Chapter Eight

It was warm. Comfortably warm. He couldn't remember the last time he was this relaxed. So at ease. Perhaps never.

He could feel his entire body being pelted with warmth, like beams of the sun laying across him. They pinned him down, fogging his mind. He felt groggy, but it was peaceful. He didn't want to climb out of sleep yet- it felt like the most incredible rest he'd had in a long while.

His head felt light and airy, his muscles completely loose. Every problem, responsibility, or catastrophe that had weighed him down before didn't matter then. It could wait.

Did he even have any responsibilities? He couldn't remember anymore. Oh well. If it was really so important he'd remember, wouldn't he?

Something cool and smooth passed over his forehead, and combed through his hair. He groaned, upset that whatever was doing it was ruining his moment of bliss. Then it happened again, this time less abrasively. Eventually he didn't mind it much. It was soothing too, in its own way. But he was also curious as to what it was.

He allowed his eyes to open in slits. It was incredibly bright. The source of all the warmth was absolutely blinding. Was it the sun? But immediately after he opened his eyes the "something" that disturbed him stopped. Instead, the light in his eyes was alleviated by an odd-shaped blob getting in the way. It didn't take another second for him to realize it was a person's silhouette. His head was resting on their lap.

The backlighting made the silhouette too dark, too obscured by shadow to see who it was. But it was a woman, he could see their long hair… and the way they wore it was familiar to him. And then:

"You're awake." Her voice was high and bright. She spoke with a soft casualness, like she had just been waiting there for him. When his eyes finally focused he could see her clearly, smile and all.

"Euphie…" Euphemia. His younger half-sister. The younger sister to Cornelia. Even as her name left his lips he could hardly believe it. It was too unreal. She was dead. She had been for over a year. She was a huge motivation for him. After what he'd done to her… Ruining her name. Destroying everything she'd worked for. Forcing himself to kill her.

She only broadened her smile, her lavender eyes gleaming. "Yes, Lelouch." The way she responded made it sound like he had asked a question. But he knew it was really her. Somehow.

"Where am I?"

That made her smile lessen, but it wasn't in sadness, it looked more like pity. "You don't remember?" He shook his head. He could recall everything except whatever just recently happened. Perhaps it was too fresh, and had yet to settle in his mind. "You're dead."

Dead, huh? In the back of his mind, he was concerned with his… lack of concern. His utter lack of surprise. But he didn't fight it. Just accepted it. His memories were swimmingly coming back to him. He knew it was true. "Suzaku," he muttered at last, and Euphemia nodded. "So he did it."

"What you did was very brave." Her hand grazed his cheek again as she spoke.

"No, it wasn't," he shook his head a second time, "It was cowardly. I was only attempting to bury my mistakes. I didn't clear your name or anything. I couldn't."

"That may be so, but you never forgot about me."

Then he suddenly found the energy in himself to sit up. He brought a hand to his head and rubbed at his eyes. "How could I? You didn't deserve any of it." The familiar pang of guilt hit him in chest. He'd never meant to cast that Geass Command on her. And the fact that she'd been the only person to ever resist one so adamantly made it even worse. Still, it wasn't any consolation. He couldn't possibly forgive himself with the excuse of a hopeless accident.

Come to think of it, Suzaku would never forgive him for it either. He had made that perfectly clear.

Euphemia leaned closer to him and placed her hand on his arm. A mass of her bright pink hair fell over her shoulder. "It doesn't matter, because I forgive you."

Lelouch jerked his head around to stare at her in disbelief. She was smiling warmly at him. Truthfully. "You… There's no way you could possibly do that." She didn't break his gaze. How could she even think of forgiving him? No one had ever said that to him before. "But I killed you."

She hummed a laugh, "It wasn't your fault. I know you would've never done something like that on purpose."

"It doesn't matter-"

"Perhaps not to you," she interrupted, "but it does to me."

"But I-" this time he was cut off by her pressing her fingertips onto his lips. She kept them there.

"Lelouch," she brought her other hand to her own lips and silently shushed him. When she winked at him she tried to stifle the girlish giggle that threatened to spill out. "You mustn't berate yourself like this. I've forgiven you, but it seems you haven't forgiven yourself yet. I may have been a victim of circumstance, but what happens, happens. You must accept that... It's an order from Princess Euphemia li Britannia. Now will you uphold it?"

He stared at her for the longest time, just trying to grasp whatever it was that made her so unbelievable. She was forgiving him. Forgiving him, for forcing her to go against her entire nature and slaughter hundreds of innocent people. Superimposing the horrific name of Massacre Princess onto her. Shooting her in cold blood in some feeble attempt to correct his mistake.

He shut his eyes. She forgave him. Euphemia was wonderful. Absolutely. But that only made it more of a shame. That so few people would know exactly how amazing she was. Although, it was the same for him too, wasn't it? He didn't think of himself as "wonderful" or anything, but the person the majority of the world saw was not him. Very few people knew who he truly was. Sometimes, he doubted if he even knew it. But they were the same. In a very, very basic way.

"I will," he murmured, after a long silence. She pulled her hand away from his lips, and he heard her give a content sigh. Accomplished.

