Lulu's Bizarre Rebellion

by Ezit Meti

Lelouch Lamperouge was a boy with an ambition; To one day bring down the corrupt nation of Britannia and create a peaceful world for his sister. However, a single arrow gifted him a power that will help him reach his ambition. Stands... Ripple... A feud between two bloodlines that transcends time... And that's only the beginning of this bizarre rebellion!

21. The Society of Struggle

Disclaimer: Code Geass belongs to Sunrise. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is property of Hirohiko Araki.

Arc 2: Broken Dreams

In the year 2017 of the Imperial calendar, the world is forced to awaken to the existence of the supernatural. The power known as Stand has struck a terrible blow at Britannia's perceived military superiority and their place in the universe.

In the midst of this turmoil are the Black Knights, self proclaimed guardians of justice. Lelouch, their mysterious benefactor is now beginning to learn the cost of his rebellion. Sadly, this lesson has not yet been properly learned.

But the universe is the most patient of all teachers.

Chapter 21: The Society of Struggle

====Lelouch====

It had been a busy week, to say the very least. Just think of it. A mere week ago the possibility of taking on the Empire felt as though it were years away, a far off distant dream. Outwardly he had been an ordinary student in every way, save for the occasional decision to skip classes and gamble against the nobility in games of chess. Inwardly? He had been planning. Scheming the downfall of an Empire in control of a third of the planet. Searching for vulnerable positions to strike from, daydreaming on the subject of revenge. He would begin by staging a roundabout rebellion, gathering soldiers to his cause under the banner of justice to fight back. From there, he would build upon their military might with the same practised charisma that had - unfortunately for someone as serious as himself - made him quite popular at school. He had looked into various research papers on advancing military technology, in particular being impressed by an Indian engineer. It had all been preparation for later. Much later. At a time when he had moved himself into position to strike them down with the full considerable strength of his fury.

The existence of Stands had changed everything. His procurement of this bizarre power opened up leagues of potential strategies he would never have considered before. What was more, he could pick from those that elected to fight alongside him and grant them that same amazing power. Certainly, Stand Out's attack had forced his hand in a manner he had not expected, but now he could slow things down. Take his time. Gather resources and allies while riding on the coattails of what had gone before. They would lurk within the shadows, left visible only to those he allowed to see them. Sort out the complicated factors, such as organisation, recruitment, Shirley's involvement, Suzaku's naive beliefs, further details surrounding this inexplicable unquestionable supernatural ability. And then…

"Sit still a moment," the green haired witch said, dragging Lelouch back to the here and now. "I thought you wanted me to fix your leg."

It was quite the unusual scenario, and he was grateful they were alone. Imagine how it looked: The two of them in his bedroom, C.C. on her knees inspecting Lelouch's leg. Didn't exactly look all that great, did it? The rumours that would fly if they were caught went beyond imagining. The hit his reputation would take in the process was intolerable to consider. Schizoid Man might well pummel the two of them into oblivion. Or it might try to get Shirley to join in. Then again, while he had her attention...

"I was wondering if you'd tell me a little more about this power you gave my sister," Lelouch said. "This is what I already know: It is called Geass. With direct eye contact, she can make a person obey a single command without hesitation. All memories of obeying or receiving the command are apparently erased, or at least muted to the point they do not influence a person's behaviour."

"The two of you have learned quite a lot already," C.C. said, rising to her feet. "All done. Lie back on your bed and keep the weight off for a while. You're lucky it didn't hit bone or get infected."

"Very well," Lelouch said, reluctantly reclining on his bed. "But I would still like to know why you gave my sister this power. What do you get out of giving it to her? Why her? Are there any side effects we should be warned about?"

"My, my! So many questions," she said while lazily collapsing into a chair and inhaling a slice of the pizza he'd bribed her with in a matter of moments. Add another question to the pile: How does she eat so much without gaining weight? "One might almost think you would have preferred Geass over your Stand."

"And for that matter, why is it incompatible with Stand? I'd also like you to tell me everything you know about Stand. Do vampires truly exist? Where do they come from? Was Ripple developed expressly for fighting them?"

She chuckled and stretched out in the most nonchalant manner. It seemed to serve little purpose except to get him annoyed. Tragically, if that were her intention then it was working rather effectively.

"Everything I do from now on has your sister's well being in mind," C.C. replied. Another slice of pizza was sacrificed to her insatiable appetite, made to disappear in the blink of an eye. "Including healing your leg. You're rather lucky she's already asleep. How worried would she be if she realised it was because you were fighting Stand Out tonight?"

"Are you saying you don't intend to tell her?"

"Not a word," C.C. said. A playful, triumphant smirk grew upon her face. "The Black Knights, fighting for justice. Sounds interesting."

Though Lelouch was initially surprised that she knew that much, he quickly realised that he really should not be. If she knew even the first thing about medicine it would not be difficult for her to see that the injury to his leg was inconsistent with any kind of typical injury. Even a gunshot wouldn't have explained it. Besides which, who was to say what other powers she might have at her disposal that he had not yet observed? Heaven help him if she could read minds. That kind of power was a complication he could do without, even from an ally. Never mind a mysterious witch with her own unknown agenda.

"You should join us," he said. "The military is looking for you, after all. We could offer you our protection."

"Not the entire military," C.C. said. "My existence was very secret so hiding shouldn't be too difficult. Besides, shouldn't you be more worried that you're taking on a whole Empire? Even with Stands, that's not an easy undertaking. This opponent may be too large for you to defeat so easily."

"You think so?" Lelouch replied. Painted Black drifted away from him, circling around C.C.'s head. She tried to bat it away as if it were a fly. "I long intended to obliterate Britannia without this power. Though I must adjust my plans to include the possibility of encountering Stand users fighting for the Empire, the situation has forced me to make an early first move."

"You strike me as the sort that prefers to play black," C.C. said, reaching towards a chess set on a table in the corner and lifting the black King, allowing the piece to rest in the palm of her hand. "Always reacting to your opponent's opening gambit and using that knowledge to counter their moves ahead of time. But that strategy depends on knowing what your opponent will be able to do in future. The existence of Stands negates that possibility."

"That's where you're wrong," Lelouch firmly said, turning the piece invisible within C.C.'s grip. "When they act first, they expose the nature of their ability. I've already learned this much; Knowing what an enemy Stand can do is half of any battle. There's a greater chance of learning their abilities if they make the first move."

Although the societal factor must also be considered. How would the people react to Stands? It was one thing predicting the governmental reactions, but the general population was an entirely different animal. Fearful? Hatred? Denial? Would they take it as a sign of a higher power, or lose faith in the Empire altogether? This was another reason for the Black Knights to lay low. Until he knew what kind of mood events would take once the aftermath had settled, any action he took might make future plans more difficult to enact. In a confrontation like this it was impossible to be too cautious. At the very least, with Stand Out removed from the equation he could travel the path ahead at his own pace, instead of being dragged along against his own will. It would give him the time to sort out the complications recent events had forced upon him.

"And your new girlfriend?" C.C. asked, interrupting his thoughts again by drawing attention towards one of those very complications. "Where does Miss Fenette factor into everything? Do you actually like her, or is she just another pawn in your grand game?"

"I don't know."

It was a difficult thing for someone like Lelouch to confess, but refusing to recognise the answer to that question was something he would not ever allow himself to do. Before recent events had spiralled out of control he had viewed Shirley as a friend, another member of the student council. Then it turned out that she had a Stand. A powerful Stand at that. Too powerful for her to control properly. So powerful it was causing her undue amounts of stress in an already incredibly stressful situation. On top of that, if Schizoid Man and her own behaviour was anything to go by, then she should have a rather significant crush on him. Which he exploited. And then? Then he killed her father. Then he put her into a situation where she took a life. And then she'd still followed him, even in spite of that. How was he supposed to feel about that?

"She's being interviewed for television later," he finally said. "Her father was a member of Stand Out, so it's only natural."

"Isn't that a bit risky?"

"Yes. But it's unavoidable. At this point there is nothing to be done except use this to our advantage. The past is the past. You can't change it no matter how you try."

"Remember what I told you," C.C. said. "Your enemy is an Empire. If you confront them with a soft heart then they will crush you and everyone behind you. They are a strong enemy, and -"

"Is it good to be strong?" Lelouch interrupted. "Don't attempt to lecture me on how strong the Empire is. I know full well what they are willing and able to do. It is a culture that thrives and flourishes by stepping down on the neck of those that cannot fight back. In turn, causing poverty. Starvation. Easily treated sickness. Constant war and terrorism causing everyone to suffer, but especially the weak, who want no part in any of it but have no ability to escape their fate. Like rats trapped in a maze, seeking cheese that doesn't exist. My dream is to create a gentler world for my sister's sake, no matter the cost."

"And you think you can change the world that much?" C.C. asked. "Compared to defeating an Empire, that kind of change to human nature might be even more of a challenge."

"No, of course not. I'm not that arrogant," Lelouch said. "Regardless. The wheel must be broken. Someone has to win."

"And you intend for that person to be you?"

"The winner shall be lady justice, not I!" Lelouch replied. "Now. Are you going to join the Black Knights or aren't you? We could certainly make use of someone with your talents. Not to mention your specialist knowledge."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not," C.C. replied. "I only did this much because I felt like it."

