"Code Geass"

Salvation through Faith

Synopsis:

And so their messiah—for he was a messiah to them—said proudly, "Let there be salvation through faith; through me your Eden of tomorrow. For I have made a Faustian bargain, follow me and I will show you a world with no sin."

Chapter One: Paradise Lost

"With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat"

An excerpt from "Paradise Lost" by John Milton (1667).

ooo

Since the fall of Britannia, her crown jewel—Pendragon, was reduced to ruin. Slowly, time wore on against her gilded edges and silver flows of beauty, dressing her in rags and memories of times better had. Her children were brutalized and forced into poverty while the usurpers enjoyed freedom and peace.

On every surface were traces of her rebirth, scattered, and torn. Posters of Britannia's saviour—her messiah—Zero had been defamed everywhere. Graffiti was evident everywhere by both Japanese and Britannians. They were the only remnants of proof that Britannia had fought back after the cruel regicide.

And everywhere you could see Zero's motto, 'Let there be salvation through faith.'

The cruel reminder that Britannia no longer had any hope.

It's sickening, Suzaku thought, walking through the streets towards the Lion's Edge café.

Upon reaching his destination, he waited outside at the usual spot. Japanese walking past eyed him curiously, but said nothing; it was unusual for someone like him—someone Japanese—to be waiting outside a well-known surviving Britannian establishment. It was odd, he agreed, but it was completely necessary.

When the bell over the door chimed, Suzaku turned and—

"Suzaku!"

Suzaku laughed, holding onto her tightly, spinning her around to ease the momentum from her tackle. When it died down enough, he set her to her feet and smiled softly at her.

"And how was work today, CC?"

CC shrugged, slipping her arms from his neck. "Same old, same old. Lenard says that I'm the customer's favourite."

Shaking his head, Suzaku tapped her nose, wagging his finger. "Careful, CC, your vanity is showing."

Giggling, she took his arm and pulled him off in the direction of their apartment.

Suzaku always came to pick CC up from work. Lion's Edge was in a part of Pendragon that used to be the main street of the city. Now, all the affluent 'Britannian' areas were in ruin, a shell of what they once were—still inhabited by Britannians who could not let go of their past—of Zero.

As they passed another poster of the masked messiah, Suzaku clenched his fist.

So much blood was wasted and in the end the coward committed suicide—abandoning those he promised to rescue to their fates.

Such cowardice was unforgiveable.

"Suzaku?"

Shaking from his thoughts, he turned to CC. Her golden eyes laden with worry as she gripped his arm a bit tighter. He was almost shaking with fury and she could feel it.

"Sorry, CC, it's nothing."

"Alright then." A soft smile—CC knew better by now than to interrogate him further during his random lapses of rage.

Continuing on their way home, CC pointedly ignored all the stares they were receiving—including the insults tossed her way blatantly. Her golden eyes kept focused on Suzaku's face and Suzaku tried to watch her as much as possible while steering them both home. Even so, he could still feel her grip on his arm tighten every time his people mocked her—as if he weren't even there.

"Britannian bitch!"

Something was thrown at CC.

She gasped.

Spinning her around, Suzaku faced the assailant, knocking the projectile out of the way. The tomato splattered on the ground while a good chunk of it remaining on Suzaku's forearm. In a swift motion, he pulled out his gun and pointed it at the offender.

"Suzaku! No, it's alright!" CC cried, tugging at his gun arm. "Stop it! I'm fine!"

Angry emerald eyes fixed onto the hateful brown ones of a fruit seller. "Don't you dare!" he yelled. "I should—"

And suddenly he was looking at CC's stricken face. Tears were at the corner of her eyes. "Suzaku! It's fine! I'm fine! Stop it!"

Closing his eyes, taking a moment to calm himself, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes before cleaning off his arm. Pulling CC closer, wrapping a protective arm around her, he glared around at the other silent Japanese bystanders. Slowly, they all turned away, continuing on with their day as if nothing had happened.

They wouldn't have done anything if he had shot the man because Suzaku was Japanese.

But they hadn't done anything to discourage the man either.

"Come on, CC, we'll have to take 'that' way home again."

Nodding, CC followed his lead as he urged them both towards the Royal Plaza ghetto—once the very heart of the shopping district in Pendragon. Now it was reduced to ruin with a few Britannians still living there out of fear wherever they could. Dead Britannians weren't uncommon sights to find every day. It was even worse since there was no official police force in Pendragon.

The remaining Britannian police forces protected Britannians and the Japanese soldiers protected Japanese.

