Code Geass – Euphemia of the Revelation
Destiny begins
Disclaimer – Code Geass is the property of Sunrise, Bandai Entertainment and Ichiro Okouchi, so I don't own anything afflicted with Code Geass.
Warnings – Strong language, strong violence, Euphemia OOC (obviously), yuri, possible lemons in later chapters (unsure)
It was a peaceful day in the Tokyo Settlement of what had once been Japan, which Britannia had renamed Area Eleven. The citizens of the settlement went about their daily lives, completely oblivious to most of the goings on around them; not that they expected anything out of the ordinary would happen. After all, terrorist attacks were pretty much the norm these days with the Japanese, who had been renamed Elevens unhappy about their oppression after Britannia had conquered their once proud nation seven years previously. The Britannians had then built their settlements and drove the Japanese out and into the ruins of their own cities, which had been declared ghettos. Any part of a ruined city that Britannia was not interested in pretty much became a ghetto and they housed multiple terrorist groups, though they had major disagreements with one another; they were all united in one overall goal; defeat Britannia and reclaim what had been stolen from them. Terrorist attacks could happen at any time and anywhere. However, this did not dissuade the people from their everyday routine. Over the years, they had learned to live with it and if they happened to get caught up in an attack; that was just their bad luck.
However, a VTOL Britannian Police Aircraft happened to be following a truck on a road on the outskirts of the settlement. The truck had been hijacked by a terrorist group and was transporting something of great importance to the area's Viceroy, something so important that the military had saw fit to retrieve before the terrorists could use it for their own ends.
"This is Alpha Three," the pilot of the police aircraft said as he observed the truck moving along the road with high-rise buildings to the right and a lake to the left as the road was built at the rim, "Target is travelling from Delta Twelve toward Delta Fourteen at a speed of 80km/h."
"C.C.P. to all mobile units," a voice could be heard over the radio, "Declaring a Code Three from Floor Five to Floor Two; all units take 2-8-8. I want the target in tact."
The police aircraft just continued to follow the truck, tracking its progress.
Meanwhile in one of the many buildings within the settlement, a chess match was taking place between Ruben K. Ashford and a rich, overly dressed and overly confident nobleman. In the room was a TV at the far wall to the right of the door showing a news bulletin about a terrorist attack in Osaka.
"Here's video footage of yesterday's terrorist bombings in Osaka," the newswoman said as a picture of three buildings with the far right one billowing out smoke behind her to her left, "The secretary reported fifty-nine casualties in this incident; eight Britannians and fifty-one others."
Just then a timer that was sitting on the table next to the chessboard with its back to the TV started to beep just as one of the nobleman's aides, the one behind Ruben turned the TV off with a remote control.
"You're out of time," the aide said to the already nervous old man, "From here on, you'll make your moves every twenty seconds."
Ruben just stared at the nobleman who seemed more concerned about filing his nails that concentrating on the game. It made Ruben nervous and why shouldn't he be, he asked himself. The situation looked hopeless. Sure he had eleven pieces left on the board and his opponent only had ten, but from the positions of his pieces on the board, he had to say the nobleman had the advantage. In fact, all this man did was file his nails throughout the entire game, not once taking him seriously and given the man's status, Ruben had become nervous rather easily. They say that chess was a nobleman's game and the nobles were all professionals and from the looks of it, it seemed that that notion was a reality.
Ruben had to admit that despite his family's former noble status, he was not much of a chess player. The nobility always seemed to gamble, playing for stakes and unfortunately for Ruben, this was one bet he could not afford to lose. He may no longer be considered nobility, but this noble had been kind enough to offer him over half his wealth, so long as Ruben staked the ownership of Ashford Academy. Knowing that he'd lose the academy if he lost, Ruben's nervousness only increased. This man clearly had him beat. His confidence right from the start had said as much.
"Heh, very well, I'm game," the nobleman said in response to his aide's statement as he continued to file his nails, not caring much for the game as he saw it as a mere formality.
Ruben gulped as his hands slowly moved towards the board, shaking as he had not decided which piece he wanted to move; not that it mattered, this man was clearly the winner already and he knew it.
However, just then the doors behind him opened, causing him to turn and look round as two figures entered the room and Ruben's expression changed to one of glee as he started laughing in relief.
