Eventually, practically every awakened still alive on the Crimson Moon had converged onto the battlefield.
Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Raven, Sun Wukong, and every other awakened who had managed to survive the chaos, arrived upon the vast battlefield overlooking the titanic chasm splitting the moon apart.
What had once appeared to be an endless wilderness of crimson terrain had become a sprawling military theater, with awakened flying in from every direction, some battered, some bloodied, some carrying wounded comrades, and others even arriving atop Grimm that had been converted into temporary mounts through runes, before being discarded at the edge of the enormous fissure.
The chasm itself was almost impossible to comprehend from their vantage point. It was not merely a canyon carved through stone but an absence, or rather, a wound in the moon's body that descended through layer after layer of crimson terrain and floating fragments, ultimately leading toward the very center of the Dream Moon. Far below, beyond the limits of ordinary sight, crimson radiance pulsed from the depths like the heartbeat of something impossibly vast.
The arrivals continued.
Even Penny Polendina had made it through the chaos, her strange existence as something between awakened human, and a Machine Spirit making her presence particularly surreal amid the gathering army with her machine-like body.
Pietro had arrived alongside her, visibly exhausted but very much alive, and the sight of father and daughter together had brought a brief sense of relief to those who knew them.
Merlot had also somehow survived the descent into the Crimson Moon, much to Pyrrha's displeasure, and although his continued presence was considerably less reassuring, at the very least, in the future, his expertise could still be put to use.
Some other surprising people had also shown up.
Criminals, for one.
Roman Torchwick, along with Neo, his diminutive partner who were apparently mercenaries. The three were being watched with the sort of attention normally reserved for unexploded ordnance.
Several Rank 2 awakened had even gone so far as to cuff them together and place them under constant supervision, despite Roman's increasingly creative arguments that he and his companions were perfectly capable of behaving themselves. His arguments had become progressively less convincing whenever his eyes wandered toward the chasm and the distant activity of Sleepless. Neo, naturally, had been considerably more difficult to read, but Winter Schnee had made certain that the woman remained where she was supposed to remain.
Comparatively speaking, it was these people that had caused a lot of deaths and strife. However, as much as killing them would bring justice, there was a greater justice in forcing them to life the rest of their lives in service.
That way they would serve their penance, then die.
In any case, this wasn't a time for debate against laws, good and evil. There was time for that later, if they somehow were able to escape this harrowing place.
There were others too.
Members of the major awakened gang groups, smaller organizations separate from LUCID and many others.
Many of the base commanders were already taking control of their respective forces. The battlefield was becoming organized rather than chaotic, with defensive formations being established, wounded being moved away from the front, and several rune specialists constructing temporary fortifications along the most vulnerable approaches.
The enormous numbers of awakened gathered there were finally beginning to create something resembling an army rather than a collection of survivors who had fallen through the sky.
Ren and Mocha eventually arrived as well.
Their arrival, however, carried with it unfortunate and terrible news to their friends, but the details of that tragedy belonged to another moment. For now, the two of them were simply another pair of exhausted awakened among hundreds, carrying knowledge that had changed them in ways that could not be hidden.
.
.
Far from the gathering army, however, Jaune and Qrow had a very different view of the unfolding situation.
They were aboard Taiyang's enormous eastern dragon form, riding along the upper currents of crimson runic energy while carefully skirting the edge of the titanic battlefield where the Rank 3 awakened were engaged with the monstrous Grimm. Taiyang's enormous body moved through the air with surprising grace for something large enough to cast a shadow across entire stretches of terrain. His body might have disturbed the currents around them, but the dragon kept his movements controlled, deliberately avoiding drawing attention from the combatants below.
The battle itself had become something beyond the scale of ordinary warfare.
From their distant position, individual movements were almost impossible to follow unless one possessed the heightened senses of a Rank 2. Even then, the combatants were moving at speeds that made them appear less like living beings and more like violent streaks of light crossing the horizon.
Entire sections of the crimson landscape disappeared beneath explosions.
Domains collided and tore apart the surrounding runic atmosphere. The Rank 3 Grimm were so enormous that their bodies occasionally emerged through the clouds of energy like moving mountain ranges, while the awakened attacking them appeared almost microscopic by comparison.
