Code Geass: Demon's Wrath
Key:
" " - Regular Speech
' ' - Unheard Thoughts
" " - Radio Communication
" " - Amplified Speech / External Speakers / Public Address System (PA System)
Disclaimer - Code Geass is owned by Sunrise Inc.
Chapter II: Son of the Flash
When Cornelia had first laid her eyes upon her brother's form as she entered the G1's medical wing, it would be said that she felt an equally strong mix of both relief and apprehension, conflicting emotions plaguing her mind.
It had been but a mere two hours since the official end of the Lake Kawaguchi Crisis, as so aptly named by the Britannian media, whom had virtually pounced upon the story as it it were meat for a starving animal, unable to resist their urge for information. While in had proven impossible to simply keep the affair under raps, considering the very nature of the events, most notably Lelouch's rage induced rescue, scenes of extreme violence having been put on the air for all too see, both her and the military censors had, however, been successful in protecting the identity of the purple Knightmare's pilot, Lelouch vi Britannia.
While her brother' identity would undoubtedly be brought to light at one point or another in the near future, his current state would have only resulted in the dumbing down of his achievements during the night. The reason behind this was, for simplicities sake, that he was in absolutely no state of making any sort of appearance any time soon.
He looked terrible. His skin was ghostly white, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that had yet to leave his body after his brutal physical trial at the Ganymede's control, an effort that had thoroughly exhausted him due to his unfit physique. It was, both to her and Guilford's belief, that it had only been his sheer willpower to ensure Nunnally safety which had allowed him to carry on as long as he had. For the time being, the boy had been placed into a medically induced coma, much to his sisters' chagrin, the doctor's insisting that by lowering his metabolic functions that he would have an overall better chance of recovery. What made the matter worse was the fact that his only blood sibling, Nunnally, was in a similar state, although still awake, lying on a nearby medical bed and carefully eyeing her brother's still form.
Although Guilford had managed to quickly apprehend his unconscious state, wit the help of the medical staff her had brought along with him, the young prince's case seemed all but hopeless, his head would having cause him to suffer an unfortunately lethal level of blood loss. Not only this, but the G1's rather limited emergency blood supplies had yet to be restocked, denying the possibility of any rapid transfusion. Desperate to save Lelouch's life, Cornelia had offered her own blood as a substitute but was faced with the harsh reality that their two blood types were incompatible, herself possession an O - type while Lelouch himself was registered to have the extremely rare AB -type.
It was only by some stroke of luck that Nunnally had stayed close by so as to make sure her brother was ok, having carefully concealed herself as best she could under the circumstances. When she came to understand the situation, she had made her presence noticed to the room's occupants, declaring that she herself would be willing to donate.
However, both out of her unwillingness to carry out such actions on Nunnally's frail form and fear of an undoubtedly future Lelouch's ire, Cornelia had initially refused the offer, claiming it would have been too dangerous. To her dismay, the younger half - sibling quickly shot down her elder's argument, claiming that she was the only one with the necessary blood - type nearby and that she would do anything to save Lelouch's life, especially after having gone through literal hell in order to insure her safety. It was the least she could do.
And so, without further complaint, Nunnally had gone through with the procedure, the medical staff carrying out their actions under the watchful and worried gaze of the third princess, finally gathering the necessary life - force to properly stabilize the unconscious figure's condition.
"Princess Cornelia," Her Knight Guilford intoned, weariness in his speech, "I think it would be best if you finally enjoyed some rest. You've done all that you could for the moment, they are in good hands. Would you like me to escort you back to your quarters?"
Reflecting upon his calm words, the princess answered, "Yes. I believe your right. It would be best if I should obtain some well - deserved shut eye. No doubt Euphemia is worried about Lelouch's fate as well."
And with those parting words, the Witch of Britannia made her way down the G1's corridors and into her room, flopping beside Euphemia's sleeping form in a protective embrace, and allowed her fatigue to claim its due rewards.