"Did your substitute arrive?" the nobleman asked in an uncaring tone, convinced that it did not matter who the replacement was as he was sure he had already won
"Oh, thank heaven, I'm saved," Ruben said as he got up and slowly ran over to his saviours, ignoring the nobleman's question; not that the nobleman cared, "Are things going well at school?"
"Things are going well," the figure the right replied in a female voice as she stepped into the light, revealing herself as a girl with long light pink hair and deep light blue eyes and wearing a girl's school uniform of Ashford Academy.
"What have we here; a schoolgirl?" the nobleman said in an unimpressed tone as he suppressed the urge to burst out in laughter, "Are you so desperate old man that you hired this supermodel wannabe to fill-in for you?"
"Well, look at this; a nobleman," the girl replied in an uncaring tone; appearing not to be affected by the insult as the boy beside her came into the light with short blue hair and grey eyes wearing a boy's school uniform of Ashford Academy.
"I envy you kids today, you have so much time on your hands," the nobleman countered, not caring about the girl's dismissive tone as he held one of his chess pieces in his fingers and tapped it down on the table, "Time for regrets. What's your name girl?"
"Euphemia Lamperouge," the girl replied before studying the board to see what Ruben had left her to work with.
In all honesty, at first glance it seemed rather hopeless for her, but Euphemia knew a way how to turn it around and apparently, this overconfident oaf of a man had not caught on.
Unfortunately her friend did not think so.
"Wow, you can't possibly win this one, it's impossible right?" he said, studying the chessboard and completely missing what Euphemia had seen
"Rivalz, when would we have to leave in order to make our next class?" Euphemia asked, ignoring Rivalz's comment as she stared down the nobleman.
"Eh, twenty minutes if we bust our humps," Rivalz replied after thinking it over for a few seconds.
Euphemia nodded with a smirk.
"Then be sure to drive safely on the way back," she replied simply as the nobleman impatiently tapped his chess piece on the table, indicating that he wanted to get things over with, "Just give me five, six minutes tops with this guy and we'll be on our way."
She then turned her attention to Ruben, who was still in the room, standing to her left slightly behind her.
"And by the way, about yesterday…" she went on.
"Understood ma'am, we'll discuss it later," Ruben replied, interrupting her.
"Good," Euphemia stated, nodding in content before turning her attention back to the nobleman.
"Five to six minutes, but you only have twenty seconds per move," the nobleman stated, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice as the timer beeped again.
"Enough time," Euphemia said as she reached for her king piece and played it.
"Hmm, you start with the king?" the nobleman asked in an amused tone before bursting into maniacal laughter.
Euphemia only responded with a deceptively kind and sweetly innocent smile… the sort of smile that seemed to say "I'm just an innocent girl, I can do no wrong" as she studied her opponent.
The nobleman had short, nicely-combed brown hair a small thin moustache the small colour as his hair and light blue eyes. He wore a red coat with golden outlining that decorated the front and black cuffs, a black jacket underneath that was buttoned up with white buttons, a white shirt and a white scarf wrapped round his neck with part of it running down his front and underneath his jacket like a tie. There was also a circular golden pin on the scarf at the front and Euphemia noticed the many rings that adorned his fingers on both hands. All in all, it was as if he was immaculately clean and his clothes were spotless.
Predictable as ever, she told herself. Like many of the opponents she had faced in the past, this man was another overconfident noble that liked to show off his wealth and use it to boast about how he was better than everyone else. Nobles seemed to find it effective in their gambling as showing off their status and boasting about it seemed to scare their opponents into either giving up or making mistakes they could have easily avoided and giving the noble the victory, at least that's how Euphemia saw it.
However, she could see right through this man's overly-done façade. Like she said, she could beat this man in five to six minutes, playing seriously and she knew just how to do it with the nobleman not knowing that he was beaten until she had said the word, "checkmate".
"Poor fool won't know what hit him," she thought with a mental laugh.
Meanwhile at Ashford Academy, Shirley Fenette, Milly Ashford and Nina Einstein were having lunch on the lawn of the inner courtyard, sitting on circular stones that were carved into perfect circles.
"Where's Euphemia?" Milly asked curiously.
"I think she must have gone somewhere with Rivalz," Shirley replied with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"What?" Milly replied with an uncaring shrug, "Maybe its poker this time."
"They seem to forget that they're on the student council," Shirley replied with the annoyance still evident in her voice as she held her fork in front of her pointing in an upwards diagonal angle with a small tomato skewered into it, "They're off gambling for money. Euphie maybe smart, but she wastes her brain on stupid things. If only she'd apply herself in school, she'd get high grades."