As they trekked down the side of a ruined building, climbing down into the ghetto, CC had continued chatting as usual, but now she had taken the liberty to look elsewhere. A Britannian ghetto was more comfortable to her than a Japanese district for her. It was a longer route home, but it was bereft of insults and name-calling. Suzaku always forgot this because she never complained when they went through Japanese districts.

Now he was cursing himself for forgetting.

Letting go of his arm once they crossed the threshold, CC ran around and look at the decayed remains of Britannia. She would pick up broken merchandise from various stores, inspect it for a moment, and then move onto something else—all the while keeping up constant chatter with him.

Suzaku liked seeing her so at ease and finally made the resolution that they would go home from her work through the ghettos. But he didn't like how uneasy it made the Britannians living in the slums when he walked through there—with or without her. They wouldn't harm CC, but they could—and would—kill him at a moment's notice. His was a recognizable face after all.

It wasn't safe anywhere for both of them when they were together.

It was unheard of for a Britannian to be coupled with Japanese after all. Even so, Suzaku wasn't about to leave her be. CC had amnesia, she had no idea who she was or what she was doing when he found her. All she knew was her name—which even Suzaku doubted to be real. Hopefully, she would regain her memories soon—but it seemed unlikely. So all he wanted for her was to be able to live life as happily as possible—especially considering her past, in that tattered pilot suit he found her in, might be a bloody and unpleasant one.

"Suzaku!"

Jerking towards the sound of her voice from his own musings, he turned to see CC clearing away rubble desperately—across the street from where he was. She struggled with a particularly large rock, pulling at it fruitlessly before lifting away the smaller debris around it with fervour.

"CC, what's wrong?" he called out, unmoving.

"There's—" she strained, pulling at the larger rock again, "There's someone here!"

Suzaku's eyebrows lifted and he slowly made his way over to her where she was struggling. Placing a hand on her shoulder, CC stopped and stepped back—a worried expression on her face.

"He looks hurt, Suzaku."

Pale skin was highlighted from the sunlight straining through a window into the damaged building. He had been caught up in the wreckage when the building recently collapsed by the looks of it. Most of his body was buried in rubble and only a portion of his torso was showing. A few rocks pitched a tent around his head to prevent his skull from getting immediately crushed it seemed. Lucky.

Dried blood caked the rocks around him almost endlessly.

"He's probably dead, CC," he said mournfully. "Leave it be."

"Suzaku!" CC cried as he started to continue for home. "He could be alive! You can't just leave him!"

Turning on his heel, he gave her a stern look. "CC, leave it be. He's just a—"

"Just a what?" she said sharply, golden eyes glowing fiercely. "A Britannian? Is that what you were going to say? I'm Britannian!" she declared loudly, turning back to the rubble, shifting a large rock with renewed vigour.

"CC…" Suzaku replied, feeling guilty.

A flicker of hatred remained in Suzaku from his piloting days—a flicker that occasionally flared up every now and then when he remembered how horribly his people were treated—how he had to grow up seeing smug Britannian politicians force their way around. Now that the tables were turned, however, he felt sick with himself. Despite that, more than once he had let this ugly reminder of his past show to CC.

"Let there be salvation through faith," CC said quietly, shifting her weight for better leverage around a piece of metal.

Sighing, Suzaku walked back and helped clear away the rubble. Kneeling down, Suzaku placed two fingers at the man's pulse and found that it was beating—weakly, but beating all the same. Finally jerking from the realization that he might be saved after all, Suzaku kicked into high gear and cleared away the remaining debris covering him.

He was slim, pale, and looked about ready to die. His clothes were covered in blood, but—upon Suzaku's further inspection—it looked like most of it wasn't his. Lifting him gently out of the hole, Suzaku saw the man wince sharply in pain from being freed from his stone cage. Bruises covered his skin and his hair was matted with blood where dried red trails streaked down his face.

CC knelt down next to him worriedly. "We have to help him."

"We should take him to a hospital," Suzaku agreed. "There's—"

"They won't take Britannians," CC interjected.

"But they're doctors, they shouldn't dis—"

"But they do."

Suzaku sighed. CC was right. Of course she was right. He remembered when he found her and needed medical help for her. So did CC.

CC traced her fingers over the man's lithe frame delicately, stopping at his wrist where a silver bracelet was. It was an ordinary chain except for the large plate upon it. Lifting his wrist delicately, she read the name aloud:

"Lelouch, V.B."

ooo

Another swat to his head was eagerly administered. Lelouch growled and looked up at the chastising face of his sister, Euphemia.