In the murky darkness of the Imperial Palace's court room, Charles zi Britannia's tall and broad form was sitting upon his throne, eye's closely focused upon the most recent of Britannian news on the screen in front of him. It was, without a doubt, his beloved Marianne's Ganymede that had both cleaved and slaughtered its way through Eleven terrorists in some form of hostage situation, leaving no room for mercy nor survivors.
An ever so slight tug could be seen at the corner of his lips, forming the very faintest of smirks as the scene played itself over and over upon the network's background.
"My oh my." A small, pink haired girl commented, her high pitched voice echoing the chamber's vast and empty space. "It appears that this son of ours had, in fact, inherited something other than your intelligence Charles." Her use of tone expressing no small amount of pride and amusement."
The young girl, also known as Anya Alstreim, currently the Knight of Six, was currently under the control of the 'late' Empress Marianne, faint red rings around her pink shaded irises acting as the tale - tale sing of her Geass' hold. She was sitting in her husbands lap, his super legs acting as a sort of cushion for her small bottom.
"Yes," Her husband gruffly acknowledge, positive consent detectable in his statement, "it seems that he has finally come to embrace your skill and talent as a pilot Marianne. I was honestly beginning to think that the only thing he acquired from you was his hair color and spindly form. There's no denying his rather spindly frame, I'm afraid." His comments held no criticism, surprisingly, instead laying out the facts that made themselves presentable to him.
"Do you believe this could interfere with our plans for Ragnarök dear? Was this sort of thing supposed to happen?" Marianne inquired, wanting to understand her husband's intentions following the unforeseen occurrence.
Remaining silent for several moments, the Emperor finally voiced his answer back towards his wife, stating how, "While this was not foreseen, I do not see it causing us any potential troubles in the near future, though we should er on the side of caution and observe him from afar in order to insure he does not pose as a threat. Considering it all, I do believe it may be time to bring the boy and his sister back into the fold, wouldn't you agree?"
Marianne knew that she was privy to the majority of her husbands schemes, though she could also realize when his questions were more rhetorical that genuinely seeking her opinion. With a rather larger sigh, the disembodied woman simply replied, "I won't go against your plans Charles, thought I can't say I'm completely comfortable with both Lelouch and Nunnally finding their way back into the den of vipers that is Pendragon. At least they were safe while living incognito in Japan. After all, it was the primary reason for sending them their in the first place, as you well know. Just at least try to cover for them a little, even if its only temporary. Lulu is rather cunning, much - like you, so he'll be able to provide for himself and Nuna once they settle in."
"So its settled then." The Emperor's tone of inflection leaving no further room for discussion, signaling the conversations end.
Picking up what appeared to be an ordinary mobile phone at his side, Charles called upon his most trusted Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, and spoke a single phrase, "It's time." he said. A rapid, "Yes, your Majesty." sounded upon the other end of the line, at which point he unceremoniously hung up, rose from his position, and made way towards his personal quarters, tired of the days events, the pinkish girl making her way towards the other end of the palace as well, not bothering to look back. They needed sleep because, after all, they were, in the end, only human. For now.
When Cécile Croomy awoke the morning following the Kawaguchi Hostage Crisis, she had half - expected to find Lloyd prancing about his beloved Lancelot, looking for ways to either increase its already rather spectacular performance or just conjuring up new weapons he could possibly design for the experimental frame to wield. What she had not expected, however, was the half - crazed grin he gave her as she approached his personal work terminal, bags under his eyes and stray styrofoam cups littering the floor, stained by what she could only imagined had once been coffee.
"Ah, Cécile!" He half- shouted, his voice mirroring the pitch of a girl at least ten years his junior, most likely due to the presumably high amounts of caffeine undoubtedly coursing through his system, "Please, take a seat, you must see the marvelous data I gathered from last night's events!" He told her, excitement apparent and made all the more pronounced by the mad glint in his eyes and toothy smile, so broad it could be dubbed unnatural in appearance.
Confused about her boss' statement, the still slightly tired assistant asked him in a soft tone, "What do you mean Lloyd? The Lancelot never even left the A.S.E.E.C. trailer's hangar, with Suzaku not budging from the cockpit during the entire hostage situation's passing. What data could you possibly be talking about?"
