A/N: Please note that unlike in previous chapters, the dialogue spoken in Japanese will be written in English in this chapter. This trend is likely to follow in later chapters.


"And now I have the pleasure of holding an exclusive interview with General Bartley Aspirus, the commander leading our invasion of Japan."

As nothing happened, the news anchor glanced off to one side, uncertainty flitting across her face. All of a sudden, her lips curled into a photogenic smile complete with dazzling, white teeth.

"Sorry for the delay! We've got a live feed to the General now," explained the woman, "Hello, General! So how are things going over there in Japan?"

Bartley swaggered into view, dressed in full military uniform with a panoply of shiny medals and awards pinned onto his chest and shoulders.

"Things couldn't be going better," boasted the general, "in fact, at this rate, I daresay I might set a record!"

"That's reassuring to hea-"

Suddenly, the video display featuring Bartley shook violently, and the anchor looked off-screen once again.

"Sorry, folks, it looks like we may be having technical trouble," she said.

Bartley chuckled, waving his hand. "No, no, my dear. That was just an explosion on my side!"

"Oh my! Are you all right, General?" asked the anchor.

"No worries, I'm not in any immediate danger. In any case, I'm not afraid to risk my life for the sake of Britannia!" declared Bartley.

His head moved in an almost imperceptible nod, his gaze not quite focused on the camera, and the shaking stopped.

"So, General," she continued, glancing down briefly at the paper on her desk, "We've heard rumors that you've attempted an assault on oh-kee-na-wah, a southern island in Japan. How did that go?"

"It's pronounced oh-kee-na-wee, my dear," drawled Bartley, "In fact, right now we have the main government building on the island surrounded! I predict we'll have taken over this island by nightfall. All in under forty-eight hours!"

She nodded. "So things went well then?"

"Of course, my dear. Britannia has never lost a war, and I plan to continue that trend. The Japanese were no match for Britannian steel and strategy! I don't see why we'll have any trouble on the mainland."

"General, what are your plans now that you have established a presence on Okinawa? How do you plan to proceed?" asked the anchor, once again looking down at her notes.

Bartley smirked, one hand reaching up to rub his chin. "It's simple, my dear. We will use this island as a base of operations to launch an assault on the rest of the nation! Frankly, it's simply a matter of time before we've won!"

"That's reassuring to hear, General!" she replied, "Now let me ask the question that everyone's been waiting to hear. Did the performance of the Knightmare Frame – the military's worst-kept secret - live up to hype? Last night we saw the release of a low-quality amateur video on YouPipe go viral, with over ten million views by this morning. If you aren't aware, it shows something resembling a Knightmare Frame single-handedly take on several tanks and come out unscathed! Could you confirm whether this video is a hoax or not? Is the Knightmare Frame truly capable of something like that?"

Bartley crossed his arms confidently, raising an eyebrow.

"That video does not do justice to the Knightmare Frame – it is everything you could imagine… and more. The Knightmare Frame will change the face of the battlefield. I have every confidence in the future of the Knightmare Frame," he claimed.

She leaned back, dramatically exhaling in disbelief.

"That's incredible!" gushed the anchor, "moving on, I'd like to ask when you foresee the surrender? How long do you think it'll take before the war comes to an end?"

"A matter of weeks," he replied immediately, no hesitation in his tone.

As she opened her mouth to ask another question, he stood up abruptly.

"Sorry, my dear, but duty calls. I must cut this interview short," said Bartley.

She nodded in understanding. "Thank you for your time, General! All Hail Britannia!"

"All Hail Britannia," replied Bartley with a salute as the video feed cut off.

She turned back towards the camera and smiled, "This was Anna Eastwood, BBS news. Good night!"

-oOo-

"It's so hot man… I can't do this anymore…" complained Tamaki for the nth time.

Ohgi frowned, turning back to rebut Tamaki once again. "Look, I've already explained it before. This is the only place in the neighborhood still hiring, with a lot of places closed because of the war…"

Tamaki rolled his eyes, snorting out loud. "Why do we have to go here anyways when we can just join the army?"

Naoto reached out and placed one hand on Tamaki's shoulder. "C'mon, bro. You know Ohgi's right. It's too dangerous, you don't want to get sent to fight at Okinawa, right?"

"You're right, boss man," he replied, acceding to Naoto's argument, "I hear those Brits have fancy robots and stuff."

Ohgi smiled weakly.