And then the barrier began to change. At first, it was subtle with a vibration passed through the air.
Then another.
Jaune noticed it before the others because his senses were already tuned toward the enormous crimson structure. The continental-sized barrier surrounding the core of the moon had begun emanating a strange frequency, not a sound exactly, but a vibration that resonated through the very fabric of the surrounding space. The air trembled and crimson light pulsed outward from the barrier in concentric waves, each pulse carrying immense quantities of runic energy.
The barrier was beginning to open.
Sort of.
In any case, the process had begun.
That realization carried two contradictory meanings.
It was terrible because Jaune's window to reach Knowledge, was rapidly closing. Once Tyrian initiated the final stage of the ritual, there would be very little room for improvisation. Yet it was also, strangely enough, a good thing. The process beginning meant the pieces were finally moving into position.
From this point onward, everything would become a race against time.
The barrier itself was unlike any ordinary defense. It was not simply a wall surrounding a location but the physical manifestation of the Nightmare System and an ancient seal, created to contain the very core of the Sleeper.
The vast structure surrounded what could be called Salem's heart.
Except calling it a heart was misleading.
The center of the moon was closer to a fusion between a brain and a heart, a massive biological and metaphysical core representing the central point of Salem's body. It was the place where her mind and power converged, and the barrier surrounding it existed for one fundamental purpose.
To keep her asleep.
The barrier possessed two primary functions.
Sealing.
And translocation.
The first was obvious but the second was considerably more complicated.
When Tyrian/Salem had forced the ritual that transferred the location of the Dream Realm into the physical world, dragging the Dream Moon into reality and forcibly teleporting the awakened onto it, they had required an immense catalyst.
That catalyst had been the Supreme Runes. Those were the only things that could be used as a catalyst as they were the founts of Salem's authority which was why Sleepless had needed to take possession of them.
However, the moment the ritual succeeded, the Supreme Runes disappeared from Sleepless's grasp and were translocated into the barrier itself, distributed throughout its structure at the four cardinal directions.
It had been the Life Creator's final failsafe.
A final defense designed for the possibility that every other layer of protection had failed and that someone had somehow reached Salem's body.
The irony was almost elegant. The ultimate source of Salem's power had been placed directly around her. At first glance, it seemed counterintuitive. If Salem's Supreme Runes were returned to her, wouldn't she simply use them to escape?
No.
Because Salem was asleep.
She had been asleep for an eternity.
Her consciousness could not simply rise and seize control of her body. The vast majority of her mind remained trapped beneath the seal, incapable of action. Only slivers of her awakened consciousness could escape, fragments small enough to seep through the cracks in reality and manifest through Nightmare zones and the rare circumstances that allowed her influence to touch the world.
The vast majority of Salem was still trapped within the eternal slumber forced to dream of the end of all life through her domain, the Dream Realm. The seal suppressed her mind and her power. And the Supreme Runes, despite being physically close to her, were therefore inaccessible in any meaningful sense.
That was what made the Nightmare System so ingenious. It did not merely imprison Salem but used Salem in her entirety.
The system continuously drew upon the virtually infinite reservoir of runic energy contained within the Sleeper and distributed fragments of that power to the creations of the Life Creator across the world. Every awakened was, in some distant sense, drawing upon Salem's strength by killing her grimm. Every rune that was made was another thread connecting the living world to the sleeping god beneath them.
The barrier had been constructed using the supreme might of a dead god and reinforced through what was effectively a sacrificial technique. It was designed specifically to withstand the impossible. Its purpose was not merely to resist physical destruction, but to deny the Sleeper the possibility of awakening for eternity.
Salem supplied the energy, the system maintained the seal and humanity received the power. It was an elegant cycle born from necessity. The Life Creator had created a prison whose prisoner was forced to power the civilization that had grown around her.
The civilization that she wished to see die.
Salem's vessel, Tyrian Callows, possessed runic capabilities beyond what a normal awakened could sustain. His two Supreme Master Runes, placed him in an entirely different category from ordinary Rank 3 awakened. His strength was enough to challenge all of the greatest beings alive at once and come out on top.
