Eternal Geass Moon: The Garden of Sinners
Disclaimer: In this particular universe, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the Code Geass, Tsukihime, Kara no Kyoukai, any other elements of the Nasuverse, or any other modern works that I may reference in this story.
In the legends of nearly every civilization, there have been references to mysterious cultures on long vanished continents, of peoples that lived during a golden age, when the earth brought forth its bounty without the manifold labors of man, when dreams shaped reality, when all that man required could be brought forth by will alone—a time forever lost when a cataclysm born of hubris and war sank a legendary land, wiping out much of humanity in the process, with the scattered remnants forced to rebuild from what was essentially the Stone Age.
As the ages passed, the practitioners of these arcane arts faded into the shadows as technology kept on its inexorable advance, eliminating the need for mages for the most part. Still, magic and those who use it continue to exist today, and rumors linger of a strange lineage of magi isolated from the flow of time, carrying within their Codes (akin to Thaumaturgical Crests) powerful magic from a bygone age – a lineage of magi known as Witches.
" " denotes speech
'italics'denotes thought
'bold' denotes location names
'bold italics' denotes skill use
Ashford Academy
By the time Lelouch returned from his rather draining excursion into the Settlement, taking care to walk Shirley back to her dorm room before returning to his own residence (just as a gentleman was supposed to, since he didn't want to give Milly anything else to rib him about), the sun had already set, with heavy moisture laden clouds filling the sky, and the Ashford Academy bathed in the eerie remnants of shadowed twilight. Yet for some reason, as the exile made his way through the through the deserted grounds of Ashford Academy, moving slowly in the chill night air, his thoughts were…elsewhere.
'That girl surrounded by cats…who was she?' the Black Prince mused silently, unable to shake the feeling that she was familiar to him on some level, yet frustrated as he was unable to place the where or why of it. 'But if she is known to me, where have I seen her…and when? Looking through my memories, I've never met that girl in my life…'
But the outcast prince merely shook his head, clearing the irrelevant from his mind to focus on what was truly important at the moment: the elimination of the false Zero, for the sake of his own ambitions.
'Unless I kill him, I will not be able to actualize my plan to destroy Britannia,' the magus thought to himself, lips pressed together in a thin line as he thought of how little public support he would be able to get, now that the Knight of Ten and this false Zero had intervened, as if everything was but a play, an act on this hologram summer. 'In this competition of illusions and images, whoever creates the most accepted illusion is the winner…'
A world of lies, where the greatest lie became the truth. But then, wasn't that the history of humanity, where people lied in order to survive? Lies were essential to progress, to every human life…for what were dreams, hopes, aspirations but lies, delusions about what one would accomplish in the future based on nothing tangible?
'Of course, my doppelganger likely knows this, adopting this appearance and targeting civilians in order to force me to confront him, as probability dictates that he is likely a magus killer specializing in illusions. Could he really be a Britannian working together with the Knight of Ten? The Empire is certainly ruthless enough to employ such a tactic, and Bradley does not care if his allies are sacrificed…'
And if the killer, on top of being a magus, was a powerful Dead Apostle as Milly suspected, given that the victims had had their blood drained, then…
'…In that case, confronting my adversary may well prove fatal, even with the help of Kallen…or perhaps even Mana,' the outcast prince thought to himself. 'Still…I am prepared for what outcome awaits, for until the moment I learned of magic, I was dead—an impotent corpse existing doomed to wander in an empty dream. And now that I have awakened, if I am unwilling to fight, then…'
…it would be as if he was giving up, resigning himself to death—and that was anathema to his nature as one who always played to win, consequences be damned. Whatever else one could say about Lelouch vi Britannia, he would never simply accept defeat—especially when an opponent was someone who wished to play him for a fool. Once, long ago, his father had done that to him, exiling him from the Empire and sending him to Japan as a political hostage—right before the Britannian Army invaded, essentially condemning the young prince to death.
But out of sheer venomous hate and a desire for vengeance, Lelouch had survived, clawing through countless fields filled with dead and dying people, staggering through bloodsoaked battlefields, stealing, hurting, doing what he had to go on living. And why did he want to live? Because of a need to destroy the world that had wronged him, to utterly obliterate Britannia and create something new in its place.
And now that someone else wished to slander his alter ego's name, there was only one thing to do. Would he allow someone to destroy his name, effectively killing his chances of victory? No. Kill before one was killed, destroy before one was destroyed—in the end, he would do what he must to live.
'I…will kill the false Zero,' the exile thought, eyes sharp with suppressed rage as a dark laugh issued from somewhere deep inside his core, a maniacal sound that reverberated through the empty courtyard of Ashford Academy. 'No matter the cost…he must be destroyed!'
Rumble—crash!
