Fate/Geass: The Eden Vital War
Disclaimer: In this particular universe, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the Code Geass, Fate/Stay Night, the Nasuverse or any other modern works that I may reference in this story.
Long ago, there was a war between Code-bearers and their Geass gifted armies over the power of Eden Vital, a war that destroyed the legendary continent of Atlantis and sent mankind back to the Stone Age. To prevent this, direct confrontations between Code-bearers are now forbidden, with disagreements to be resolved in a ritualized war of champions. But when V.V does the unthinkable and violates this tradition, he will soon learn that he is not the only one able to bend the rules for victory.
" " denotes speech
'italics'denotes thought
'bold' denotes location names
'bold italics' denotes skill use
Phantasm World of Avenger – "Implacable Alastor"
In a land of eternal suffering awash and blood and fire, where vengeful spirits roamed and the living corpses of those unjustly slain cried out for retribution, four Servants faced off in a battle that would end with at least one of their number dead. For the ground of this battlefield demanded to be fed with blood, the voices of victims past and present screaming into the minds of those who dared trespass a record of their sins, of crimes that could not be washed away no matter how much blood was spilled.
'Only death awaits,' they seemed to shriek, unwilling thoughts flowing into the minds of all present (save Avenger), their voices echoing, reverberating, jarring out of sync, playing merry havoc with rational thought. 'Too late. Too late. Too late. Scorned by one and scorned by all. Impure ones who must be cleansed, must atone for ever crime of man, every human treachery. Ruled by the inhuman, no conscience, grudge, fraud, kindness a lie, hope a lie, all things a lie, malignance shines bright, a great evil, the only truth. Atone, in death, ATONE.'
Though Rider had developed a slight resistance to the wrongness exuded by this place from the last time she had been here, even she was still assailed by a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea, as the world was tinted red. Lancer too, suffered from the effects of this world's power, reeling from the overwhelming force of human suffering compressed and forced upon his mind.
"GUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!"
Unfortunately, this spiritual pressure had absolutely no effect on the dark paladin Berserker, that mad force of destruction that had traded his meager scraps of sanity for overwhelming power. With two rusted swords in his armored hands, the mad warrior rushed for Avenger, knowing instinctively that the wraith of vengeance was the focal point of this illusionary world, and that if the demon were slain, Berserker would be free.
"Tch. Q-1, take care of Lancer," Avenger said, in the guise of Zero, his eyes studying the rather bad tactical situation. Granted, neither of the two enemies was allied to one another, but both were also likely quite powerful-certainly more powerful than Avenger, and both were moving towards their position. "I'll hold off Berserker."
"Got it," Rider replied shortly, also in the guise of Zero, chained daggers in her hand as she turned to face the Knight of the Spear. "Wait…you're going to fight Berserker? Your chances of winning—"
"They're slim," the wraith of vengeance answered, his jaw set with grim resolve, his expression indeterminable beneath his mirrored mask, as he brought his gunblades to bear on the advancing mad warrior. "However, they're not zero…as far as I'm concerned, that makes it the same as a 100% chance. I have a plan…so trust me, Q-1."
"Fine, but one thing," Kallen stated flatly, though under her mask, her expression softened momentarily. "Lelouch, don't die."
"Do you think it's that easy to kill a demon?" Avenger quipped, a predatory smile on his face hidden beneath his anti-heroic disguise. "Let's go."
Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
Tracers of light blazed forth into darkness as the demon king opened fire, silver bullets tearing through the air as if spitting on Berserker's attempt to advance, only for the streaks of metal to be absorbed into the miasma about the black knight.
"AOWWUUAAAHHHHH!"
Moving with the great agility expected of one of her class, Rider dashed across the field towards her dual spear wielding foe, the Lancer Servant dressed in a sleeveless black and teal leather bodysuit, every muscle in her body tensing and exploding into action all at once as she broke into a headlong rush, attention fully focused on her foe, with a shimmering mirage of heat about her form like a multitude of snakes.
But the Knight of the Spear was ready for such an attack.
"Zero!" Lancer called out, his dual spears held defensively. "So you are responsible for this madness. For the sake of Princess Cornelia, I will strike you down here!"
"I won't lose, not here in Avenger's World!" Kallen snapped as she attacks, her snake-like hair surging forward with a wave of heat in an attempt to pull away her opponent's weapons, shooting forward and—
Whirr!
—vanishing as they touched a barrier formed by Lancer spinning his Illusion Breaker, the cursed spear of blood with the power to nullify bounded fields.
"Wha-?"
