Note:

Hi, there.

The following story is an AU/rewrite of RWBY Volume III. The following is a sequel and direct continuation to the work, "Let Us Be Your Poison," and "Let Us Dance in the Flames" which can be read on both and AO3. I originally started this story with the intent to try to keep many of the original plot elements of the show intact while drastically changing the tone to resemble a dark fairy tale, though it has eventually branched off and become its own beast entirely. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but for clarity: This story is NOT meant to bash the original show, nor is this any sort of "How RWBY Should Be" story. I have the utmost respect for everyone involved in the production of the show, including its writers, animators, editors, voice actors, and more. This is merely my interpretation of the world of Remnant, and it doesn't represent any more than that. Also, when I say that this story is dark, I do very much mean that. This story contains a lot of disturbing story elements, and it contains content that can be uncomfortable and unpleasant to read. But well, this is the third go-around. You already know that by this point.

To more accurately reflect the feeling of viewing an anime/manga/television show, I've divided the story into multiple different arcs. Except, not this time! This story only has one arc: The Vytal Festival. However, because it is going to be extremely long, it will be broken into smaller subsections, which can be skipped to as desired:

Before the Tournament: Chapters 1 - ongoing

Once upon a time, the world ended—and what a disappointing "ending" it was.

A young man walked through the ruins of a desolate town on the northern island of Vytal. What it would be called in a year's time, no one yet knew. That which had once prospered had been turned to ash and rubble at his feet, and his black dress shoes became crinkled as they brushed against the chalky ruins. He passed by old structures. A schoolyard where a hundred children looked to the sky as the bombs rained on their heads. A quaint home, no different than the one he grew up in, its insides melted from a raging inferno. The nameless town used to have a population of eight thousand. Now, all that remained were the camps, the outposts, and the soldiers who had too lost their purpose.

All victims of a Great War. The war to end the world. That was what was promised, and yet, here he was, marching through the grey streets under greyer skies. The first strike of the Great War happened on Vytal, and now, he would be in charge of dealing its finishing blow.

The Mantlan camp was understaffed, undersupplied, and overly paranoid. He did not see the watchtowers over the barren hills, but they saw him. As he approached the perimeter, sirens blasted over the air. An armored truck raced through the outskirts of the village, skidding over charred roads as it stopped in front of him. Two Mantlan soldiers poured out of its cabin and aimed their rifles at him.

"Freeze! Don't move a muscle!"

He complied, of course. He gently raised his hands, showing himself to be unarmed. He could smell their fear—or perhaps that odor was just from the stains on their uniforms. Stubble lined their wrinkled faces. One of them wasn't even holding his rifle properly. The man could see it in his eyes: he wasn't a trained soldier. A school teacher, most likely, stripped of his dignity and forced to the front lines to support a dwindling fighting force.

"King Regalius sent me. I have a meeting with General Kai," the man spoke calmly.

"You're the envoy?" One of the soldiers asked. "You look young."

"Age is not necessarily tied to experience," the man said, though he agreed with their judgment. He would probably assume he was a spy, given the circumstances. And yet, after providing the soldiers with his name and reasonable proof of his authority, they were able to confirm his identity.

"You were supposed to come by airship," one of the soldiers asked him.

"You shot down the last airship," the envoy countered. "And it's such a lovely day for a walk, don't you think?"

The soldiers escorted him into the back of their transport, and they returned to their home base, watchful of the stranger in their presence. He seemed rather chipper for someone in a war zone. Then again, the risk was minimal. There had been no fighting for three days now. The skies had been cleared. It was just a matter of waiting.

The Mantlan military camp was the first to be established in the War. Vytal was the easiest target, in hindsight: geographically isolated from the mainland, the Kingdom of Vale could not offer it significant protection. The territory was annexed in a matter of days. Reclaiming it could have been done years ago, but there were far more important disputes at hand. In the end, its recapture would be symbolic. As the envoy stepped out of the truck and into the encampment, he could see the fringes of the Mantlan's failures. The chain link fence surrounding the perimeter was full of large holes. Large sections of the cap had been bombed, fragments of tents and supplies still lying in pieces. Rows of body bags were stacked up on the east end. The soldiers guarding the area, frail and traumatized, looked like they would join them shortly.