"Oh, I wish my darling Euphie would be a serious young woman," Milly said with a teasing laugh, "How adorable is that?"
Shirley, who had just placed the tomato in her mouth suddenly found herself swallowing it down the wrong way, causing her to cough and stand up and the contents of her lunchbox fell onto the grass.
"Just what are you implying Madam President?" she asked in an outraged tone after recovering from swallowing the tomato down the wrong way, staring at the student council president with a look of disgust and not caring for the fate of her lunch
She honestly could not believe what Milly had just implied. The very thought of it sounded wrong and disgusting. Her face had became a bright shade of red; red with anger and embarrassment.
"Oh calm down," Milly laughed, waving it off, "I wasn't serious. I was just teasing you."
Shirley seemed to calm down somewhat after that, though some anger was still evident in her eyes. However, Milly's face then became serious.
"However, with the way you obsess over Euphemia, people just may get the wrong idea," she went on, "You don't want people think you're weird now, do you?"
"I have to agree with Milly," Nina said in her usual shy and quiet voice, "You do obsess over her a lot."
"Please," Shirley scoffed in an uncaring tone, waving it off, "If I cared what everyone thought about me, I'd have started complaining a long time ago."
"Whatever," Milly sighed in a dismissive tone, waving it off.
Meanwhile, the occupants of the truck that had been driving into the settlement had just noticed that they were being followed by the police aircraft.
"Perfect, after we finally steal this damn thing," the male driver growled with gritted teeth, "It's all because Tamaki couldn't stick to Naoto's plan and now we've got a problem."
The female passenger remained silent with her cap over her eyes as the patrol helicopter continued to track their progress.
Meanwhile, back inside the building where Euphemia had substituted for Ruben, the nobleman's nail file fell to the floor as Euphemia had made her final move and he nobleman realised that he had been beaten.
"Checkmate," Euphemia said as a smile crept onto her face as she witnessed the nobleman's look of disbelief; the look of someone who believed that their whole world had crumbled to dust.
However, since this nobleman was foolish enough to stake over half his financial wealth, Euphemia could not say she blamed him. She had just earned enough money to support herself and Nunnally for a full three months, considering the fact that they liked to buy a lot of things on the side.
"Okay, now pay up Mr Spacer, I believe I won," she said with a kind and sweet smile and her tone deceptively polite.
She loved defeating those of the nobility who were arrogant snobs. Every time they lost, from the looks on their faces, it was like their worlds had caved in around them and to Euphemia, she was giving them a hard slap in the face, knocking them off their high horses and causing them to come crashing back down to reality, just like her father had done to her. Each new opponent she devastated, she pictured her father with the same expression on his face. Her father had given her a hard slap of reality when he had her exiled along with Nunnally. To her, each victory was a victory against the Empire… each victory was a victory against her tyrannical father whom she swore to bring down.
The nearest aide to the nobleman, Mr Spacer's left wrote out a cheque and handed it to Euphemia, seeing as his superior was frozen in shock, still unable to comprehend how he had been beaten. He could have checkmated Euphemia if he had lasted just three more turns. However, he noticed that Euphemia's remaining pawns had practically boxed his king in. He had had multiple opportunities to take them out of play, but he did not see it as being worthwhile and now he had paid the price.
"A word of advice Mr Spacer, don't underestimate the value of pawns," Euphemia said as she turned to leave along with Rivalz, "However, if it's any consolation, I learned that strategy from my late half-brother. In fact, I learned to play chess from him and if you keep playing with that smug attitude, you're gonna end up bankrupt."
At hearing this statement, Mr Spacer's brain shut itself off and he dropped to the floor with a thud just as Euphemia and Rivalz walked out the door.
"Um, did he just faint?" one of his aides asked in a confused tone, causing the others to look at him as if he was out of his mind since the answer was obvious.
"I love playing against the nobility," Rivalz said as he and Euphemia stood in the elevator on the way down to the ground floor, "When they lose, they always pay out of pride; by the way, five minutes and two seconds in a new record."
In truth, he could not believe that Euphemia had managed to pull a rabbit out of the hat so to speak. Right up until the very end, it seemed that Mr Spacer had the advantage, but then Euphemia had moved her last pawn into place and that was that. He had been concentrating on the positions of Euphemia's most valuable pieces and not on the positions of his own and he overlooked the pawns as well. He had to admit that Euphemia was amazing.