But Rider had no time to ponder why it failed—to counter a Lancer's longer reach, she had to close the distance, so she raced forward, the female Servant sent a torrent of fiery red racing forward towards the enemy, roiling and churning like a living creature, the heat in the air increasing without limit as she looked at her assailant, wishing to drain him without remorse.
Slash! Fsh!
Once again, it failed, with Illusion Breaker gliding through the red strands with speed and accuracy, dissolving them as if Lancer were merely reaping the air for harvest, counter-charging his opponent, with a second spear shooting forward to pierce Rider—
Thunk! Clang!
—only for her to dodge and deflect, using her chained daggers to counter the golden lance thrust towards her, the chain wrapping around it as she pulled—
"Guh!"
—and Lancer smirked, letting go, allowing Rider's forcible tug to do his work for him, driving the golden spear towards her gut.
"Auugh!"
Whump! Squelch!
A giant leap to the side, as Rider avoided the worst of the blow, though caught as it was in her daggers' chain, it was dragged along with her, slamming into her side, a strained voice escaping her mouth as pain shot through her like a knife. Thankfully, it had not been a fatal strike, so in an instant, the female Servant yanked the spear from her side and tossed it at Lancer with a flick, using her chained dagger as an impromptu launching mechanism.
Swish!
But to no effect, as it sailed past the Spearhead of the Empire, who merely batted the annoyance aside and pressed his attack, allowing Kallen no time to stop and recover, no time to pull away. Crimson lance against twin daggers, his blows rained down, executed to take his opponent's neck without remorse or hesitation, meant to kill quickly and efficiently without waste.
Clang! Clash! Smash!
The first attack aimed at the neck to sever the spine – blocked.
The second attack aimed at the heart to destroy the body – evaded.
The third aimed to disable a limb—blocked.
'What…how is Zero able to block this while bleeding out?'
The lance's movement was a point to begin with, and now was nothing but a blur. With her eyes, Rider could not discern the thrusts of the lance coming towards her—so she did the only thing she could: using her inferiority in reach and weaponry itself as a weapon to block Lancer's furious onslaught. By deliberately leaving openings in her stance, Kallen controlled where the attacks would land, allowing her opponent to believe he had the advantage.
'My Origami technique is useless here, so I have to rely on daggers for now…'
Sparks flew again and again, as the two combatants battled one another, straining themselves to the utmost. Lancer fought out of duty, Rider out of passion…both wished for victory.
Clang! Clash! Crunch!
Certainly, she would die if she could not dodge or move fast enough to block the attacks, but in a choice between risking instant death and taking on more injuries little by little, slowly becoming unable to fight—she preferred to risk instant death. She was already bleeding from an unhealable wound to the side of her gut, so any further wounds would be…problematic.
Whump!
Leaping backward, Rider flung one of her chained daggers towards Lancer's face—only for the crimson lance Illusion Breaker to come up and ensnare itself within the chains, the Servant following up this move with a vicious tug that wrenched the weapons from Rider's hands, leaving her defenseless.
'Lancer…the natural enemy of Rider.'
Thus Kallen Kozuki was forced to retreat, using a furious storm of snake-like hair to momentarily blind her opponent with sheer volume, the aura racing forward in greater volume than even Lancer could stop all at once, allowing her to pull away, vaulting backwards over a mound of bodies.
'So I can't hurt him with my daggers, and my caging hair technique is useless,' she thought to herself, looking inward for what to do next. If she kept running, it would only be a matter of time until she was caught, so— 'Only one choice then.'
A series of esoteric hand gestures were performed. The blood dripping from Rider's open wound splattered out, droplets floating in midair between Rider and Lancer as the blood flowed into a magic circle.
"Mark Nemo!" Rider shouted, invoking the true name of her final Noble Phantasm.
Abruptly, as if sensing the vast amounts of power within that pattern, Lancer broke off his pursuit, his body being pushed back as Rider's form was surrounded by a crimson vortex of heat and fire, the summoning circle duplicating itself again and again, blazing with light as a massive shadow erupted from the ground below.
'Twas a monstrous inhuman weapon standing over 5 meters tall, wrought of congealed shadow and blood like a fallen angel stripped of its wings, armed with a jet black katana and numerous remote rocket anchors called Blonde Knives (similar to Slash Harkens), capable of piercing even the most powerful of armors. This was Mark Nemo, Rider'sgreatest Noble Phantasm, an ultimate fantasy, the crystallization of humanity's fear of an inhuman enemy.
Up until now, this weapon of Rider's had gone unused, and yet it was the weapon that defined her as a member of that class of Servant. Saber, Archer, Lancer, Caster – these were all chosen for their proficiency in a certain weapon. The qualification for Rider however, was excellence in guiding one's chosen mount—with Kallen's as a manifestation of the ultimate Knightmare.