It was a truly frustrating situation, knowing that he had absolutely no way to make her compliant. The only psychological leverage he seemed able to wield over her was pizza, which could prove rapidly expensive given the rate she consumes them. Physical harm? She could apparently shrug it off. Psychological ploys? It seemed as though she didn't have any vulnerabilities there either. Her stubborn nature was as a shield to such tactics. Any meaningful threat he might apply to make her talk would rebound upon him: He could hardly threaten to turn her over, as she would reveal incriminating details about him at will. He had absolutely no leverage. For all of his skills in manipulation, Lelouch was no miracle worker. If she didn't wish to talk then she wasn't talking. Simple as that. It would take a miracle -

His phone rang. Not the one that people called when they wished to speak to Lelouch Lamperouge. This was the emergency contact number he had left with only two people. Lelouch sat up, rubbed at the tingling and still sensitive area of his leg and answered the call.

"I'm here," he said, shifting his tone to become more authoritative, in control which was a welcome feeling after spending a few minutes in her irritating presence. "What is the problem?"

"You're not going to believe this," Ohgi began.

"Consider what we've been through tonight and then consider what I might be willing to believe."

"Right. Good point. I just had a visitor," Ohgi said. "Britannian. Stand user. I think he could either teleport or stop time." There was a drunken victory yell in the background that sounded familiar, yet impossible if Lelouch was recognising the voice correctly. "As you can hear, he rescued Tamaki and delivered him to my front door. It's strange. My identity has been compromised, but he hasn't taken any hostile action."

"Describe him," Lelouch commanded, his mind already racing through the myriad possibilities. A spy? "Did he leave a name? Did he give any explanation about what he was doing? What did he say? I need details. Now."

"His name was Joestar," Ohgi said. "He had dark hair, blue eyes a star on the back of his neck and fangs on either side of his mouth. He said something about saving the world and left a folder full of details about Stands. What do you make of it?"

A memory leaped to the front of his mind in a moment. A towering ominous figure leaning over a chessboard to pick up the white queen. The man rolled the piece around in his hand while staring him in the eyes as though judging the depths of his soul, and in the process leaving what he found less clean than when he'd first looked. "Lelouch," the man said. "Let me tell you about our greatest enemy. Some say that he is a terrible beast, a creature that feeds on blood…"

"Then you have little to worry about," Lelouch said. "Tonight, you had the privilege of meeting the one and only person that hates Britannia more than I do. We shall go over the details in person tomorrow night. If anything else comes up, contact me immediately."

"Problem?" C.C. asked while Lelouch's mind was already working around the new information. How he could use it. What level of threat it possessed. The nature of the threat. How to neutralise it. "It looks like your life is becoming an ever increasing string of complications. It won't get any better, either should you continue on this path."

And it was as if he had solved a multi-dimensional jigsaw with a single moment of insight. He had two problems to solve. So why not solve them by pointing one towards the other?

"Quite possibly," Lelouch said, turning towards the annoying witch. "But I fail to see why it's any of your business. After all, you are not a member of our organisation."

"I see," C.C. chuckled. "Trying to punish me for not answering your questions? How childish. You won't win me over that way."

"How very true," Lelouch conceded, but that was never his goal in any event. "Though I am curious about one matter. Is it true that vampires exist within this world?"

The reaction was exactly as he was expecting. No. Even better. She had been about to make the final slice of pizza vanish from this world without trace, but as soon as he said that word her expression completely changed and the pizza slipped from her fingers. As he expected. This woman was -

"Yes," was the suddenly stern and serious response to his query. "Is there any particular reason for that question, or are you simply fishing for information?"

"Oh, no reason at all," Lelouch said in what was the most deliberately obvious lie he could remember telling. "I was merely wondering what would be the best options ahead of me if, for example, a vampire called JOJO happened to involve himself in this situation. Purely hypothetical, nothing for a non member of the Black Knights to worry themselves over."

C.C. unclenched her fist and stared at the ruined pizza slice she'd grabbed hold of. It is likely she only noticed because the sauce burned her hand, but she wasted no time in cleaning the mess, quite obviously enjoying it even though her eyes were trying their best to form daggers to fire at him.

"So this is how you would have taken on the Empire," C.C. said. "Manipulation. Half truths. Deception on a grand scale and a personal one. At the very least, answer this question honestly: Did your minion encounter a vampire tonight and somehow escape unscathed?"

"That is his claim. You might also be interested to note that he might have a Stand."

"Then I shall join your rebellion," C.C. said. "After all, one can hardly leave vampires - particularly Stand using vampires - to run amok, and your organisation is less inclined to keep me prisoner than the military. However. My first priority is your sister's well being. Remember that."

"Of course." Lelouch grinned triumphantly. "That seems only fair. After all, we are accomplices now. Aren't we?"

At the very least… Until he found a weakness he could exploit. If this witch believed for a moment that he would let his sister come to harm or be corrupted or influenced by some immortal, if she had any intentions for Nunnally beyond what she had indicated then it was Lelouch's every intention to discover the limits of her immortality and push just a little bit further past them. Ripple be damned. Immortality be damned. Harm a hair on Nunnally's head or betray her in any way and learn the folly of your actions as you burn for it.

"I'll introduce you to the Black Knights at our next meeting. In the meantime… Let's start with what you know about Stands."

====Cornelia====

They called her the "witch of Britannia" for her prowess on the battlefield, but she knew that there was nothing supernatural about her victory. Take Area 18 for example, and why not? She'd just finished doing so. Shoddy machines, outdated tactics are too much for a home advantage to overcome against an enemy like Britannia. Attempting to scatter and hide? Restrict supplies to the region and increase control over the population. Whenever they tried an ambush, they soon found that they were the ones being surrounded. Whenever they tried to mount a defense, they tore right through it like it was tissue paper. Whenever they attempted an offense, they pushed on and tore through them like wet tissue paper. It must have seemed like magic to an outsider's point of view, but in truth it was anything but.

The Eighteens had assumed that they held all knowledge about the terrain, but Cornelia never went into battle without understanding at least a little about the enemy. Their history, particularly in warfare. Understand the enemy. Understand yourself. Then, half the battle is already over.

"Congratulations on your appointment as Viceroy of Area Eleven," said her older brother through the monitor connecting to the homeland. Second Prince and Prime Minister Schneizel was a difficult person to get any kind of handle over. There was no trace of irony in his tone, even though they both knew her feelings about that particular Area. Three of their siblings had now been claimed by its soil. What was more, she was being sent on the heels of a situation which made her establishment of Area Eighteen look like a walk in the park by comparison. "Doesn't it remind you of that old European fable about the Gordian knot?"

"As I recall," Cornelia said, settling back in her seat and smiling a little at the monitor displaying her brother. She considered her environment: Soon enough it would be the office employed by the Viceroy for the new Area. For now, her own private headquarters and nothing more. "That fable ended with the knot being cut rather than untied. Are you attempting to suggest I employ a similar solution?"

"If anyone could make it appear elegant, it would have to be yourself," Schneizel replied. "The perfect combination of careful calculation and raw fury. Nobody else can perform such a balance like yourself. The sight of you in battle is a truly spectacular view, more beautiful than any sunset"

Damn that smooth talker. He could talk a woman into eating her own head, never mind how impossible it was. "Please, don't tease me about this… Especially when I'm preparing to leave for Area Eleven."

"My apologies, but I am quite sincere. Your capturing of Area Eighteen was a splendid display. The Flash would be proud. She also excelled at that balance between fury and calculation."

The Flash. Marianne. Schneizel always did know just where to press to find someone's weakest point. His was the kind of mind that viewed every day conversation as a battlefield. Points to be scored, victories to be won, but in this case he was also doing something else. "Is this your way of telling me not to let my anger blind my actions?" After all, she employed a similar line of thinking on the battlefield: Let your opponent think that your good ideas are theirs.

"If you wish to interpret it that way, feel free to do so. Now, I believe it is important for us to turn our attention towards Stand Out. What does Britannia's Witch make of them?"

"Thugs," she replied. "They got a taste of power and let it go to their heads. It is likely that either they killed Clovis, or possibly one of these Black Knights did. In the case of the latter, Zero is the strongest suspect."

"A fair assessment, but keep an open mind until you see the evidence firsthand," Schneizel said. Cornelia agreed. She also intended to open the mind of whoever killed Clovis. A bullet should do the job rather nicely. "I agree with your overall impression, but have at my fingertips additional information. It appears as though our beloved departed brother was engaged in a secret experimental project, far away from the watchful eye of the homeland. His test subjects appear to have slipped their leash. How terrible for them to abuse their unique abilities in such a manner."

"You discovered that information rather quickly."

"Stand has intrigued me," Schneizel said. "It could prove to be the greatest threat the Empire has ever known, or a boon to our understanding of the universe that grants us existence. Furthermore, should we elect to remain ignorant then the people will panic and cause further undue loss of life. The only course ahead is to learn more information."

"So long as we are more careful than Clovis," Cornelia said. "It would seem that his experiments slipped their leashes. If only he had been more careful when meddling with this kind of power."

"Quite so," Schneizel conceded. "Though, I must confess that his behaviour had been rather… Peculiar in the last year. It almost reminded me of the stories from our youth, as though he had fallen under that person's influence."

That person… Of course, Cornelia knew who he meant immediately. The one and only thing that ever gave her nightmares. Encountering him. Face to face with JOJO. A being of immeasurable power. Once a man, and now something both more and less. Like all children she had grown up and discarded those stories for the fiction they had to be. Except now it was rather more difficult to do so. It was almost too easy to see someone like him existing now.