"Thanks as always Naoto, you're way better at talking to people than me."

The trio stood in a long line of people that snaked down the sidewalk. As it was midday, the sweltering sun beat down upon them mercilessly, causing them to be drenched in sweat and perspiration. Yet they had suffered in silence (with the exception of Tamaki) for well over an hour, risking boredom and dehydration. And now the culmination of their efforts bore fruit; they finally stood at the head of the queue, right in front of the building.

An uneasy, anxious smile crossed Ohgi's face, and he stepped forwards hesitantly.

"Wish me luck… it's my turn now."

As he crossed the threshold and entered the building, a woman dressed in business attire stepped up to him and directed him to a room to the left, about ten meters down the hallway.

He nervously made the distance, slowly reaching his destination and opening the door.

"Come in."

Inside, he noticed a young boy, possibly anywhere from ten to thirteen, leaning back against his chair with crossed legs rested on the table in front of him. Like the woman he had met previously, the boy was also dressed in formal wear, with tinted, reflective sunglasses which left Ohgi unable to see his eyes.

"Take a seat."

As Ohgi stepped around the chair and sat down gingerly, he laid a manila folder on the table.

"What's that?" asked the boy curiously.

"My resume," explained Ohgi nervously.

"You're hired," came the immediate reply.

"Wha-?" stammered Ohgi, thrown for a loop.

The boy rolled his eyes, taking his legs off the table and sitting up straight. "I was only half-joking. You wouldn't believe how many idiots have stepped into this office already. You're only the fifth person to actually have brought along a cover letter. It's absolutely ridiculous - a quarter of them were even high-school dropouts! How low do they think my standards are?"

As his voice rose in volume, he had unwittingly transitioned from Japanese into English mid-rant.

"I can speak English, by the way," interrupted Ohgi in English.

Lelouch stared at him, at a loss for words. He then raised clenched fists to the level of his chest, tilting his head up towards the heavens in silent triumph.

"You're hired. I'm serious."

Ohgi shook his head disbelievingly. "But you don't know anything about me! I only sat down a minute ago…"

Lelouch shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, pressing a button on his desk.

"Trust me, you've had a longer interview than most of the people before you. I'll just read your resume for the details."

The woman from before stepped in and escorted Ohgi out, half-supporting and half-dragging him as he seemed to have difficulty processing the events of the past couple minutes.

"Bring in the next one, Nakada-san," said Lelouch as she left the room, and she acknowledged his words with a nod.

Before long, another man stepped into the room, taking a seat and beginning to introduce himself.

"Don't tell me, you can speak English too," questioned Lelouch sardonically.

"Um… yes," replied Naoto.

The boy leaned forward, face-planting into the desk in front of him.

"Inconceivable! Why couldn't this have happened when I was interviewing the first twenty…" grumbled Lelouch. "Don't tell me you're with the guy from before?"

"We're friends…" provided Naoto as an explanation.

"You speak Britannian English… there isn't any trace of a Japanese accent, unlike with your friend. How? Where did you study?" questioned Lelouch.

Naoto averted his gaze uncomfortably.

"My… step-father… you might have heard of him… Stadtfelt."

"A Duke, if I recall correctly. But that begets the question; why are you here?" pressed Lelouch.

"I… I'd like to make it on my own. I don't want to rely on his name," whispered Naoto.

Lelouch stared at him, then nodded, once again pressing the much-abused button on his desk.

"You're in."

Naoto nodded gratefully and stood up, following the woman out of the room.

He waited quietly for a minute, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk, until another man poked his head into the room, then withdrew it in a hurry, as if he had been burned.

His patience began to wither as he continued to wait for another five minutes, until Nakada finally manhandled the man from earlier into the room.

As Lelouch opened his mouth to speak Japanese, he was quickly cut off.

"Why's there a little Brit kid here? Is this a penalty game show? I, the great Tamaki, won't be fooled so easily, you know! Where's the camera?" he shouted while glancing wildly at the walls and corners of the room.

"I'm sorry?" whispered Lelouch, in a deathly quiet tone.

Tamaki sneered.

"You're good at acting, aren't you? Pretending you don't know what's going on. But I'm not stupid, you know!"

Lelouch leaned back into his chair, face covered by the palm of his left hand, his right pressing the button on his desk.

"I'm getting too old for this…" he muttered tiredly.

