You were all thinking it, don't tell me you weren't.

Hell, you can't tell me you weren't. This is my official headcannon, screw everything else. Nopenopenope, I'm not listening to any counter arguments.

I need this. I need this so badly, dammit.

I don't own Homestuck or Code Geass.


Sometimes, Lelouch would remember.

He would remember a world where he was happy and sad and so so very angry.

"Lelouch Vi Britannia commands you…obey me subjects! Obey me world!"

He wanted the world to feel his hatred, the anger he kept bottled inside for a single girl, so innocent, she was all his.

He wanted to make the world beautiful, just for her. He wanted her to see it with her violet eyes, eyes they inherited from their detestable Emperor, the man that dared to call himself a father.

Lelouch just wanted her to be happy. His plans spiraled out of control as more wormed their way into his frozen heart. Two, three, four, soon a revolution was in his breast pocket, too close to his heart, far too close.

And they betrayed him.

And he found his father.

So, Lelouch killed the Emperor, creating a plan that would end in the peace his precious sister desired.

All he needed to do…was die.

Die and stay the monster that they all believed he was. Die and be the hero the world never knew it needed. Die and suffer forever for all of the people he killed, all the families he destroyed.

He just wanted to cut off the endless circle of hate, for her, for him, for all of them.

"I destroy worlds…and create worlds."

But, the God of C's World barred its doors to his interference. Lelouch, a mere memory, a shade of himself, was left to wander the depths of reality, alone.

He met nothing on his travels. The world was cold and silent and desiulte.

Lelouch Vi Britannia, the Demon Emperor of the World, ordered life into creation.

The good and the bad, he created a world of destruction and creation. Both sides of the man he once was.

Zero, the dark hero, and Lelouch Lamperouge, the lily-white Vice President of Ashford Academy. He pulled from both sides of himself, creating and molding beings into reality.

They were smooth, like the chess pieces he used to carry around with him. Carefully, he separated them, white and black pieces, on two different planets. Maybe one day, the two sides, Black and White, would meld together.

But, Lelouch knew they were too different, at odds till the end of time.

And he was happy for a time. There were beings he could whisper to, manipulate and watch over. His Queens would smile at him and his Kings would laugh with him.

Lelouch did not mean to become a god, but he did not regret it. His creations loved him, and that's all that mattered.

It did not last. Lelouch didn't understand why he thought it would. Nothing lasted for him. Not Mother, not Nunnally, not Ashford, not the Rebellion. Definitely, definitely, not happiness.

Lelouch favored his Black pieces over the white, if only because they reminded him so closely of his beloved Rebellion. The White represented a school that he helped destroy, children that he helped kill.

No, Lelouch was not ready to face that failure, not yet, not so soon.

They started to fight, clashing over their god. Red blood painted another chess board as Lelouch watched in horror.

When the Queens fell, falling onto the corpses of their Kings, he snapped.

With a roar, Lelouch commanded his little universe to stop, to go back to how it was before the hatred and anger.

Back to before they became like Lelouch, who never wanted anyone to become like him, never. Too much hate, too much blood on his hands.

He needed countermeasures, a system of checks and balances.

It took him five more tries before he had it prefect. He needed minor gods, beings that would regulate the carapacians (as they liked to be called), beings that would be designated to one color each.

The Horrorterrors, his mother and father and half-siblings, guarded his Black Pieces. The Genesis Frog, Suzaku and Nunally and Rolo, smiled on his White Pieces.

Yes, they would make sure such tragedies never happened again while Lelouch tinkered with his small world, playing with the rules of godhood.


The Horrorterrors and the Vast Croak did minimize the number of times Lelouch had to intervene and restart his reality, thankfully.

But, slowly, ever so slowly, his creations started to forget about him. They forgot about Gray Lelouch, the Lord of Balance and Creator.

Only his Rulers remembered him each time, sparing him a smile when he cast his gaze on the small worlds.

Lelouch did not allow this to deter him. He was too distracted with other matters. He was expanding his reality, hitting a few snags as he went. He started to play with his abilities.

Not wanting the worlds he was creating now to interfere with the delicate balance of his Pieces, Lelouch created a thin veil between the realities.

He named the first one Skaia, after the chess board planet that served as the battleground for his creations.

Lelouch never needed a name for the second one. From the start, he called it His Game.

Even as a primordial god of creation, Lelouch could not get rid of his skill of manipulation or love of strategy games.

He would admit, the first time someone played His Game was an accident.


Though Lelouch was a god and creator of another reality, he made sure to keep an eye on the universe he left behind when he abandoned his mortal shell.

He was the first to realize what was happening when meteors started to fall on his former home, smashing the Earth to dust. Souls were rejoining the God of C's World, who was screaming in pain as its world was slowly torn apart.

He could hear a child breathing, huddling in fear as a meteor aimed for their house.

It was a girl, only thirteen, but her eyes were a royal violet and her hair was a sandy brown, and she looked just like Nunnally.

Only she wasn't the sister he would have done anything for. Nunnally had lived a long life and joined Euphie and Suzaku in C's World at the wonderous age of 96.

Lelouch was forced to restart his small worlds when he noticed her passing, when all of his creations fell dead at his screams of grief.

But, this child looked so much like Nunnally. Her eyes were wide as she stared up in horror at the end of times, too young to have come to terms with her own mortality.

She was innocent, like Nunally had been, like Lelouch had been, once upon a time.

He didn't think about how his new worlds were not ready for habitation, or how he didn't create his reality for anything other than his creations when he commanded the universe to drop her on the Land of Life and Sorrow.