Yet, despite all of Tyrian's power as the strongest living human in history, the barrier was still beyond him.
Simply because he was a Rank 3.
Without that final step into true godhood, a Rank 3 could not overcome it. So Salem's consciousness in Tyrian had devised another method. Tyrian would not destroy the barrier, but would instead pry a tiny corner open.
Only slightly, as that was all that he could do. It was ironic to think that despite Tyrian Callows invincibility, all he could possibly do is to create a tiny breach in that barrier. A microscopic weakness through which he could force his body through.
And even that alone would require virtually everything he possessed.
Tyrian would need to expend his power until his rune and his domain was well and truly crippled. His runic energy and aura would be pushed towards a point of destruction, and then, and only then, would he cross the threshold of the barrier.
Yet his job wouldn't yet be over. Afterwards, he would need to self sacrifice his runes and his domain to create the necessary space within, for Salem's consciousness to descend fully. ANd finally, then and only then, would he be able to become the true host for the Matron of Slumbering Nightmares. The final vessel for the Horror that denies the Sun.
The Sleeper beyond the Grave.
That was why Tyrian could not simply join the battle against the Rank 3 awakened. He could not afford it.
His plan required absolute precision.
If Velik, Ozpin, Ironwood, or any of the other Rank 3s managed to force Tyrian into a prolonged confrontation, something would eventually go wrong. Tyrian might easily survive and kill them, but survival was not the objective.
The ritual was.
If he expended too much power fighting, the barrier would remain sealed.
Worse, if one of the Rank 3s launched a suicidal attack to stop him, Tyrian would be forced to waste extra energy to defend himself. Energy he simply couldn't afford to lose if he wanted to create that opening.
He needed to concentrate the entirety of his power on the barrier. Any loss of energy could cause a failure to transfer Salem into his body.
If he failed at that moment, the opportunity would be lost and worse, he and everyone else would remain trapped on Salem's body. There was no way for the awakened to return to Earth if the ritual failed, after the Dream Realm had been displaced.
Besides, there was one other reason to which he required these Rank 3's alive.
He needed them alive to harvest their power once Salem was fully within him. It would allow her to regain he peak strength much faster.
So the Rank 3s were fighting desperately to reach him while Tyrian was doing everything possible to avoid fighting them. In any case, they had already attempted to engage him earlier but he had simply fled and had allowed the Rank 3 Grimm to intercept them.
The result had been the titanic battle raging across the horizon.
The Rank 3s knew something was wrong when he ran away but they simply did not know exactly why he was doing as such.
Jaune did, however, thanks to his wonderful old man.
Or at least, he knew enough and then he saw something. A tiny point of movement against the colossal battlefield.
At first, it was almost impossible to distinguish, but Jaune's eyes narrowed and he recognized the silhouette.
His father.
Nicholas Arc stood at the far edge of the battlefield, separated from the main conflict.
Watching.
Thousands of kilometers away, the colossal barrier continued to pulse with crimson light. Every vibration caused another enormous wave of runic energy to ripple across its surface.
Nicholas stared directly at one particular section.
Waiting and watching.
Calculating.
He appeared almost insignificant against the enormous scale of the barrier. Yet Jaune knew better. His father had never needed to be physically imposing to become dangerous.
He had always been dangerous because he understood people and could control them like they were puppets dancing to his whims. He understood what everyone else wanted and, more importantly, what they were willing to sacrifice to obtain it.
Nicholas had deceived LUCID and Sleepless, playing both sides a fool while pursuing his own objective.
And now he was standing beside the mechanism that would determine whether Salem awakened. Jaune's gaze remained fixed upon him as Taiyang continued hovering through the crimson currents.
The barrier pulsed again and a massive wave of crimson energy rolled across the moon.
For a brief moment, father and son were separated by hundred of kilometers, countless Grimm, dozens of Rank 3 combatants, and the enormous barrier of a dead god.
Yet Jaune could feel the significance of the moment settling into place.
The game had reached its final board.
This was going to be... the final battle.