When Nakada stepped into the room, she did a double-take at the man who, by now, was crawling under the desk mumbling about hidden cameras.

"Get rid of the monkey," pleaded Lelouch in English.

She nodded and drew her sleeves up to her forearms, grasping Tamaki by the ankles and dragging him out of the room.

He exhaled, enjoying the moment of solitude that followed. Once she re-entered, he shook his head slowly.

"You know, Nakada-san, I should mention how much of a godsend you've been. I don't know where I'd be without you… I'm surprised old man Kirihara was willing to let you go."

"He is a pervert," stated Nakada flatly, "I informed him that I would be coming here until he has learned his lesson. Perhaps a raise will delay my return."

Lelouch snorted. "I get the hint. But you know we don't have much revenue yet. I can only pay you so much."

"I am well aware. Kaguya-ojousama vouched for you... and that will do for now," she replied. "But I do expect my salary to grow alongside the company profits."

The door suddenly flew open with a loud bang, causing both of them to turn their attention to Tamaki storming in, followed by Ohgi and Naoto.

"Please… give him another chance. I'll vouch for him. He'll take any job! Anything's fine!" begged Ohgi, while Naoto covered Tamaki's mouth, keeping him from speaking.

Lelouch raised an eyebrow skeptically – an action missed by the trio due to his tinted, reflective sunglasses. However, Nakada caught the gesture.

"It seems… a monkey has escaped the zoo, Lelouch-sama. Please allow me to return it."

He raised a hand to stop her.

"It seems you're well aware of how… underqualified your friend is. You said 'anything', didn't you? Tell me… would he be willing to work uncompensated for a trial period?" suggested Lelouch.

Ohgi nodded furiously, while Naoto elbowed Tamaki in the side repeatedly, until he reluctantly mumbled his agreement.

As they left, Lelouch smirked. "You see, Nakada-san. Even an untrained monkey has its uses."

"Lelouch-sama… you're well aware that our legal department is lacking," she cautioned.

He waved his hand dismissively. "The Japanese government has bigger concerns than a few minimum wage violations..."

She tilted her head, acknowledging the point. He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table.

"By the way, I'd like you to handle this. Off the books, of course."

She unfolded the paper, spending a few seconds to skim it.

"Why… corn futures, of all things?" she asked.

Lelouch's smirk grew wider, and he leaned forward. "I'm sure you're well aware of the growing ultranationalist sentiment within the military; their hardline fanaticism exceeds anything I could have possibly expected. Make no mistake, a Japanese defeat is all but inevitable, but it will certainly not be as easy at that fool Bartley claims."

"Yes, but I still don't see what this has to do with corn…"

"Only a few months ago, the new Britannian MREs started using cornbread only," continued Lelouch. "Lobbyists truly are a frightening thing, aren't they?"

"Ah… I see. Within a few months, this investment will certainly deliver a productive yield," she quipped.

He shook his head. "Your puns are as terrible as always, Nakada-san…"

"Perhaps my humor will rise with my salary, Lelouch-sama. Your next interviewee awaits."

As she stepped out, he sighed.

He had never imagined work would be this painful, mind-numbing and dull. How many more idiots would stumble through his doors?

Lelouch sighed once more, steeling himself for yet another long day.

-oOo-

Miyamoto drew a card into his hand, swearing loudly.

"I fold," he grumbled, tossing the hand onto the table.

He was sitting at a table next to a makeshift barricade, playing guard duty for a highway in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do but play cards with a bunch of idiots.

The government had drummed up nationalist sentiment, crying outrage at the Britannian invasion and promising to defend the homeland. Unfortunately, that meant they needed more soldiers. Apparently the battle in Okinawa wasn't going so well, and the Britannians had even begun to encroach into the mainland, if rumors were to be believed.

Miyamoto had been one of the lucky few selected for emergency draft in his district. In the first place, he was really just a farmer's boy who lived in the middle of nowhere – he would have been happy to continue his family's legacy while complaining about the lack of girls in his rural town. But the government didn't care one whit about that, all they wanted was another able-bodied young man who could carry a gun and point it in the right direction.

They had shoved him into boot camp, an accelerated one week program where he had learned very little of value and still had no idea how to shoot his gun accurately, before being dumped out here. Well, if he was lucky, they wouldn't meet anyone. It was quite literally the middle of nowhere – hours could pass by without a single car coming through for them to stop and inspect, especially with the war ramping up.

