Disclaimer: Don't own either Rwby or Type Moon. So enjoy or don't
Chapter 34: Revelations and Truths
Jinn's eyes glowed brighter, radiating an intense azure light that filled the air with an almost otherworldly energy. Snow whipped around them as icy winds howled in the distance, a stark reminder of their journey north through Anima, heading toward Argus. But the cold was soon forgotten, their surroundings becoming a mere backdrop as the power of the Relic took hold, drawing them into a vision of the past.
They found themselves in a lush, vibrant world, untouched by the darkness they knew. Towering mountains stretched toward the heavens, and shimmering rivers flowed through vast, fertile lands. It was a time when the world was young, ruled by the Gods, with no sign of the Grimm or the devastation that would come to define their world.
And then they saw her—Salem, in her human form, a figure of grace and beauty. She stood before the Gods, her heart heavy with grief, her hands outstretched in desperation as she pleaded for the one she loved most in the world. Ozma, her partner, had fallen ill, his life extinguished too soon. The group watched, mesmerized, as Salem's sorrow turned into a desperate plea, begging the Gods to return him to her.
The God of Light and the God of Darkness appeared, towering above the mortal woman. Their immense power radiated through the vision, their presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The God of Light, filled with compassion, spoke of balance and the natural order of life and death. The God of Darkness, impatient and cold, dismissed Salem's request with indifference.
But Salem would not accept their judgment. In her grief and desperation, she defied the very Gods, demanding that they undo what had been done. The vision showed her defiance as she sought to turn humanity against the Gods, inciting rebellion and urging mankind to follow her in challenging the divine order. The landscape shifted, showing cities ablaze, armies rising, and the echoes of war reverberating across the land.
The group could only watch in horror as the Gods retaliated.
The God of Light and the God of Darkness, united in their wrath, struck down humanity in a single moment. With a wave of their hands, they obliterated Salem's rebellion, reducing entire civilizations to dust. The land itself shattered, the earth trembling beneath their power, leaving nothing but ruins where cities once stood. The world was wiped clean of human life, a punishment for Salem's defiance.
Yet Salem herself was spared—cursed, not destroyed. The Gods cast upon her the most terrible punishment they could devise: eternal life. Immortal, ageless, and undying, Salem was doomed to walk the earth forever, never able to join Ozma in death, forever separated from the one she loved. Her immortality was a prison, and her grief became an endless cycle of pain and bitterness.
The landscape changed again, now dark and foreboding. Salem, consumed by her rage, wandered the world alone. As centuries passed, she became twisted and vengeful, her hatred festering with each passing year. Finally, she came upon the Pool of Grimm, a churning, black abyss at the heart of the world. With no hope left, Salem submerged herself in the pool, letting its corruption take hold of her.
The group recoiled as they watched Salem's transformation. Her once-beautiful form twisted into something monstrous, her pale skin becoming an even paler shade of snow white, her eyes glowing red with hatred. She emerged from the pool as the first true embodiment of the Grimm—no longer human, no longer bound by the laws of the world. She was a creature of darkness, a force of chaos.
The scene shifted again. This time, the group saw Ozma's reincarnation. The Gods, in a strange twist of mercy, had decided to give him another chance at life. Ozma was reborn, tasked with protecting the world from destruction, armed with the knowledge of the four Relics, each imbued with the power to shape the fate of humanity.
Then came a reunion—Ozma and Salem, face to face once more. But this was not the reunion of lovers. It was the meeting of two souls who had been forever altered by the weight of their respective curses. They tried to rebuild their lives together, forming a family, seeking to restore some semblance of normalcy. For a time, they succeeded. They had children, and for a fleeting moment, they were happy.
But the happiness did not last. Their views on how to handle their cursed existence diverged—Ozma still held hope for humanity, still believed in the Gods' plan, while Salem had descended into madness, consumed by her hatred for the Gods and her desire for power. The vision showed their falling out in stark, heartbreaking detail—the destruction of their family, the tragic end to any hope they had of reconciling their differences.
The vision fast-forwarded through the centuries, showing Ozma's many lives. With each reincarnation, he sought to fulfill his mission, but no matter how many lives he lived, no matter how many times he tried, the weight of his task grew heavier. He could not defeat Salem. Time and time again, their paths crossed, but he found that she had become an unstoppable force.