"He also didn't have much time to move either," Euphemia replied as the elevator reached the ground floor and they both started walking across the lobby to the exit, "And as opponents go, the nobles are tepid. They're just over-privileged parasites, that's all."
"Over-privileged parasites that feel that they own the world and can't stomach the idea of being outdone and shown up for the overrated idiots they really are by commoners," she added in her thoughts with a grimace as she remembered how infuriated the Imperial Consorts were when Lady Marianne proved her worth as a noblewoman despite her commoner status and making many of the others seem like amateurs.
Her own mother was among them, in fact her mother had been the worst of them and it was only made worse by the fact that her eldest daughter, Cornelia idolised Lady Marianne and took up Knightmare piloting because of her. To Rochelle li Britannia, a commoner possessing abilities that made the nobility look weak was a mistake of nature. She had regarded Lady Marianne as if her very existence was a crime against humanity, but that was only because she could not stand the fact that Lady Marianne was better than her and she only allowed her and Cornelia to socialise with Marianne's children because the Emperor had forced her to.
"Well then, why don't you challenge one of the Elevens," Rivalz asked, bringing her out of her thoughts as he ran in front of her and turned to face her while walking backed with his hands clasped behind his head as the automatic doors behind him opened, "They're nothing like us Britannians."
"Not Elevens Rivalz, they're Japanese!" Euphemia snapped with uncharacteristic fury in her voice, causing Rivalz to jump in astonishment.
However, before he could reply, he overheard mumbles from behind him.
"Huh?" he said as he turned around and both he and Euphemia looked up to see a huge-screen TV on the side of the building on the opposite side of the street showing footage from the previous day's terrorist attacks in Osaka.
"Just what are they trying to prove by killing innocent people?" they heard a man ask.
"Those Elevens terrify me," a woman stated.
A beeping noise was heard before the image on the TV screen changed to one showing the flag of Britannia.
"We apologise for any delay," a feminine electronic voice boomed, seemingly from the TV screen, "Now, his Royal Highness Prince Clovis, Third Prince of Britannia will address the nation."
The image on the TV changed again to a man with flamboyantly dirty blonde hair and light greenish blue eyes wearing gloves that ran up the length of his arms, a blue jacket with golden outlining and crescent shapes wherever it happened to be buttons; two crescents back-to-back and facing upwards and downwards. He also adorned a white cape with epaulets that spanned his shoulders and a small rope running over a cloth that he had hanging out the top of his coat like a tie. Behind him was grey wall with red curtains visible at either side of the screen and in the middle was a Britannian flag outlined with thin orange and thick yellow and the bottom with shaped like an arrow pointing downwards with the orange becoming thick and highlighted by the thick yellow outline.
"To all my Imperial subjects," the man, who was obviously Prince Clovis, started to say, as Euphemia's eyes narrowed just as Clovis held his arms up at his sides like he was acknowledging an audience, "Including, of course the many cooperative Elevens that choose to serve the Empire of Britannia."
Meanwhile, the terrorists in the truck that was fleeing from the police were watching a mini-TV built into the truck and were also listening to Clovis's speech.
"We're not Elevens, we're Japanese," the female passenger growled bitterly with venomous hatred in her voice.
"They're not Elevens, they're Japanese you overly pompous twit," Euphemia thought bitterly, glaring up at the screen, imagining that Clovis was right there so she could give him a piece of her mind.
"Do you not see my pain?" Clovis went on as he brought his hand over his heart and grasped his jacket as if he were suffering a heart attack, in an overly dramatic fashion "My heart was ripped from my chest only to be torn apart. The remnants are filled with rage and sadness. However, as ruler of Area Eleven, I will not tolerate terrorism of any kind because the battle we fight is a righteous one; a virtuous battle to protect the well-being of one and all. Now then everyone, I would like you to join me in observance of the eight who died for justice; in the line of duty."
"A moment of silence please," the electronic voice boomed as Rivalz prepared his bike and Euphemia dealt with the parking meter.
"Well, aren't you going to join in?" Rivalz asked as the parking barrier descended into the ground.
"Aren't you?" Euphemia replied simply with her own question.
"Heh, it's sort of embarrassing," Rivalz replied as he mounted himself o the bike.