And his entire reality shifted.


By the time Lelouch understood what he had done, the girl was dead. The reality wasn't suited for her, crushing her before she had a chance to survive.

She had been too weak. Not like Kallen, his Q1 who was perfect, trained and stronger than anyone that dared try to stop her. But, there was potential.

Lelouch reached out, hesitant, and ordered his two worlds to meld together. Skaia centered itself between the world's he was creating, the worlds of his Black and White carapacians orbiting around the chess board planet.

Now, the Horrorterrors were too close to the light. No, they needed the darkness, the damp reached of space. With a wave of his hand, Lelouch banished the lower gods to beyond the circle of worlds, allowing the Black Pieces to trail behind. Cautious, he demanded a meteor belt into creation, further separating the dark gods.

They reminded him almost too well of his distant family. Lelouch almost shuttered at the thought.

He looked over the worlds with a critical eye. There was still so much work that needed to be done before he could allow anyone else to enter His Game.

It had to be prefect. It had to be strategical. It had to be Balanced.

Lelouch carefully formed angels out of his memories of the students that would trail after him at Ashford. Annoying, yes, but useful. They would make good subjects and companions.

He watched them form with a frown. Only a couple dozen more worlds. Just a little longer.


When His Game was complete, perfect, Lelouch reached out his control, searching for an intelligent being.

It took time, but he snagged five beings and dragged him into his reality. Eyeing them with intensity, he pulled apart their identity to place them in the careful constructs he created for his 'players'.

With advice from his Kings and Queens, Lelouch had created the perfect game. He would make these children, thirteen years old just like the Nunnally lookalike he failed, strong. So strong.

And they would survive.

Because he was helping them, they would survive and thrive and live and not bleed out on the floor like Mother or block out the world like Nunally or fall into a forced insanity like Euphie.

No. No, Lelouch would save them.

That's what benevolent gods did, after all. Even if they were former Demon Emperors.


Lelouch watched.

His Game had expanded without his careful hand, growing into a force stronger than he himself. Once it was introduced to other realities, it shattered the host, leaving billions to die.

Only the players, children that were created in the lab's of His Game, survived, pulled in to fight for their lives. Sometimes all of them died, sometimes a few died.

When they won, Lelouch watched in pride as they created their own worlds, formed their own people. Just like Lelouch had done.

And then, because those worlds were also touched by His Game, the cycle started all over again.

A world is created with the help of His Game and, eventually, the world dies at His Game's hand, dragging more children into the fray.

He was making them strong. They would be able to survive anything life threw at them after His Game. No more suffering, no more pain. Only power.

He was sad when the players had to kill his Pieces, but Lelouch knew they would return when the Game started all over again. They were return and they would still have forgotten about him.

Everyone had forgotten about him.

At least, everyone forgot until a strange little child, an Heiress, a Princess with eyes like Nunnally who wanted only happiness for her people smiled at him.

His Horrorterrors called her the Pisces.

Gl'bgolyb, the Horrorterror that so closely resembled tragic Euphemia, the Massacre Princess that tried to slaughter a race when he told her to, who never wanted to hurt anyone, whispered 'daughter-mine' into his awaiting ears.

Lelouch listened to the Heiress that smiled at him toothily and spoke honey sweet words. She was dead, just like Nunnally and Euphie, but he could still help her. Still save her.

He listened to her request and demanded it into existence.

All the dead that were connected to His Game gathered happily, rejoicing in their second chance.


He learned that the child was a part of a species called trolls, a species that had played His Game before, and lost.

He had granted them a boon and restarted their world, switching out the players. This second team, this Beta team, did well. They all survived till the end. Some were better than others, some were completely baffling to the god. (Why would someone kill the beings created to help them?) But, they still failed, in the end.

Lelouch traced the corruption, following the path through the reality the trolls created to watch the next game fall to pieces.

Four children, thirteen just like all the rest, were not prepared for their world to end. His Game pulled them in and spat them out, stronger than ever.

The blonde girl was entangled with the Horrorterror that he associated with Cornelia, who never gave up. She was entrenched in her darkness until the glitch that should never had existed, stabbed through her. Then she was just another body on the ground.

The blond boy followed the commands of one of the hidden trolls, trying to survive and live. He didn't want any of his friends to die and every second he regretted entering His Game.

The brunette girl was fluttering around, convinced she knew what she was doing. She was strong already, having been trained from a young age to survive. Lelouch watched her with interest.

The brunet boy was laughter and joy, full of positive attitude and kindness. He didn't understand how cruel His Game was, not until he stood beside the entangled child and stared at the blood pooling beneath his feet.

They learned their lessons brutally.

But they got stronger. They rose up, over their adversaries.

They were Heroes. They were Monsters. They were Gods.

And Lelouch smiled, reaching out to twist His Game.

With a little help, they would win.

They would die, and become gods.

Just like Lelouch had.

Yes, they would win.

He wouldn't fail KallenSuzakuRoloNunnally them. They would survive.

Even if he had to tear them apart and sew them back together.


(When I caught up to Homestuck, I swore I wouldn't write a story/one shot about it. I swore. Now look at me. Dammit Homestuck, why do you do this to me, I need to focus on my stories.)

So, Lelouch is a lonely, insane god of creation. It makes this even more fun to write!

I know I got a lot of facts wrong, or I left a lot of things out, but I can't bring myself to care right now. I just needed this out there as soon as I could.

(Imma just put this in my shame corner and walk away slowly. Don't mind me~)

I hope everyone liked this short oneshot! Now, Imma go work on my other stories, finally.