"Die, Britannian!" she called from within its cockpit, launching one Blonde Knife after another towards Lancer as the avatar of Nightmares thundered across the battlefield with speed belied by its size, leaping forward, katana raised to slash the unfortunate Servant in two.
Whoosh! Thwack!
Sensing danger, Lancer jumped to the side, rolling out of the way of Rider's attack, even as the Blonde Knives chase after, one knocking his crimson spear from his hand so that he stood defenseless. Guilford was incredulous at the sight of this Knightmare Frame, one unlike anything he had ever seen. No landspinners? Slash Harkens that moved to engage enemies automatically, each drilling rapidly to pierce defenses or destroy weapons? Truly…this was a monster out of legend, and even a Servant stood no chance against it.
'…Unless one can match the monster power for power, for where there is fear, there are also those who face it with honor!'
That realization came into Lancer's mind as he tried futilely to avoid the death streaking towards him, his zig-zagging allowing him to avoid immediately being crushed, but losing him ground against this monstrous foe.
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Crunch!
More Blonde Knives crashed into the ground, slashing towards him with their drill tips—only to be repulsed by a summoning circle of golden light that appeared around the Spearhead of the Empire, as he invoked his own Noble Phantasm.
"Regalia!"
Light exploded outwards in a shower of sparks, momentarily blinding all those on the field as Lancer was drawn into the cockpit of this second mount, a construct similar in nature to a Knightmare, but taking on the shape of a winged centaur.
This was Regalia, the crystallization of the ideal of chivalry, the greatest virtue of those who bore the title of Knight, alluding to the time lancers were mounted horsemen. In legends, it had always been brave knights and men at arms that faced down inhuman enemies, avoiding the terrible swift blows of their opponents, countering with courage and confidence in their marital skill.
Like Mark Nemo, this Knightmare did not possess Landspinners, its four legs and wings instead enabling it to move more swiftly across rugged terrain or even to fly, allowing it to more effectively strike from range with its hip-mounted auto-cannons, its wing mounted slash-harkens, or bodily, using its golden drill-lance capable of piercing the heavens.
"What…you have a Knightmare too?" Rider hissed out, already moving to cleave Lancer's new toy in twain.
Swish!
But the Mark Nemo's katana cut only air, as the Regalia blurred into motion, soaring into the sky, flying out of range like a giant arrow of light, rising high into the clouds before turning about, speeding for the Knightmare wrought of shadow—which leaped to oppose it.
Clang!
Two Knightmares clashed in the sky, silhouettes intersecting at great speeds, coming together and separating, Slash Harkens against Blonde Knives, sword against spear.
Whirr! Whirr! Crash! Rippp!
Time and again, they surged towards one another, Regalia swooping down, weapons blazing, while Mark Nemo leaped about, dodging, flipping, maneuvering in midair as it brought its blades to bear—and missed as Regalia pulled away, with Blonde Knives shooting after, aiming to ensnare one of the wings—
Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
—only for the autocannons mounted to Regalia's hip to open fire, forcing the Mark Nemo to twist away to avoid critical damage.
In this battle without footholds, even the formidable Mark Nemo was on the defensive, as Regalia could fly, thus giving it the advantage, with Rider's frame only able to strike its enemy by kicking off the cursed hill, trampling corpses underfoot.
'Damn…what is it with enemy Servants and flying Knightmares?' Rider thought to herself. In both the physical world and phantasmagoria, she had apparently been given a Knightmare that was excellent and highly mobile—while on the ground—while enemy Servants had obtained flying Knightmares capable of attacking from greater range. Even here, her mount did not let her fly through the sky, leaving her at the same disadvantage as she had faced when dueling the Lancelot frame.
Clang! Crash!
To prove the point, Lancer's frame attacked from both sides and from above, launching arcing assaults from every direction, unbound by gravity. Rider's countered with dodges, bursts of speed, acrobatics, seeking an angle from which she could assail the enemy unhindered—but finding none. Regalia was unconstrained by the need for motion in a straight line, instead swooping, arcing, curving away, its ranged weapons continuously threatening the Mark Nemo in a circus of death invisible to normal beings.
Whoom!
Kallen sensed danger just in time for Mark Nemo to narrowly avoid being skewered by Regalia's drill lance, dodging as her unit did best. For there was a limit to how much she could block Lancer's attacks in mid-air, otherwise risking being flung back to the ground—her leaps and attacks are the difference between rising until she loses her speed and an uncontrolled freefall.
Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
From the wings of Regalia, hanging up in the air, slash harkens shoot out, followed by tracers of fire from an autocannon, as Mark Nemo zig-zag-zigs to avoid it, jumping up towards the flying Knightmare with determination—only for the winged centaur to pull away once more.