"Lelouch, you have to pay attention or else—"

"Or else what?" he cut off, taking another sip of tea and sitting back in his chair. "Why do I have to learn about politics? I'm a prince, and it's not like I'm going to succeed the throne anyway. Schneizel is the one raised and groomed for that role."

Euphemia gave an irritated sigh. "But it's important for us to know what goes on in our country too. What if Britannia needs you one day?"

Lelouch sighed, getting to his feet and stretching. It was a long day and he had no desire for Euphemia's tutoring in a subject he hardly cared anything about. It was his failing grades from his private instructor that urged this on—and Euphemia didn't seem to mind spending time with her favourite sibling.

"Britannia will never need me, Euphie. I'm the last in line for the throne. I will never be Emperor. Schneizel is kind, wise, and knowledgeable, he'll take care of Britannia far better than—"

"Lelouch," she admonished. "Don't say that about yourself. You're bright and full of promise with a lot going for you."

"All I have going for me is lesser breeding, Euphie. I love Mother dearly, but I have no one else but her to blame for that."

Sighing, giving up the losing battle, Euphemia rose from her seat, straightening her dress out carefully. Lelouch held his arm out to her like a gentlemen and she took it. They continued to bicker, about Lelouch's dislike of politics, all the way to the gardens, where they often had late dinners together after Lelouch's tutoring sessions.

"Lelouch, if you could give this world something—anything at all, what would it be? As for me, I would give it ideal happiness."

Humming, Lelouch took a sip of his tea. " 'Ideal happiness,' huh? Ideals don't exist in the real world, Euphie. You should get your head out of the clouds."

Euphemia huffed. "You are so sour, Lelouch, I wonder why you're my favourite."

Lelouch laughed, taking her hand up to his lips and kissing it. "Because I'm charming." She giggled at his display of chivalry. "Alright, my Lady, I'll answer your silly question then. I would give this world autonomy if I could. I would give everyone a solid sense of what's right and wrong so only good choices that don't harm anyone are made by people."

Giggling, Euphemia leaned over the table and reached out to brush his bangs away, cupping his face gently. "And you say MY head is in the clouds."

Lelouch sighed. "Well, you were the one who asked. Autonomy would give the world your wish as well. Don't you think?"

"You're right," she agreed. "It would. Then," she twinned her hand with his, "Let's give them your autonomy together, shall we? A deal?" She raised their joined hands.

Laughing, Lelouch shook his head, taking a sip of tea with his free hand. Euphemia scowled at being made to wait. Lelouch raised her hand to his lips and he kissed her hand again. "A promise."

A decadent smile spread over her face. "For that you will need to learn your politics, however, oh Rebellious Prince."

Shoulders shaking in laughter, Lelouch shrugged. "I suppose so, my fair lady."

ooo

2010 a.t.b. of the Holy Britannian calendar.

Britannia was enjoying wealth and prosperity at the expense of those under her harsh regime. Through almost limitless power and resources, she brought many nations under her heel, but her grace and generosity were as overwhelming as her power. Nations under her rule were—

—treated well.

And good behaviour was well-rewarded. It came by this system that countries like France and Germany, well-known supporters of Britannia came to be known as Dogs of the Empire.

Japan was the last stronghold of freedom in the world, but eventually, even the great eastern nation—

—she shall be reborn from the ashes of her—

—fell to the military strength of Britannia. For many years the enjoyed tough love and harsh reprimand from their Britannian overlords. The prideful nation was too patriotic to kneel down and lick the shoe of those that conquered them. Many were brought to the Britannian capital, Pendragon, to work. To be sla—

—let my words be my faith, my actions your salvation—

The Japanese, who had been enslaved by their Britannian overlords, rose up and overthrew their Britannian subjugators in the event known as The Bloody Rebellion. They stormed the Imperial Palace and committed regicide on the Emperor, Charles di Britannia, slaughtering the entirety of the royal Britannian family.

Now, Japan enjoys a seat of power through the discord of the removal of Britannian authority.

Seven years later, Zero, a hero to the disgraced Britannians rose up. Gathering to him the remaining loyalists to Britannia, he ushered in a stage of revolution and revolt where Britannia was once again in a place to seize control. The Black Rebellion ended with his suicide and Britannia was once again at the mercy of their Japanese usurpers.

Comments:

This story was inspired by various literary works such as John Milton's Paradise Lost and Dante's Inferno. I'm not, by any means, even adept at either texts and simply read them for pleasure. So if your interpretations of the various literature I mention or draw ideas from differ from mine, I'll keep it in mind while I write. Other than that, I can't really promise anything.

This story is a joy for me to write, so I hope you enjoy reading what I've written.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.