Pleased at the blue haired woman's apparent ignorance, the lab coat clad scientist simply flashed her a sheepish smile, before moving onto the matter at hand, "Why, none other than that from the Ganymede my dear! Did you not see the way it moved while we were watching on our screens? Absolutely marvelous I tell you! There was so much record and analyze based on the video footage alone!" the scientist's voice rising in volume as his explanation dragged on, the matter having quite clearly peaked his interest and brought fourth a new level of enthusiasm from the seemingly endless recesses of his mind. It was no surprise to either himself or his coworkers that he was often labeled as a sociopath, his demeanor clearly matching that associated with the term, a description he not only failed to mind, but even promoted from time to time. Lloyd Ashland was, after all, a very particular kind of individual.
Taking note of the award silence that had befallen the duo, the eccentric genius continued on with his explanation, "Marianne's son is truly an exceptional devices. The ways in which he was able to make the third generation frame move is beyond that of my wildest dreams. Here, look over last night's calculations. If I'm correct, which I am almost assuredly so, I'd say he's floating anywhere around 98 to 100% efficiency. Just imagine what data he could produce with my Lancelot, or any other of our frames for that manner! He could become a virtual gold mine of information, our research data would go through the roof!"
Having finally understood the underlying cause of his attitude, Cécile proceeded to insert herself into the increasingly one - sided conversation, telling him how, "Lloyd, while I'm very impressed with what you've discovered as of now, I have to warn you that the Ganymede's pilot was none other than Prince Lelouch vi Britannia, our so called 'lost' prince. In addition, I doubt that he's in any condition to pilot your latest toys, and even if he was it would be unlikely her highness Cornelia would allow it following recent events."
Despite the both sound and reasonable argument presented by his assistant, the lavender haired scientist merely brushed the potential setbacks off, positive they would not stand in his way. "Now Cécile, your a smart young woman, I admit it, so you of all people must realize the boy will be back on his feet soon enough, so that shouldn't be a problem. As for his physical endurance, nothing like a few laps around the nearby military compounds with our dear Suzaku to whip him into shape. And, by the way, I doubt Princess Cornelia could force him down from piloting Knightmares again, he's simply too good to allow it, plus I doubt his pride would make him so easy to put down, so however you look at things, no worries!"
Considering Lloyd's joyful and supremely confident tone, Cécile simply acknowledged his points and decided to end the conversation, it being to early in the morning to try and attempt to install some sense into the man, preferring to put it off until a later time. For now, at least, she headed down the nearby flight of stairs towards the trailer's mess hall, desperately in search for a decent cup of coffee and regular human interaction.
'It's just another day at work…' She thought.
Schneizel el Britannia, 2nd Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire and 2nd in line for the Imperial Throne had, so far, experienced a generally typical day. As prime minister of Britannia, he spent the majority of his days flying from one country or another, most recently the European Union and former Middle Eastern Federation, conducting various trade agreements and peace talks in an attempt to diffuse the rather tense diplomatic situation. Britannia may be the most powerful nation of Earth on paper, however reality is often a different subject altogether. Cornelia's recent establishment of Area 18, coupled with ongoing turmoils in her governance of Area 11, had severely outstretched the Empire's frontline, weakening its borders. Peace was, for now, a valuable necessity, allowing for a breather period in which the military could rekindle its forces and solidify its newly conquered positions. He was well aware of the inevitable conflict that was to come in the face down between the European alliance and the Empire, but that time was to come at a later date, for now he would arrange the pieces in the best possible manner so that they may prove useful in the future.
He'd currently been enjoying a brief session of respite in his private quarters onboard Avalon's, a local Paris newspaper in hand and ever - loyal Kanon massaging his tense shoulder muscle's, when a shrill tone sounded within his room. Observing the screen which popped out from a hidden compartment within the rightmost side of the room, it was boldly stated that the individual hailing him was none other than his sister Cornelia. Grabbing nearby remote after having waved his aide off for the sake of proper decorum, the prince pressed a button upon the remote's frame, revealing Area 11's newest Vicerine, and uncharacteristic expression of worry etched across her face, something contrasting to her usually more serious expression.
