3: Human Demons (Lelucia's Point of View)
"Lelucia, you slept through class again, didn't you?!"
The accusatory voice belonged to Shane Finette, a boy my age with an attractive and well-toned body practically built for swimming competitions. His hair, which reached nearly to his shoulders, was light reddish-auburn, and his eyes were jade-green. Perhaps the color of his eyes reminded me of Suzaku, and that's why I always felt a little enticed by him. However, at the current point in my life, Shane had been little more than a bother. He and I were members of the student council, and he constantly told me off for not being serious enough. For acting like I didn't care. And Shane was exactly right: I valued my friendships with those on the student council, but I really didn't give a damn about school. I cared even less about council duties or setting a good example for other students.
It had been seven years since I started my life over as Lelucia Lamperouge, living with Nannaru in the Ashford Academy property, with my life essentially paid for by the Ashfords. I couldn't stand being so needy and incapable of caring for myself and Nannaru. Perpetually bored, I could only feel better by taking ridiculous risks. A year ago, I had taken up gambling, often sneaking off campus during school breaks to find rich opponents. I didn't do anything really stupid like play games of pure chance; I played chess and other games that relied on strategy and intellect. Most of the people I played against were entitled Britannian bastards, because, firstly, I loved to see them lose, and secondly, the Japanese (or "Elevens" as they were now called) were not allowed to gamble. With my less than honorable pastime, I made a good deal of money, half of which went to savings and half of which I gave to the Ashfords in order to feel like I was contributing.
It was no wonder Shane fussed at me so often when I took such risks. I might as well have been a delinquent. The other members of the student council didn't let it bother them, though. Milly Ashford, who had become a beautiful young woman with golden hair, was the student council president, and when she wasn't busy running the school, she played pranks and caused mischief. She had little time to spare on me, thank goodness. The petite, dark-and-curly-haired Nina Einstein kept herself occupied with acing every class, competing for top scores, and conducting independent research. She was goal-oriented and determined, though you wouldn't know it at first from talking to her, since she seemed so socially timid. Then there was the student council secretary, Rivalz Cardemonde.
He was a lanky and excitable boy with unruly, spiky hair and honest grey eyes. Laid-back and easy to please, a grin was never far from his features. Rather than lecture me like Shane, Rivalz seemed to admire my exploits, and often came along with me to watch me gamble. He also didn't give a damn about me skipping meetings, being late to lectures, or sleeping through classes. While Shane bemoaned the fact that I never put my high intelligence to good use (competing for grades and such), Rivalz was simply impressed by my obvious brainpower. To be honest, I wasn't the least bit attracted to the boy, and as for his feelings, Rivalz seemed to be drawn to Milly more than anyone else. Our relationship was thus free of any complicated romantic feelings. Having such a friendship felt like relieving breath of fresh air to me. Rivalz treated me like "one of the guys," and sometimes even seemed to forget I was a girl. That's the way I liked it, though. I went so far as to wear the boy's uniform on most school days.
When I started my second year of high school at Ashford Academy, I was struck by how little I had changed, at my core. Looking from the outside, it might not seem that way. I had certainly changed physically in the last seven years. I grew to be fairly tall for a girl (about 5'8"), and developed modest B-cup breasts along with a slight curve to my hips. Still stick-thin as I had been as a child, I only weighed about 120 pounds, and had no strength. My body might have been well-suited for running if I had dedicated time to practicing and building leg muscle—but that sort of thing never interested me. My lifestyle had undergone massive change as well. As a child, I had been a pampered Princess of Britannia, but as a seventeen-year-old, I lived in a foreign country under a fake name; and though Nannaru and I were far more privileged than most Elevens, we could not qualify as aristocrats anymore.
Despite all these vagaries, my core self remained unaltered. I still loved Nannaru more than anything in the world, and spoiled him as much as I could. I still missed Suzaku, my one true friend, who hadn't contacted me in five years. I still grieved to see the Elevens abused and treated like sub-humans by the racist Britannians. And of course, I still hated my native country and my family. I wanted more than anything to destroy the empire and its ruling class. When I thought about how nothing had really changed, I grew depressed and frustrated. Fortunately for me, though, my seventeenth year would be a time of sudden and dramatic transformation. This was the year I would inherit the Power of Kings, the Geass. This year I would found the Black Knights. This year, I would gain the attention of the whole world, and throw Japan into a bloody war once again.