As if the heavens themselves wished to express their agreement, a vivid flash of lightning lit up the ground below, casting jagged shadows across the campus as distant thunder rolled ominously in the sky above, making the slender figure of Lelouch Lamperouge appear a black-stained silhouette in the twilight.
'That's right…from the beginning, there was already blood on my hands, ever since I resolved to do evil to destroy a greater evil,' the magus mused, though the chessmaster's train of thought trailed off as he swallowed, discovering that his body was unconsciously shivering, his left hand clenching and unclenching reflexively. Whether in anger, in fear, or in sorrow, he did not know—only that no matter which it was, he was not afraid, for it was the violent passions that burned within his soul (with enough power to reduce a knightmare to its component atoms) that drove him to become stronger, to surpass his limits. 'And is a battle which I cannot run away from…for I am Zero…the man who will one day hold the fate of the world in the palm of my hand…'
Granted, his first and foremost means of accomplishing this was through the strategy and Xanatos speed chess at which he so excelled, organizing others to do his will…but (there was always a 'but') there were times that even he had to take to the field.
"For if the king doesn't lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?" the raven-haired prince muttered under his breath, thinking of how he had first attained his power, being saved from death by a strange Witch and her mysterious assassin.
Of course, this was utterly disregarded how in an actual chess game, moving the king for no other reason than to do so usually resulted in a loss, unless one just baffled and unnerved the opponent badly, but then Lelouch didn't play chess. He played people, manipulating them, unnerving them, watching them dance like puppets to his tune. A chess game was a match of wits and nerves as much as anything else, after all, and so, if he could disrupt his opponent's thought processes through useful intimidation tactics, he would effectively control the game itself, not just the pieces of his color.
'The Witch provided a practical enough example of that, though I still don't know much about her at all, besides that she is a powerful magus. Or about Mana, really, except that…' The exile hesitated for a moment, wondering how to state his thoughts. 'She's…incredibly good at killing…'
Come to think of it, there was much he did not know about this world of magecraft and those within it—even those he had known in one capacity or another for a long time, like Milly, but slowly but surely, he would learn, and with his power and his ostensible allies, destroy those who stood in his way.
'But first…before things can go any further, the one who dares to claim my identity must be crushed.'
Rumble—crash!
A flash of lightning lit up the sky once more, followed by the crash of thunder, and reflexively, Lelouch's hands clutched his jacket tighter about his slim shoulders, lips twisting into a grimace as—
Pitter-patter pitter-patter!
—the heavens opened and torrents of water hurtled down from above, forcing the exile to break into a rather ungainly run towards his residence, wishing (not for the first time) that he had attended more PE classes (though this desire only overcame him during combat training sessions with Milly or in situations such as this, where some physical ability would actually be useful).
Thus, when Lelouch finally returned to his apartment after a thought provoking day, he resembled nothing so much as a drenched, bedraggled cat, clothes soaking wet, hair matted to his head as he staggered through the door, sighing with relief as the heated air of his apartment washed over him. Truly, there was nothing more wonderful than—
"My my, look at what the cat dragged in," a very familiar voice purred from the direction of his dining table. "Did you enjoy your date with Shirley that much? Or are you so very wet because you're happy to see me, Lulu?"
'Please tell me it's not who I think it is,' Lelouch groaned in his mind, not even bothering to look up as his prodigious intellect sorted through a number of other increasingly unlikely possibilities. 'Of course, given the short list of people who tend to visit me these days, and their speech patterns—the magus of Ashford is the only one with such a dirty mind. Ergo…'
These factors narrowed it down to one suspect—
"Milly, what a…pleasant surprise," the exile acknowledged dryly, though his voice had more than a bit of irritation to it. While he usually took the effort to put out a friendlier front, that was more or less to those who didn't know of his true identity—and those who wished to keep ignorant of the darkness simmering inside him. Of course, since Milly was not in either of those "privileged" groups, knowing him a little too well—a little honesty was in order. "Are you ready for tonight's opera—"
He voice trailed off, seemingly caught in his throat for a moment as he looked up to see the rather curvaceous blonde as he had never seen her before, with the Ashford heir dressed in an elaborate taffeta ballgown consisting of a white bodice edged in gold draped over a flared blue underskirt—an ensemble that made her look rather regal.
'If I'm not mistaken, she is also wearing hair extensions, as her normally shoulder-length hair now flows untrammeled over shapely bare shoulders down to the small of her back—and her…'
"Naturally, I've been ready for some time now," the Ashford magus replied wryly, giving the exiled prince a mock curtsey and a side-long glance with red-tinted eyes that were quite different from her usually steely blue gaze. "Besides, isn't it the woman who's supposed to keep the man waiting, not the other way around?"
"Touché…though we all know whose fault it was that I was out today," Lelouch shot back, the deferential gesture of his hand not at all matching the rest of his posture. "I didn't expect you to clean up so nicely—ow!"