There was another silence, but it was brief, as Euphemia interrupted it. "Have you realized where we are yet?"

He blinked at her in surprise, then remembered his earlier question. "Not exactly."

She let her hands rest in her lap. Their previous conversation forgotten. "I would call it limbo, I suppose… But I'm sure you'll have a better word for it. It's where people show up after they pass, where they can choose to wait for their loved ones, or move on."

"Move on?" he repeated, the words sounding sinister somehow. In fact, everything she had just said sounded sinister and make-believe.

"You know, leave. Disappear. When I first arrived, I met Clovis. He was relaxing on a beach somewhere, just not ready. In a lot of ways, I'm not sure if this place even exists or not."

That sounded familiar… "C's World." he mumbled, really to himself, but he earned a strange look from Euphemia anyway. "It's like a separate plane of existence, I guess. Even I'm not too sure what it is exactly… In this world, we don't exist physically. There's nothing physical about it." She nodded, listening intently. "I suspect that 'moving on' is just joining the collective unconscious… Once that happens, you don't even exist in this realm. You don't exist at all."

"That explains it..." she said

"You're waiting for someone then?" he asked, already having a few ideas of who it might be.

"Of course, that's why I'm still here." Then she sighed. It was a mix of frustration and disappointment. "I want to tell Suzaku… to let go of all of his rage. It's unfortunate that I can't do that now, while it's still relevant, you know?" He nodded, because he understood what she meant completely.

She started to look around, as if she was expecting something, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing?"

That made her smile return to her face. "You didn't think I was the only one here, did you? There are others who wait. Its not just me."

A stern look came across his face. Pondering. But his thought process was quickly jolted by a voice coming from behind him. It was young, timid but hopeful. "Lulu?"

He practically jumped to his feet, and turned to face her. Guilt settled back into his chest. "Shirley."

She repeated his name to herself in some form of validation. The tears in her eyes contradicted the smile on her lips, and she rushed forward to embrace him. He actually responded to it. "It's been so long," she squeaked, "It feels like it's been so long."

"Shirley you waited… for me?" he breathed, exasperated. Then he noticed that he could no longer feel Euphemia's presence behind him. He was sure that if he turned around, he wouldn't even see her anymore.

"Of course I did." She answered, because according to her, their last conversation should be all the explanation he needed.

"But why?" He took a step back so he could look her in the face. He just couldn't understand it. "You shouldn't even be here. If it wasn't for me- no, if you had never gotten involved with me, you wouldn't be like this. That's why I ordered you to forget about me."

She held up her hand to silence him, knowing that if she didn't, he would just keep going on like that. "Even after you did that, I was still curious about you. I told you when I was dying, didn't I? It doesn't matter how many times I'm made to forget it. I would always end up falling in love with you."

Yes, he remembered. Of course he remembered that. "But I was Zero." he told her, trying to change her mind for some reason. "What about your father?"

Her face fell a little bit, but she wasn't melancholy. "Zero killed my father. Lulu, you killed my father- and I loved him. I thought I could never forgive Zero for that. No matter what he was trying to accomplish, I couldn't see why my father had to die for it too." She paused for a second, thinking he'd say something, but he never did. "But when I found out it was you I was so confused. Why would Lulu do something like that? But I couldn't hate you. I just couldn't. And then all of a sudden, Nunnally was the viceroy, and you were still fighting. You were fighting all by yourself, and I really couldn't hate you for that. I didn't understand it all until after Rolo killed me. Euphemia told me everything. And I knew why Nunnally was the viceroy, but you were still… you."

"Euphie told you…?"

"All this time," she interrupted him, and cupped his cheek with her hand, "I had no idea. You were a prince."

He wasn't listening to her entirely. "So you know everything? About Nunnally and I, and why we came to Japan?"

Now her face was melancholy. "I'm so sorry, Lulu… Now I know why I couldn't bring myself to hate you. I had to forgive you."

There was that word again. Forgiveness. He wasn't sure he deserved any of it.

Then another voice came from directly behind him, so close it made him jump. "You shouldn't brood, Lelouch." It was Euphemia again. She had reappeared at some point. Her voice sounded strange. Different somehow. "Tomorrow is coming."

Again, he raised an eyebrow at her. "What are you talking about?"

Shirley went to stand beside Euphemia, and watched him with an unwavering smile. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?" He couldn't shake the feeling that the mood had just shifted dramatically. He took a few steps backwards, away from them.

"You asked for tomorrow." Euphemia took slow steps towards him, while he continued to retreat.

"Are you ready?"

"Tomorrow is in jeopardy."

His head was spinning. Something wasn't right. It felt like he'd been there five minutes, but also five years. They were speaking in riddles. And then they stopped advancing, and he stopped as well, out of curiosity. But they just stared at him, smiling. Eerily silent.

Then Shirley shut her eyes. "It's time," she breathed, and disappeared into thin air. Right in front of him. But before he even had the chance to register it, Euphemia's voice came to him.

"Goodbye, Lelouch."

And she too was gone, and the bright light was fading. The ground fell out from beneath him and he plummeted down, into darkness.

xx

"Jeremiah, I'm afraid we have a dire situation on our hands." Nunnally's voice was quivering as she spoke. She was wringing her hands in her lap.

