Chapter One
When Lelouch awakened, his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, as if he had slept a long time. He fluttered in and out of consciousness, unworried, unaware, and unthinking. Just existing.
After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, he gradually started to gain strength. Memories started to flash through his mind. Memories of his school, Ashford Academy, and all his friends who attended. Millie, Rivalz, Kallen, Nina, Shirley. Oh Shirley, he thought bitterly, how could I have done this to you? What kind of demon am I?
Then he remembered. Yes, Demon. The Demon Emperor that is what they called me. In my quest to save the world, I forced myself to play the villain's role. And Suzaku, my only friend, how much he had sacrificed for my rash actions! Why had I ever used my geass on him, to force him to continue his meaningless existence, with Euphy gone? What was the point?
Even though Lelouch knew there was no way he could've known Euphemia's, no, Suzaku's, fate, the guilt still weighed heavily upon his shoulders.
But wait, he thought, struggling to understand. Why am I not dead? I remember the pain and relief as Zero's sword plunged through my heart, I remember Nunnally's tortured cries echoing amidst the cheers as I faded into oblivion. Where could I be now, if not dead? I still do not have the strength to live, much less fight. If I am still in danger of assassination, opening my eyes, indeed, showing any signs of life would be a grave mistake.
Then Lelouch remembered that he had chosen death. He'd given his life over to the idea of death, so why was he grasping at some insignificant thread of life now? Perhaps I truly am the coward that everyone's made me out to be. Either way, the fact remains that I am, somehow, still conscious, and I'm not willing to relinquish this small luxury. I've always been selfish, after all.
So Lelouch lay, unable to move, though his instincts were telling him to escape from whatever unknown danger awaited in the conscious world.
He gently sniffed the air. It was sweet, like a field in the middle of spring. He also detected, faintly, citrus in the breeze. The cool grass he felt beneath his fingers contributed to that idea.
Eventually he managed to figure out that he was lying on his back, with his hands at his sides. He now sensed that he wore a different set of clothes, too. A pair of pants and some sort of three-quarter sleeved top. The ridiculous hat he forced himself to wear as the Britannian Emperor was no longer atop his head, and his jet black hair fluttered in a slight breeze. The song of birds echoed in the distance, as if from a nearby grove of trees. Other than that he heard no sound.
Soon after realizing that he was alone, as far as humans go, he opened his bright purple eyes. His original speculations had been correct. There was a field of wildflowers that stretched infinitely south, and about a hundred meters to the west stood an orchard of orange trees. He sat up, still alert for any unknown peril. None appeared. He reached his arms up and arched his back, in a satisfying and catlike stretch.
This task accomplished, he looked down to see what he was wearing. Brown pants and a white button down top, with the sleeves rolled halfway up. Well, he thought, whoever dressed me has simple taste.
He also noticed that he was no longer wounded. Quickly, he lifted up his shirt to look for a scar, and found none. This is getting a little creepy. I wonder if I really am dead, or if Britannian medicine is that advanced. Perhaps I am a prisoner in that spiritual world to which my father was so endeared. But this looks nothing like those ruins in the sky. I wonder…
His musings were interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him. How had they managed to sneak up on him? He was sure he'd have heard or seen an attack from any direction! Panicked, he searched for something he could use as a weapon. It was useless. He would have to try and distract whoever it was with his wit, and run for the meager cover of trees to his right. He slowly stood up, testing the strength of this legs, and turned to face his enemy.
He was surprised to see a middle aged man dressed in a bright blue tunic and khakis smiling at him. There was a wooden staff at his side, but an unconcerned smile played across his lips. He looked like he was on vacation. "Hello," he said in a cheerful voice.
"Um, hello," Lelouch answered, unsure what to think of this man's friendly approach.
"Welcome to Heaven. Well, not quite Heaven, actually. You are at one of the weigh stations, a pit stop on the way to the top, you might say." The man chuckled at his own analogy, the edges of his bright green eyes crinkling into gentle crow's feet.