As the years passed, Ozma's reincarnations became more desperate. Each new life was burdened with the knowledge that Salem could not be killed, could not be defeated. He watched entire generations fall to her influence. Kingdoms rose and crumbled under her hand. And through it all, the Relics remained a temptation, a beacon of hope for those who sought to use their power.
The vision reached its climax as Jinn revealed the ultimate truth—the truth Ozpin had kept hidden from everyone: There is no way to defeat Salem. All of his lives, all of his efforts, had been in vain. Humanity's greatest enemy could not be destroyed by any means known to man or God. The very person they had been fighting to defeat was, in fact, unkillable.
The blue glow of Jinn's vision faded, leaving the group standing once again in the biting cold of the tundra. The howling wind seemed to fill the silence that followed, but none of them could speak. They were all processing what they had just witnessed—the devastating truth that Ozpin had hidden for lifetimes. The revelation that Salem couldn't be killed left a profound, hollow feeling in their chests.
Ruby, who had stepped forward so bravely to summon Jinn, now stood with her hands trembling at her sides. Her wide silver eyes stared blankly ahead as if struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what they had just seen. The optimism that usually burned so brightly within her seemed snuffed out, replaced by a growing sense of dread. For the first time, Ruby felt the true weight of the war they were fighting—a war they could never win.
She glanced at Oscar, who stood frozen, pale, and visibly shaken. The boy's face was a mixture of guilt and fear, as if the burden of Ozpin's many lifetimes had finally come crashing down on him. Ruby wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how to process her own emotions, let alone help someone else right now.
Next to her, Yang clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her golden eyes flickered with fury, the fire inside her stoked by the injustice of it all. The story they had been told felt like a betrayal—a sick twist of fate that made all of their struggles seem pointless. "So that's it?" Yang muttered through gritted teeth, her voice thick with anger. "We've been fighting a battle we can't even win? All of this… for nothing?"
Her words echoed in the icy air, but they were met with silence. No one had an answer. Yang's eyes flickered toward her sister, but the look on Ruby's face only deepened her frustration. She wanted to punch something, anything, just to release the overwhelming rage she felt inside. How could they have come this far only to learn that there was no way to end Salem's reign of terror?
Blake stood beside her, her expression more subdued but equally troubled. Her amber eyes flickered with emotion—fear, sorrow, and something deeper: empathy. While Blake's heart ached at the enormity of the situation, she also understood the despair Salem must have felt all those years ago. The image of the woman who had lost everything—the person she loved, her humanity, and her future—struck a painful chord within Blake's own heart. She had fought against the worst parts of herself, but Salem had embraced them. The path Salem had taken was one of bitterness and hatred, but Blake understood, on some level, why she had made those choices. Still, it didn't make the truth any easier to swallow.
Weiss was silent, her face carefully composed, but her icy blue eyes betrayed the turmoil beneath. She had spent years believing in the importance of their fight, in the justice of defeating Salem, but now she couldn't help but feel the sting of hopelessness creeping in. Weiss had always been pragmatic, but even she found it difficult to accept the reality they now faced. Her thoughts turned to her family, to Atlas, and to the future they were supposed to be fighting for. What was the point of it all if Salem couldn't be stopped?
And then there was Qrow. His reaction was the most explosive. The seasoned Huntsman had remained stoic throughout the vision, his grim features barely shifting, but as the truth sank in, something inside him snapped. His eyes narrowed, and the usual dull, cynical expression he wore darkened with rage. "You lied to us," he growled, turning toward Oscar, or rather, toward Ozpin. "You lied about everything."
Oscar flinched at the accusation, the young boy looking helpless under Qrow's furious gaze. Qrow stepped forward, his fists trembling at his sides, barely holding himself back. "You knew we couldn't win, and yet you let us fight! You let all of them die… for what? For some twisted game? For hope that doesn't exist?"
Qrow's voice cracked as he spoke, the emotional weight finally breaking through his hardened exterior. His eyes were wild, desperate, a mixture of betrayal and sorrow clouding his judgment. For all the battles he had fought, all the people he had lost, to learn that it had all been for nothing was too much for him to bear.
In a split second, Qrow lunged forward, his fist raised as if to strike Oscar. But before his punch could land, Shirou stepped in, catching Qrow's wrist with one hand. The force of the impact was enough to cause the snow beneath their feet to shift, but Shirou held firm.
"Stop!" Shirou's voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to it. His golden eyes met Qrow's in a silent plea for reason. "This isn't helping."