"And I agree with you," Euphemia said in agreement, picking up a slip of paper from the meter, "Besides, spilling tears over those people won't bring them back to life now, will it?"
"Dang, that's dark Euphie," Rivalz responded, placing his goggles over his eyes.
"It's all about self-satisfaction," Euphemia went on, though whether it was a response to his comment or if she had ignored him and was just continuing her speech, Rivalz did not know, "Doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't do it. There's no way you can change the world."
There was a bitter tone hidden in her voice as she glared up at the now blank TV screen. If tears could bring people back, then Lelouch and Lady Marianne would have been brought back years ago; not that she was against grieving and mourning. After all, bereavements causing sadness and pain was natural. However, she knew that Clovis was blowing it out of proportions.
"What about the fifty-one others?" she thought furiously, shaking her head in disgust.
It was typical Britannian pride, she figured; caring only for their own while everyone else did not matter in the slightest. Clovis was one such example, displayed in his speech, acting like a wounded child, saddened by his injuries and pleading for help. He was a good actor, she would give him that much. Many of the Britannians living in the settlements were too ignorant and self-absorbed with themselves to see through his façade; either that or, in some cases, they just did not care and it was that attitude that sickened her. The majority of people did not seem to realise that non-Britannians were people as well just like them. Clovis, in Euphemia's opinion was just an arrogant pig-headed fool that was way too obsessed with himself.
To any smart person, it was clear that he cared more about his appearance than his duties as the area's viceroy and like the noblemen she had faced in the past, used his overly immaculate good looks and status to get by. Euphemia doubted that he could handle a proper crisis and would probably duck for cover at the first sign of trouble while leaving his forces to deal with the imposing threat.
"You've become just as corrupt as that man," she thought bitterly, cringing as the words, "that man"; the term she used to address her father, passed through her mind as she climbed into the pillion attached to the motorcycle as she remembered her time with Clovis before she and Nunnally were exiled, "Are you really that weak that you allow that man to poison your mind with his tyrannical garbage?"
Meanwhile, in the building where Clovis had given his speech, Clovis stood on a platform as the robotic cameras and microphones ascended and removed themselves as Clovis descended a small flight of stairs leading down from the platform. The room itself was filled with well-dressed men and woman gossiping and having drinks with one another.
"You were magnificent Your Highness," a woman spoke, commenting Clovis on his performance, "One would never guess that you were attending a party while doing that."
"After all, the Viceroy is the marquee actor of Area Eleven," Clovis replied dismissively as two aides came from either side and removed his cloak for him, "I need to change costumes quickly."
"My, you're so self-confident," the woman replied as Clovis brushed his fingers against the cloth hanging out from the top of his jacket.
"It's all in the performance," Clovis went on, not caring for the woman's comment, looking off to his left, "Since the media want a charismatic prince, I give them one."
"Untrue," a man who was obviously a journalist from the media spoke up, "Prince Clovis, our key purpose in life is to support and assist your reign in any way we can."
"His reign s a pathetic sham," a man leaning against the wall to the right of the entrance door just mumbled, looking up from a book he was reading.
He was situated behind the journalists and reading a book, clearly uninterested in the party and was one of the few who knew Clovis's true colours and how he had little to no regard whatsoever to even his own people and would no doubt use them all as human shields to save his skin.
"My, my, your mother, Gabriella would be so proud if she saw you now," a woman said in an almost boastful tone as she walked in front of Clovis.
This woman, who had waist-length reddish pink hair and deep aqua blue eyes, caused Clovis to shiver. She had black lipstick lining her lips and wore a red strapless dress with matching red high-heeled shoes and a necklace with a hexagonal shaped diamond ruby.
"I'm sure she would be… Lady Rochelle," Clovis replied with a cringe, trying hard to keep the disgust out of his voice.
This woman, Rochelle li Britannia was, along with his own mother, Gabriella la Britannia was one of his father's many wives. Unfortunately, she kept on making frequent trips over to "Area Eleven" and constantly harassed him for tougher measures in handling the "Numbers" as the natives were called. Of course, he knew the truth. Clovis remembered when his father had Rochelle's youngest daughter, Euphemia and Lady Marianne's daughter, Nunnally exiled to Japan. Rochelle had rather reluctantly gone along with sending Euphemia to Japan, since she had confronted the Emperor about Lady Marianne's assassination.
