And here we are, very near the end of the road.

Shall we?

Start Chapter 60

It's a bit startling, in Jaune's opinion, to wake inside of an Atlesian military complex that's on high alert.

That's not to say he doesn't think such is necessary; they plan on literally summoning the Gods into it, so yeah, everyone being ready seems like a good plan. But the ambient sirens droning on in the distance, the sounds of marching feet and shouted orders… all of it gives off this sense, to Jaune, at least, that the world is ending.

And to be fair, it sort of is.

Still, he goes about his morning ritual as best he can. He wakes Cinder, who's slept beside him, groups with his team, and they head on down to the cafeteria to get breakfast. It's a surprisingly ostentatious meal; pancakes with bacon and sausage. It feels like an awfully grand thing to have, especially on a military compound serving a thousand mouths, easy. When Jaune asks one of the mess hall employees, however, she tells him this.

"Normally, we wouldn't go so big on a meal. But… well, the General has filled most everyone in that today might very well be the end of the world if things don't go right. As that's the case… we felt it only appropriate to give everyone as much of a morale boost as we can, and frankly, who doesn't like pancakes and bacon?"

Jaune can't find fault in that, given he's stacked three pancakes and about six strips of bacon on his plate already.

Still, as he and his teammate go about enjoying breakfast, Jaune takes in the makeup of the room around them. He looks out over the sea of faces, and sees all sorts of different people surrounding them.

There's the standard Atlesian military men and women, which makes sense given this is their building in the first place. But then there's a good smattering of fifty or so Hunters, who have joined them on loan from various different places, such as Vale or Vacuo. Sitting alongside them are members of the White Fang, no longer donning their masks, but instead taking up positions all across the room.

And of course, Salem herself and her band of troublemakers are somewhere among the base, probably skulking about and waiting to scare someone to get their kicks.

Or, well, Tyrian probably is. The others are, hopefully, just being normal.

Or as normal as possible, given the circumstances.

It's as Jaune's looking over the figures all around the room that Nora hums out under her breath after partaking of what must be her sixth or seventh pancake, and then says, "Y'know, it's kind of funny how all of this is thanks to us, huh?"

Ren cocks an eyebrow, with a rather amused air about him. "How so?"

"I mean, we were the ones to go out and gather all these people. All these allies." Nora gestures towards the entire room. "The White Fang, the Hunters, Ozma, Salem, everybody! It's all because of us."

Pyrrha chuckles. "Very humble of you, Nora."

Jaune's teammate sticks out her tongue at his partner. "You get what I'm saying though, right? C'mon, Cindy, back me up here!"

Cinder sighs, before giving a nonchalant wave of the hand. "As much as I despise that nickname, I cannot find fault in your words. You're correct. We were the ones to travel the world, and gather this force. It remains to be seen whether or not it will be enough, but if it isn't… well, no one will be able to say we could've done more."

Jaune will drink to that – and by drink, he of course means drink the glass of milk sat beside his meal, which he downs the remainder of in a second or two.

"It's kinda crazy to think that it's all going to end today, huh?" Nora suddenly speaks back up again. "I just… after everything that's happened; Beacon, then Evernight, then Menagerie, then back to Evernight, then Haven, then back to Evernight again, then to Vacuo, then back to Evernight, then Atlas, then Evernight, then Atlas!" Nora gasps, having run out of breath. "It's just kind of crazy that it's going to be over!"

Ren hums. "I admit, I find such a thing hard to believe as well. And yet… it's hard to deny. If we stop the Gods today, through whatever means… then our journey will essentially be complete. There will not be anything more to do."

"There's always something more to do." Cinder speaks, shaking her head. "Just because the gods are planning on ending the world doesn't mean that if we stop them, there won't still be crime come tomorrow."

Pyrrha gives a wan smile. "I suppose that's what we signed up for."

"It is indeed." Ren agrees, pinning Nora's fork on his plate with his own before she could manage to sneak away with one of his pancakes. "I suppose for now we'd best fill ourselves with energy as best we can, and prepare for the day ahead."

Their group nods, and Jaune sets about finishing his meal.