Thwack!
Proving that Milly was nothing if not consistent in her response to stupidity, the prince was met with a soft knife-hand chop to the head that sent him reeling.
"You'd think you would have gotten use to a bump on the head or two after our long sessions," Milly commented, shooting a mock glare at her fellow magus as she straightened. "And yes, the fault is obviously yours, since we all know what the target looks like—and who was out having fun today?"
The exile didn't bother to correct her, given that she had a point—and frankly, that he was at fault for his tardiness was a minor concession to make, given that the Ashford magus had agreed to lend her considerable talents to his plan.
"You didn't want to come yourself, as I recall…something about drawing too much attention to yourself?" the outcast prince huffed, brushing past the blonde as he stepped into his room and closed the door, where began to strip off his outer layers, wipe himself off, and change into something less soaked. "Which is why you wanted to play matchmaker again…"
That last bit was muttered under his breath so that Milly would be unable to hear.
"I assume that you at least located an area near the Britannian Victory Memorial Center for the operation?" the blonde asked, pacing down the hallway and leaning against the door to the exile's room. "Somewhere where we can deploy the barrier stones and make most effective use of the…decoy?"
"Indeed… based on what I have learned of patrol schedules, as well as the killer's usual preferences for killing locations, the park that lies between the Center and Omotesandō Mall would be ideal," Lelouch's muffled voice replied as a series of thumps, scrapes, and bangs from inside the room marked the boy's progress in changing into something more inconspicuous than his civilian garb. "Out of the way, mostly deserted at night, not usually patrolled…and a place where one could easily stumble into while 'drunk.'"
Click!
With that, the door opened, revealing a now drier Lamperouge magus dressed in the charcoal-grey outerwear and trousers of a Britannian foot soldier (sans armor), holding a silver briefcase and a white envelope in his hand.
"Good…I see that you're prepared," Milly noted, giving the exile a once over. And if her eyes lingered just a bit longer than they should have—well, no one would comment. "Your equipment is in the case, I take it? Firearms and staff?"
"Indeed," Lelouch replied, returning the look and raising a puzzled eyebrow as he saw no obvious places where Milly could hide her weapons. "And yours?"
In response, Milly hiked up her skirt, revealing (in addition to toned, shapely legs) the presence of two thigh holsters, one of which held her collapsible staff, while the other held a ritual dagger and – a pouch of some sort?
"As always, I am prepared, with my standard equipment and a set of gems, each containing at least a year's worth of magical energy," the blonde commented, retrieving a strange object from one of her sleeves—something that seemed like a child's toy wand, almost garishly red with a gold star and wings attached at one end—and handing it to the exile. "Here's something else for you, by the way—"
"Eh? What's this?" Lelouch asked, taking the wand and blinking as he tried to make heads or tails of the object, as he doubted that a genuine magical artifact would be so…garish. "And how am I supposed to use this, exactly? Perhaps by—"
"Don't," Milly said in warning, eyeing the device strangely. "To use it, you would charge it with mana by opening your circuits, but don't, unless it is absolutely necessary. To paraphrase C.C., this is a deadly weapon of last resort, an artifact of great power that…"
"…this?" Lelouch replied with a deadpan look, understandably skeptical.
"I know it doesn't look like it," the Ashford magus answered with a sigh. "Then again, considering that she gave it to me to pass along to you…"
She trailed off meaningfully, as if this should be obvious.
"…well, she does have a strange sense of humor," Lelouch allowed with a slow nod, remembering all too well the quirks of the Witch. "And while she doesn't like revealing much about herself, what she has said has been accurate so far."
Shaking his head, the exile put away the magical artifact, deciding to ask the Witch exactly what it did when he next saw her—which should just be in a few minutes. And with that…
"So Lulu, what's in the envelope?" the Ashford magus inquired, in a teasing voice. "Such pretty handwriting on the front—and it's from Mana. Perhaps it's a love letter?"
Refusing to rise to the barb, Lelouch merely opened it, extracting the paper within to find a single line written…
"Be careful tonight, Lamperouge. A terrible premonition can bring forth a terrible reality."
C.C.'s Atelier, Lower Levels, Ashford Academy
Deep within the bowels of the earth, in the artificial cavern ringed by waterfalls and runes currently being used as the atelier of the First Magician, two figures were whirling and leaping about, lashing out with fierce blows as they attempted to connect with the other—or at least Kallen was doing so, her forehead slick with sweat from her exertions as she tried to find a way to approach and strike the Grey Witch.
Whirr! Swish!
A task that was proving more difficult than it seemed, as C.C. was standing on the other side of the cavern, sending hawk puppets made of silver wire streaking towards Kallen again and again with subtle gestures of her hands, smirking all the while.