Jeremiah sat across from her in the meeting chamber, the same room everyone had tea in just two days earlier. "What is it Your Majesty?"

She never bothered to correct Jeremiah when he used such honoraries to address her- it was imbedded in his brain as a military man. "I believe Zero told you of some soldiers we'd found that were still under the influence of Geass, correct?" He nodded, and she gave a heavy sigh. "And you took care of them with your canceller… but during that time, you didn't happen to see Schneizel, did you?"

Jeremiah's face fell. "Yes, I did. Afterwards… but I had just assumed he'd entered the courtyard after the device was deactivated. He didn't seem to be acting strangely… You don't think that he…"

"Unfortunately, I do." she said, feeling the dread rising in her. If Schneizel's Geass command was cancelled, there's no telling what would happen. And everything her brother had created would be laid to waste.

"Have you informed Her Highness Cornelia? Or Zero?"

She shook her head. "No, I wanted to confirm my suspicions with you first, and now that my doubt is quickly diminishing… I feel I have no choice but to tell them."

Jeremiah set back in his chair. Her dread was rubbing off on him. "And what shall we do if his command has indeed been cancelled?"

"I don't know, Jeremiah. I just don't know." Tears began to fall from her eyes, and he was immediately at her side. She brought her hands to her face as her body racked with a single sob. She was scared. So very scared.

Jeremiah placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her knee. "It will be alright, Your Majesty. Whatever happens, you will have me and many others at your side."

"Oh, Jeremiah. I'm so frightened… I feel like I've… Like I've failed Lelouch." Nunnally turned her head to look at him, her tears still flowing. "If something happens, and Schneizel ruins everything… it will be my fault. I wasn't careful enough. Oh, brother, I'm so sorry. You sacrificed so much, but I…"

"Your Majesty… Nunnally…" Jeremiah spoke her name informally, and it sounded foreign to him- but it was enough to get her attention. "He would not blame you. You can't think for a moment that he would. He made this world for you. He could never be angry with you."

"Are you certain of that?" Her voice was scratchy. She was rubbing at her eyes as she spoke.

He nodded, smiling his gentlemanly smile. "Absolutely."

xx

The next time Lelouch opened his eyes he recognized the bland interior of the hotel room. He could hear the dull sounds of the television, and the strong scent of cheese and garlic wafting through the air. A horrendous headache was throbbing in his skull like a drum. He groaned and slowly set himself upright. Leaned his back against the headboard of the bed he'd been lying on.

"What was that?" C.C. asked, her voice void of any emotion as always. She was sitting in a chair and watching the television with a slice of pizza in her mouth. Her arms were wrapped around the bright yellow plush doll known as Cheese-Kun. "You've been unconscious for a few hours."

"I'm not sure…" he muttered, the effort to speak only worsening his headache. "I think it was a memory. Of what happened while I was gone."

"Dead, you mean?" Her words held an edge to them. He could sense there was still something she wasn't telling him, but he didn't bother with it.

"Yes," he retorted, but it wasn't harsh at all. "During that time, I was in C's World."

"Did you figure out the reason you've returned?" She was apathetic once again. The edge was gone.

"Not exactly," he let his gaze drift over to the window, which showed the city now blanketed in darkness. "Euphie and Shirley, they kept talking about tomorrow- saying that it's what I wanted."

"That's what you told the collective unconscious. When you killed Charles and Marianne." she spoke matter-of-factly, and he redirected his attention to her. "Charles wanted the past. Schneizel the present. And you wanted the future."

"Yes, I remember, but they said it was in jeopardy."

C.C. only shrugged. "I can't speak for that." There was a pause. A moment of evaluation for the both of them. For a second, Lelouch thought that she'd simply returned to watching television, but she suddenly spoke again. Hesitation danced on the fringe of her voice. "Has your Geass returned?"

His Geass. Of course. That was the entire reason he'd experienced the flashback in the first place. He ignored his headache and marched over to the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror perched above it.

His eyes looked the same. When he died, his Geass had reached the highest level of manifestation: It was permanently active in both of his eyes. But there was nothing there now.

The smallest hint of worry passed over him. What if he could never get it back? That would be it. His greatest weapon- gone. He would be powerless. How was he supposed to accomplish anything without it?

He closed his eyes, trying to recall what it was like when he'd first received the power. It wasn't exactly a conscious effort to activate it, but it wasn't entirely subconscious either. It just worked when he needed it to. When he wanted to be heard. He searched deep inside himself and brought out that compulsion. That desire for power where he felt he had none. The scarcely noticeable hysteria he felt inside when something was out of his control.

When he opened his eyes again the right one was normal, but the iris of his left eye had turned a bright, fluctuating red. The familiar symbol of Geass rested in the center. Like that of a phoenix rising from its ashes. His headache was gone.

He smirked at his reflection. Things had just gotten a lot easier.

xx

Author's Notes- Truthfully, I'm not that confident in this chapter... Maybe some of you can help me see what's wrong with it?

I'm reaching the end of the pre-written chapters...

-Destiny