"Hello Cornelia," He stated in a gentle manner, a hint of gaiety in his tone, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" he asked.
A slight blush made itself present upon the warrior princess' face following the simple greeting, Schneizel's words always catching the violet haired pilot off guard.
'She really makes it too easy to get to her.' He thought, carefully observing her reaction.
"Ah, Schneizel, we seem to have had a particular development here in Area 11, and I was hoping if I could head your council." She stated, an edge of uncertainty weaving its way in her words.
'She doesn't trust me most likely, although I cannot truly blame her for such notions thought. I might as well find out what seems to be bothering her.'
Schooling her face into a more neutral fashion, Cornelia once again addressed the Prime Minister. "I assume you've seen the latest news on the hostage crisis that occurred yesterday night?" She asked, more in a rhetorical fashion than anything else. Of course the man would have heard, he made it his business to know everything going on around him.
"Yes, in fact, I did." Came his reply, as if it were but common knowledge. In a sense it was really, though that was beside the point, wondering what she was building up to. Then, as an afterthought, he commented, "My sincere congratulations on that Knightmare's pilot, I'm sure he was well rewarded for his actions. Guilford had informed me of Euphemia's unfortunate involvement in the incident."
It was at this point that Schnitzel discovered a newfound interest in the conversation, Cornelia's expression reverting back to that of anxiety and uncertainty from before, proving he had hit the nail on something of interest.
'What could it be.' He thought.
"Yes," Came the beginnings of his sister's reply, "its about that pilot, actually." He tone was soft, almost…remorseful? Now this was drawing the prince's interest even further.
"Cornelia," He began rather soothingly, "what is it you've found?", he asked.
A few tense moments of silence hung in the air, waiting for Cornelia to formulate a reply.
"Schneizel…" She began, hesitation clearly evident in the way she approached the subject, "The pilot was Lelouch…"
Upon the return of his granddaughter, Ruben Ashford felt as if an enormous weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders, an ironic feeling considering how he had endured nothing close to what she and her fellow student's had the night before. Above his sense of relief however, something shared between him and the kunoichi that was Sayoko, whom had remained in an effort to comfort the ailing noble, was a deeper emotion of gratitude. True, he could not have foreseen what might have occurred should Cornelia have carried out whatever plans she may have devised, yet it was Lelouch's timely, as well as brutal, intervention that had ultimately brought his loved one back. Had he not, he had a very bad feeling that the Princess may have simply bombed the resort into oblivion, if nothing more than to make an example of the so called 'terrorists' that had seized the building.
What unnerved the man, however, was Lelouch's lack of reappearance along with his Friends, as well as the convenient absence of a certain blind cripple. Their absence left an awful senses of apprehension within him, fearing for the worst. Marianne may have been a political ally, but her years of interaction wit the Ashford family head had caused them to become close friends, a relationship that soon found itself extend to her children. He had, along the years of mutual exile, come to see the former prince and princess as a sort or surrogate grandchildren, a feeling returned by both, if slightly less obvious for the stone faced Lelouch. He chalked it up to the boy's cautious nature thought, as Nunnally more than made up for her brother's lack.
Therefore, upon Millicent's safe return and a good night's rest, Ruben's first act was to summon the girl to his office, hoping to gain a deeper insight on the events of that night and, more importantly, the missing royals' locations.
It wasn't long before Milly strolled into his office, face somewhat downtrodden as if she had prepared for the inevitable interrogation, an action she had most likely predicted upon her waking in the morning.
"I assume you know why your here Milly, so I'll make this a quick as we can." The aged Ashford Academy principle stood from his seat and embraced his granddaughter, a comforting gesture he knew both of them had been in dire need since her return. The moment of tenderness passed, he sat back down, arms resting upon his desk's plush leather chair, and continued, "Now, where are Lelouch and Nunnally?"
The buxom blond did not answer him immediately, eyes looking towards her feet and floor, a bad sign if Ruben had ever seen one. Eventually, she answered, "There both with Cornelia grandfather, their identities were discovered soon after the operation." Her voice was sad and regretful, having presumably already imagined what fate would befall the duo, no matter how protective their elder sister deemed herself to be. They would be returning to the mainland, no doubt.