"Mana seems to think well of you, but your movements are too rough, girl," the immortal commented dryly, even as she sent numerous wireframe birds towards the redhead from all angles, instant puppets crisscrossing the distance between her and the fiery part-time terrorist as—
Whoosh! Whoosh!
—blazing fists sped through the air to deflect the incoming projectiles as Kallen sprinted forward, dodging, striking, parrying in a play of light and heat.
It was C.C.'s belief, much like Mana's, that the best teacher of combat was experience, and so the Grey Witch, not really having anything better to do, had decided to help Kallen with hers—for a given value of help anyway.
Fsh!
—the redhead sidestepped hastily as something came at her from behind, with three streaks of light savaging her from all sides, forcing to break off her attack.
Whirr!
Another massive salvo of wireform missiles, some approaching straight on, some curving, some from above, some from the sides, some from behind—
Whump! Flash!
—avoided by diving in to a roll and recovering forward, arching back to her full height despite the protest in her knees and spun spinning about to deliver a backhand blow and a vicious palm thrust to the incoming projectiles, knocking them away with the intensity of her materialized anger, clearing a path ahead of her as she burst forward towards the Witch, trying to break through the—
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Boom!
—merciless swarms of incoming projectiles to reach the caster, parrying, whirling, burning the attacks from the air with her fists as she advanced, crashes and flashes of light and heat punctuating her approach.
"How…" Whomp! "…the hell…" Whomp! "…is this…" Whomp! "…just…" Whomp! "…training?" the redhead forced out, breathing hard as she continually—
Boom! Oomph!
—one of the wireframe puppets detonated in mid-air, the shockwave sending Kallen sprawling to the floor, where—
Slide! Blam!
—a veil of smoke covered the ground, as tracers of silver light streaked down at her position and detonated, buffeting Kallen's prone form.
For her part, the redhead barely managed to turn face up and flare her flame magic in time to guarding herself from a second rain of deadly silver tracers headed for the unprotected back of her head, white hot flames erupting from her hands vaporizing the projectiles through pure strength of will as she staggered to her feet, eyes blazing.
"Are you trying to kill me?" snarled the part-time terrorist, a haze of fury beginning to awaken inside of her in the wake of this latest round of indignities that C.C. had dubbed "training."
In response, the Witch only chuckled.
"Trying? No," the green-haired Sorceress replied easily, lips curling into a small smirk as she regarded the panting redhead with impassive amber eyes. "If I was trying, Kallen Kozuki, you'd already be dead, given your very limited abilities. So, tell me, do you intend to continue this exercise in futility?"
"Limited?" Kallen repeated incredulously, feeling a surge of molten fury erupting inside her core at the Grey Witch's words. "Limited? You…have no idea what this badass mother can do!"
For a moment, an ever-so-brief moment, the half-Britannian was perfectly still—and then she exploded into a blur of motion as magical energy flooded through her body, acting in tandem with the adrenalin pouring through every nerve, every blood vessel in her body as anger took over, as she charged towards C.C. with the speed of a meteor, her feet almost seeming to glide over the metal floor as—
Whoosh!
"Huh?"
—her flame wrapped fists pummeled a whole lot of nothing, hitting only air as—
Whirr! Crash!
—a volley ofthe wireframe birds slammed into her from behind, knocking the redhead slightly off balance, harrying her from all sides, even as the immortal's smooth drawl continued.
"No idea? Is that so?" C.C. intoned, traces of amusement and contempt mingling in her rich, velvety voice. "On the contrary, my dear terrorist, I think that I've come to assess your abilities quite well…and they are rather…limited. So a moe character you are, really…"
Kallen barely had time to groan as she parsed the multiple meanings of "moe", before her speed redoubled, her trail marked by a carbon scoring on the metal ground as she charged, intending to immolate the Grey Witch (or at least wipe the damned smirk off her face), the aura of white-hot flames wreathing her form searing away any puppet that made contact, as she attacked with a flurry of blows, closing the 10 meter gap between them with only two paces.
"Grit those teeth, witch, because this blow from the strongest is going to hurt," the redhead snarled growled as she struck, launching one-two-three blows towards the Witch—a punch for the forehead, an elbow for the gut, a backhand to the chin, but all were avoided by subtle motions, as—
Thwack!
—the sound of flesh on flesh resounded, as a fourth attack made contact, a point blank jumpkick of molten fire from redhead lashing up and then down at the Witch's, a brutal blow of smashing force that required even C.C. to actually block the attack and counter with a reinforced palm thrust—and elbow—
Guh!
—to the gut, sending Kallen stumbling to the ground once more, feet making contact with the floor just in time to—
Swish!
—be swept out from under her, knocking the trainee squarely and painfully on her ass, a position from which she looked incredulously up at the mostly unharmed figure of the Sorceress in White, with the immortal flexing her hands, her expression more neutral as she made the universal gesture for "come at me."