To be honest, if a force of Britannians actually came down the highway, he'd probably do a runner and try to make it into the forest nearby. There was no way in hell their team of six could fend off anything, not with rifles and grenades. They had also been allocated one antiquated tank, which was fairly useless, since none of them knew how to operate it and its main gun didn't work anymore.

One idiot sitting across from him, Hidaki, seemed firmly convinced that Britannia would run away with their tails tucked between their legs. He claimed that Japan had never lost a war in history, and some other crap that Miyamoto hadn't bothered listening to. Although Miyamoto was just a country hick, he knew that this guy was, simply put, an idiot.

The only higher-ranked member of the team was their leader Matsuda, a Private First Class. He was a patriotic idiot who ranted about saving Japan and glory and freedom and the like. To be honest, Miyamoto was pretty sure nobody liked him, not even Hidaki. The rest of them were freshly-conscripted Privates, though, which meant that officially he was in charge.

If Miyamoto couldn't do get away from the battle, he'd probably throw down his gun and surrender, regardless of what their leader said. It's not like he knew how to use it anyway!

Lost in his thoughts, he gazed off into the distance.

Slowly, he realized that there was a small far-off dot in the background, slowly approaching.

As he squinted his eyes, shielding his face from the oppressive sun, he could make out the hazy figure of large robots on wheels rapidly approaching them.

"What the hell? Hey guys…"

"What do you want, Miyamoto? Still bitter that you suck at cards?" taunted Hidaki.

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the immature taunt. "Do you see that?" he asked, pointing down the highway.

The team turned to stare, before Matsuda dived for his radio, notifying Command of the situation. The rest of them grabbed their guns hesitantly, ducking behind the barricade for cover.

As they came closer, he could make out more detail. Each robot towered over them, dwarfing even the unmanned and abandoned tank beside him. There were three in total, speeding down the highway in a triangle formation, with one taking point and the other two trailing behind.

Once they reached a point about five hundred meters away, one man on the far side of the barricade – Miyamoto was on the edge of the left side, the man was on the right – raised his rifle over the top of the barricade and began firing on full-auto.

This caught the attention of the giant robots, who turned their enormous guns on the barricade and begun firing.

As Miyamoto started sprinting for the forest, metal, plastic and flesh were all demolished behind him, torn apart by simple physics. He ignored the screams, panting heavily as his lungs burned and his legs weakened. A chunk of shrapnel whizzed by, cutting his cheek. He turned reflexively, and he saw a giant metal foot as large as their antiquated tank stomp into the earth barely a meter from him. He quickly lost his balance as the earth shook around him.

Miyamoto threw his rifle aside and covered his head with his hands, groveling in the dirt and trembling in fear. The robot towered over him like a skyscraper, its foot could have crushed him like a bug. The rifle would do him no good, even if he knew how to operate it.

Seconds passed, and then the robot took another step, then another, before the wheels on its heel redeployed and it continued accelerating down the highway, trailed by its companions.

As he looked up from his prone position, he could see the splattered remains of his comrades, the empty husk of the tank, and the shattered bits of the barricade. His team had not been the focus of their fire, they had simply been in the way. The whole battle – if it could be called that – had lasted under twenty seconds.

A terrifying typhoon had swept through the area, leaving only devastation in its wake.

And he had survived.

-oOo-

"Suzaku!" growled Tohdoh, stomping into the room.

The boy in question looked up in concern. Tohdoh was always calm, quiet, and measured, like a mountain in a storm. To hear desperation in his voice was as unthinkable as imaginable as a stone getting angry, and yet it was plain to hear from his tone.

"I told you to move a minute ago!" he roared angrily.

Tohdoh grabbed Suzaku by the arm and dragged him out the door roughly, sweeping him into a fireman's carry and sprinting for the car.

He threw the boy into the backseat before leaping behind the wheel himself and hightailing the car out of the residence. All the other servants had left minutes ago.

"What's going on, Sensei?" asked Suzaku, frightened.

Tohdoh said nothing.

The car accelerated, bumping over the gravel.

Suzaku asked once again.

The car made its way to concrete, and Tohdoh accelerated to speeds that would be illegal on a highway.

Suzaku quickly buckled his seatbelt, turning his head back to look at the Kururugi Shrine.

And then his home exploded.

A fiery blast engulfed the building, tearing apart the wooden structure and leaving behind only burning debris.

Suzaku stopped asking.