"No need to bring up such pointless ghosts from history," Cornelia said, banishing the images conjured by her young mind. "A trick by your mentor to keep you in line, turned into a running joke among adults."

"I apologise again," Schneizel said with a small bow. "You are correct, of course. There truly is no time like the present. Although, I should warn now that I may pay an unofficial visit to Area Eleven in the near future to take a closer look at the remnants of Clovis' legacy firsthand."

He's up to something. And he wants me to know that he's up to something. Always assume that if Schneizel tells you something he probably wouldn't want you to know, that he does in fact want you to know. He wouldn't let something slip without a reason behind it. A distraction, or a double bluff, or perhaps even both at once. Untangling his strategies would take more effort then removing the chaotic tanglement that was possessing Area Eleven like an angry devil.

"Very well," she said. "Do you have any further business?"

"Alas, I do not. If only I could spend a little more time in your company, but duty does beckon with great insistence. Good hunting, Viceroy. We shall talk again soon."

The message ended and the monitor grew dark. Cornelia leaned forward at her desk and lost herself in thought. So much was happening so very quickly. Stand. She had to find out more about Stand. Information was the backbone of any successful military operation, and precious little had yet been discovered. She was certain that her father knew something, but he would damn himself rather than lend additional aide to his children. He would hold the answers close to his chest, while demanding that they determine the truth for themselves.

"Princess Cornelia," Guilford said. He had been standing by silently during the conversation. Ever present, ever faithful. No doubt he had been biting his tongue until he could converse with her when she was not talking with her brother. Her loyal knight, and most trusted confidante. "What are your intentions for Area Eleven?"

"What indeed," she replied. "I have heard that Euphemia has rushed on ahead of us to investigate the situation on her own?"

"Forgive me for saying this, but she is harder to hold onto than an eel. I have doubled her guard three times now, and still she manages to slip away. It is only good fortune that has kept her from becoming directly involved in the skirmish."

"My little sister has a great deal to learn," Cornelia said. "How to escape from her security detail is absolutely not one of them. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't quite so worried about her becoming involved in the battle. She has too much of a sensible head on her shoulders for that. What I'm worried about is the aftermath."

"I do not follow."

"Consider the attitude of the people," Cornelia began her explanation, leaning forward on the desk and feeling the scowl on her face going all the way down to her boots. "In their eyes, no matter the outcome the military has failed them. They will see Stand as a military developed weapon that has been hijacked by thugs and turned against them. In the process making fools of the loyal military and threatening the lives of Britannians and Numbers alike. Stand Out's actions were predictable, if psychotic. A disgruntled and frightened population can react in any number of ways."

"I see," Guilford said. "Then you must work to regain their trust before their fear makes the situation worse. If anyone can accomplish this, I can think of no other more suitable than yourself."

"Really, Guilford? I can think of a few. We move to Area Eleven once I've had my meal."

As if on cue the door opened, and a dinner cart rolled in. Pushed in by a rather timid looking woman. Of course, there was a great deal of establishment still to be performed before Area 18 became a true and proper Area. More citizens to be brought in, a Viceroy to be established, local leaders willing to collaborate discovered and persuaded to do the sensible thing… But for now Cornelia was simply grateful for the meal. A hungry body does not assist a thinking mind, and right now the one thing Cornelia needed to do was -

"Die, witch!"

Cornelia's attention snapped up towards the woman who had whipped out her arms to fire a small length of cloth directly towards her. She rose to her feet, but not faster than Guilford dove into the cloth's path without heed nor regard for his own well being. The cloth snaked around his waist, then the woman began to breathe in a rather peculiar way that immediately caught Cornelia's attention. Guilford's body went limp in an instant.

"Allow me to explain," the assassin began triumphantly. "I am currently using an ability called Hamon to ensnare your knight. By using this ability, I can cause the cloth to paralyse his body, or constrict it around his throat. Rise to face your punishment! Or your Knight dies." Hardly much of a threat when she intended to kill them both anyway, but why not? Cornelia held her hands in the air and scowled at the intruder. "Witch of Britannia! You will suffer for the crimes you have committed! Against the people of this new 'Area' and others as well!"

"I'm sure," she replied, stepping closer, around Guilford's immobile body. To think someone with his skill could be incapacitated by mere cloth. Astounding. "Very clever. Using cloth as a weapon, so that the search wouldn't find anything. I'll have to remember that."

"You won't be remembering anything," the woman sneered. "You killed my family and countless others, simply because their homes were the most expedient route -"

"Sorry, I don't really remember that," she sneered. "What I do remember is that you're using a technique called Hamon to keep my Knight incapacitated." Oh yes. She was quite familiar with this ability. "Which if I remember from inferior foreign languages, means 'breath'. Oh yes. I know a little about this particular fighting style. For example:"

Now it was Cornelia's turn to use the would be assassin's own trick against her. A flick of the wrist, and a pepperpot flew from her sleeve. The top had been carefully slightly unscrewed when she picked it up, so that the sudden motion would send its contents flying freely through the air. The unexpected nature of this attack so caught the would be assassin off guard to the point that she didn't even have the time to make good on the threat upon Guilford before she sneezed, just as Cornelia had anticipated.

And just a sneeze was all that they needed.

Pepper is regarded as the oldest spice, so old that Ancient Greece and Rome used it as currency. It contains an alkaloid called piperine which acts as a tremendous irritation to the nerve endings of the mucus membrane! The reaction was inevitable: Ripple depended upon its user's breath. If it was interrupted, then they could no longer use the technique, and given its nature a sneeze would very briefly introduce an uncontrollable element even to a Ripple master's breathing. Even resisting the natural urge to sneeze would have the same result, so you could say that Cornelia's plan was rather less risky than it might first have seemed. This particular Ripple technique was being used to incapacitate Guilford, to keep him as a hostage, to keep her from acting rashly. That small interruption was sufficient for him to grab hold of the cloth and give it a hard enough tug that, by the time the assassin even knew what was happening her falling face was meeting with Cornelia's rising knee.

"You're not the first Ripple user I've defeated in combat," Cornelia said. The assassin crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Sprawled at her feet where she belonged. "Though you are the first we've captured alive."

Guilford rose to his feet and dusted himself down, then stared at the would be assassin with eyes of disdain. She was wearing a similar expression. All that power, and it doesn't mean anything if you don't know how to use it effectively.

"Take her somewhere and secure her for transport," Cornelia said. "It's about time we found out a few greater details regarding the operation of Hamon or Ripple or whatever they want to call it. Don't allow anyone to drop their guard for a moment."

"At once," Guilford replied. "I shall have a special mask and straightjacket placed on her to inhibit her breathing. Is it still your intention to depart for Area Eleven as soon as possible?"

"Naturally," Cornelia settled down at her table. "The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can resolve the myriad problems. There is also my sister, the sub-viceroy to be concerned with. You have your instructions."

Guilford bowed and departed with the prisoner leaving Cornelia alone to consider her thoughts. What should she do with Area Eleven? How should she contend with the people and land responsible for the death of three of her siblings? How should she deal with Zero and the Black Knights? What should she do in the face of the unknown power of Stand?

A small smile crept onto her face. She could think of a few things to start with.

====Kallen====

In her life as Kallen Stadtfeld, she had to adopt the body language of a person with much, much poorer health than she actually had. She had to pretend that at any moment she might collapse, as though any kind of activity was strenuous, exhausting and just barely within her limits. This could be quite difficult given that she was in just about the top physical condition that it was possible for her to be in, but today it seemed that the pretense truly was not necessary.

She rolled out of bed like a dead weight. Exhausted wasn't quite the word. She'd needed to use JJF as support just to keep herself steady. That battle last night had taken more out of her than expected. They might have won that conflict, but it didn't make sleeping afterwards any easier, especially with Ohgi calling her up in the middle of the night to let her know that Tamaki was alive, and by the way there's a Stand wielding Britannian vampire out there that knows all about the Black Knights. Or that might have been another nightmare, they all seemed to blend together.

Kallen left her room, just in time to see a maid falling off a stepladder. Her heightened reaction time automatically sent her Stand into action, steadying the maid and the ladder, even catching the cleaning supplies she was carrying.

"Again?" Kallen wearily sighed, slipping into position to pretend that she had been the one to catch the maid, hoping that nobody else had seen her instinctive reaction. It didn't look like anyone else had been in the corridor, and this particular maid was too scatterbrained to notice.

"I'm sorry," the maid, her mother said. "The stepladder broke. Thank you for catching me. Is your health improving that much? Are you able to spend more time making friends at school, now?"

"That's not any of your business," Kallen said, a little more harshly than she might have intended. "Get rid of the stepladder, and be quick about it."

"Yes, Kallen of course. I mean. Miss Stadtfeld. I'm sorry, I'll deal with it right away."

Complications. It felt as though her life was made of them. It was all giving her the worst headache when she really didn't need it. Kallen walked back into her room, got dressed and prepared to leave. Strictly speaking it was not necessary, being the weekend the school wasn't really open. However. It wasn't her intention to retain her cover as Kallen Stadtfeld. Not on this day. No. Kallen had other things on her mind just now. She could never tolerate being in this house any longer than was absolutely necessary. Her stepmother was as warm as a glacier and just about as pleasant to be around. Her birth mother was an embarrassment that clung desperately to her father, who was barely ever around due to business trips that kept her in the lifestyle that she only tolerated as a cover. Besides which. She had to talk to Ohgi and make sure what she'd been told last night wasn't actually a dream.