'What the…she didn't burn?! Even though I focused my killing intent to such an extent?'
"Not bad for an amateur…," C.C. commented, with eyes intent on the fallen magus now that Kallen had finally managed to injure her during practice, however slightly. "You managed to burn my hands in spite of the resistance afforded by my activated magic circuits, something you have been unable to do since our first encounter."
Seeing that the First Magician was (for once) not making any move to take advantage of her current state, the part-time terrorist slowly rose to her feet, settling into a defensive stance as she regarded the immortal warily, her aura of flames subsiding slightly as she marshaled the urge to rush in once more.
"Meh…doesn't seem like much of an achievement," Kallen panted, gritting her teeth, though she knew well that in her winded and slightly drained state, slightly injuring the Witch was an accomplishment in itself, what with the magical missile massacre the sorceress had launched. "Especially not after burning a group of ghouls…"
Not as satisfying either, given that the smirk hadn't been fully wiped from C.C.'s face, although the magician had been forced to defend—which was new.
"Hmm…I will admit you have potential as a fighter, but you still have a long way to go as an magus, Kozuki," C.C. spoke after a moment, lowering her guard on seeing that the half-Britannian had not chosen to attack again. "I won't tell you to shed your anger, since your burning passion is what fuels your magecraft, but use it. Call upon it, draw from it, let it empower you—but don't let it control you. Not every opponent is as vulnerable as an undead ghoul, after all."
With that, the Grey Witch turned upon her heel to leave, moving past Kozuki towards the entryway.
"…at least ghouls don't try to irritate me on purpose…" Kallen muttered under her breath, but apparently not soft enough to get past an immortal's ears, as the redhead learned to her dismay when C.C. turned to look at the part-time terrorist with those disturbing amber eyes of hers.
"If you do not care for my training methods, I'm sure Mana would be all too happy to accommodate you," the Sorceress in White said in response. "One always learns in difficult situations, and well…she could use the bait…"
Gulp!
Kallen involuntarily swallowed at the memory of her "training session" with Mana, which had been quite literally a life or death affair, forcing her to awaken her power to its fullest extent. Given a choice between that and a Witch that seemingly enjoyed annoying her…the Witch was probably the lesser of the two evils—
'Heh…'
—even if the green-haired Witch was infuriating, underhanded, and downright manipulative at times—possibly even more so than Lelouch, though the fullness of this remained to be seen.
"On second thought, that won't be necessary," Kallen said after a moment, managing to shoot a defiant glare at the Witch while suppressing any hint of fear or horror. "One of these days, I will wipe that smirk off your face."
"Is that so?" C.C. murmured, not quite believing it. "We shall see, K.K, we shall see. Now come along, L.L. and a mutual friend should be waiting in the conference room with details about your mission tonight."
With that, the Witch walked out of the cavern, with a frazzled redhead following but a moment later.
Conference Room, Lower Levels, Ashford Academy
Despite her rather rash and impulsive nature, Kallen Kozuki liked to think of herself as a fairly intelligent young woman. And in most aspects, she'd be correct, as she was an honors student with the top scores in her class (despite being in class the least of any student), as well as a consummate actress in her daily life, picking up social cues and combat techniques with relative ease. All in all, it was easy to see why she would be seen as the Lamperouge scion's Q-1…although, like him, she tended to overlook certain rather obvious possibilities.
…which led immediately to a situation such as the one now, with the redhead's jaw hanging open as she froze in the doorway to the conference room, eyes fixed on the blonde individual standing next to Lelouch, leaning over what seemed to be a tactical map of the Tokyo Settlement.
'Is that…'
When C.C. had said mutual friend, Kallen had immediately thought of the raven-haired Satsujinki, the avatar of death, but—
"Now now, Kallen," the Ashford magus chided, looking over the half-Britannian's slick, sweat covered form, and nodding appreciatively at how her clothes were sticking to her skin. "I'm flattered of course, but if you don't stop staring at me like that, I'm going to start to wonder whether you like girls. That said, I think that Shirley has a challenger for the Student Council's perfect ten."
On cue, the redhead forced her mouth shut with an audible click, blinking a few times to make sure she was not hallucinating.
"M-m-madam Prez?!" the part time terrorist managed disbelievingly, eyes narrowing as she stepped back reflexively. "You're a—"
"—magus, yes, just like you," the blonde confirmed with a slight nod, corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly into a smile. "To be specific, the magus of Ashford...or did you really think an elaborate underground complex for hiding and supporting magi would exist at Ashford Academy without my family's knowledge?"
"Enough. You've made your point, Milly," Lelouch broke in wryly. "Besides, you play enough mind games with the Student Council during normal hours as it is…and we do have a mission to attend to."