The envoy was led into the camp's center, where a single tent stood above the rest, its brown hide slickened with rain. The escorts parked outside, allowing him to enter the tent alone. He saw disarray; a desk cluttered with maps and documents that had ceased to make sense to most anyone, and two-way radio that crackled every few seconds. Sat behind the desk was the formerly great General Kai, whose white, balding head was covered in beauty marks and moles, and whose face had sagged from seventy-plus years of disappointments. The envoy cleared his throat, gaining the General's attention.

"General Kai. Sir. I believe you have been expecting me."

General Kai looked the envoy up and down with a pout. His black, shaggy hair and sharp eyes revealed a man unbattered by hardship. He wore a clean, black suit that did little to hide a slender frame. His eyes were always darting around, studying his surroundings. A Huntsmen? Of course not. He wasn't a soldier, either. Looked like a real pretty boy to be out in the badlands. He must have been a politician, though no one of any repute.

"So, you're the diplomat who's going to end our Kingdom," the General huffed.

"Oh, I don't think I can take the credit for that," the envoy sighed. "I've seen the state of your men. It's a wonder they lasted as long as they did."

"Any man will take a beating when he's got an empty belly and less than two weeks of basic training."

"I suppose I just expected better from the 'greatest military in the world.'"

"Just as smug as any Valian," the General hissed.

"I don't mean to be smug," the envoy insisted. "I'm just observant, and perhaps I don't hold my tongue as well as I mean to."

"And yet, they've sent you to negotiate my surrender."

"Once again… I don't think I can take credit for that."

"Then what do you take credit for?"

The envoy smirked. "Getting people to do what I want them to."

If the General had any self-respect left, he would have shot the man on the spot. But they both knew that was no longer a possibility. General Kai rose to his feet on shaky legs. He walked calmly to the back of the tent, clasping his hands behind his back. He spoke, mostly to himself, yet the envoy listened intently as the weight of the world fell off the General's shoulders.

"The Age of Kings is coming to a close. I never thought I'd see something so prosperous ruined by a few bad decisions."

"You mourn for something you have no control over?"

"They say they want to implement a democracy. What a damn shame. I can imagine Regalius abdicating the throne. The bastard never had the stomach for strong rule. But they expect His Majesty to simply end a bloodline that has run strong for a hundred generations? Worse, they want him to surrender his power to the peasants? What do fishermen understand of politics?"

"What does anyone?" the envoy shrugged. "Politics have always been difficult. If it wasn't for the politics of your King, you and I wouldn't be standing here."

"And now, we give it all up," General Kai sighed. "I know what you've come to ask for. Our armies. Our throne. Our name. Mantle will cease to be."

"Cease to be? Of course not. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Whatever will be left, it won't be my Kingdom. Our principles will die with the King. I fear for what will come next."

"Believe it or not, I understand your concerns," the envoy explained. "I actually have somewhat of a fondness for Mantle. Its brutality is fascinating to me. So is its citizen's commitment to loyalty. I came here because I want to ensure that both of our Kingdoms have a prosperous future ahead of them." He sauntered around the table, kicking up dirt with the tip of his shoe. "You know something… people tend to exaggerate the end of the world. How many times has Vacuo broken into pieces and reformed? How many bloodlines that we once thought were so crucial have been purged? The one great thing about Humanity is its ability to adapt to what comes next. The Age of Kings was long and—let's face it—it had its problems. We've been overdue for a change. And ensuring that the future is kept in good hands is precisely what I came to talk to you about."

The General grunted. "It's hard for me to care deeply for a future I have no role in."

"And who said that you have no role? Certainly not me?"

Kai turned around, surprised that the envoy had gotten so close they were within spitting distance of one another. He thought he had misheard something.

"What are you talking about? Vale isn't planning on keeping the old Generals anymore. They have no reason to."

"King Regalius has lots of thoughts about how the world should be run," the envoy stated. "But he's not going to be in charge anymore… will he?"