"Miss Kallen!" a maid said as she was walking downstairs. "You have a visitor. Miss Nunnally Lamperouge."

Sure enough, there she was in front of her Japanese maid Sayoko. Lelouch's wheelchair bound little sister, recently recovered from seven years of blindness. How terrible it must have been to open her eyes while everyone else around her was in mortal terror for their lives. Seven years… Around the same time that Japan surrendered and Britannia's brutality began. Was it some sort of portent that her eyes opened now? Kallen twitched a little, that was a thoughtless thought. Odd though. Before she would have dismissed any supernatural reasoning out of hand, but given that she had a spirit controlled by her will it didn't seem like it would be possible anymore.

"Hello Nunnally," she said, slipping regrettably into her sickly persona. "What brings you out here?"

"I'm doing Milly a favour," Nunnally said, picking up a folder she had left lying in her lap. "She was going to do this herself, but I could at least handle something like this and I can be every bit as stubborn as my brother if I have to be. Here, this is yours."

Kallen took the file and felt her back stiffen considerably. This was her school file. Her transcript all the way from middle school. She eyed Nunnally carefully. There wasn't much question that she knew. The last person that found out had tried to kill her.

"So," she said, tucking the file underarm. "My secret's out. You know that I'm -"

"Half Japanese," Nunnally said. "It's alright. Milly said she wouldn't tell anyone, and I won't either. Neither of us are the sort to think anything of it, but other people might be different. Also… There was another reason I wanted to meet with you today, if it's not too much trouble."

"That depends on the reason," Kallen said just a little bit warily. After everything that had happened to her lately, it was the most natural reaction to just about anything anyone could ask of her. It went back to that previous line of thinking. If the supernatural exists, then anything is possible. If anything is possible, then anything could be dangerous and you wouldn't know it until it was eating you alive. She watched carefully as Nunnally opened her mouth to speak - Then closed it almost immediately afterwards, smiled warmly and said something else.

"I wanted to take a look around. Would you like to join me?"

Before Kallen could answer, she heard a crash from upstairs and the sound of her stepmother's raised voice, which rather answered the question for her. She couldn't get out of there quickly enough and any reason was as good as another.

"Was there any place in particular you wanted to go?"

"Shinjuku," Nunnally replied. "Where the fighting was last night. I don't want to keep my eyes closed to all the bad things in the world anymore."

This much was an attitude Kallen could respect. Too often, Britannians seemed determined to close their mind to the fact that they were the root cause of suffering in the world. They sat at the top and judged every minor inconvenience as though it was some terrible crime against them. They lashed out, or more often lashed down. They swept all the unpleasantness and blame onto those that couldn't fight back. But not this girl. It wasn't hard to see why she would be like that. Her condition must have made her even more sympathetic. While she might have a Japanese maid, the aura between them was different from the normal professional relationship. It was more like… Friendship. Respect. A part of the same family. It was people like her that made it clear why Zero and Painted Black didn't want to fight all of Britannia. Because even if the system itself was evil, not all people within that system were necessarily evil. Fighting for justice from the outside in, that was the only way available to them.

The light of day made it clear that Shinjuku ghetto was little better off than it had been before. To Kallen's amazement, there were workers reconstructing in accordance with Clovis' last instruction. The people had yet to move back in, and honestly Kallen wouldn't blame them if they declined to do so. The ghetto had been the ground of two recent conflicts. It went back to her previous thinking: If the supernatural is real, then superstition gains greater grounding in people's minds.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Nunnally sadly said, staring at the ruins that had once been someone's home. "Why is all this fighting necessary? I still don't understand why Stand Out did this. Didn't they realise what they were doing was wrong?"

"Yes," Kallen answered. "I'm sure they knew it was wrong. But they probably didn't care. They had the power and they wanted to use it to advance. That's their take on the Britannian ideal." Though it did raise the question of whether the citizens of Britannia would learn what it felt like to have their necks stamped on rather than doing the stamping. "It's twisted and vile. If not for the Black Knights, things would have been so much worse."

"Oops! Was that your arm?" a voice called from nearby. "Soooo sorry!"

The sound of a scream pierced the quiet air of the ghetto, and before Kallen knew what she was doing she was already scaling the rubble to see the source on the other side. With her heightened reactions and the assistance of Jumpin' Jack Flash, an obstacle like this was as simple as walking down a garden path! Kallen peered down at the sight beneath her. There was a group of them. Five Britannians surrounding one Japanese man who was cowering on the ground and holding his arm. Despicable! The very sight made Kallen's blood simmer and boil.

"P-Please!" the Japanese man pleaded on his knees. "I don't know anything! I swear! I don't have anything to do with Stands!"

"Eh? What was that!" the leader sneered, drawing back his foot to kick dirt into the victim's face. "It almost sounded like an insect begging not to be stepped on. Doesn't that sound completely ridiculous, especially after we caught him running up a wall!"

"B-But I was just doing parkour! There was nothing supernatural about -"

"Oh, parkour is it? That sounds like the name of a Stand to me!"

Next to her, Kallen felt JJF manifest again. Those idiots thought a free runner was a Stand user? If he had a Stand, he'd have used it to clean their clocks or escape! Just another example of the Britannian superiority complex, pent up frustration being taken out on someone that didn't even remotely deserve it. However, before Kallen could rush forward to show them the power of a real Stand user a hand fell upon her shoulder, and she was quickly spun around to face Sayoko.

"Forgive my interruption," the maid quietly began. "But a physical confrontation will merely escalate the situation, especially if we act without thinking."

"So, what?" Kallen growled. "You want me to stay back and watch them beat someone for doing absolutely nothing wrong?!"

Sayoko smiled and nodded towards them, where Kallen beheld a sight that drew a chill to her breath. This bravery! It was foolhardy, yet commendable. What else could she call the sight of Nunnally, the wheelchair bound young girl setting herself in place between frightened bullies and their intended victim? An image, the very living essence innocence, harmless and defenseless deliberately putting herself way in between the lions and their prey. What else do you call that but bravery? But, no. There was more to it than that. Against a psychopath like West, he wouldn't have cared a single bit but for whatever faults and failings these Britannian bullies might have, none of their souls were quite black or twisted enough to push over a girl in a wheelchair. It was a gamble. It was a risk. It was working.

"Hey!" one of the bullies yelled. "Get away from that Eleven, he's dangerous!"

"If he's dangerous," Nunnally replied. "Then why is he bleeding and you are not? Why were you really attacking this man?"

"Tsk! Isn't it obvious!" another bully yelled. "The military isn't any good against Stand users, right? So we figured if the Elevens could do it -"

"Then you could take them on as well. Unarmed, without training or organisation. How courageous."

She used the sarcastic tone like someone picking up a sword for the first time, but that didn't make it any less effective. It make Kallen think of something Shirley had mentioned the other day about Nunnally's brother: Lazy but brilliant. There were shades of the latter part here with his sister as well, except… Either she understood human nature even better than he did, or even less. It was like the image of a jar, which could also be an image of two people kissing depending on where you looked. Either naive or brilliant, or perhaps both at once. But knowing Britannians it would only last so long before…

"So what?" another of the Britannians said, striding forwards with the obvious intention of walking right past Nunnally towards the victim. Next to her, Kallen could sense Sayoko tense up even more than she was, ready to pounce from the top of these ruins like a mother protecting her cub. "He's just an Eleven. A vanquished dog. Dunno what you're doing out here girl, but this loser isn't worth your protection."

"What Stand Out did was terrible," Nunnally said, wheeling forwards and to Kallen's amazement the bullies actually shuffled a little bit backwards, though the impression she had was of springs being pushed back and ready to strike at a moment's notice. "But if we counter terrible things with terrible things, then nobody in this world will ever be happy. Please, all of you; Stop bullying others."

"No way," Kallen whispered as each of the bullies seemed to completely lose all trace of motivation and slunk off without a word. "She just… Talked them down? Just like that?"

"Even her own brother underestimates her," Sayoko said. "Her kindness is without end, and her gentle nature is like a barrier you cannot pass. She has no wish for anyone in this world to suffer. That is why you should not worry about her revealing your secret, Miss Stadtfeld. "

"You mean that she won't tell anyone that I'm half Japanese?"

"Yes," Sayoko said, neatly rising to her feet and gently hopping off the ruins towards Nunnally. "She will also keep that secret safe without fail. I hope you recover from your 'illness' quickly."

Kallen blinked and watched the maid hop off down towards the ground, then slapped herself hard in the face when she looked down at the rubble. Stupid! Right in front of them! Still… Something like that wouldn't be enough to figure anything else out. And besides which. Somehow, Kallen didn't particularly feel like attempting anything against the seemingly harmless wheelchair bound girl that just talked off a bunch of Britannians out for a scrap. Even if she could win the physical confrontation in her sleep her conscience might eat her alive, and what kind of knight for justice would she be by the time she was done?

The only path available to her now was forward. The past could not, must not be changed. No matter how hard you try.

====Suzaku====

He was standing within an official room, ornate, traditional Japanese decorations adorning the walls. Samurai outfits that hadn't been worn in more generations than he dared to speculate, completely worthless against modern arms, though something did feel wrong about them. At the back of the room was a desk. Though it were made of wood it almost seemed to gleam like gold. The room seemed familiar, though he could hardly place it. Yet he also had this lingering feeling of familiarity. Almost as if -

"You forgot," said a voice that Suzaku absolutely did recognise. The chair on the other side swung around and he came face to face with his father, who sat there with closed eyes and a sword impaled through his chest. The same sword his subconscious had noticed was missing from the armour. "However did you forget about this? You took my life, and then forgot. For the sake of saving countless lives, you sacrificed your father."