In truth, Rochelle absolutely despised Lady Marianne with a passion and was actually quite pleased that she had "removed" as she saw it. In Rochelle's eyes, Lady Marianne had been a curse on the nobility due to her commoner status and the fact that she was able to hide it well with her actions. Many of the other Imperial Consorts did dislike Lady Marianne for her commoner status, but they did have some degree of respect for her due to her phenomenal skills as a Knightmare pilot and how she managed to hold her own against them all when they ganged up on her. However, unlike them, Rochelle had no respect for Lady Marianne whatsoever and absolutely reviled her and detested her children and only allowed her own children to socialise with Lady Marianne's at the Emperor's insistence.
Anyway, when Euphemia was sent away to Japan along with Nunnally as a political bargaining chip, Rochelle had reluctantly gone along with it due to Euphemia standing up for "that disgusting witch" as Rochelle had dubbed Lady Marianne. Her hatred was only amplified through her oldest daughter, Cornelia's idolisation of Lady Marianne; Cornelia who was in charge of Lady Marianne's personal guard and who failed to protect her and her son, Lelouch and who also put a lot of effort into countless investigations into the assassination that proved futile.
After the war with Japan was over, Euphemia and Nunnally were declared dead and Rochelle had become rather infuriated over the loss of her daughter; so infuriated that she saw it fit to punish the people of "Area Eleven" as a means of revenge. However, since she was not the Viceroy, she could not do anything, so she constantly harassed and pressured Clovis, the current Viceroy into introducing new laws that would oppress the "Elevens" even further, though Clovis believed that her plan was to provoke them into rebelling in order to look for an excuse to kill as many of them off as possible.
That absolutely disgusted Clovis. Despite his outward image, he was not as ignorant and as arrogant as he made himself appear to be. In truth, he was not much of a leader, preferring his talent for art and wanted to take up painting. He only became Viceroy upon his father's insistence, plus the added threat of disinheritance if he refused. Unfortunately, his lack of leadership skills made it easy for Rochelle to manipulate him. He felt like he was nothing more than a puppet with Rochelle as his puppeteer, pulling his strings and that notion terrified him. If anything went wrong with her plans, he would be the one who would ultimately pay the price. To avoid public suspicions, he had come up with a rather clever façade, hiding his feelings behind outward arrogance and ignorance.
As far as the "Numbers" went, he really did not mind them and would prefer it if he could make them happy… even if it was just to minimise the terrorist activity. Unfortunately, he knew that Rochelle would chew him up and spit him out if she caught wind of him trying to introduce pro-"Number" legislations. It was because of Rochelle that he had lasted this long as Viceroy. She was the one who arranged everything he needed for his façade, as it also meant it kept the public from knowing that she was the one who truly held power here.
"Y-your Highness, Lady Rochelle," a voice came, bringing Clovis out of his thoughts as he turned to see a pudgy bald-headed solder wearing a monocle over his right eye came running towards him and Rochelle.
"Huh, a soldier," the man leaning against the wall behind the journalists said quietly as he noticed the man running right past him.
"Gad, how boorish of you," Clovis said in a scolding tone
"I beg you're pardon Your Highness; My Lord, My Lady," the soldier said as he proceeded to tell them what was wrong.
"Not another appearance for him," the man leaning against the wall said, looking towards Clovis before he turned to leave; clearly unable to stand being in his presence any longer, "I hope it's not a dreary…"
"You fool!" he heard Rochelle exclaim, causing him to stop and turn back to look on curiously.
"The police were informed that it was medical equipment, that's all," the soldier spoke, keeping his voice barely above a whisper, "If we scramble the army, there'll be a…"
"Deploy the Royal Guard; the Knightmares as well," Rochelle said in a demanding tone, unknowingly raising her voice.
"N-n-now wait a m-minute…" Clovis said in an attempt to protest.
"You know as well as I do that we can't have this little project of ours making it into the public domain," Rochelle interrupted him in a quiet, yet harsh tone, "You know what will happen if knowledge of this was be made public."
Clovis opened his mouth to protest, a after a small glare from Rochelle, closed it and shook his head with a sigh.
"Do as she says Bartley," Clovis said in a defeated tone.
Not long afterwards in a Knightmare hanger, an alarm sounded as the Knightmare pilots made their way to their knightmares.
"Alert one, alert one," an electronically recorded voice said, "Fourth, seventh and eighth rapid rapid-reaction companies, as well as the thirty-first air-assault team, immediately scramble. Special division nine stand by for deployment."