Over the course of the next hour or so after they've finished eating, the final few preparations are being put in place. Jaune spots Raven, Summer, Qrow, and Taiyang all discussing something together, and it's good to see Summer standing again. The prosthetics she's been given are far more advanced than the ones that Mercury uses, which makes sense given one had been supplied by the Atlesian government, and the other had been, seemingly, taken and modified off of the black market.

Still, Summer seems as ready as she'll ever be. She wields an Atlesian axe in one hand, and has a dust pistol on her belt. Jaune feels like she's likely doing her best to make up for lacking her own personal weapon, which is likely buried away somewhere in the Grimmlands, where no one would ever find it. Taiyang, too, has sought to weapon-up, albeit his weapons of choice are two pairs of knuckle-dusters that cover his whole hands. They seem to Jaune to almost be a less advanced version of Ember Celica.

Jaune asks how everyone's doing, and gets a smattering of answers averaging out to, "Waiting", which Jaune feels is fair.

Salem and Ozma are discussing something together just beside where the Relics are currently being stored. They're utilizing the Relic of Creation for a few last-minute items. The big one is a device that repairs any weapon that's put into it, which Jaune very gratefully puts Crocea Mors into. He gets back a shield without dents in it, which he hadn't even had to pound out himself.

It nearly brings a tear to his eye.

Still, eventually, it's clear the time has come. No one else is waiting on anyone. General Ironwood, Sienna Khan, Ozma, Salem, STRQ, RWBY, JNPR, the forces of Atlas, every Hunter who'd answered their call, the entirety of Sienna's White Fang, everyone…

They're as ready as they're going to get.

Which means…

Which means it's about time.

"Well, Ozma," Ironwood speaks towards the immortal man. "I believe now's as good a time as ever."

Ozma, seemingly in a trance, nods his head. "Yes… it appears that way."

It's humbling to see even Ozma clearly taken aback by this. By the Relics all being in one place, by Salem and humanity standing side by side, by Ironwood and the Faunus existing under one roof – albeit somewhat tentatively, and owing mostly to Sienna keeping the peace.

Even so, they've accomplished something worthwhile here. That much is certain.

Now, it's time to make good on it.

Ozma takes the Relic of Choice, the final of the four relics, and places it in a close cross formation with the other four. Then, he holds his hands up, and yells, "Oh, brothers, I summon thee!"

Jaune's sort of expecting the world to shake around then. For the skies to crackle with thunder and lighting, for the seas to churn, for the very world to rumble. He's expecting two great, unending beings to appear and strike both fear and awe into every one of them.

He's notably not expecting…

Nothing.

It takes around ten or so seconds for the fact that nothing at all has happened to seemingly occur to Ozma. He looks down at the Relics beneath him, and pushes them just a bit closer together. After that doesn't work, he resorts to stacking them on top of each other.

Nothing.

Ozma seems utterly bewildered.

"What's going on?" Ironwood requests.

"I…" Ozma shakes his head. "I don't know. This is what the Gods once said to do, so very long ago. To gather the four relics in order to summon them back to Remnant, and yet…"

"They don't care."

All eyes turn towards the person who's just spoken; towards Salem herself, stepping up onto the raised pedestal that holds both Ozma and Ironwood.

"Jinn told us as much, did she not?" Salem speaks, and she cocks her neck to one side. "That the Gods did not care to be here. That they had long since abandoned our world as a failed experiment. They will not come to us. That much is now certain."

She speaks with utter surety, enough so that no one so much as offers disagreement.

"That means our path forward is rather clear; we shall go to them."

Ozma's brow furrows. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Ambrosius!" Salem calls, and the Staff of Creation answers.

"Hello, hello!" Ambrosius announces as he emerges from the Staff. "And how are we all? Going to summon my creators, all together just like they said? Hah, brings a tear to this old genie's eye."

"Spirit of Creation," Salem speaks, and Ambrosius turns towards her. "Can you take us to the Brothers?"

There's a moment there where Jaune's absolutely certain this can't work. It should go against every single law that the Brothers have put in place. It should go against everything they've created their Relics to be able to do.

And yet, as Ambrosius opens his mouth, seemingly to tell them that no, he cannot do such a thing…

He pauses.

"That's… strange…" Ambrosius mutters, deep in thought. "I was just about to tell you that I can't do such a thing, and yet… the blockers that would prevent me from doing as such have been… removed."