*****Line Break*****
I finally reunited with Kururugi Suzaku in a deserted underground building of metal within the Shinjuku Ghetto. At the time, Knightmares and troops were occupying the whole area and wiping out some three hundred innocent Elevens simply because there were a handful of terrorists hiding among them. I could hear the unmistakable sound of gunfire from automatic weaponry. Even from where I was, away from most of the slaughter, I recognized the scent of death. I stood inside an unmoving truck that had overturned onto its side when the driver activated a bomb in attempt to destroy the whole vehicle and everything in it. However, only the front of the truck had been destroyed in the blast (taking the driver with it). I was safe, as was the mysterious cargo of the truck: some kind of large capsule of reinforced metal, which could be opened by turning a wheel on the side. My first thought was that it was a bomb.
Confused? First, let me tell you in brief how I came to be trapped in a terrorist's truck in an area of bloodshed and slaughter. I owned a motor scooter with a seat fixed to the side for a passenger. I was driving the scooter with Rivalz in the seat beside me, on our way back to school after a successful gambling exploit. We had heard on the news that a group of terrorists (Elevens) had stolen an important weapon and killed eight Britannians. I didn't really care about the eight that perished; they were Britannian curs. By and by, a large truck appeared behind Rivalz and myself. It was going way above the speed limit, and looking out of control. I steered away from the large vehicle, only to look back and see that it had crashed against a wall by veering off the main road too quickly and entering a cul-de-sac with a stone wall at its end.
A small crowd of onlookers gathered around and started gossiping and taking pictures of the scene on their cell phones. Not a single one of them moved to go see if the driver and the passenger in truck were alive. Angrily, I went to go see for myself. Rivalz stayed behind with the scooter. Before checking on the driver and passenger, I wanted to see what they were carrying, already suspecting something was amiss. There was a ladder on the outside of the truck, which by the way had high walls on all sides but no roofing. I climbed the ladder and peeked down to see the cargo. There it was, that capsule that looked like it could be a bomb or some kind of biological weapon. Could this be what the terrorists stole?
Without any warning, the truck started moving again. It backed up, did a three-point turn, and returned to the main highway, flying along at a ridiculous speed. The sudden turning force made me fall down into the truck with the cargo. For a short time, I couldn't see what was going on, but the sounds were enough to let me know. An armed helicopter began pursuing the truck, firing warning shots, and demanding that the terrorists surrender.
Along with the strange capsule, there was also an outdated Knightmare frame in the back of the truck. To my surprise, the person who had been in the passenger's seat came into the cargo hold to pilot the mech. I hid myself instinctively. The "terrorist" I saw before me was a beautiful girl with spiky red hair and fierce blue eyes. She looked like she had some Japanese in her, but obviously wasn't full-blooded. That girl, who I would later come to know as Kallen Stadtfield, took charge of the Knightmare and left the back of the truck, ready to fight the Britannian pursuers.
While she presumably fought off the helicopter and what sounded like an enemy Knightmare, the driver of the truck continued zooming forward at breakneck speed. More enemies must have blocked the road in front, because for some reason, the driver suddenly veered off the road once again. This time we crashed inside a metal building below ground level. I heard the driver shout, "Long live Japan," just before blowing up himself and the front half of the vehicle. The entire back part of the truck turned over onto its side by thanks to the explosion. The large, round, and unrecognizable "weapon" tumbled out of the truck, along with me. Luckily, I wasn't injured. I knew the explosion would alert the Britannians to this location, and I planned to appeal to them to move me to safety. Would they listen, or would they kill me for just being at the wrong place at the wrong time? I waited anxiously to find out.
Soon, a soldier appeared at the entryway of the garage-like metal enclosure. Dressed in gray and black armor, with a helmet covering his whole head, he approached silently. I noted the assault rifle he was carrying and swallowed hard. At once, I began stammering that I was only a Britannian student and I had nothing to do with any of this, but the soldier leaped at me and performed a powerful mid-air kick that knocked me down on my ass. Then he was on top of me, one hand at my throat.
"Terrorist," the soldier addressed me severely, "stop killing people! And to think you would use poison gas, no less! Don't you know you're going to involve innocent people in—"
"Suzaku!" I interrupted with some effort—it was difficult to breathe, let alone shout. But all my fear had vanished. I knew that spinning kick move. I had seen Suzaku perform it beautifully so many times, when we went to General Tohdoh's Dojo that summer seven years ago. "Suzaku!" I called to him. "It's me!"
"Lelucia?" The soldier released me and removed his helmet. That short brown hair, that slender yet toned build, those sparkling forest-green eyes: it was indeed Suzaku. "It really is you, Lelucia!" he exclaimed. And he smiled: such a sincere and expressive smile, conveying the raw happiness he felt at seeing me again, and the hope that we could once again grow close to one another. He looked so handsome. If I had been more feminine and less likely to hide my feelings, I would have blushed.