"What are you—"

"You know, I actually share a lot of your concerns about the fisherman." The envoy sat in the General's chair. He relaxed, lounging in the seat, impressed by its support; the one good thing Mantle could actually afford it seemed. "I have a lot of respect for Our Majesty for ending his reign. Most men lack the humility for such things. A respected parliament of elected leaders, and a variety of perspectives from all our citizens… certainly seems like a noble goal. But people, well… people are quite stupid, aren't they? They're just these ignorant little sheep who all flock wherever their master tells them to. They like to pretend that they have this control over their lives. They want to believe that they can make rational decisions. But a sheep without its herder, or a fisherman without its captain… they become lost. The King hopes for a democracy, but a true democracy cannot work while the fundamental nature of a human is that of a follower."

General Kai studied the man as he ranted, taken aback by his musings. "You aren't making any sense."

"Now the problem with Kings… far too blunt," the envoy reasoned. "I think that was the issue all along. Because it's that desire for rational thought and freedom that makes humans such unhappy, pesky things. We used to be able to get away with denying those things. Back when everyone was running from monsters, they didn't have time to complain about their rights. But with all this damn prosperity, people have the privilege of becoming enlightened. You tell them what to do, and like a petulant child, they will whine and resist. You have to make them think they are in control. That's the secret, I believe. Let them believe they are everything they want to be, while you guide them to the conclusion you always wanted them to reach."

General Kai grabbed the envoy by his shoulders and forced the man to address him. "Are you here to negotiate, or aren't you?"

The envoy brushed the General's hand away. "I'm here to build the new Age. We are entering a dangerous new era, General—one that not even our Kings are prepared to enter despite their eagerness. The new challenges of this Age cannot be faced by a mindless flock. It must be carved only by those truly capable. I have known you for a long time. I have studied your victories and your principles, and I know what you stand for is something larger than yourself. You are the kind of person who should not be wasting away in a dead territory, abandoned by your leaders and forced into a losing war. You should be leading these men as you once did, bold and fearless as a grand nation. This is not the end of the world, General. This is a glorious new beginning. And I came a very long way to discuss that with you."

The General was stunned into silence. None of this was in the briefing. Was King Regalius in on this ploy? Was it all a grand trick? No, it couldn't be. He could see the sincerity in the envoy's eyes—the audacious, intoxicating sincerity. For the first time in what felt like eons, he had felt he was important again. He had no reason to trust this slinking diplomat, but his faith had already been shattered, and in that void, a new opportunity was able to take hold of him. Maybe, just possibly, the future wasn't as dark as it seemed.

"Who the hell are you anyway?"

The young envy extended his hand. "The name is Ozymandias Ozpin, Sir. But my friends call me Oz."

"Reminiscing, Oz?"

Ozpin opened his eyes. He stood on a soft, grassy plain. Warm blue skies cast sunshine on his head of white. Behind dark glasses, he scanned his surroundings. Food trucks, merchandise booths, games, and more were all in the process of being set up on the field, and local merchants eager to sell their wares. The Fairgrounds were a hotspot of activity once the Vytal Festival began. Soon, thousands would swarm these very hills, emptying their pocketbooks and partaking in the festivities. How many of those people knew the rich history of the very path on which they stood? His cane sunk into dew-covered grass.

"So… yes?"

His companion, Glynda Goodwitch, stood a few feet across from him. She was a notable improvement from General Kai—maybe not in temperament, but in sheer power, she was unmatched. The last few weeks hadn't been kind to her, but he had made it up to her by allowing her to join him to Vytal, despite any objections he might receive from the press. In these dire times, he didn't much care for their opinions, and she was technically allowed to attend the same as anyone else. She took the opportunity in stride, doing up her hair in its trademark bun and properly applying her makeup. She even buttoned up her shirt properly, which was nice of her. Ozpin could not do anything to fix her constant sneering, however. Baby steps.

"Apologies," Ozpin sighed. "This place brings back a lot of memories."

"Yes, I'm quite aware," Goodwitch said, crossing her arms. "Though I'd much rather have you here in the moment."

"It's just," Ozpin tapped his cane against the soil, "it was this spot, right here. I remember it like it was yesterday. There was so much despair, Glynda, like you wouldn't believe. And yet, I felt so much optimism for the future. It all seemed so simple, an easier way forward than what we had done before. I long for that feeling sometimes."