Suzaku reeled backwards. It felt as though gravity had twisted around him ninety degrees, irresistibly pulling him away from the horrifying form in front of him. Perhaps this was the moment he knew it was a dream, but it mattered little: He still couldn't wake up and the nightmare was still going on against his own will with no signs of alteration.

"You forgot," the corpse said. Its eyes came open, and the room around them turned red as though it had caught fire. A peculiar light shone from those dead eyes. A light forming into a particular shape, though its meaning was entirely lost on Suzaku. "That's not like you. Why did you forget? What else have you forgotten? And why do you remember now?"

He collided with a presence behind him as the light's damning shape seemed to glow so bright that it peered into his very soul. Fraught with the greatest terror he could remember, Suzaku turned around to see who it was; A boy of perhaps ten years, with a high forehead and blonde hair longer than his body. The shadows of that terrible light shone on the walls behind him, forming the twin shape of birds, and the boy began to laugh…

"Wake up!"

It was the most welcome rude awakening in history. Reality had never seemed such a friendly place to be in, though the same could hardly be said for the nurse looking down on him with disdain. That's unfortunate truth about reality. Nightmares are terrible departures from reality because they are unpredictable, chaotic and frightful but once the dreamer gets back to reality they realise that everything was frightful in a more predictable and mundane manner. Perhaps that is why people dream, so that they can forget just for a little while how terrible their lives really are? On the other hand, it might be nothing more than the mind subconsciously rearranging itself, like a child reluctantly tidying their room. Everything was being stuffed under the bed, while hoping the parents didn't notice.

"Tsk," she sighed, leaving a small bowl full of pills next to his bed as though discarding a used handkerchief. "Don't get used to this, Eleven. You only got this room because of a special military request. They must think you're some special witness or something, can't see why else they'd want you taken care of. There's your painkillers. Do try not to choke on them, it would mean I'd have even more paperwork to fill in today."

"Thank you," he said, taking the painkillers with gratitude though his ribs weren't quite as pained as they had been last night. Last night… What an insane night that was. He barely noticed the nurse stalking out of the room as though she'd rather be absolutely anywhere else as he was lost in reflection on those crazy events. So much had happened in a few short hours. A promotion. An evil vanquished, but would the Black Knights truly prove to be any better? Vigilantism would not solve anything. It would be like trying to perform brain surgery with a pickaxe, whatever they tried using those methods would not be favourable to anyone.

"Eek!" said the woman inexplicably standing in the doorway. She looked lost, but quickly skipped into the room and pulled the door closed behind her. "They just don't know when to quit, do they?" she asked seemingly nobody in particular. The woman ran a hand through her bright pink hair, and at last seemed to notice him lying on the bed. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm Euphie! Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Suzaku," he replied automatically. His head felt like it was spinning a little. "Sorry, can I help you with something? Was there something that you wanted?"

"Suzaku…" Euphie gently said. She almost seemed to glide across the room as though across an ice rink, and peered over him closely as though inspecting his face. "Suzaku… Kururugi? Son of the former Prime Minister Genbu Kururugi. You were mentioned on the news last night. Congratulations on your promotion."

"Th-Thanks, I think," Suzaku said. "Kinda wish they'd kept my name out of it. I was only doing my duty. That's all. What about you? Who were you hiding from?"

"Bad people," Euphie said with a small twinkle in her eye. "I could really do with a celebrity soldier keeping me safe."

"As much as I'd love to oblige, I'm not in the best of condition right now. The most I can offer is a place to hide. Were you visiting someone in the hospital, or were you a patient?"

"Neither. Both," Euphie said. "I wanted to talk to the people that were injured in the battle last night."

"Don't tell me you're a journalist," Suzaku chuckled, and received a stern lecture from his ribs on why that was a bad idea for the time being.

"All right. Then I won't. " Euphie said. "No, really I'm a student visiting the Area. After everything that happened last night, I sort of felt as though someone ought to say something to everyone that was injured. Just to let them know that the world isn't so cruel as it seems sometimes."

"That's quite an odd way to spend your vacation time," Suzaku observed. "Most people would want to see the sights on offer."

"I have a few days left in my vacation," Euphie said. "Maybe you could show me those sights? Or maybe you'd prefer to tell me about what happened last night."

"There's not a whole lot to talk about."

"I disagree," Euphemia said. "There are certain kinds of pain that hospitals can't heal with medicine. The only way to let it out is to talk it out."

Talk it out? Where would he even start? Suzaku closed his eyes and drew upon his memories of the battle. "It was pointless chaos and destruction. Revelling in power simply for its own sake, without any care given for anyone else. They let their new power go to their heads and used it for their own amusement instead of helping people. They dealt out misery without a point, and all I could think of was how similar it felt to seven years ago."

Seven years ago. A seemingly unstoppable force leaving poverty, starvation, disease and death wherever it went. Implaccable. Invincible. He remembered walking alongside Lelouch (while taking turns carrying Nunnally) through fields which seemed to have more corpses than blades of grass. He remembered buildings collapsing. He remembered the sound of parents losing their children. Of children losing their parents. It was a hell on Earth. How easily it could have been a repeat of that. If not for the bravery of those few that put their differences aside for just one night to bring down a relentless evil that intended to enact a barbaric massacre without any seeming rational motivation, those fields would have been nothing in comparison.

"Nobody should have to live in that kind of world," Suzaku said through choked back tears. "There has to be a way to create a world without war. If only I knew how to do it."

Zero's methods worked. But they were beneath contempt. Manipulative. Illegal. It would inevitably result in a confrontation with the system, causing even more death, even more misery, even more conflict.

"My father died to stop the war seven years ago," Suzaku said, guilt nipping at his heels, images from the nightmare flashing at the front of his mind. "I won't let that be in vain. I won't allow it!"

"It's alright," Euphie said. She gently and playfully tousled his hair, and slowly retreated towards the bathroom. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise… Hold on, let me get you some water, I'll be back in a moment."

If he were perfectly honest, water did seem like a perfectly good idea right about then. He had no idea what to make of that girl. For one thing, he was pretty sure that she was lying about being pursued by "bad people". What kind of person would hole up in a hospital room talking with a patient when someone could walk in through the door at any moment to find her? She would be hiding somewhere in the room instead of staying out in the open, and certainly not making any noise. Besides which, bad people pursuing her through a hospital? Even in a corrupt state like Britannia that seemed like an ideal way to get caught. Still. She didn't seem to mean any harm by it. If only he could get a handle on her, why she was so interested in talking to him of all people.

"Hello, Pr- Warrant Officer Kururugi!" said another unexpected voice from the doorway. It was as complete a contrast as you could hope for when compared to his previous visitor. It was the kind of tone that actively pursued benevolence out of the air, tied it up in a sack and pummelled it with sticks and rocks. "Do you know who I am?"

"Sir Kewell Soresi," Suzaku said, about as cautiously as he could manage. "Sir, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I know it is difficult for an Honorary, but please don't play stupid with me," Kewell said, swaggering into the room while pulling on a pair of thick black gloves. If you looked carefully enough, you could probably just about see the word "menacing" written in the air behind him. "You know something. About Stand. About the Black Knights. About Clovis' death. Or maybe something! Your little act has even taken in the Margrave, you know! But not I! Kewell Soresi! The last true Pureblood!"

Suzaku instinctively sat up, but found himself struck hard in the chest with an extending cane that Kewell pulled out of his belt. A blow like this would normally have left Suzaku unhindered, the assailant learning what it was like to be spin kicked in the face and the cane probably broken. On this occasion, it was sufficient to leave him gasping for air as the pain pierced through the haze created by the painkillers and left him sprawling on his bed.

"Tsk, tsk!" Kewell wagged a finger. "Naughty boy. Can't let you interrupt your interrogation, now can we? You could make things much easier for yourself and talk now. What are you hiding? What is Suzaku Kururugi's great. Big. Secret?"

"I… Don't know… What you're talking abo-"

"I'm sure you'll think of something!" Kewell sneered. "Filthy Honorary! You look human. You act human. But you're not, are you? You're nearly human, and yet there you are! A hero of the battle last night, while we Purebloods are slandered in the media for events far beyond anyone's means to control! We're standing in your shadow and there's only one way out. If you won't talk, you die. Then again, maybe I'll kill you if you do talk. I haven't decided yet. After all, you have single handedly brought ruin to our organisation."

Madness. The man had lost his mind! It wasn't difficult to see, this was a person used to sitting on the top of his own personal little universe. And now? It was all being threatened. It wasn't a universe he was using as a throne, but a sandcastle while the tide called reality was coming in quickly. Suzaku's thoughts went to a different place than most people: He didn't much care if he died, but he knew for a fact that Euphie was in the next room. She had to have heard this tirade, and was staying quiet in the room deliberately. If she made any noise, then Kewell might be insane enough to try to use her against him, or perhaps silence her as a witness. Therefore, his mind was working on a way to neutralise this threat immediately. Not for his own sake! Only for Euphie's!

"You're probably thinking something like 'he cannot kill me in a hospital and expect to get away with it,' or something like that," Kewell said. Actually, Suzaku was pretty certain he had enough clout to persuade particularly racist staff to turn the other eye. "It's really not that complicated," Kewell continued, chuckling slightly as he spoke and pulled out an empty syringe, and the sight made the colour drain from Suzaku's face immediately upon seeing it. "I'm going to kill you and make it look like an accident by injecting this right into your veins."