Qrow struggled against him, his emotions getting the better of him, but Shirou's grip was unyielding. There was a weight behind his words, an authority that made Qrow hesitate. Shirou's calm demeanor belied the inner turmoil he felt, but even in this moment, he could see the futility in Qrow's anger. He had seen this before—rage born of despair, lashing out because there was nothing else to do. It reminded him of Archer, of the path he had walked in his own world.
Shirou's expression softened slightly, his voice low but firm. "We need to stay focused. This changes things, but it doesn't mean we should give up. Not yet."
Qrow, still trembling, looked down at the ground, his anger slowly ebbing away. He pulled his wrist free from Shirou's grasp but didn't strike. Instead, he let out a deep, shaky breath, the fight draining out of him. He stumbled back a few steps, looking utterly defeated.
As Qrow stepped back from Shirou, the tension in the group thickened, the cold air of the tundra biting more sharply than before. Qrow's anger wasn't gone—it had just shifted. His sharp, red eyes narrowed on Shirou with suspicion. He wasn't letting this go.
"You've been way too calm through all of this," Qrow muttered, his voice rough but controlled. "When Ozpin took control of Oscar back there, it didn't even surprise you. Not even a flinch."
The rest of the group turned to Shirou, their gazes filled with a mix of confusion and doubt. Yang crossed her arms, her frown deepening as her fiery eyes darted between Qrow and Shirou. Weiss looked at Shirou with a suspicious glare, while Ruby kept her silence, though her silver eyes studied him carefully. Even Blake, who had always trusted Shirou's steady presence, seemed shaken by Qrow's words.
Qrow took another step forward, his suspicions hardening into something more. "You've been holding back on us. The way you fight, the weapons you summon… I've seen a lot of fighters, but I've never seen anyone like you. And that sword you pulled out back on the train… that wasn't just some trick. That was something else entirely."
Shirou remained still, his expression impassive as Qrow continued.
"You're hiding something—just like Ozpin." Qrow's voice was colder now, the accusation hanging in the air, heavy with meaning.
The weight of Qrow's words hit hard, especially after everything the group had just witnessed about Ozpin's past. Trust had been shaken, and now Qrow was pointing the same accusing finger at Shirou, casting doubt over everything they thought they knew about him.
Yang clenched her fists at her sides, stepping forward with a hard edge in her voice. "Qrow's right. You've been with us, fought with us, but every time we ask about where you came from, you dodge the question. You're hiding something, Shirou. What is it?"
Her tone wasn't just angry; it was hurt. She, like the rest of them, had placed her trust in Shirou, and counted on him in battle. If he had been hiding something important from them, she had every right to be angry.
Blake finally spoke, her voice quieter but filled with concern. "We've been through a lot together. We're not accusing you of anything… but after everything we've seen today, we need to know. You owe us that much."
Her amber eyes softened slightly, and she held Shirou's gaze for a moment longer, her expression more conflicted than accusatory. She wasn't like Yang or Qrow, demanding answers. Blake simply wanted to understand. She had carried secrets of her own before and knew the damage they could do. Now, she sensed that Shirou might be carrying a burden too.
Weiss didn't speak, but her icy blue eyes were calculating, as if piecing together every unexplained moment they had shared with Shirou. After the revelation about Ozpin, her tolerance for deception had dwindled.
Ruby was the last to speak, her voice softer but tinged with sadness. "Shirou… I thought we could trust you. But now… I don't know."
Her silver eyes, usually filled with hope, now held uncertainty. Ruby had always believed in the best in people, but after the vision, after learning the truth about Ozpin, doubt had crept in.
The group waited for Shirou to speak, but he remained quiet. The trust they had placed in him felt fragile now, hanging by a thread. They deserved answers, but Shirou gave none. The tension between them deepened, the cold wind biting through the stillness as their questions hung in the air, unanswered.
As the biting winds of the tundra howled around them, Jinn's towering form remained still, her glowing eyes casting an ethereal light over the group. Her voice, smooth and echoing, cut through the cold air with an authority that could not be ignored.
"You have witnessed the truth of Ozpin and Salem's past," she began, her gaze sweeping over them, "but there are still mysteries that remain—secrets hidden in plain sight."