Two pilots; Jeremiah Gottwald and his second-in-command of the Pureblood Faction, Villetta Nu both got inside their Knightmares; Sutherlands ready for their next mission whatever it may be as they started up their Knightmares.
Meanwhile, Rivalz and Euphemia were on their way back to Ashford Academy as Rivalz drove along the highway with Euphemia reading a book. So far the trip had been quiet; however, unable to take the silence any longer, Rivalz decided to start a conversation.
"That first move you made," he started, referring to Euphemia's chess match with Mr Spacer as Euphemia raised her head from her book, "Why'd you start with the king?"
"Like I told Mr Spacer, I learned how to play chess from my late half-brother, Lelouch and you know what he taught me?" she replied in an uninterested tone.
"What?" Rivalz asked curiously.
"If the king does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?" Euphemia replied, clearly wanting to go back to reading her book.
"What's with that?" Rivalz replied in confusion.
"With what?" Euphemia responded with a shrug.
"Do you fantasise about running a major corporation?" Rivalz asked with interest.
"No way, ambitions like that will ruin you health," Euphemia replied with a hint of frustration, "Now can you please be quiet? I'm trying to read."
Rivalz opened his mouth to replied, but the beeping of a horn caught the duo's attention, causing them to look behind them and they saw a really big truck speeding towards them.
"WAH!" Rivalz shrieked as he panicked and moved to get out of the truck's way as quickly as possible, "We're gonna die!"
Inside the truck, the driver noticed the motorcycle in front of them and growled in anger. This was just perfect. They finally stole something from Britannia that they were planning on using against them; they had been caught much sooner than they predicted and now a motorcycle was blocking their escape.
"You idiot, watch where you're going!" the driver growled dangerously as he turned the steering wheel in an effort to avoid hitting the motorcycle.
"No, not that way," his female passenger screamed in alarm, turning to face him as she realised in his haste, he had taken a wrong turn.
The truck went off down a side road to the left, knocking over some traffic cones and crashed through a barrier and into a construction site. The driver hastily tried to perform a U-turn, but the truck skidded into the side of a wall with the impact causing the door on the roof of the truck's container to open.
Rivalz skidded to a halt as he turned to witness the dust rising from the construction site where the truck had crashed.
"Ah, was that our fault?" he asked Euphemia in a dumbfounded, confused tone.
"I don't think so," Euphemia replied with a scoff, "It's his own damn fault for driving too fast. He could've killed someone."
She then looked up, noticing a police aircraft hovering nearby as if observing the scene.
"Control, the target has crashed at the abandoned VO building construction site," the pilot of the nearby police aircraft reported as he witnessed the scene unfold.
"The military will take over, General Bartley's command," the voice on the other end of the radio said.
"Him?" the pilot asked in shock, clearly not expected that answer.
Bartley Asprius walked down a corridor of the Viceroy Palace with a seriously furious look on his face. He was furious that the people in charge of the project that Lady Rochelle and Prince Clovis were working on had allowed it to fall into the hands of terrorists and he could not help but shudder to think of the consequences in knowledge of what it was they were working on managed to make it out into the public domain.
"We have to retrieve it at all costs; that thing," he thought furiously, "In the wrong hands…"
He trailed off, not even wanting to think about that possibility. The project was top secret and he knew that the terrorists obviously had mistaken it for something else, but still… the powers involved with the project were totally out-of-this-world and in the hands of terrorists, Bartley feared that those powers could be used to overthrow the Holy Britannian Empire and that was something he was going to prevent no matter what the cost.
Back at the construction site, Euphemia made her way over to the side of the road overlook the site as the sun's glare caught in her goggles
"What the…?" she said in a confused tone, taking off her helmet as she looked down as saw what appeared to be particles of light rising through the dust as it started to settled.
For a brief moment, Euphemia could have sworn she saw the particles of light come together and take the form of a transparent girl, but it was so brief and the particles then split apart and vanished, leaving Euphemia to wonder if it had been her imagination or perhaps a trick of the light since the glare of the sun had hit her goggles, but deep down in her mind, she knew that there was something else going on.
"Oh man, this sucks," Rivalz said as he inspected the motorbike, "Looks like the power line on the bike got cut."
"Yeah," Euphemia said, still in a confused tone as she removed her goggles to get a better look before speaking in a louder voice, "Rivalz, come check this out."