Clearing his throat, he continued, "What happened out there exactly, hoe were their cover's blown?", he asked.
"Well…" Came the beginnings of a reply, "Nunnally was apparently spotted by Princess Euphemia during the takeover, having been among the hostages herself, having told me she was visiting at the time, while Lelouch…" The volume of her words gradually descended into silence, her face becoming pale.
"What happened to Lelouch?" He asked, his tone more forceful than he'd wanted to convey but his worry for the boy evident, something Milly seemed to have understood as she continued.
"Lelouch was a mess, to say the least. He was severely wounded and covered in blood when he climbed out of the Ganymede, it was frightening really. He'd only held out long enough to embrace Nuna before passing out, at which point he was recovered by some doctors and a knight, Cornelia in two. I'd spotted them while we were being evacuated from the building a moved towards the military line."
This particular piece of information worried the aged headmaster, asking, "Is he alright?"
Milly responded, "I believe he is, I saw him being escorted into the G1's infirmary before me and the Student Council member's left for Ashford, and Nunnally was nearby. She promised to call us as soon as she would get the chance, so it shouldn't be too long if the opportunity presents itself."
The flicker of hope in Milly's words caused him to flash a brief smile, positive the boy would pull out alright. Switching over to a more relaxed and jovial tone, he teased his granddaughter.
"So, how do it feel to be saved by a knight in shinning armor?" He quipped.
"Now that's a low blow, even for you old man." She responded, amused at the situation.
"Who are you calling old?" HE retorted, mock indignation etched across his features.
The conversation would drag on for the next hour, a return to normalcy, at least for the time being, taking hold of the cozy office, the Sunday morning light flooding through the windows, promising for a new day.
Kyoshiro Tohdoh sat upon his futon, lotus style, carefully thinking over yesterday's events, a bottle of sake in his hand. Colonel Kusakabe had, against both his and General Katase's orders, engaged in a hostage taking situation ,along with just over an 8th of the J.L.F.'s current forces, and miserably failed, losing both his and his mens' lives in the process, with no discernible goal having been accomplished. Worse yet, the blatant act of terrorism had largely discredited the already struggling remnants of the defunct Japanese military, resulting in a severe tongue - lashing from the Six Houses of Kyoto and a drop in volunteers, the latter being a relatively minor change considering how little volunteers they had in the first place.
However, despite these unfortunate setbacks, what the Lieutenant Colonel had been focusing on was the mysterious Knightmare that had single - handedly and systematically wiped out both Kusakabe and his men, receiving only minor damage in the process, or so he had been able to piece together through the Britannian news media and their splinter's radio signals during the crisis. It had made him wary, to say the least, as he had recognized the apparent skill with which the aged machine had been using, dodging and weaving its way though the J.L.F. forces, a feet few could admittedly accomplish as he, or she, had. The pilot's identity had never been revealed, strangely enough.
He did have a clue, however, as one of the events clips had recorded an almost inhumanely loud roar, one driving with rage and fear at the same time, the subtle undertones signaling the almost desperate nature of the devices. It was as if the pilot's very life depended upon his success, the consequences be damned. The mentioning of a her, coupled with the familiarity of the voice, granted its deeper tone and heightened maturity, bringing back memories of a raven haired exile from many years ago. An interesting thought, yet at such time mere speculation. Until the arrival of more information, it was anybody guess as to whom had conducted what had been commonly dubbed 'the heroes deed'.
No matter the case, the J.L.F., and therefor him in in turn, would have to be on guard for this new piece, his falling into enemy hands quite possibly resulting in a very legitimate threat to their continued survival in the future.
Kallen Kōzuki, more commonly know under the name of Kallen Stadtfeld, was rather annoyed at her current situation. In the aftermath of Shinjuku, she and her late brother Noato's resistance cell had convened under the temporary leadership of the man known only to them as Zero, whom had insured their survival and masterminded the escape of the wrongly accused Suzaku Kururugi. It had angered her to no end to find out the man had failed to outright kill the former Viceroy Clovis la Britannia, despite his order to liquidate the entirety of a ghetto, an emotion only furthered by his unfailing excuse of an answer, having simply told him that he'd been unable to "deliver the killing shot".