The blonde merely raised an eyebrow at the mention of mindgames from Lelouch of all people, but deferred just this once.
"You have a point, Lulu," the Ashford heir conceded, eyes snapping up and over towards the immortal standing behind Kallen. "I take it Mana will not be joining us tonight?"
Slightly disappointing, given that the Satsujinki (with her Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and related skills) was probably the highest level combatant of the student group, with each of the trio having witnessed her terrifying skills firsthand.
"Indeed. She left before dark, with the purpose of hunting the Dead Apostle in Area 11," C.C. replied matter-of-factly, as the Sorceress entered the room, leaning herself against the wall. "To her view, the false Zero and the Apostle are two different entities, given that one generally sees either the Dead or their master, not both operating at once. Given that, and the fact that several powerful magi are in this room, you should be more than enough to eliminate this threat. Especially given your family's distant relation to the Barthomeloi lineage…"
Milly frowned, wondering how the Witch had known that little detail, but didn't bother to ask, knowing that she wouldn't receive an answer.
'Yet another mystery to deal with…'
"True, unless there are two Dead Apostles in the city," the blonde allowed, frowning in distaste. "Though that would be a rather unusual turn of events, unless they were commanded by a higher power—on that note, do you have anything to share, C.C.?"
"Not at the moment," the immortal replied, not seeing the need to disclose more than she needed to. Revealing details such as the fact that her adversary was an immortal who wielded one of the True Magics would only lead to unneeded fear and panic at this point. "Simply take Mana's absence as a vote of confidence, that she believes herself unnecessary at this meeting."
While Lelouch would normally have agreed, the words of the Satsujinki's note to him hinted that the danger might be more than the Witch had let on. Or perhaps it was a clue to prevent him from running into danger? Who knew?
"Very well then, C.C.," Lelouch allowed, realizing that there was no point in arguing with a fait accompli. "In that case, let us begin."
There was soft chuckle from the sidelines, as C.C. looked on with amusement, gesturing for Lelouch to get on with it, giving the redhead the sneaking suspicion that she was not going to enjoy her role in the operation—again. She did hope she would get to burn something though…
"Alright, what's your plan, Lelouch?" Kallen asked as she walked over to the tactical map, her attention immediately drawn to a point marked as the Britannian Victory Memorial Center. "Are we laying an ambush? Or—"
"Based on the current and the attendant variables," the exile stated, "I have calculated Old Tokyo Tower as the place as the false Zero's most likely point of appearance, most likely in conjunction with the gala event being held at the Center tonight, open to the nobility. Which is where you and Milly come in…"
From her position against the wall, C.C. pressed a button, causing a light to shine down on a mannequin that had until now rested in the shadows, clad in a ballgown of vivid red and white with golden tracings, a formal affair of ruffles, fingerless elbow gloves, and leggings to accentuate her legs.
Turning at the sudden change in illumination, Kallen caught sight of the dress and stopped cold, slowly shaking her head.
"As you suspect, the two of us will be infiltrating the gala," Milly broke in, causing the part-time terrorist to finally take better notice of the ornate ensemble the blonde was wearing. "Lelouch, on the other hand, will be blending in with the soldiers patrolling the area outside, placing runestones at certain key locations to set up a bounded field."
"…you want me to attend a ball, wearing something as…indecent as that?" Kallen asked skeptically, glancing at Milly again. "Are you sure that you aren't just looking for an excuse to get me into…that outfit?"
Given that the dress did seem calculated to emphasize the bust and the legs, one might be justified in assuming that it was one of the blonde's signature creations. However—
"—in this case, you are mistaken, Kallen Kozuki," C.C. commented, her expression looking irritatingly like that of a fox after a successful raid on a chicken coop. "That dress, as well as the one worn by the Ashford magus, is one of my creations—a powerful mystic code resistant to all forms of thaumaturgy. In other words, less risk of…burning your clothes off should you use the flame body technique, among other things."
"…so why does it look like a derivative of something like what a magical girl would wear?" Kallen sputtered, vocalizing her main objection to the attire. "And it reveals so much…"
"I don't see why you're objecting," C.C. shrugged, eying Kallen's current outfit—the skintight tubelike garment that she wore for resistance activities. "It's substantially less revealing than your current battle uniform. However, if you would prefer to wear a bunny suit and infiltrate as a server, I have one of those available as well. The choice is yours."
Given those two alternatives, the redhead's choice was clear, no matter how much she disliked the concept of wearing frilly dresses. As for the point about being less revealing than her current battle uniform, that was…different. Wasn't it?
Ahem!
A not so quiet cough from Lelouch Lamperouge drew the attention of those in the room back to him.
"No bunny suit," the exile said firmly, fighting the urge to cradle his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Even if the gala is a masquerade ball, we want subtlety…and a guest would arouse less suspicion when moving around than a servant."