The voices of bystanders caught her attention as she looked to her right and saw people starting to gather and make comments and take pictures, not bothering to go and see if the occupants of the truck needed help, though she overheard one man making that suggestion, but was ignored.
"Oh, those idiots," Euphemia thought bitterly at witnessing their uncaring attitude as she glared at them, "I'm not like them."
Did they not realise that the driver could be seriously hurt and in need of medical attention? However, as she continued to watch the people gather and listen to their uncaring comments about how it was probably a drunk driver and other banter, she felt herself wretch. Those uncaring idiots seemed to believe that whoever was in the truck deserved what had happened and though she had to admit that the truck had been speeding, that was no reason to leave the occupants in need of help.
Unable to take the comments any longer, she threw her helmet and goggles into the motorcycle's pillion and ran down to see if she could help.
"Hey wait Euphie," Rivalz called out as he noticed her leave, but she completely ignored him.
Inside the truck, the driver and his female passenger were starting to recover as they struggled against the airbags that were pushing up against them.
Outside, Euphemia ran up to the truck as the people continued to make their comments.
"Look, the student rescue team has arrived," one man joked after seeing Euphemia.
However, Euphemia ignored him and the others as she rushed up to the cab, which was lodged behind the wall and Euphemia found that she was unable to get through.
"Hey, are you alright?" she called out.
No reply came and Euphemia started looking around for another way to get to the cab and the occupants. As she started to run to the other side, she noticed a ladder on the side of the truck's container and then moved to climb up for a quicker way round.
Meanwhile, Rivalz was stuck pushing his motorcycle, clearly not happy with Euphemia choosing to go and help the occupants of the crashed truck. In his opinion, it was their own fault for driving too fast in the first place. However, he did reason that regardless of whose fault it was, it was still right to go and see if they were in need of help, but that did not mean to say he wanted to. After all, they both had a class to get back to at school and Euphemia's decision to help would no doubt cause them to be late.
"Yeah, yeah, I know that it's the right thing to do," he complained in a dissatisfied tone to no one in particular as he pushed the motorcycle, "But I wish that girl would quit flaunting her pride and give it a rest for a while. Now we're gonna be late to school."
Inside the truck, the airbags started to deflate and the male driver had been rendered unconscious with his female companion looking on in concern.
"Nagata," she said in hurried alarm, "Nagata."
The driver, Nagata groaned as he started to regain consciousness.
Outside, Euphemia had reached the top of the truck and looked for a way to the cab from the roof, but found none.
"Can you hear me?" she called out into the building, "Are you okay?"
For a brief moment, an image of a dark blue background flashed before her eyes with multicoloured streaks highlighting a path in front of her.
"It's you," she heard a female voice echo in her mind, "Finally, I have found my…"
The voice trailed off, sounding rather faint and weak, but it left Euphemia looking around in confusion.
"W-where…?" she asked herself in a quiet voice, unsure what to make of it.
However, as she continued to look in confusion and noticed an opening in the roof, she failed to hear the engine of the truck start back up.
"Are you in there?" she shouted into the opening, wondering just where that voice had come from and wondered if the woman was inside.
The sound of skidding tires brought her back to reality. However, the truck violently reversed out of the building, causing Euphemia to fall inside the container head-first.
Author's Notes – Well that's chapter one down and I know that it's mostly just a copy of the anime with Euphemia in Lelouch's place, however as you can see from the extra scenes and the introduction of Rochelle, I don't want just a story that basically copies the anime. As for the name of Cornelia and Euphemia's mother, Rochelle, their mother's name was never revealed in the anime. The only other two consorts beside Marianne whose names were revealed where Clovis's mother and Odysseus's mother. As for the reason why Rochelle's here, I want Cornelia to have an extra incentive for hunting Euphemia down (though she won't know its Euphemia she's hunting) and Rochelle's perfect for providing that and I seriously have plans for Clovis that don't involve him dying. I wanted him as Rochelle's puppet ruler as an excuse for Euphemia to spare him. I urge you all to give this fic a chance. It may follow the anime right now, but there will be differences and Euphemia won't be called Zero. Her alias will be f a different name altogether and don't be afraid to review. I know this is different, but like I said, Euphemia won't be a female Lelouch despite, as you have seen, I've had her say Lelouch's lines in the anime. He reaction to death will be different and some of her cannon personality will remain. It's just that her father sending her off with Nunnally has woken her up to reality and she's more open-minded.