Now though, the fiery redhead had officially lost her patience, the masked figure having apparently vanished without reason, leaving both her and her group back under Ohgi's command, feeling betrayed and abandoned. It was a paltry consolation that he'd left behind a luxurious R.V. and customized uniforms, though uncoordinated as they were it was hard pressed to use such 'gifts' to their greatest extent. They didn't even have the money necessary to refill their base's fuel tank, meaning it was grounded in a shady underground portion of the ghetto, acting as a sort of secret clubhouse more than command center at this point.
What had made the recent annoyances bearable, however, to both her and her companions glee, was an official invitation to the J.L.F., the largest and most well equipped resistance force in Japan, the dream of many a resistance fighter.
Of all the posts Kallen had hoped to attain, Knightmare pilot was the one, her skills and experience with the large war machines granting her a degree of both pride and autonomy from her boring and tedious day to day life at Ashford. The adrenaline boosts, couple with the flood of stress hormones and other such bodily experience made her feel alive and worthwhile, giving her a cause to which she could strive towards.
To her dismay, however, her arrival at one of the J.L.F.'s proxy recruitment station, located in the Narita Mountains, had been met with rather hostile attitudes, the soldiers immediately pointing her out as an obvious Britannian spy, resulting in several bloodied noses and more than one or two minor fractures, most to her opponents' dismay. It was only with the arrival of one of the higher ranking officers, Tohdoh the Miracle Maker himself no less, that she was granted entry, barring certain conditions, the most troublesome of which had actually been requested by Ohgi. Simply put, she still had to go to school. Kallen Kōzuki may be fighting for Japan, but Kallen Stadtfeld still had a name to uphold. Her vanishing from the Tokyo settlement was sure to bring around an investigation, something made all the more certain by her status as the sole her of the Stadtfeld fortune, as if she'd care.
'God, I hate acting as an invalid!' She inwardly seethed. 'What's the point of going to classes I already know all the answers to! Stupid Ohgi, and Tamaki encouraged him of all people, Tamaki!'
The day of the Lake Kawaguchi Hostage Crisis, Kallen had winced at the fate her fellow Student Council members, being held at gunpoint by rogue operatives of the very group sh had just joined, her knot forming a stomach at the only fate that seemed inevitable. At some point in time, either by Japanese or Britannian hands, the hostages would die, end of story. What effected her most was the presence of Lelouch's little sister Nunnally among said hostages, the blind and crippled girl, always a smile on her face, being felt yet another misery in life. She could only imagine what they boy had to be going through at that point in time. Despite his deep seated arrogance and aloof personality, she could not deny his genuine care and love for his sister, a relationship that deeply reminder her of the one she had with the now past Naoto, much to her chagrin.
It could only be said that she had been shocked upon seeing, along with all her fellow J.L.F. members, a lone, royal purple Knightmare, old as she could imagine considering the large external batteries, make its way through both the Britannian blockade and knightmares, only to descend upon Kusakabe's forces in a rage a death and hellfire, wiping all those wearing the teal - green uniform of the Japanese resistance.
However it was not so much the Knightmare itself, but mores the originating voice of the roar blasted over its speaker's that attracted her attention, the sheer amount of bloodlust and vehemence dripping from the only spoken words from the pilot having made it on the Britannian news, all further information having been censored for the time being. It had, rather easily, reminder her of Lelouch's voice, heard only when someone made some unwanted or unwarranted move or action near his sister, a tone that promised swift and sever punishment should something of wrong. Yet the notion was quickly forgotten, chalking it up to her overreactive imagination due to the mentally stressful situation. After all, Lelouch was so physically underwhelming she doubted he could even pilot a Knightmare, let alone have the endurance to handle one, and seemed completely oblivious to them.
'Won't it be interesting when we found out who that guy is? I'll have fun with him the day we cross swords in Knightmares, now that will be an interesting experience.'
But for now such thoughts were put aside, her first official orders of the day making themselves heard.