"I bet you do," Goodwitch grunted, "considering that everything is currently—"

"Don't say it."

"—fucked."

Ozpin took a deep breath. Yes, okay, it was that. Ruling the world in secret was actually much harder than he anticipated. As a King, one could merely banish dissenters and squash oppositions under a soldier's heel. But managing the press? The police? A council and public opinion that constantly swayed and flowed like the raging tide? He had been pushed to his limits, his carefully constructed rule threatening to crumble in only a hundred years. But it was worse than that. There were very few times a threat could truly be considered apocalyptic. The "end of the world" seemed to happen far too frequently for him to take it seriously. Life usually moved on just fine. But this was different. His failure would not just bring about the end of the current Age, but of all Ages.

And it was all because of them.

Those girls who defied him at every opportunity.

Those girls who turned his institutions against him.

Those girls who knew too much and understood too little.

Those girls who now had the chance for the power to change the world.

His grip tightened on his cane. Goodwitch sensed his unease.

"We won't let them win, Oz. No matter what we have to do, they are not getting their filthy hands on that Grail."

Yet, there was only so much he could do. The sky turned dark, and Ozpin looked up. Floating high above the Fairgrounds, a massive stadium cast the surrounding hills in shadow. Amity Colosseum—an eighty-thousand-capacity arena where some of the greatest battles of the past one hundred years had been held. Up in the sky, those girls would have the chance to steal everything from him. He had competitors under his thumb, and he had faith in their abilities, but would it be enough? Those girls were clever, adaptable, and fierce. He was merely a spectator now, forced to watch the pieces play out beyond his control.

"I truly hope you're right, Glynda," Ozpin confessed. "Because I don't know what we will do if they succeed."

Ruby stood on the floor of a great airship, staring out its front window. Fly in Style to Vytal, said the slogan, but she felt as if she was trapped in a giant metal cage. Perhaps that was a trick of her own mind. The airship should have been freeing. It gave her plenty of space to be by herself, and her teammates all had the opportunity to lounge in the wide, luxurious area behind her. The clouds in front of her parted easily, leaving nothing but blue, open skies. It was a fantastic divergence from Atlas Academy, which felt more like swimming with sharks than attending a Huntsman school. Yet the demons in her thoughts prevented her from truly enjoying anything. Worrying about what to come next… and reflecting on what had been.

RWBY, JNPR, and CFVY. Together: Team (Not Yet) Best Friends of Youth, Power, Radiance and Charisma, Revolting for Justice, Wisdom, and Virtue—Team NYBF, for short. They had all entered the Vytal Festival by a combination of luck, will, and a healthy amount of bribery. A few weeks ago, they had nearly been killed in an ancient, underground Vault of a dead civilization. Hell, one of them might have actually been killed, though she was better now. A pitch-black stain on Ruby's hand was a constant reminder of the power it took to revive her. It was hard to know what was going through their heads. Were they comfortable with what they had to do? Could they withstand the pressure? She heard them talking among themselves but didn't listen to any of the details. She could only suspect their unease and excitement.

Gentle footsteps from behind caught Ruby off-guard. She turned and saw her sister approaching her, multi-colored eyes staring at her with suspicion. Yang had maybe the most eventful week out of all of them: coming out with her new pronouns, receiving medical care from the body morpher Stiltskin, and being re-cleared for combat—plus restarting their relationship with Blake. They had a certain pep in their step, a new lease on life. Ruby wished she could share their enthusiasm. There was a long metal railing separating the lounge from the window, and Yang rested her arms atop it as they kicked up their feet behind them.

"What you thinkin' about, sis?"

Ruby flexed her fingers, their inky shade hidden beneath a leather glove. "A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Remember the first time we ever watched a Vytal Tournament?"

Yang smirked, the memory flooding back to them. "It was three Festivals ago, right?"

"It was right before Mom passed. She had to argue with Dad to let us watch it since he thought we were too young. We probably were."

"Yeah," Yang shook her head. "Pretty sure a dude got his arm cut off in one of those matches. That was traumatizing."

Ruby could only laugh. If they only knew what was in store next... "I remember looking up to Mom and asking her if I could participate when I was older. We both wanted to compete together since she never had the chance to."