There was a reason that any healthcare professional would tap any syringe about to be used and then press out a small amount of whatever it contained. This was not a wasteful procedure, nor was it some kind of test that the syringe operated correctly. Far from it. This was a lifesaving, utterly necessary action. The syringe Kewell was holding was not as empty as it appeared. It contained the substance those Doctors and nurses were trying so very desperately to ensure they did not inject into their patient. It was a substance that was typically quite harmless by itself but contained within a syringe became absolutely lethal.

Describing it as "an empty syringe" was a misleading way to phrase it. Empty implied there was a complete absence of matter within the syringe, but in most common usage empty means something else entirely. It means that only one kind of thing is present that is ubiquitous to the point you don't really think about it as a substance. A substance called "air". Introduce a bubble of air into a person's bloodstream, and the effects can quite easily turn very lethal, especially if it is large enough. The best case scenario was agony. The worst case an agonising death as it blocked the heart's ability to pump blood throughout the body. Turning a vital component to the body's survival into the means of its destruction! A medical incident known as an "air embolism"!

"All of you Honoraries are just the same," Kewell said, advancing menacingly towards the bed, shifting his grip on the cane to ensure it pressed hard into his injured ribs. "You are all little pockets of air trying to get into the bloodstream of our Holy Empire, so that you can travel to the heart and stop it. An impurity that will cause an embolism to our great society. You have to be stopped. And I'm. The one. To do it."

Several scenarios for a counterattack flew through Suzaku's mind. Kewell's intention was obviously to use the cane to strike him at range in the chest to keep him from moving while he injected the air into a vein or artery. It wasn't a surefire death, but from what he remembered it had a pretty good chance of working. What kind of monster would think of - First thing's first he had to take care of that cane, then get the syringe away from him. It wouldn't be easy given the condition he was in, but he had to at least try. For example, if he tried to use the bedsheet by kicking it - Suzaku's foot lifted barely an inch before something pulled it back into place.

"Something the matter?" Kewell chuckled. He tapped the cane on his legs, and Suzaku tried to pull them up or move them at all from the end of the bed. They wouldn't budge! Something was holding them in place! Kewell grabbed the sheets over his feet and threw them aside, revealing a pair of handcuffs restraining his ankles to the end of the bed. "I convinced a nurse that you were dangerous! They set this up as you slept! No escape, Kururugi! None of your fancy spinkicks can save you now! Accept your fate!"

"That's quite enough!" Euphie declared, standing in the bathroom doorway. Her tone and body language had undergone a complete and dramatic transformation. Gone was the playfulness, now she was all business. "Lower your weapon immediately. This is a place of healing, not barbaric murder."

"Oh look at that, a witness?" Kewell said, pressing his cane into Suzaku's chest. The syringe was emptied of air and tossed carelessly to the ground, allowing Kewell to use his now free hand to calmly pull out his gun and aim it backwards towards Euphie. "Please miss, talk again so I know where to aim. Maybe I will be able to get some information out of this Honorary after all. Before I erase this stain on our legacy permanently."

"Leave her alone," Suzaku spat. If not for the fact that he might hit Euphie, he'd have tried to grab the cane pushing him in the chest. Any sudden, careless move... "She has nothing to do with this."

"I will restore glory to the Pureblood legacy," Kewell said. "Once I'm done with you, I'll remove Jeremiah and Villetta. Yes, they never cared much for some of the tactics we employ. Refrain was beneath them, in their eyes. They didn't have the vision or the courage! Pure in name only! I see it now! We need a harsher standard for blood purity! I'll remove our shame and disgrace one by one before Princess Cornelia takes her post!"

"In the process causing your own membership to decline," Euphie said. "Time and again, the same thing always happens to movement dedicated to purity. When they face a significant failure they begin to turn upon their own members with stricter and harsher definitions of purity until they've eaten themselves out of existence."

"I don't remember asking you!" Kewell yelled, turning around to face her, and Suzaku saw a potential chance to strike… Which he didn't need to take at all, because tn the next moment the cane dropped out of Kewell's suddenly trembling hands. The fight and the madness seemed to inexplicably leave the man completely the instant he turned around. "But… But aren't you…?"

"Furthermore, threatening an innocent civilian of the Empire without just cause will certainly warrant an investigation," Euphie continued. To Suzaku's amazement, it almost looked as though Kewell was wilting, shrinking before his very eyes. The arrogant psychopath from before was being reduced to a puddle of nerves before his very eyes. Was this girl using some kind of ability on him? Who was she, really?

"Well hello there!" Lloyd cheerily called from the doorway, expertly intruding on his thoughts in much the same manner as he strode into the room; As if he owned it. "My, aren't we popular? Don't know what they were thinking putting you in a place like this when I could have taken care of you."

Cecile coughed politely. "What Lloyd means is - Isn't that Princess Euphemia?"

Suzaku blinked and rolled the word around in his head. Princess? Euphie was a Princess?

"No, I'm pretty sure that's not what I - My word, so it is! What an unexpected place to encounter Royalty. Is there anything we can help you with while we're here, your highness?"

Kewell made a strangled whimper that probably set off someone's car alarm outside. "Y-Your highness, forgive me! I didn't know you were - If I had the faintest idea - Kururugi! He tricked me! I would never dream of threatening - You have to believe me! I didn't mean it!"

"This man needs help," Euphie - Make that Princess Euphemia firmly but kindly stated as Kewell very slowly descended into the fetal position under the full gentleness of her gaze. The expression on his face could be translated as a request not to disturb him, he'd be there for quite a long time. "Please ensure that he is taken to the best psychiatric ward in the Area. Also, in anticipation of my sister's arrival I would also like to arrange for a full… What's it called again… Ah! An audit. I would like to arrange for an impartial audit of the Pureblood organisation's accounts."

"Well, there's no such thing as a truly impartial audit," Lloyd rubbed his chin. "After all, we all bring in our own little biases… And besides which, that's not really in my authority to order. However, I should be able to point you in the right direction, the Purists have stepped on more toes than an intoxicated dance instructor. It shouldn't be too difficult to find someone in authority itching for the chance for a quick peek at their books."

"By which he means I'll be spending tonight looking up procedures and contact details," Cecile said, and the truly remarkable part was she said it without any malice or frustration at all, but you could still almost hear her complaining about the lost evening if you listened very carefully to the tone of voice she was deliberately avoiding use of. "And… I think it would be better if you let me also arrange for the hospital staff to deal with him. It wouldn't do if he went missing, right?"

"My dear Cecile, whatever are you suggesting? I'm having enough trouble as it is persuading them to allow me the opportunity to autopsy those Stand Out members without also having to explain why I've abducted one of their Knights. I doubt there's much to learn from this specimen in any event… Better to just let the quacks have their fun wouldn't you say?"

"Suzaku," Euphemia whispered. "You work with these people?" He nodded a little bit mournfully. "There isn't enough sympathy in the world, but I will try to give it to you anyway. And then… I'll help you create that world without war. How does that sound?"

"Like I just woke up from the weirdest nightmare," Suzaku replied, collapsing back onto the bed. "And into an even stranger reality."

====Charles====

Not too long ago the leaders of the world had to rely solely upon transcripts written verbatim by others to spread the contents of their speeches across their lands. The only people that would hear them would have been whoever happened to be present at the time, which could change dependant upon the venue. In this modern age, matters had changed.

"We shall be broadcasting in thirty seconds, your Highness."

Technology. Progress. His only present audience was a broadcasting crew and their equipment, and one additional face which was the only one he could put a face to name. His trusted Knight of One, Bismark . Lights, cameras, microphones. All intended towards the singular purpose of projecting his majesty to all screens across the Empire so that his words could be heard by all of his loyal subjects. And his disloyal ones as well. The director counted down the last few seconds silently, and the light in front of him blinked on. His cue to speak.

"All men are not created equal," Emperor Charles zi Britannia began. "Some have towering strength, some possess dazzling wealth some are deformed and others lack the slightest trace of wit or guile. Birthplace. Upbringing. Genetics. Environment. Ability. Even identical twins are marked by inherent differences in their abilities, often beyond their ability to control. This is the reason that underpins all of human history. Differences in beliefs, appearance and resources are the chief cause of all conflict! It is to determine who is the better on any given day that we compete with sporting events, academic contests, gambles, games of all stripes and shapes! From this competition we push each other onwards to achieve higher and greater goals, improving society incrementally through competition and struggle!

"Equality is not merely wrong! It is fundamentally contrary to reality, human nature and the progress of civilisation! The very notion is an insult to our intellect and our great nation's prosperity! Both the European Union and the Chinese Federation have made attempts at equality, resulting in either political leaders governed by ignorant and short sighted voters, or an indolent and lazy society with no motivation to reach for tomorrow! Where their equality holds them back, our inequality pushes us onwards! We compete! We fight! We evolve!"

They would have heard such sentiments before. Hundreds of times. From him. From their local leaders. From their peers who understood his meaning and peddled his philosophy. However. That was not the purpose of this speech. It was to inform the people, to give them reassurance and comfort after their exposure to elements beyond their comprehension.

"In this regard, Britannia stands alone. While we acknowledge and embrace the irrefutable existence of Stands, the European Union would rather appeal to its voter base by claiming Britannia is engaging in an elaborate hoax. They would prefer their people remain in blissful ignorance and denial instead of confronting them with a potentially uncomfortable truth all to ensure their election chances.