The glowing blue of her eyes intensified as she turned toward Shirou. The rest of the group followed her gaze, their expressions shifting from confusion to suspicion, all except for Blake, who had spent more time with Shirou than the rest. She had noticed the subtleties in his actions, the small moments when he seemed to know more than he let on. Even now, her amber eyes were filled with concern rather than anger, though she still had her own questions.
Jinn's attention, however, was focused solely on Shirou. "I have watched the world since my creation," she said, her voice growing softer but more pointed. "I have seen the rise and fall of civilizations, witnessed both hope and despair, and yet… I have never encountered someone quite like you, Shirou Emiya."
The weight of her words settled heavily over the group. For a being like Jinn, whose very existence was tied to the history of the world, to single out Shirou carried a significance that none of them could ignore.
"You are… different," Jinn said, her glowing eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce through the layers of Shirou's soul. "Your essence is foreign to this world—your soul is unlike anything I have encountered in all my time. It is filled with weapons and concepts that do not belong here. They speak of another world, one beyond the limits of Remnant."
In her words, the tension among the group deepened. Yang frowned, her arms crossed as her fiery gaze shifted between Jinn and Shirou, trying to make sense of the revelation. Weiss's icy blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, while Qrow muttered something under his breath, though his expression was more serious now, the implications sinking in.
But it was Blake who seemed most affected. Her eyes, always observant, widened slightly as she processed Jinn's words. She had suspected there was more to Shirou, but the idea that he came from another world—that his very soul was a mystery even to someone like Jinn—was something far beyond what she had imagined. She had trusted Shirou, had fought beside him, but now…
"Another world?" Blake finally spoke, her voice soft but filled with an edge of unease. "What… what does she mean, Shirou?"
Her question wasn't an accusation, but rather a plea for clarity. Blake had always been perceptive, picking up on the details others might miss. She had seen the way Shirou fought, the way he seemed to hold back, and now, with Jinn's insight, it was clear there was more to him than any of them realized.
Jinn continued, her voice low and thoughtful. "The weapons I saw within your soul… they do not belong to this realm. They are concepts of power and steel, forged in a place beyond the reach of Remnant's magic. Your existence defies the natural order of this world. Tell me, Shirou Emiya—where do you truly come from?"
Her words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable. The group waited, their eyes now fixed on Shirou, the weight of their trust balancing on the edge of his answer. Yang stepped closer, her voice tight with barely restrained frustration. "What is she talking about, Shirou? You've been fighting with us, but you've never said where you're from."
Even Weiss, who had been quieter up until now, spoke, her voice sharp. "If there's something you've been hiding… Now's the time to come clean."
Blake, however, looked at Shirou with more than just suspicion. She had seen his strength, his resolve, and now, the truth behind it was slipping out in ways none of them had anticipated. She stepped forward, her amber eyes softening just slightly, though her tone was still serious. "Shirou… if there's more to your story, we need to know. Please."
Her words, filled with quiet understanding, hung in the air alongside Jinn's. Blake had always been empathetic, someone who knew the weight of keeping secrets. But now, even she was searching for answers. The cold tundra winds howled once again, the group's silent questions hanging in the air, waiting for Shirou to break the silence.
Shirou stood frozen in the center of the group, the weight of their stares pressing down on him like an unbearable force. The winds of the northern tundra howled around them, but the cold air wasn't nearly as biting as the tension that hung between him and his companions. Jinn's words had exposed him, laid bare the unspoken questions that had been simmering under the surface. His secret, the truth he had guarded since arriving in Remnant, could no longer be ignored.
Shirou could feel the weight of Blake's gaze on him the most. She had always been observant, picking up on details that others might have missed. And now, she was the one closest to unraveling the truth, her amber eyes filled not with accusation, but with concern—a concern that cut him deeper than anything the others could have said. The trust they had built, the quiet moments they shared, all of it now threatened by the questions Jinn had raised.
"I didn't want it to come to this," Shirou said softly, breaking the silence that hung in the frozen air. His voice was low, hesitant, as if every word he spoke carried the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. "I didn't want to burden you all with my past. I thought… I thought I could just help you without dragging everything with me."
Yang's frustration boiled over, her fists clenched at her sides as she took a step forward. "We've all got burdens, Shirou. But we've been fighting together, trusting each other. And now you're telling us that there's a whole part of you we don't even know?"
Weiss's icy gaze narrowed, her arms crossed as she added, "If you're going to fight alongside us, we deserve to know the full truth. No more secrets."