"Subtlety?" C.C. inquired sardonically, blinking once. "And this from the man who literally jumped at the opportunity to act the part of a large ham? Heh, maybe it runs in the family…"
Lelouch started to voice an objection (most specifically to the last comment), but quickly thought better of it, settling for a dissatisfied grunt.
"Whatever else I am, I am not a fool," the outcast prince asserted. "And considering that that fake Zero is out there ruining my reputation, and given the marital law situation…some subtlety would be advisable."
The Grey Witch thankfully had the tact to stay quiet and watch.
"If that is all, then you'd best get ready, since the gala is in a couple of hours, Kallen," Milly finished, eyeing the redhead once more. "I do so look forward to working closely with you."
Not for the first time, Kallen wondered to herself just what the hell she had gotten herself into.
Saitama Ghetto
While the others were discussing the mission plan for the night's operation, the shadow-cloaked form of Mana Ryougi was slinking through torrential rain with knife in hand, continuing to deal with the infestation of undead ghouls in the ghettos, in an attempt to lure the Dead Apostle in the area out of hiding. And like everyone else this fateful evening, the Satsujinki was not wearing her usual attire, instead clad in the dark vestments associated with the Euro Universe's Burial Agency – a secret organization made up of merciless assassins willing to do whatever it took to eliminate demonic abominations from existence.
'Abominations such as vampires…'
While it wasn't her usual outfit, she supposed it would do, as it provided notably better mobility than her usual blouse and skirt combination. Which was a plus, considering that the reason that C.C. had chosen this particular outfit was not for practicality in combat (since the immortal knew that the Satsujinki would perform well, regardless of outfit), but for misdirection. Considering that what Mana was doing (eliminating the Dead and hunting a possible Dead Apostle), fit in perfectly with the mission profile of a Burier (and that Executors of the Burial Agency often came into conflict with Magus Killers), it would be easy enough to convince any onlookers that she was a Burier.
If this information got back to Britannia, V.V. would not be happy to learn of what would undoubtedly be perceived as the unwanted interference of the Euro Universe in Britannian affairs, quite possibly leading to a third front being opened in the global conflict, diverting resources and attention from Area 11 and the Middle Eastern Federation.
'And if a little misdirection hurts Britannia, so much the better…'
Mana's lips drew back into a chill smile as she stilled, gripping her knife tightly as something nagged at the edge of her perception, the shuffle-splashing of footsteps through water and the "Hyuu! Hyuu!" of parched throats betraying the presence of a horde of ghouls lying in wait.
'…not rushing at me headlong? Interesting…the Dead Apostle must be in the area. In that case…let's draw him out.'
In utter silence, the young woman blinked, her eyes suddenly glowing with an eerie blue light as the lines of death became accessible to her once more, allowing her to track the positions of her enemies even in this gloom, as they were naught but masses of black lines and scribbles packed like clotting blood.
Clip-clip-clip!
Her boot-clad feet stalked through the night with miniscule sounds that barely qualified as footsteps, deliberate to a fault, with each twitch, minor as it was, seemingly premeditated and planned in advance, with the end result an inexorable advance that was relentless, intense, and promised oblivion to anything in her way—a beautiful grim reaper, with ominous blue eyes and black hair flowing like water.
Squelch! Fsh! Slash!
And then Mana exploded into motion, her lithe figure surging through the rain as the sounds of combat filled the air, with the Ryougi drawing a second knife as she lunged forward, killing the distance between herself and her opponents.
Slice!
A thump, as a limb was severed, then two more as a body was bisected. The dark-haired woman dashed low, under the swing of a ghoul's arm, then sprung up, cutting another in two as the Satsujinki flew through the space the creature had occupied, the mangled blood and viscera crumbling to mere ash in the wake of her passing, the black and grey flutters of her garments almost disturbingly hypnotic.
"Hy—"
She turned briefly, her knives tracing the lines of death, as an innumerable swarm of ghouls came at her from all sides, waves upon waves of corpses that she knew were more than she had encountered in any ghetto until now. Still, the Dead Apostle was somewhere nearby, and unless she eliminated—
Crack! Crack!
—a heavy bullet tore through the space that her head had occupied a moment ago, with a second hissing past her torso.
'The Dead Apostle…!'
Whirling to meet this new threat, the Satsujinki caught sight of a black blur, as a slim figure bounded out into view and then vanished with inhuman speed, leaving tracers of light and fire in its wake, deadly bullets streaking toward—
Slice!
—but these projectiles were avoided, as Mana killed the distance required to get her out of the way, leaving a shadowy figure scowling in the distance, twin pistols in hand. This was the Dead Apostle Rolo Haliburton, who at first glance seemed an innocent, carefree boy—before he put a bullet through one's brain.