Beyond a certain range, pursuit was impossible—there was simply no way Kallen could destroy the flying Knightmare from the ground, at least without a ranged weapon.
Still, even in this inferior position, Rider kept her cool, awaiting a chance to counter, awaiting a mistake in the enemy's plan that would give her an opening to attack. For even a powerful Knightmare like this one could surely be destroyed.
"I'm surprised, Zero," the voice of Guilford boomed from above. "You are not as difficult of an opponent as I expected."
In response Kallen only set her jaw, holding her sword in a defensive guard.
'Avenger is counting on me to win this battle,' the redhead thought to herself. 'The resistance would not have made it this far without him—so I can't fail now. For his sake. For the sake of all those who have died. For the sake of Japan!'
"But is there any meaning in that?" the Spearhead of the Empire continued. "You have no chance of victory…so disappear now, for the sake of—Princess Cornelia!"
Lancer's last words sounded strained, panicked for some reason, which should not be, given that he was in a much superior position at the moment. Still, it was to Kallen's relief (and frustration) that Regalia broke away from battle with Mark Nemo, soaring high into the air, disappearing from view for a moment as threads of lightning gathered from the clouds around onto its relentlessly spinning drill lance so that it glowed like a fresh born star, Regalia's entire frame swathed in blazing blue fire as the drill spun faster faster ever faster, almost seeming to grow to become larger than the mecha itself as it took in power from the air around.
Meanwhile, back on the ground, Lelouch vi Britannia (in the guise of Zero) was having a rather difficult time against Berserker, as one might expect when the weakest of Servants challenged the strongest.
'This is rather ironic,' Avenger thought to himself, 'as the sub-commander of the Black Knights, I find myself having to face a black knight.'
Without warning, Berserker hurled the two rusted swords he had acquired earlier at his foe, the two flying straight and true—to miss Avenger and—
BOOM!
—explode in gouts of magical energy as they flew past him.
"Guh!"
There was a sickening squish-thud, as Avenger was lifted off his feet, hurled through the air, and…landed on his feet, wincing in pain. Had he not been undergone extremely painful training from hell from his immortal master, (who was close enough to a demon to make it a literal hell), he would likely have fallen, but the exiled prince forced himself to keep moving with sheer willpower.
'If Berserker catches up to me…' the wraith swallowed the rest of his thought as he retreated backwards, his two gunblades Reason and Atonementcontinuously discharging a storm of metal flechettes in an attempt to at least annoy (and slow down) the heavily armored knight, but to no avail. 'His speed is unexpectedly high for such a heavily armored warrior…'
Indeed, Berserker was in his sights, advancing like a raging wind…barely pausing in its implacable onslaught as the mad Servant picked up two more rusted swords from the ground, turning pieces of Avenger's World itself into weapons to be used against the world's creator.
Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
Once again, the demon king opened fire, unleashing a wave of silver bullets towards Berserker's helmet, torso, arms, legs…hoping to land a lucky strike on a weak point and do some damage. But the metal slugs were not even a nuisance to the mad warrior, not even reaching its armor as it was absorbed into the thick fog that surrounded the black knight.
"NUAAAHHHHHHH!"
It would have been easy for Avenger to give into the fear he felt, as he realized just how powerful his opponent was—but this was his world, a world of anger, a world of despair, a world where those that suffered demanded vengeance.
'And I will not fail, for their sake…for my sake…for the sake of destroying Britannia!' the wraith of vengeance resolved, tightening his grip on his gunblades as he covered his retreat with shrapnel. His face was grim, his heart heavy…but his chance of victory was not zero. 'For if the king does not move, the people will not follow.'
Whoosh!
Once more, rusted swords were hurled towards Avenger, who jumped back—this time successfully avoiding most of the force as they exploded, releasing white-hot shrapnel that burned into his flesh with a sizzle and a small tempest of magical energy.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
It seemed that Berserker would keep up the barrage of exploding swords as the black knight advanced, turning objects into Noble Phantasms, and changing those impromptu Noble Phantasms into Broken Phantasms, his Knight of Honor ability essentially allowing him to create these highly dangerous weapons at will as long as there was something that he could grab onto.
Whoosh! Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
The black knight's tosses and hurls were unrefined, unaimed, unguided, but still, they did enough damage, given the force and magical energy he imbued into each exploding weapon. An unstoppable juggernaut, Berserker would kill his opponent eventually, regardless of what was done—thus there was no need to aim, no need to refine technique unless necessary, as these were things that humans used to compensate for weakness, and weakness was the one thing that Berserker did not have.