"So you joined up with the army," I noted, as Suzaku stood up and obligingly pulled me to my feet. I couldn't help thinking that him being a soldier was extremely odd. By joining the army, an Eleven could become accepted as an Honorary Britannian and enjoy something closer to civil liberty and fair treatment. However, the Suzaku I knew had never been interested in sucking up to the Britannians. He didn't have the personality that would just shut up and follow orders, either. I had feared for years that Suzaku would die by picking a fight with a Britannian aristocrat over some insult to his people or to his pride. I often worried that he was dead already as a result of his stubbornness. Yet here he was, a private in the Britannian military. Despite myself, I grew angry.
"You said this was poison gas," I snapped at him, showing my true feelings more than I was used to. "The terrorists may have stolen it, but it was Britannia that made this weapon. And you said 'stop killing'?! The empire is the one killing innocents. If you want that to stop, fight to destroy Britannia!"
"Wait," said Suzaku, as if putting two and two together. "Don't tell me you're really a terrorist after all?"
"What are you saying?!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "Of course I'm not a—"
Suddenly and unaccountably, the round, metallic weapon beside us began to open. At first it did look like gas was spewing out of it. Faster than I could think, Suzaku knocked me over and shielded me with his body in case of an explosion. At the same time, he covered my mouth with his gloved hand, trying to keep me from breathing in the supposedly poisonous gas. However, after the initial blast of steam, no visible gas could be seen, and I couldn't smell anything either. A strange golden light streamed up from the open capsule, and with it came a strange girl.
Even if she hadn't been dressed in something that looked like a white body bag, secured in places with metal restraints, the girl still would have looked unnatural. With her long, silky, mint-green hair, the red tattoo on her forehead, and the way she seemed to glow, she looked inhuman. At the same time, she was unarguably gorgeous. Ever since I started high school, I noticed that I can be as physically attracted to other girls as much as I am to men. To be honest, I thought this green-haired girl was the most femininely beautiful person I had ever seen. While Suzaku and I stared at her, she rose up slowly from inside the capsule, lost her balance, and tumbled onto the ground. She could barely move, what with most of her body covered in the zippered white cloth, and metal rings around her ankles and wrists to boot. The girl's eyes were closed, and she didn't seem to be moving. It was as if she were sleeping.
Suzaku at once started to remove the metal restraints. At the same time he muttered something about how he was sure the commander told him there would be poison gas, and this made no sense. He started unzipping the white body bag around the girl. Underneath the tough cloth, she was in her underwear, so Suzaku didn't dare remove the whole thing. He did just enough so that she could move freely. I wondered to myself if he felt at all tempted in regards to the girl, and that thought made me realize something quite suddenly. Suzaku and I were both at an age where sexual tension and desire runs high; he was a male and I was a female, and it was possible the two of us could…
"You little ape!" The harsh voice shattered my teenage contemplation and startled Suzaku as well. We both looked at the owner of the voice: it was a Britannian man of high-ranking, probably a General, with about nine armed soldiers behind him. He had been addressing Suzaku when he said, "You little ape." With a sour look on his face, the bearded general continued, "So you're setting that girl free. I don't recall giving that much authority to a mere 'Honorary' Britannian."
I had already gathered that this strange girl must be someone of great importance to the empire, but Suzaku wasn't as quick to catch on; he hurried over to the general a few yards away, saluted, and started saying all the wrong things. "I'm sorry, General, but I heard that there was poison gas. There must have been some misinformation. When I saw the girl, I had to do something. Who is she? Do you know what's really—"
"You don't have the right to argue!" the General interrupted. He quickly glanced at me and the as-yet unconscious green-haired girl before speaking again. "However, Private Kururugi, you managed to capture one of the terrorists, and you located the girl before she could wake up and escape. In light of your accomplishments, I'll give you a chance to prove your loyalty to me." He gave Suzaku a hefty, blockish-looking hand-gun. "Here. Use this to kill the terrorist."
Then Suzaku finally caught on to the fact that my life was in grave danger. "You're mistaken about her, General!" he exclaimed. "Lelucia is just a civilian who accidentally got caught up in this."
"Bastard," the General insulted him. "I gave you an order! Didn't you pledge allegiance to Britannia?!"
There was no sign of inner conflict on his face or in his voice: no indication that Suzaku even considered shooting me. Right away, he said, "I'm sorry, sir. I can't do it. I won't do it. Not a civilian like her." As he ended his sentence, Suzaku turned his head to look back at me. Again, he showed me his honest smile. Two seconds later, Suzaku was on the ground, unmoving. The General had shot him. At such close range, I couldn't imagine the shot wouldn't be fatal.