'Inhuman reflexes and no magical energy sensed,' thought diminutive Dead Apostle Rolo Haliburton, slightly irked that his first assault had failed. 'Not a magus then—judging by garments and lethal efficiency against my ghouls, my enemy is a Burier armed with a conceptual weapon.'
The vampire continued to observe as the Satsujinki brutally yet elegantly tore through his undead familiars as if through soaked tissue, her knives tracing silver arcs of motion as they plunged into flesh, were ripped from flesh, or simply sliced the air itself in a whirling dervish of dismemberment and destruction, actualizing inescapable inevitability with inhuman calm.
'In that case, I may as well go all out. Even if you are skilled, in the end, you are…only human. Innate Time Control – Triple Accelerando!'
Accelerating the temporal field around his body so that the world around him flowed by like molasses, Rolo sprang, time altering magecraft enhancing already inhumanly strong reflexes and speed as his body streaked towards the otherwise occupied Burier. With this, he thought, he should be able to close in with a step and shoot his enemy in the chest before she even noticed.
Crack! Whirr!
A last second evasion took Mana out of the path of the bullet as she spun low, ominous blue eyes fixing on her opponent.
Slice!
One slash and one step and the distance between the two was eliminated, with Mana bringing both knives around to—
Clink! BLAM!
Two sounds rang out at once: the sound of a knife blade kissing the steel barrel of one of Rolo's pistols, and the muffled thunder of a gunshot, as an Origin bullet slammed into Mana's right shoulder at point-blank range, imposing the concepts "severing" and "binding" onto her arm, with her assailant disappearing from her sight once more.
Thunk! Clatter!
A heartbeat later, one of Rolo's weapons fell apart in his hand, and a knife clattered from a now limp hand, with Mana looking incredulously down to find that her arm would not move, having been reduced to dead weight.
For "severing and binding" were not exactly the same as "destroying and reviving", because the former lacked any form of regeneration. To use a metaphor, it would be like cutting a string then reconnecting it by tying a knot…causing unavoidable deterioration and corruption. And against a living being, it would cause unavoidable and immediate necrosis, "killing" all the nerves and blood vessels of the affected part.
Still, she had one more—
Slash!
Catching a glimpse of a flicker of motion, Mana gritted her teeth and lunged for the opponent's point of death, a near-instant—
Squelch!
Another blur, as the vampire razor-sharp claw pierced her wrist and twisted, wrenching the other knife from the Satsujinki's grasp—though not before she severed the vampire's other weapon arm at the elbow.
Clatter! Thud!
The moment she dropped her knife, a claw was slammed through her gut, with a devastating kick knocking the Satsujinki to the ground facedown, where her prone form was left unmolested for a few heartbeats, the fresh red of arterial blood mingling with rainwater as torrential precipitation came down.
But not for long, as there was a shuffle of feet, a cry of "hyu hyu", and then the vampire slammed his knees into the hollow of her back as every nerve howled in agony, pulling aside her flowing hair and—
Agony.
A burning pain in her neck, as fangs dug into her skin.
Fading.
Consciousness fading.
Being drained.
It was as if all life in Mana's body were being liquefied and sucked out. And as without strength, there were no thoughts, perhaps the consciousness was not fading at all, merely being destroyed.
With blood gurgling out of her open wounds and being sucked from her neck, the Satsujinki was so exhausted that she could not lift an arm, couldn't control her body.
And then…
"Ah—guh!"
An involuntary half-moan half-scream as something black and corrosive was being poured into her body, violating her insides, searing, burning.
"Ha…guh!"
A pain, a pain, a pain, as if her spine was about to be ripped out.
In pain, Mana clawed at the ground with her mangled but still usable hand, but there was no relief, as like liquid corrosion, the foreign substance tore through her body's insides, crawling and twisting as it pleased, replacing her life blood with something darker. It was not even a mouthful, but it seared the flesh all the same, causing enough pain to drive her near to madness.
"Ha…ah, ah…"
She knew this feeling…what it was like to be invaded.
"Don't worry, Executor, I won't kill you," Rolo's cold voice rang out from some distance away. "As a killer who could wound me, you are far more useful to me alive, so instead, I will turn you into one of my servants. A different creature…a tool for my use, a mere killing machine, one I will turn on the magi of this place, Burier!"
There was no one to save her. Her knives were gone, her left arm was useless, and in a matter of moments, the corrosive blood of the Dead Apostle would warp her body once and for all.
'No…it can't…it will not end like this…'
But there was no reply save the endless pitter-patter-pitter-pat of the rain, washing everything away...
A/N: Apologies for the delay (again). A couple of writing competitions had me a little sidetracked, but next chapter, a battle will erupt within the Tokyo Settlement, when three magi confront the false Zero (and yes, to those of you in the know, there will be some Kaleidostick action).