"H- Heaven? But I thought there was no God! Simply a great unconsciousness!" Lelouch stammered with surprise.
"I choose to take many forms. Your father wished to believe me an unthinking mass of memories, so that was the shape I took with him. It was the only way to keep him from wandering."
With this, the strange man looked over his shoulder. Lelouch noticed for the first time a flock of sheep grazing nearby.
How did they get there? He thought, amazed by the skill of this harmless-seeming man. However, Lelouch knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving. He did not trust the man's declaration that he was God. It was too soon to know if this man was telling the truth.
"Are you a shepherd?" He asked, strangely curious.
"Yes, amongst a great many other things." The man replied.
Fine, then. I shall play your game, old man, Lelouch decided quietly. Out loud, he said "Is my father in that great herd of sheep, then?"
"One of the sheep? Oh, heavens no! These are not people, my dear Lelouch, merely beasts. Herding them is my hobby when I come down to the weigh stations to help traveling souls. It lets them understand me better. I daresay you've read the Bible, have you not? Yes, of course you have. Then you should understand, my boy! Have you no faith in me?"
Lelouch thought back to his younger years. His family had never been religious, although he had been forced to attend church on Christmas and Easter, while his mother was alive. He knew the stories well enough, but had abandoned the idea of God once his family had been massacred.
What kind of merciful God would place a pain like that upon him? Upon Nunnally? And the mere existence of geass seemed to discredit his former faith even more thoroughly.
"No! I do not have faith in you!" Lelouch cried angrily.
"If you were God, which I am certain that you are not, why would you allow me and my younger sister to suffer so? Why would you give me an unnatural power, why force me into war and rebellion? Why?"
Whenever Lelouch truly lost his cool, he tended to drop the casual language he used for common life and reverted to the aristocratic dialect that reflected his thoughts.
"This is what all men and women say when they first meet me. Why have you allowed me to suffer? The answer, my child, is that if there were no pain, no fear or envy, would happiness exist? Would laughter or smiles bless the world? If there were no wrong, how could there be right? I cannot bear the thought of my world being lifeless and my people without ambitions or desires."
The man seemed to age instantly, his regal face saddened in a deep, inconsolable sorrow at this dark thought. Lelouch could sense that the Shepherd, as he'd chosen to refer to him, wanted to say more, but refrained from doing so.
He soon brightened, however, and said, "You, Lelouch, have been given a particularly painful role to play in the world of man. But think. Did I not seek to ease your sorrows? By putting Shirley in your life, and Nunnally, and all your friends? Did they mean nothing in the face of your pain? If so, then I am deeply grieved. But you must think this over. That is why this meadow exists. If you decide that your life was not worth the sacrifice it asked of you, then you shall have another chance in the mortal world. But if you feel that you have been justified in your lifetime, I shall open the gates of heaven to you. You'll have until the end of this day to decide." The man then turned to move away with his sheep, off into another part of the field.
"Wait!" Lelouch shouted, confused and upset.
"Yes?" The Shepherd turned to face him again.
"I... um, how long will the day last?" Lelouch asked, defeated by the Shepherd's reasoning, and by his own inability to comprehend completely the events of that day. He'd never felt so inadequate before.
"This day shall last as long as it needs to," the Shepherd replied before leading his sheep out of sight. "Think carefully. You may never forgive yourself for making the wrong decision." And with this last piece of advice, he was gone.
Lelouch still did not trust that this man was truly who he claimed to be, but he also realized that playing along with this strange game might be the only way to get out of this meadow. He could, of course, explore to see how far the field of flowers actually stretched, or where the grove of orange trees came to a halt, but he had a feeling that neither could be escaped through purely physical means.
Besides, he thought with a smile, if I don't think my life over now, I'll just end up letting the details get muddled. We wouldn't want that, now would we?