"As for the Chinese Federation, they at least recognise the truth yet deign to play their own political games. They claim that Britannia must have been conducting inhumane experiments, and then lost control over the test subjects. They speak from a position of ignorance and demand we turn loose any information! As though we would listen to a threat of this nature! More lies, more deceit, more attempts at a false - failed - equality."

Damn those fools, anyway! Though he could hardly criticise them for their direct approach, it was clear to anyone with a distant and dispassionate perspective that they shrouded their real motives behind apparent bluntness. They wore masks, used code names and relied upon a power which inherently promotes secrecy, for should another Stand user discover the true nature of their power then it was as good as handing them a victory.

"In spite of their best efforts Stand Out have failed to live up to the Britannian ideal. Not only did their actions betray the Empire, they have forgotten a vital lesson to all who seek greater power than they currently possess. It is insufficient to wield that power! It is necessary to know how to use it! Yes, at present our comprehension of Stands is minimal, but this is no reason to allow irrational fear to guide our actions. We adapt. We change. We evolve. We learn. Consider how impossible the Knightmare Frame would seem a mere hundred years ago and realise that our understanding of the universe is forever striding steadily forward."

Accursed Stands. He knew too well that it was a power that should not exist within this world. He knew it was wrong. A glitch in reality. An aberration, a fault, a disease that served only one purpose: To make it harder to create a world without deception. To create a world where it was that much more difficult to make people truly understand one another had long been his dream.

"Britannia will fight ignorance. Britannia will struggle for the truth. Britannia will overcome, dominate and advance! Even the death of my son Clovis shows our unswerving commitment to progress! When the dust has settled, when it is time to write the books on history it shall be by Britannia's hand alone! All hail Britannia!"

The crew within the studio with him began to chant alongside him; An action that would be followed throughout the Empire. A resounding and proud, confident cry: "All hail Britannia!" The message had been delivered. The events of Area Eleven would soon enough become another talking point. The Black Knights? Irrelevant. Stands? A nuisance that they could now devote greater resources to investigating. Why, the more promising research teams might even be useful elsewhere.

This was what he meant when he said evolution to the masses. Adapt to changing circumstances to draw out whatever advantages you can. The rest would come naturally. Leave the trivial affairs to those designated to the task while he set about the more important tasks.

To begin with, it looked as though another conversation with Clovis might prove to be in order.

====Lelouch====

It seemed as though these days, he was going to have to contend with quite a lot of unfamiliar territory. Staring at his father's image as he gave a speech pronouncing and advocating for a philosophy Lelouch found, at its core, an abhorant aberration of scientific hypothesis and worldly observations that only served to make the world a harsher and crueller place rather than resolving anything? Old hat. He could feel the hatred bubble up inside and greeted it like an old friend. Planning and conspiring to overthrow that philosophy was similarly familiar. Pretending to be something he was not felt like a comfortable pair of shoes. Manipulating people? Second nature. Assuming a leadership position? A trivial concern.

"I wonder why my family wanted to meet with you," said the nervous wrecking machine pretending to be his girlfriend striding alongside him. Her usual energy wasn't present, which was understandable considering recent events. "Come to think, I wonder how they knew we were dating at all. I didn't mention it to them."

The magic word in there was 'dating', an area of life that Lelouch was aware of, how could one fail to notice, but he'd never thought to take part. He was peripherally aware of the general popularity he had among the female students at Ashford, but it felt like a problem best resolved by ignoring it. He was not the sort that dated. End of story. Until he needed to pretend to date in order to exploit -

Schizoid Man hovered in front of his face, rubbing its hands with manic glee. This thing, right here. His ultimate weapon and bane of his existence. Try to imagine what it's like being confronted with the manifestation of the subconscious desires of a girl with a significant crush on you. The experience is… Unsettling, and that's even before he killed Shirley's father.

"I expect that Milly told them," Lelouch replied. "You saw how excited she was." He stopped suddenly at the feeling of a chill shooting down his spine. Painted Black immediately whirled around his body, quickly scanning the surrounding areas. He made every shadow around him invisible, searching for the source of this feeling. This nagging feeling that had been following him around since he woke up.

"Something wrong?"

"It's nothing," Lelouch replied. "I was just wondering if she was following us." Wouldn't put it past her, to be honest. "It felt like we were being watched. It must have been my imagination."

No, it didn't feel like his imagination running riot. Lelouch was the kind of person that kept a close eye on his own thought process to make sure he was behaving rationally. There was something his subconscious was picking up that he was not. While one section of his mind carefully, discretely observed his surroundings in an attempt to catch it out another part focused on the problem at hand; Maintaining the illusion of a normal relationship with the girl next to him. He had offered the chance to walk away, and she had refused point blank. Was it because her feelings for him were that strong? Or was it because she too had been bitten by the beast of vengeance? Or, most damning of all, was it both at once? Ahead of him Schizoid Man flirtatiously winked. Somehow, even that didn't seem like a reliable source. He'd have to work it out some other ways, and meeting with the family might provide him with some greater insights into her motivation.

"Hello!" Shirley called as she stepped in through the front door of her home. Not the most grand building he'd ever set foot in, but certainly comfortable. The front hallway was poorly lit, which sent his suspicions flaring immediately. "Is there anyone here?"

"The next thing you say," proclaimed a figure standing tall and proud at the top of the stairs, "Will be 'Uncle! Stop embarrassing me with your tricks!'"

As he spoke, the man in silhouette dipped a finger into a vase next to him. The flower shot up into the air, striking the light switch and fully illuminating the dark room. The man gave a deep dramatic bow, allowing Lelouch the chance to see him properly. He was a large man with a beard completely covering his jaw. His skin was quite tanned, indicating he spent most of his time outside. This was Shirley's uncle?

"Uncle!" Shirley gasped, dashing upstairs with renewed energy taking two or three steps at a time to greet him. "Stop embarrassing me with your tricks!"

"Never," her uncle replied, tousling her hair. "An uncle's job is to embarrass their niece at every chance! Ohoh? Is that young man down there your boyfriend? Why don't you introduce us?"

The two of them made eye contact, and immediately Lelouch recognised the emotion. He could see it at any distance, and he was sure to respond to it in kind. Hostility. He'd encountered it many times before in his life, and knew all of the flavours very well. This was not the kind of hostility that is born from misunderstanding or not knowing a person. This was the kind given birth by "knowledge" of the person. It was not that Lelouch had slighted him by "dating his niece", but rather that he had "personally slighted" Shirley's uncle in some manner. What was more: He had chosen to greet them at the top of the stairs deliberately, so that he could stare down at Lelouch from a higher position.

"Oh, right!" Shirley said, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two of them. "Uncle Joseph, this is Lelouch Lamperouge. Lelouch, my uncle Joseph."

"Pleased to meet you," Lelouch said. His tone didn't even slightly betray the suspicions building in his mind.

"Yes," Joseph replied, his tone much the same. "Likewise. Shirley, before you go to see your mother… Please don't mention what happened to your father. We fear it might make her condition worse. I'd like to have a friendly chat with your new boyfriend while the doctors fill you in." Joseph descended the stairs without once breaking eye contact with Lelouch. Step by step, the closer he got the more the tension seemed to rise in the air. Same name as her father, was it? Well. He could only hope that wasn't some kind of omen.

"Alright," Lelouch said. "I was wondering what her family wanted to talk to me about."

Soon enough, the two of them were in a spacious living room staring each other down, and quite honestly it was quite the mismatch. This man towered over Lelouch. He could probably snap a person's spine with a hug, but the way he moved indicated that he wouldn't take quite such an obvious approach. Painted Black scanned the room on his behalf, for no other reason than that he could already tell examining his surrounding area was just as important as watching the man himself.

"I didn't realise her mother was sick," Lelouch cautiously began.

"Yes," Joseph said. He was standing in front of a desk with a lamp on it. Behind the desk was a window. The curtains were drawn as it was beginning to get dark. "The very same illness as my daughter, Holly! The very best doctors that the Speedwagon Foundation can afford are already examining them both."

"The Speedwagon Foundation?" Lelouch enquired, taking note of the bookcase on one side of the room and the mirror on the other, as well as the rug in the middle of the carpet portraying an image of Lady Justice. It felt like the image was staring into Lelouch's soul, but it was just the typical illusion provided in part by their position in the room. "I did not realise the Fenette family were so well connected." Indeed, an organisation with that much wealth and influence. Very interesting. What sort of connection was there?

"Of course not!" Joseph said. The menacing aura around him grew even greater. "If you had, you would have tried to exploit it just like you're exploiting my niece."

"Exploit her?" Lelouch said, wandering over towards the bookcase and running his finger along the edges of the books. "I'm afraid you've lost me. Would you care to explain what you mean?"

"Making use of her Stand," Joseph firmly replied. "For your own ends. My sister and daughter are dying, my brother in law who fought hard to gain my respect is dead. And now I find that my niece is being made into a vigilante by her mysterious boyfriend. Anything you'd like to say? Depending on what it is, I might have to kick your ass."

Lelouch responded by whipping around and threw the book directly into the bulb lighting the room, plunging it into comfortable darkness. Lelouch dove to the side and willed Painted Black to move in the opposite direction, intending to keep Joseph on his toes while he worked out what to do next. Leaving the room was not an option, for a closed door was the bane of the invisible. The best approach was to keep away. Keep him talking. Find out what he knows, how much he knows, who else knows. Several outcomes for this scenario became immediately present in his mind, and several of them were immediately thrown into the "last resort" pile. This had to be taken care of with tact and grace.