Even Ruby, though quiet, looked at Shirou with wide, questioning eyes. But it was Blake who spoke next, her voice softer, filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Shirou… we've trusted you. I've trusted you. But I need to know—why haven't you told us where you're really from?"
Her words cut deep, and Shirou felt the weight of them pressing on his conscience. She wasn't angry, but the disappointment in her voice made it clear that the time for hiding was over.
He looked around at his companions—his friends—and realized there was no way out. He couldn't keep running from the truth, not anymore. But explaining everything, his past, his origins, and the strange journey that brought him to Remnant, wasn't something that could be done with words alone. They needed to see it.
"I can't explain it all—not in a way that would make sense," Shirou said, his voice firmer now, though still tinged with regret. He turned his gaze toward Jinn, the ethereal figure watching him with those glowing, piercing eyes. "But… maybe you can."
Jinn's eyes glowed brighter as she regarded Shirou with intrigue. Her towering form remained still, her presence like a force of nature in the cold tundra. "You wish for me to show them your past?" she asked, her voice carrying a weight of ancient wisdom.
Shirou nodded. "Yes. I want them to see where I came from. All of it."
The rest of the group tensed at his words. The idea of seeing Shirou's past was daunting, especially after everything they had just witnessed about Ozpin and Salem. But there was no turning back now. If they were to continue fighting together, they needed to understand who Shirou really was.
Jinn paused for a moment, considering his request, before nodding slowly. "Very well," she said, her voice deep and resonant. "I will show them the truth of your past."
Shirou stood frozen in the center of the group, the weight of their stares pressing down on him like an unbearable force. The winds of the northern tundra howled around them, but the cold air wasn't nearly as biting as the tension that hung between him and his companions. Jinn's words had exposed him, laid bare the unspoken questions that had been simmering under the surface. His secret, the truth he had guarded since arriving in Remnant, could no longer be ignored.
Shirou could feel the weight of Blake's gaze on him the most. She had always been observant, picking up on details that others might have missed. And now, she was the one closest to unraveling the truth, her amber eyes filled not with accusation, but with concern—a concern that cut him deeper than anything the others could have said. The trust they had built, the quiet moments they shared, all of it now threatened by the questions Jinn had raised.
"I didn't want it to come to this," Shirou said softly, breaking the silence that hung in the frozen air. His voice was low, hesitant, as if every word he spoke carried the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. "I didn't want to burden you all with my past. I thought… I thought I could just help you without dragging everything with me."
Yang's frustration boiled over, her fists clenched at her sides as she took a step forward. "We've all got burdens, Shirou. But we've been fighting together, trusting each other. And now you're telling us that there's a whole part of you we don't even know?"
Weiss's icy gaze narrowed, her arms crossed as she added, "If you're going to fight alongside us, we deserve to know the full truth. No more secrets."
Even Ruby, though quiet, looked at Shirou with wide, questioning eyes. But it was Blake who spoke next, her voice softer, filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Shirou… we've trusted you. I've trusted you. But I need to know—why haven't you told us where you're really from?"
Her words cut deep, and Shirou felt the weight of them pressing on his conscience. She wasn't angry, but the disappointment in her voice made it clear that the time for hiding was over.
He looked around at his companions—his friends—and realized there was no way out. He couldn't keep running from the truth, not anymore. But explaining everything, his past, his origins, and the strange journey that brought him to Remnant, wasn't something that could be done with words alone. They needed to see it.
He turned toward Jinn, the glowing spirit who hovered above them with an otherworldly grace. "I can't explain it all… not like this," Shirou admitted. "But maybe you can show them. Show them the truth about where I came from."
Jinn's eyes glimmered with intrigue as she regarded Shirou, her towering figure unmoving in the icy winds. Without a word, she reached forward and gently placed her hand on Shirou's upper body, just over his chest. The others watched, breath held, as Jinn's power surged forth. Her eyes began to glow brighter, filling with ancient, knowing energy.
"With a single request, I can show them the truth," Jinn said, her voice echoing through the frozen tundra. "But be warned, Shirou Emiya, what is revealed cannot be undone."
Shirou nodded, his gaze resolute. "I understand. Show them everything."
With a graceful wave of her hand, Jinn's power enveloped them all, and the world around them shifted once again. The snow and ice of northern Anima began to dissolve into a shimmering mist, replaced by a vision of Shirou's past—one that none of them could have expected.