Jaune feels a chill run down his spine, no matter how fortunate they are.

Because…

Too many times have they gotten strangely lucky recently. Too often has a situation seemed far too difficult that instead ended without much effort at all. First in the dunes of Vacuo when finding the Silver-Eyed ancestors, then in Atlas, to try and locate the Winter Maiden and Staff of Creation…

And now again, with this.

Still, Jaune shakes his head. He'll have time to think about that later. For now…

Well, they've a plan to adjust.

"Are you saying that you can ferry us towards wherever the Gods reside?"

"God, singular, in this case." Ambrosius explains, and Salem and Ozma both seem rather confused. "The God of Light is the only one of the Brothers whom I am currently sensing. If the God of Darkness yet exists… I cannot seem to feel him."

"That… what?" Ozma mutters.

"Believe me, old man, I am just as confused as you." Ambrosius shakes his head. "Still, no time like the present, am I correct?"

Ozma nods his head, but he's clearly a bit out of it. "Right… then, in that case, make us a portal to the God of Light… if such a thing is possible?"

Ambrosius nods his head. "It is. It shouldn't be, but it is." The genie shivers. "I've got a bad feeling about this old man. I wouldn't go if I were you."

Ozma grimaces. "I do not believe we have any other choice."

Ambrosius can't seem to disagree with that sentiment. With a flick of his wrist, he conjures into being a gold and cyan portal a good ten or so meters wide atop the raised platform that Ozma and Salem are stood upon. With another flick of his wrist, he conjures more, and more, until there are at least two or so dozen portals all around the courtyard their force has stationed themselves within.

Then, finally, Ambrosius turns back towards their group, and says, "I'm not sure I'm allowed to say this, but… I'll be rooting for you."

Ozma, in a rare showing of emotion, bows his head towards Ambrosius.

"Thank you, my friend. If we do not come back, then… may we meet again, in another life."

Ambrosius smiles, but it is a weak thing. "I would think that would be your worst nightmare, Ozma."

The immortal man lets loose a quiet laugh, before he turns towards the portal hanging in the distance.

He seems to be trying to psyche himself up to step into it, to step into wherever it is such a portal connects them to. A moment later, Salem steps up next to him, and, in a move that has Jaune's eyes widening, takes the man's hand.

They share a whispered word between the two of them; one which Jaune is far too distanced from to pick up. And yet… Jaune can see the way it calms Ozma. The way his nerves seemingly still.

He nods his head, and then, a moment later, steps into the portal.

And that seems like all the signal they're going to get.

Jaune reaches down, grips onto Cinder's hand, smiles over at the love of his life, and follows along behind them.

/

They're not on Remnant anymore; that is clear the moment that Cinder steps through the portal alongside her beloved; alongside hundreds of soldiers, and hunters, and White Fang members, into some strange, astral plane of space.

It is like they're standing amongst the stars in the night sky. An endless blackness surrounds them on all sides, encompassing all that Cinder can see. In the distance, there are orbs of light floating, like fireflies dancing across the nothingness.

It's astounding to see, without doubt. The problem, of course, is that they're not exactly alone.

For as they step out into the beyond realm they exist within now, it is hard not to notice the veritable sun hanging a few hundred meters from them. It glows with the same intense light that Ruby's Silver Eyes had once given off, when she'd believed Cinder might kill Pyrrha; when she'd eviscerated Cinder, and boiled the Grimm from out of her body.

Such thoughts have Cinder shivering, even as the being that stands within that light seemingly realizes it is no longer alone.

"Well…"

A voice booms across the space between, one which causes the ground – if the nothingness that somehow holds them can be called as such – to rumble, and Cinder's hair to flutter, as if caught in an intense wind.

"I must confess; I did not expect to see a human or faunus ever again."

Many of the soldiers and hunters around them, all seasoned, battle-hardened combatants, seem to take a step back as the figure turns towards them.

As the God of Light turns towards them.

He is towering in size, far greater than Salem had ever discussed him being. He stands easily twenty meters tall, and if he had not been made of light itself, he might cast a mighty shadow upon them all.

His face is expressionless; quite literally, his face has no features to it. He has grand horns which stretch from his forehead up into the air, and Cinder gathers that they have grown far more impressive in the hundred or so thousand years since Salem had last seen the god.