Lelouch, on the other hand, was all too human, and the term "weakness" was fairly a synonym for him physically. Hence, he had become an expert of many specializations to counter for this—including tactics and the ability to think about multiple factors on the battlefield at once, his mind's eye allowing him to calmly analyze situations and the enemy's ability in spite of danger to himself, considering of all possible actions in a particular situation.
Crack-a-crack-a crack-a crack!
Here, he was demonstrating his prowess by using his gunblades to shoot Berserker's impromptu projectiles out of the air, causing them to detonate in a storm around the advancing black knight. True, even these exploding projectiles did not manage to damage the fallen paladin, but at least they disrupted its aim by clouding its senses.
'No matter how strong Berserker's attacks are…if he cannot hit me, his strength is useless. On the other hand…' the wraith of vengeance thought, scrabbling backwards as fast as his legs could manage, although that wasn't enough to keep the mad warrior from coming forward. He was perfectly aware that the directly offensive weapons in his arsenal were his gunblades – weapons which had absolutely no effect on Berserker, and that if he was caught, dealing with Berserker in hand to hand combat would be worse than a bad joke for him.
'No…10 meters now'
Against an opponent as relentless as a storm, Avenger retreated, vaulting backwards over a mound of bodies, flechette rounds screaming for Berserker's last known location—this time towards the cluster of swords around the insane Servant, shattering them so that Berserker would have no further weapon to use against the demon king.
—at least, that was the intended outcome of Avenger's maneuver, as he was not expecting the armored Servant to bend down and rip the limbs from a fallen corpse, infusing those with magical energy, turning them into black metal versions of their former selves before redoubling his speed.
'…that's…not good,' Avenger mentally choked, retching at this display of wonton violence. 'So this is Berserker…'
Splash! Thud!
The two limbs were hurled through the air, landing at his feet and exploding once again, this time knocking the demon king to the ground, as Berserker closed the distance at last.
Schwing!
Out of nowhere, two rusted swords slashed at his prone form, and Lelouch twisted aside as the sharp black edges cut through the space he was in a moment ago. In a flash, he was back on his feet, trying to defend as best he could against—
Clang! Whump!
Avenger raised his gun blades, keeping the powerful blow from severing his head from his body, but was flung backwards onto the blood soaked battlefield once more, with the armored juggernaut called Berserker coming towards him like inevitable death.
"Guh!"
The point of the fallen paladin's sword was thrust through Avenger's arm, the dull sound of metal scraping bone informing the Servant of his impending end.
"Hah—kuh," the wraith of vengeance panted, trying to protect his vitals with furious slashing from the gunblade in his usable hand, firing a steady stream of bullets at point blank range—which again, did not even touch Berserker's armor.
Squelch!
"Auuughhhh!"
The sound of cutting and agony echoed through the battlefield, as with an annoying sound, another blade pierced through his gut, slashing through an artery. Lelouch's vision was blocked by the spray of blood from his body, falling back as Berserker came at him at a speed he couldn't see.
Slice!
A rusted blade was jammed into the demon king's leg, rendering him immobile, as a voice that didn't seem Avenger's own escapes his mouth. He could not retreat, and thud! an arm was damaged from blocking the blow.
The demon king could not oppose for much longer, losing the energy he needed to live on, his clothes ripped, his flesh torn and bleeding. At this point, his body was moving purely from a desire not to die, limping backwards away from the presence of death as—
Crunch!
"UGHHHHH!"
With the terrible strength of a whirlwind, a roundhouse kick smashed into Avenger's stomach, blowing Lelouch's body into the air, as the armored knight leaps up and smashes him into the ground with a gauntleted punch, cracking ribs, his body broken and bleeding on the ground below.
Slowly, biding its time, the armored knight approached to finish the job, and with each step the foe took, Lelouch could feel the world throbbing as if he was in the stomach of a living being, already being digested.
'Am I...going to die like this? Like this, going to die selfishly, unable to save anything?'
A few of his ribs were crushed, blood seeps in torrents from his side—but his body was not yet fully destroyed, and his limbs were still attached, if broken, so…forcing his numb arms and legs, the Servant stood up defiantly.
From the beginning, Avenger could not beat Berserker, not in direct combat. He could not even be a match. As the weakest of Servants, he knew that all too well—but even so, his actions had not been a mistake. The pain in his body, his grievous wounds—this and more he accepted as the price of a victory, the price he must pay to be Zero's sword.
At the agony searing through his body with every move, a predatory smile crossed the wraith of vengeance's face.
'The tasks at hand have been completed.'
Standing as straight as he can, Lelouch looked upon the dark paladin, as if to sear into his mind the form of the greatest Servant, while his lips shaped two simple words:
"Verg Avesta."