"And then she told us that if we got into Beacon when we were supposed to, our years wouldn't line up."

"But that only made it better, because then we could each be winners."

"We ran around celebrating like we had just won," Yang smiled. They leaned over the railing, staring out at the clouds. "God, we were idiots, weren't we?"

"We were kids," Ruby said defensively. She didn't know why she had to defend it. Kids were very stupid. But maybe her nostalgia had her pining for the last of her youth that hadn't been totally crushed by the last several months.

"I mean, we had no idea just how absolutely fucked everything was," Yang sighed. "Like, did you ever think we would be competing in Vytal like this?"

For a magical chalice that will turn one of us into a God if we drink it? To stop her headmaster or Atlas from taking over the world? No, Ruby couldn't say that she had. She really couldn't have foreseen any of the past year. Not Rosaline, not the Grimm, not even falling for Weiss. Maybe she was still the stupid one.

As if summoned by a mere thought, Weiss and Blake approached the two of them. Weiss gently wrapped her arms around Ruby's torso and plunged her lips into the nape of her neck. Blake slinked to the rail, leaning against it to face the others.

"What are you talking about?" she asked dully.

"How fucked we are," Yang said casually.

"Neat."

"Did either of you ever watch Vytal growing up?" Ruby asked.

Weiss hummed into her neck. "Of course. For a family of the Knight, it was one of the most important events of the year. Winter would have done great if she was able to compete."

The memory sounded somewhat pained, and Ruby instantly noticed. Winter was allegedly at the top of her class, but she remembered nothing of her competing in something as prestigious as Vytal. She wasn't sure what circumstances would deny her, though given the complexities of the Schnee family history, she could think of some cruel reasons. She opted not to press the issue, though she kept it in the back of her mind for when she saw Winter next.

"You, Blake?" Yang wondered. Blake shrugged.

"Vytal was definitely popular on some of Menagerie, but Ilia was the Huntress fan, not me. It always left me with a bad feeling when I watched people cheer a kid getting brutally murdered."

"That's reasonable, we guess," Yang stated. "But, well, you're here now."

"Yep. With you jackasses. Love that for us."

The others smiled, though Ruby was forced to hold her tongue. Of all the surprises the past year had given her, the biggest was just how much she cared about her team. With the whole world either turned against them or entranced by their every move, having a group of friends she could trust meant more than she could ever put into words. Even though she had confidence in the rest of Team NYBF, Weiss, Blake, and Yang were the only people she would give her life for. But in the Vytal Festival, she couldn't protect them, and they couldn't protect her. An average of two people died per tournament—unlikely, but a very real possibility when faced with so many challenging opponents. If something happened to them, she didn't know what she would do. That was why their victories were so important.

To keep themselves safe.

To keep their loved ones safe.

To keep everyone on Remnant safe.

They had to win.

The airship trembled. Ruby was caught off-guard, her mind briefly jumping to the worst-case scenario. However, it wasn't long before the ship was rocked again, this time by a powerful, distant roar.

A shadow rushed by the window. Massive wings lined with sharp, green scales filled Ruby's view. She saw the flash of gnawing teeth and a golden, reptilian eye. A dragon, as big as the airship and equally as fierce, swooped past them. Sammy, the mascot of Beacon Academy, tore through the clouds and hurled itself toward the land below.

Through the path it carved across the sky, the way forward was clear. Far below, Ruby could now see a dragon-print-shaped island: rolling green hills and gentle waves splashing up against manmade canals. She could see the rustic, coastal city of Li Caccia on its northern edge—the Town of the Huntsmen. Floating above the landmass, she saw the imposing floating dome of Amity Colosseum, held aloft by gravity Dust, rockets, and billions in taxpayer funds. From up high, it seemed so small, yet she knew better than to doubt its imposing sky. She couldn't help but gasp at the sight of it, and even her teammates were taken aback by the sheer beauty of the island, the warm paradise that would welcome tens of thousands to its shores.

Soon, it would be home to bloodshed and despair.

But for the moment, Ruby could take a breath and reflect.

She made it. They all made it.

"Girls," she stated. "Welcome to Vytal."