with excitement, heedless of the way her bandages chafed at her wounds, and even Yang beamed. They got a glimpse of tousled black hair and listless golden eyes as Cinder Fall was half-dragged into the waiting Bullhead. Yang and Ruby instinctively backed away as she passed.

Cardin said in a low voice, "We're getting her tested in Atlas, to see what we can find about her condition.

They found Cinder in the shattered ruins of Beacon's courtyard, curled up in a fetal position, crying into the dust. She ate when given food and drank any liquid pressed to her lips, but otherwise, she did nothing. On sunny days, Cinder might look skyward with a dim sense of wonder, but otherwise, she never reacted to anyone or anything.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Yang asked. "What if the guys that attacked Vale come after her."

"That's why this is all a secret. Not even Ironwood knows she'll be on here."

They boarded in silence, Yang hauling Mercury over her shoulder and Ruby pulling on Cardin's empty coat sleeve to help him up. A couple months ago, Cardin would have never allowed himself to close his eyes amidst that group of rivals and enemies. Now, as the Bullhead took off in the glow of the shattered moon, Cardin let himself drift off to sleep.

Five figures, hidden by the shadows of Salem's castle, knelt before her crystal throne. Salem looked down at them with a genial air. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Emerald. Cinder had told me much about you."

Emerald said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, and she could barely contain her trembling. She was supposed to belong to Cinder, not this pale monster that made her skin crawl.

"How does it feel?" Salem asked.

This time, Emerald looked up. She shrank under the hunger in her new master's eyes. "It feels amazing. And terrifying. I can't even control it, it just all comes out at once."

"Control will come with time. You will remain here for the time being, and Tyrian will see to your training." At this, the scorpion Faunus kneeling to her right snickered.

Mustering up what courage she had, Emerald asked, "What about Cinder?"

Salem's eyes narrowed, and a spike of fear shot through her heart. Noticing the fear, Salem relaxed and gave Emerald a soft smile. "I will undo the damage done to her by the girl in red." This time, the shaking of Emerald's hands came from rage. "But first, we must recover her, and Cardin will not let her go lightly, I fear. I haven't been able to find her whereabouts, but Atlas is the only place they can study her. We will find her there."

"Thank you, my Goddess." Tyrian had advised her to call Salem that, and looking upon the Queen of Grimm, she had decided it was wisest to stick with it.

"As for you, Neo," Salem said, turning her attention to the person on Emerald's left, "I have heard much about you as well. For you, I have a gift in exchange for your service."

Neo looked up, her characteristic smugness gone, replaced by pale wariness, and nodded.

Salem snapped her fingers. As the snap echoed through the room, bouncing off the vaulted ceilings, a new sound joined the chorus, the tap of a cane as it struck stone. At the sound, Neo whirled, eyes wide with surprise.

As if materializing from the shadows beyond the entrance to Salem's throne room, Roman Torchwick strolled in the room. He had a smoking cigar clenched between his teeth. His coat, dusty and ragged, had the same blood-soaked hole above his heart, the stain brown and crusty, and his bowler cap was crumpled around the edges. Walking up to Salem's throne, he took off his cap and bowed low. To Neo, he smiled and said, "Hey kiddo, did you miss me?"

"Well Neo?" Salem asked. "Do we have a deal?"

Neo glanced at Torchwick. The master thief smiled and nodded. At Neo's acceptance, Salem regarded her other three assistants. "As to the rest of you," she said, "The parasite housing the Fall Maiden was destroyed, and it's only by luck or quick thinking that we still have it, the Relic of Choice is nowhere to be found, and Vale remains standing. Consider yourselves lucky that I don't have you thrown into the pit."

"You have my deepest apologies, Salem," Watts said, kneeling even lower until his forehead touched the floor. "I will not make the same mistakes again."

"Good. For now, I want you to find Cinder. Look in Atlas. While you're at it, work on compromising the security around the Winter Maiden and the Relic of Choice."

"Consider it already done."

"As for you, Hazel, find Ozma, and bring him back here alive. Killing him again will do little good."

Hazel frowned. "He could be anyone. How would I find him?"

"The fact you're looking will be enough. He can't risk us finding him while he doesn't have control over his new host. Make sure he doesn't set himself up in any of the Academies, and I will consider myself satisfied. Prioritize searching Haven, Ozma loves filling power vacuums."

Hazel grunted his acquiescence.

"Good. You're all dismissed."

They stood and went to the door, all but Torchwick, who lingered near Salem's throne. Neo gave him an inquisitive look, and Torchwick signaled her to leave without him. Once they were alone, Salem asked, "How many did you manage to save?"

Torchwick opened his coat. Twelve Scarabs crawled out of the hole in his ribcage and clung to his emaciated chest.

"It will take time to replenish our numbers," Torchwick told her.

"Start in Vacuo," Salem told him. "It'll be easier to hide there."

"And the girl? I suppose you'll have me drag her along like a lost puppy."

"A very useful lost puppy. Keep her loyal. I think she'll make a fine Maiden."

"No Scarab?"

Salem frowned. "Not after what happened with Cinder. Even with Aura to protect it, that Scarab still perished. Too risky."

"As you wish." Torchwick bowed low and sauntered out of the room.

Once she was alone, Salem stared out the window, as the broken, Dust-ridden landscape of the Grimmlands. Murmuring to herself, she said, "The pieces are on the board, and white has first move. Let's see how you play, Cardin."