An ability that could only be used as a counterattack, this was one of Avenger's two trump cards, returning to an opponent all the damage inflicted upon him.
"AOWWUUAAAHHHHH!"
At long last, on the very brink of death, Avenger had damaged Berserker grievously, as the armored titan charged, madness only enhanced by the pain, slamming the weakest Servant to the ground in its thrashing, so that Avenger's broken ribs punctured lungs, bruised organs, ruptured veins as his hemorrhaging intensified.
With Avenger seemingly finished, Berserker sought any other remaining targets, beginning to trample off in the direction of Mark Nemo when—
"Help me," a proud, but broken voice called softly in the momentary lull. "Help me, Guilford, my knight…"
With one last move available to him, Avenger had invoked his ability "Not for One's Own Glory", taking on the appearance of a badly wounded Second Princess Cornelia, gambling on what he knew of Lancer as the ever loyal royal guard.
"—Princess Cornelia!" boomed from above, a clear indication that Lancer had heard the soft message from within his Knightmare frame, as the autocannon fired, tracers of fire lancing towards Berserker, who growled in anger as he spun his swords to block.
It was at that moment that Regalia broke away from battle with Mark Nemo, rising high into the air, its silhouette disappearing from view for a moment as threads of lightning gathered from the clouds onto its relentlessly spinning drill lance so that it glowed like a fresh born star, flowing from the drill to swathe the winged centaur in blazing blue fire as the drill spun on, faster faster faster, with a cone of light forming ahead of the Knightmare itself, becoming a giant arrow of power that would strike Berserker and annihilate the mad one completely.
Like a bolt from the heavens, Regalia surged towards the form of Berserker, launching a hail of blades that surrounded the fallen knight, trapping the mad one in place as it drew inexorably closer, plummeting towards the ground, bleeding off vast amounts of magical energy as its drill lance spun, swirling without limit.
"GUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!"
Sensing the danger, the mad warrior tossed aside his impromptu weapons and drew his true blade, the infamous longsword overflowing with black light as his own form pulsed with flames of dark magical energy. About the sword wrapped a frenzied wind, shrieking of plague and pandemonium, of wailing, carnage, despair, setting it aflame, drawing mana from the bloody world to counter the fire of the descending Knightmare.
Sword in hand, the armored knight Berserker faced down the descending Knightmare, ready to destroy it as he had everything else that had come before.
But Regalia pulled away, spiraling up up up into the sky as if rising to strike the moon, gaining altitude for a final dive before arcing and turning towards earth—becoming an arrow of light aimed straight for Berserker.
'For Princess Cornelia's sake, I will not fail!'
WHOOSH!
With fire enveloping its form, Regalia descended as a surge of light, growing large enough to destroy not only Berserker, but the entire area where the armored one was standing. From this mighty attack, this certain kill giga drill…technique, there could be no possible escape.
A drill that could pierce the heavens flashed at Berserker like a thunderbolt!
But in Berserker's hands was an assembly of mankind's despair, the greatest of the demonic swords, a dark light corrupting all that it touched.
"Arondight."
A deep, dark growl, it was the first word that Berserker has spoken since entering the Phantasm World: the true name of his Noble Phantasm. With one word, he released its curse upon the world, terrible power surging out as a line of corrupted shadowlight, a blade of darkness that annihilated everything it touched, vaporizing Regalia and Lancer in one mighty blow, before soaring up into the sky and cutting through the clouds.
Said to have existed as the sword of Lancelot of the Lake, Arondight was the symbol of ultimate betrayal of ideal, of self, of country. The strongest of corrupted Noble Phantasms, it was Berserker's symbol of despair, and yet the source of his greatest power.
"AOWWUUAAAHHHHH!"
Crash!
The blades that surrounded Berserker were knocked aside, as once again the mad warrior took to the field of battle, striding ponderously towards the Mark Nemo—which had moved to protect the fallen form of Avenger, whose disguise now dissolved to save energy.
Once more the name "Arondight" was uttered, the curse of ultimate betrayal lancing out to erase both Rider and Avenger from existence when—
"Fragarach!"
The shadowlight dispersed, disappearing as if the attack had never been launched in the first place, with a large jagged hole appearing suddenly in Berserker's chest, a mortal wound that struck the heart and other organs. With a thud, it was the mad warrior's turn to slump to the ground, his vital essence draining away as his body dissolved into dust, with his helm crumbling to reveal the face of Suzaku Kururugi, madness leaving his eyes in the last moments of his life.
Quietly, the black paladin looked over to its killers, a phantom pang of remorse but satisfaction in his chest as he saw the identity of the broken body of the one who had bested him.
"I should have guessed you would be the one to grant my wish, Lelouch," the now freed Suzaku chuckled softly, his voice calm in the dying twilight. "Thank you…for killing me."