He does not step towards them – Cinder gets the feeling the being feels such actions beneath him – and instead simply floats in their direction. He stops some ten meters in front of Ozma and Salem, who are both looking up at him with furrowed brows and readied stances.

"Ah, the dead, and the death-defier."

"God of Light." Salem hisses, and there is a palpable venom in her voice.

"Hmph. I see you have not learned respect. Such is not surprising, I suppose. I might correct such behavior, but in truth, I've more important things to focus on at the moment."

Cinder's teeth grate together as the God speaks; his voice carrying with it a weight that grinds against her flesh.

Ultimately, she turns towards Jaune, seeing how he himself is feeling.

Much the same as her, it seems, judging based on the way he's wincing in pain.

"What is it you're doing?" Salem calls out, taking a step forward. "What is it you're planning? Is it to kill your brother?"

The God of Light seems far more intrigued suddenly, tilting his head as he looks at Salem.

"Oh? And why would you assume that I have my brother's demise in mind?"

"Jinn told us of the Silver-Eyed warriors, of their plan. Of what they meant to do. They were supposed to be your force against your brother. Assumedly, that meant you wished his annihilation."

The God of Light stares at Salem for a long moment after that, before, with a sickening sound, he lets a loud and booming laugh escape him.

"You think that I wish to kill my brother? To simply remove him from the universe? No, no. I wish not for so vulgar an act."

The God of Light holds his arms out at his sides, and continues.

"I do not wish his death; I covet his power. I mean to supersede him. I mean to take all that he is and mold it into myself. I mean to become not just a god of Light, but of Dark as well. And with that power… I will become a being superior even to my own creator, and ascend to a higher plane of existence."

Cinder feels a chill running down her spine as the God of Light looks across their little army; at the thousand or so people all gathered here in this realm beyond Remnant.

He does not even have eyes; not really, and yet Cinder can tell he regards them as they might regard a worm crawling along on the sidewalk, trying to make it to the dirt. A being so beneath oneself that their goals are almost irreconcilable.

The God of Light sneers.

"You mortals cannot comprehend such a design. I will not bother attempting to explain it to you."

Somehow Cinder gets the feeling that he's saving them all a good amount of time. Frankly, Cinder doesn't really care why the God of Light wants this. His goals matter not to her.

She just has one question.

"And when you overcome your creator, and ascend…" Cinder speaks out, stepping forward with her brow furrowed, and with the Fall Maiden's powers primed. "What will happen to those things left behind? Us? Humans, Faunus, Remnant?

The God of Light hums casually; uncaringly.

"My ascension to a higher plane will require… fuel. You and your world, alongside the Ever After, and the many worlds my brother and I have created since we left this place, shall serve as kindling. And from the cinders… I will arise anew; unburdened, unbound…

Undeniable."

Cinder swallows on nothing, even as she feels Jaune squeeze her hand, and take a step forward beside her.

He lets go of her hand, reaches down towards Crocea Mors, and draws both blade and shield onto his arms.

"That's… good enough for me." He speaks.

Jaune Arc, perhaps one of the least capable combatants among them, moves. He is afraid; Cinder can tell by his gait, by the way he shivers as he walks to stand next to Ozma and Salem.

But all the same, he raises Crocea Mors so that it is pointing towards the God of Light's face, and then he speaks.

"We can't let you do that."

Such a concept seems alien to the God of Light. He watches them all for a good few seconds after that, before asking them a question.

"You believe you can, in any way, threaten me?"

"We don't really have any choice but to believe that." Jaune says, and Cinder agrees wholeheartedly. "If you're going to destroy the world, then what difference does it make if we die fighting you here? And who knows… maybe we can stop you after all."

"Hmph. How arrogant my creations have become in my absence. Very well."

The God of Light raises his right hand, and in it glows a holy fire; alight somehow with death and destruction.

"I shall…"

"Rectify your behavior."

And then the world itself goes white.

End Chapter 60

Man, I had this really cool thing where the God of Light's text was aligned to the right side of the page and it just doesn't work on . Dissapointing.

Ah, well. Next chapter, the battle - well, sort of - with the God of Light begins in earnest!

See you all whenever I feel like uploading the next chapter! Maybe Thursday, maybe Saturday? Who knows.