I screamed. Head in my hands, I released all my shock, disbelief, sorrow, and rage into an anguished shriek. It couldn't be true. Suzaku couldn't be dead. I became frozen in shock. Until then, I didn't realize how important he was to me. My childhood friend. The savior of my life and Nannaru's. The strongest man I had ever known, with a heart of gold. For a few minutes, I dissociated from reality and had only a vague idea of what was happening around me. The General was making up some excuse or lie that would justify killing a young Britannian student. I heard him fire his gun, but I wasn't hit. The mysterious green-haired girl had woken up and jumped in the way. I didn't see exactly where or how she was shot, but I assumed she was dead as her body crumpled to the ground in front of me. Blearily, I saw that Britannian General reloading his gun in preparation to kill me. This time, no one was left to protect me.
My mind drifted back to reality, and I found myself faced with certain, imminent death. Was this the end? Would I die without ever accomplishing anything? Would Nannaru survive without me? As I closed my eyes and braced myself, the last thing I thought of was Suzaku. In my mind's eye, I saw him smiling at me as he had only moments before. I never even got to tell him how much I cared about him, how grateful to him I felt…the thought was unbearable.
"Suzaku," I whispered his name.
"It looks like you have a reason to live," said a voice inside my head.
Somehow, I knew it was the voice of the green-haired girl, whose hand I was holding, as blood leaked out of the bullet hole in her forehead. She should be dead. How was she talking to me? Half a dozen images rushed before my eyes out of nowhere. I stood in an open space of pure white, naked, and across from me, also unclothed, the green-haired girl stood extending a hand to me. I saw the networks of my brain cells and synapses in blue and white, intricate designs I could not begin to comprehend. Among the crisscrossing lines I fell, tangled in the complexity. Then I saw two planets drawing close to one another, until a curtain of white feathers, spiraling in the wind, obscured the view of space. Last, I saw hundreds of young men and women, kneeling as if in prayer. They all bore the same red tattoo on their foreheads, which resembled the silhouette of a bird in flight. Could they be part of an unknown culture?
While all these things flashed before my eyes, the girl's voice spoke to me. "If you have Power, you may be able to live. This is a contract. I'll grant you a certain Power, but in return, you must grant one of my wishes. If you agree to the contract, you will live as a human, yet differ from other humans. A different destiny, a different time, a different life. The Power of Kings will isolate you. If you are prepared for that, then…"
I was falling listlessly through what looked like neural networks, changing from blue to green to gold and finally to red. Then, for a second, I thought I saw an image of my father, standing before a great archway leading into another world. Was this Power the girl spoke of something that my father also possessed? If he could handle it, so could I.
"Fine then," I said in my head to the girl. I had never felt more certain of anything in my life. "I'll bind that contract!"
All of that felt like it had taken a lifetime, but only seconds had passed in reality. The General was still standing a few feet from me, preparing his gun. The mysterious and beautiful green-haired girl lay in a pool of her own blood. I was on my knees beside her. Suzaku's unmoving body lay at the General's feet, but I couldn't bring myself to look at it. Suddenly, I found myself brimming with confidence in my new power, driven by hatred for Britannia and love for Suzaku. I stood up and faced the soldiers with a half-smile on my pale face.
"Tell me," I began. "How should a Britannian who hates Britannia live his life?"
"Are you some kind of idealist?" the General grunted, pointing his pistol at me. He didn't shoot right away though. He looked a little puzzled, a little uneasy, as if he sensed something by looking at me.
"What's wrong?" I asked in a patronizing voice. "Why don't you shoot? Your opponent is only a helpless student, and a girl at that. Or perhaps you've realized it. That the only ones allowed to kill should be those who are prepared to die." Until then, I had been covering my left eye with my hand; I felt sheer power burning there. Now, I removed my hand, and looked straight at the enemy. The vision in my left eye went red for a moment and I saw the same shape as the tattoo that looked like a bird in flight.
"What—what is that?" the General demanded, suddenly trembling. To him I must have looked like some demon, tall and elegant, pale as death, one eye glazed with red.
"Lelucia vi Britannia commands you bastards," I announced. "Die."
The General gave a laugh and moved his gun so it was pointed at his own head. I could see a ring of red around his irises. The other soldiers also pointed their guns at themselves. In unison, they said, "Yes, Your Highness," and summarily committed suicide. They blew their own heads apart, spattering blood and brains everywhere. Even from where I stood a few feet away, a little splash of hot blood stained my cheek. It was astounding how colorful fresh human brains were. It was amazing how a skull could fall apart once blasted through by a high millimeter bullet. I struggled with a feeling of sickness for a moment, fully aware that I had just killed ten men: humans. But I wasn't sorry for it. The sickness passed quickly without me needing to vomit. After all, these sons of bitches had killed Suzaku. They deserved to die. If anything, I had killed them too mercifully.
Now, there was still much to be done. The day was young, and a demon had been born inside me.