With that, his body broke apart into motes of light, as the Phantasm World itself rumbled, flickered, began to fade in the aftershock of the battle, with both survivors disappearing from the land of eternal suffering as suddenly as they had arrived.
JLF Observation Post Number Five, Narita Mountains
It was to twinges of phantom pain that Kallen Kozuki at last came to, stirred from her long bout of unconsciousness with a sense of weary satisfaction. This had been the first time she had been forced into fighting in phantasmagoria after a long battle in the physical world, and the combined effects were unpleasant. Still, at least she had fared better than Avenger, who was—
"Oh, so you're awake, Rider," spoke a voice from beside her, as Kallen opened her eyes to find the figure of Zero standing over her, much like the first time she had emerged from Phantasm World. "I've been waiting, as we have a meeting with the Britannian Governor General in about half an hour."
"Thanks," Servant Rider groaned painfully, feeling her muscles protest as she lifted herself up to a sitting position. Then Zero's words sunk in, leaving Rider somewhat confused. "A meeting? What for?"
"To discuss terms of surrender," the immortal witch replied nonchalantly, causing Kallen's eyes to bulge as the Servant looked over at the masked leader of the Black Knights.
"What?ǃ What do you mean—" she began to sputter, but was cut off.
"The terms for their surrender, I should say," C.C. amended, as Kallen's jaw dropped in an expression of utter shock.
"You…you don't mean…"
"Yes," Zero confirmed, giving a sharp nod of her head. "The Black Knights stand victorious, having destroyed the Britannian forces, disabled the White Knightmares, and captured Princess Cornelia. And with your victory in Phantasmagoria, our victory is complete."
Tentatively, Rider looked about to cabin to find that Avenger was still out cold, his chest barely moving, his body frozen in a deep trance.
"And Avenger?" Kallen asked quietly, wondering when her comrade in arms would recover.
"His wounds were rather worse than yours this time, and it was in his Phantasm World that the fighting took place, so…" C.C. tilted her head, considering how to phrase her words, and then sighed. "It will be at least a day or two before he wakes up, if not more."
"I see," Rider said at last, looking over at the exiled prince.
'Devious as ever, Lelouch Lamperouge…but you allowed us to win. Thank you, Avenger.'
"Well then, shall we to the meeting?" Zero asked, raising an eyebrow behind her mirrored mask.
"Why not?"
G-1 Mobile Base
In a now vacated G-1 Mobile Base, representatives of the Black Knights, the Britannian government, and what remained of the Japanese Liberation Front were meeting to discuss the terms of surrender the Black Knights would mete out. Those attending from each side were as follows: Lloyd Asplund, Cecile Croomy, and Euphemia li Britannia (Britannians); Zero, Kallen Kozuki, and Kaname Ohgi (Order of Black Knights); and Kyoshiro Tohdoh from the Japanese Liberation Front.
"You want…what?ǃ" Governor General Lloyd Asplund nearly wailed, leaping out of his chair with a look of utter horror on his face—and then was yanked back down by Cecile Croomy, who had been recovered from the Lancelot Club during the ceasefire.
"The Seventh Generation Knightmare that was developed under your direction was called the Lancelot, was it not?" Zero said, more of a statement than a question. "As part of our terms, we ask that that Knightmare be handed over to the Black Knights as prizes of war, along with its support trailers, and the other military hardware we have captured here. You may keep the Lancelot Club, as it was not directly used against us."
"…you can't be serious," the Earl of Pudding spoke, trying to make the leader of the Black Knights see his version of reason, only for the even stare of the mirrored visor to unnerve him. "That Knightmare is…"
"You currently lack a devicer to operate said Knightmare Frame, as Warrant Officer Kururugi was killed in combat," Zero stated flatly. True, it had been combat in Phantasmagoria, rather than in the physical world, but she saw no need to mention that. "We would be more than happy to send you copies of the combat data we obtain, as you have been kind enough to send us so much information in the past. And we will allow you to have the remains of the Knight Giga Fortress Siegfried, if you will promise never to deploy it against the Black Knights."
As the second part of Zero's statement, the sour expression on Lloyd's face cleared up, with the man looking positively intrigued. The giant orange assault craft was indeed one of the things that had piqued the scientist's curiosity, and to get his hands on it…
"Alright, I suppose I can agree to that," the scientist conceded, his eyes lighting up as he considered just what he might be able to do with the remains of that fortress. Perhaps another Sutherland could be upgraded with those parts into…a Sutherland Sieg?
It was here that Sub-Viceroy Euphemia shot a look at the Governor General, wondering just how much he had passed on.
"You will not harm the civilians, I hope? There are many behind this mobile base, evacuated here from all over the region," the Third Princess spoke up, challenging the immortal. "Not to mention field hospitals."
"Euphemia li Britannia," the Geass Witch gently replied. "I have no intention of hurting unarmed civilians, I assure you, be they Britannian, Japanese, or anything else. I do not repudiate battle on a fair and level field, but I will not be a party to massacres. We, the Black Knights, will even assist in the rescue operation—asking of course, that you place a moratorium on action against us, military or otherwise, for at least the next month. In addition, any members of the Britannian military forces that participated in this operation—which includes yourself and Princess Cornelia li Britannia—are not to take up arms against, or lead troops against the Black Knights for at least a period of one year—I believe that is standard for parole of prisoners of war, correct?"
"Agreed, and that is so," Lloyd conceded, nodding tiredly. He didn't care too much for combat himself, and he knew that if he didn't agree, Cecile would probably hit him. "You are being…rather generous in your victory, are you not? What is your aim?"
"I see no reason to impose overly harsh terms, as that would make me no better than the Emperor of Britannia, the man who is my enemy," C.C. responded, causing the others to eye her with curiosity. "My eventual aim in Area 11 is the creation of a free and independent Japan—not a special zone where the Japanese have some rights, but a nation restored and recognized as independent. To that end, will you and the Four Holy Swords not join with us, Kyoshiro Tohdoh?"
"…we will discuss this, certainly," the one styled "Tohdoh of Miracles" allowed. "What of the Japanese Liberation Front?"
"As you have seen from the results of battle, as an organization, you are finished," the immortal replied without malice. "Whether you will join us or not is up to you."
Euphemia looked at Zero then, recalling the masked woman's exchange with the pilot of the Knight Giga Fortress.
"You mentioned that the pilot of the orange assault craft was the murderer of Lady Marianne vi Britannia," the pink-haired princess mentioned, her lips pursing in thought. "As well as that he was immortal…what did you mean?"
"That is my other great enemy, V.V," C.C. replied from behind her mask. "He and Clovis worked together to found the Code-R project in which many humans were experimented on in an attempt to duplicate the secret of immortality, studying human augmentation and other advanced technologies, like those in the Knight Giga Fortress."
"Immortality…?" Euphemia asked blankly. "But that's…"
"I see, how interesting," Lloyd murmured, his attention completely captured by the immortal's words. "Yes, that does match with the research data I was able to uncover. But how do you know of it…were you an escaped subject of this experiment?"
"No," Zero answered at once. "I am not a being created by that experimental project. Rather, I am the sworn enemy of both V.V. and his greatest supporter, Charles zi Britannia. If you wish to know more, Earl Asplund…then join me."
"A tempting offer, ve—"
"Governor General," a voice blared over the intercom. "Our forces in Kyushu are reporting an invasion by the Chinese Federation."
"It seems that events have gotten ahead of us, Earl Asplund. Let us continue these negotiations after we deal with the invasion, shall we?" asked Zero, receiving a round of nods from everyone at the table. "After all, I wish for a free and independent Japan, not for a simple change in masters. However, may I propose a joint operation with the Black Knights to repulse the invaders when the time comes?"
"Would I pass up a chance to obtain data for the Lancelot and my other Knightmares?"
Fukuoka Base, Kyushu
Dozens of pyramid-shaped mobile fortresses floated out of the rain and wind and fog of war, their cannons blasting fiery death at the Britannian garrison at Kyushu, their layered decks covered with hundreds of Gun-Ru Knightmares apiece, raining destruction on the defending fortresses, VTOLs and ships that came to meet them.
Several of the massive landships had already made it to shore, where they disgorged their cargo of troops, knightmares, and mobile surface to air missile launchers, swarming over the island with the sheer weight of numbers, overwhelming any who opposed them.
The leader of this first strike squad, Li Xingke, was himself on the field of battle, piloting a Gekka Pre-Production Test-Type that had been sent to the Chinese Federation by the Maharajah, a blue unit designed to test the viability of a mass-production version of the Guren.
Whirr!
Armed with an elongated, heated chain-sword in one hand, it slashed through those Knightmares foolish enough to challenge it from the right, as—
Sizzle! Fwoosh!
—the radiant wave surger mounted in its left arm was used as an impromptu shield when necessary, otherwise being used to destroy the old Glasgows sent against it, melting them into useless lumps of metal.
'For the honor of the Tianzi and the Chinese Federation, we will capture Area 11.'
A/N: The Battle of Narita draws to an end in its entirety. The groundwork for shifting alliances is being laid, and the Chinese Federation invades. Thanks for reading, and reviews are greatly appreciated!