"Invisible in the darkness," Joseph chuckled, backing up towards the desk. "That's quite the Stand ability for someone as sneaky and underhanded as you are. Now I'm definitely going to have to kick your ass!" Another book struck the desk lamp from the side, knocking it over before Joseph could switch it on. As if Lelouch couldn't see what he was trying to do by backing up like that.

"Tsk tsk," Lelouch said through Painted Black. "I'd rather we chat a while in the dark if it's all the same to you. I don't respond well to physical threats."

"Excuse me?," Joseph said, cupping his ears in a rather unnecessarily sarcastic gesture. "Did I just hear a chickenshit voice in the darkness refuse his rightful punishment for putting my cute niece in harm's way? Really, mister shadow? Is there any point staying hidden away? You can't leave the room without exposing your position because the light in the hall is still on."

It was interesting the little things he was revealing without realising it. He didn't intend to go to the police if for no other reason than to protect Shirley. He knew about Stands. They were close to the Speedwagon Foundation. Asking him direct questions wouldn't reveal anything, but keep him talking, keep him saying things and he'll spill enough of his guts to piece together the rest of the puzzle.

"You should be grateful for my interference," Lelouch said, again through Painted Black. "Ask her what she tried to do when she first showed me Schizoid Man. Thanks to my influence, she has gained control over something that was driving her insane! Everything she has done, she chooses to do of her own free will! Yes… If anything, I am protecting her! Not exploiting her!"

Joseph's reaction was not what Lelouch anticipated. He was… laughing. Not the kind of laugh that said he found something funny, exactly. More a dark and menacing laugh, that was warning of imminent pain for whoever it was directed towards. It sent a shiver down Lelouch's spine. It felt just like… Just like he was being watched. The same feeling he'd been having all day! It must have been this man all the time.

"Not bad!" Joseph chuckled, inexplicably turning his back on Lelouch and staring at something on the desk. "However, the next thing you're going to say will be 'Oh no! Let me go!"

With a warning like that, what else could Lelouch do but will Painted Black to investigate. What was he looking at? His shadowy Stand drifted up towards the ceiling and stared down at the desk, which revealed to his horror ink spilled upon paper. When he had knocked over the inkwell, it had also spilled the ink. Somehow, Joseph had been able to use that ink to form a "map of the room", which had a small "X" mark corresponding to Lelouch's current location within the room.

"Oh no," he breathed. If his Stand could be used in similar ways to "acquire information", it would at least answer how he was able to - Something snaked out from underneath the rug and wrapped around his body. Vines. Thorny vines which scratched his skin and clothes. Lelouch attempted to call out, but could only manage a burbling "Let me go!" before something shot through his body and made the mundane task of speaking seem as impossible as climbing a sheer cliff face with no tools but your bare hands.

"Tsk, tsk!" Joseph wagged a finger. Out of his other hand was the source of the vines. Was this his Stand? It seemed to crackle with energy which matched the rhythm of his breathing. The same ability C.C. was using to - "The Speedwagon Foundation staff have been instructed to keep my niece busy upstairs, but it wouldn't do for you to call out and bring her down to see our little bonding session!" Joseph laughed, then like a switch was flipped turned deadly serious. "You say you're protecting her from her own Stand? Do you know what happens to someone that can't control their own Stand? It's what's happening to my daughter and sister at this very moment! It overwhelms their body and leaves them sick beyond even the most advanced medical science Britannia has to offer!" The switch flipped again. "So! Wanna try telling me something else I might actually believe?"

"Certainly," floated through the air in front of Joseph's eyes. He swatted at the words like they were a bad odour. "I sensed your niece had feelings for me, and when she revealed her Stand to me how could I help but use it to my advantage? I will use her up until she is trash, and then just like trash I shall discard her."

The reaction was exactly as Lelouch intended. Rage. This man had a barely checked hot temper, marked with a brilliant tactical mind that stood on the same level as his own. A rare thing, but a weakness is a weakness and he fell right into his own weakness just now. At the moment he's thinking "this boy's Stand can't attack." But he was wrong. Critically wrong in a way he could never predict. He inhaled, the "ripple energy" coursed through his veins into the hand projecting his Stand -

Then entirely changed course and flowed out through his feet, into the rug he was standing on which suddenly and harshly pulled out from under him.

Of course, a trip like that wouldn't keep someone like Joseph down for long. It was merely a distraction while Lelouch let the tension out of his muscles, and used the very slight give to climb out of the grip of these thorny vines. He was out on the floor, panting a little due to exertion.

"Oh! My! God!," Joseph said, staring around at the again seemingly empty room. "That was an interesting trick. You only said that to make me angry so I'd try to hurt you. Nice work!"

"That's right. I lied and you completely fell for it," Lelouch replied, extending his open palm in front of his face. "It was easy to play on your fears, then change the 'path of least resistance' by making parts of your body invisible to Ripple energy. However, in the interest of fair play I should warn you that I can also make it work the other way around!"

"Hellloooo!" Joseph sarcastically yelled through cupped hands. "As if I'm going to give you a chance. Before I was just messing with you. Now I want to see what you can really do."

Look at him. He was enjoying this. Strange. At some level so was he. He could see the wheels turning inside this man's head. "What is he up to? What is he going to try next? What's his endgame, and how do I prevent it?" A game of chess between two masters. Enthralling, but it was time for him to end this game. Then again, Joseph was certainly thinking the same thing. Which of them would prevail, and how would the game end?

With a tie, of course. A draw brought on by outside interference: The sound of Shirley, upstairs, screaming at the top of her lungs. Lelouch turned his gaze upwards and turned the ceiling invisible. While portions of the floor were too well lit for him to influence, the shadows cast within the room must surely give him enough of a viewpoint to see what was happening up there, and indeed it did. He could see… A man in dark clothes looming over what must be the bed. A woman, Japanese, holding a deck of cards. Could that be - Was it possible they were making a move against - That person reappeared so soon?!

Lelouch reached for the door and dashed out, quickly passed by Joseph. Both reached the stairs without saying a word to one another, but the understanding between them was the same: Concern for what was happening upstairs. Someone had managed to sneak into the house while they were fighting and who knows what they were doing up there? Lelouch didn't intend to simply rush right into the room without a plan, that was hardly his style. However, unless he had more information -

By the time they reached the room, Lelouch was gasping for air. He at least had the presence of mind to turn the light off and make the wall invisible for Joseph to see through before they rushed inside, but there wasn't much to be seen. The intruders were already gone. There was a woman lying on a bed, sleeping. Shirley and a few others were buried in the floor up to various different heights. Schizoid Man was trapped up to its neck, which said some interesting things about the Stand user that had attacked them. But the room itself was all clear so far as he could tell, and Joseph certainly would have the wherewithal to take note of areas in the room that he couldn't see.

In short: There was no reason for them to delay entering the room, so they did so. Lelouch a great deal more haggard than Joseph, but he did try to stumble with some measure of dignity.

"Is everyone alright?" Joseph asked. As if in response, Schizoid Man burst out of the floor, dashed over towards Shirley and made quite short work of the floor around her.

"What happened here?" Lelouch asked. No sign of injury. If anything, she seemed more shocked than anything else. "Did they hurt you?"

"There were two of them," Shirley said. "One of them was an Ele- I mean, a Japanese woman carrying a deck of cards. The other was European. He did something to my mother, touched her forehead and - The plants all around her body vanished!"

"They're gone now," Lelouch said, keeping half an eye on Schizoid Man. It appeared to be sulking. The image would have been amusing were the situation not so serious. They just took her Stand? "You're safe. There's nothing to worry about, right?"

"Ahem!" Joseph coughed. "Are the two of you serious about this knights for justice thing?"

"Eh? You mean Lulu already -!" Shirley replied, nervously looking between the two of them. Then she nodded. "Absolutely. We are completely serious." Strange. The fear in her voice wasn't quite there anymore. There was a much sharper, harder edge. "Uncle, I should have known I couldn't hide this from you. Then maybe you could convince the Speedwagon Foundation -"

"Yeah, yeah! Whatever! You know I can't resist a request from my favourite niece. Have your boyfriend draw up a list of reasonable stuff, and I'll see what I can arrange."

"To begin with?" Lelouch said, possibilities already alighting his relieved imagination. An opening had appeared, an advantage he could exploit. Yes, that's right. If he played on the family connection, made it clear to Joseph that he was the only one that could keep her safe, keep her stable… Things he would be doing already. So long as he did not push too far, too hard then he could easily make good use out of this situation. For her sake, they'd keep quiet. Draw them slowly under his web of influence… "How does a mobile base of operations sound?"

====Cornelia====

What mattered most in this world was power, and there were many ways that you could measure it. For Cornelia, it was simply a case of battlefield prowess. For others it could be different. As her father indicated in his speech; Some might have physical advantages. Some might be more intelligent or, as was the case with the people at the front of the assembly intended to greet her, it might be "position" that gave them power.

As soon as she set foot off the transport, all soldiers present snapped in a smart, practised salute. Approaching through the central column was the only truly welcome sight to be beheld. Her sister, sub-viceroy Euphemia. Unharmed. Smiling. Had a single hair on her head come to harm… But, there was no need to dwell on what ifs. Only the here and now truly mattered.

"Sister. Welcome to Area Eleven," Euphemia began. "I have performed a preliminary examination in anticipation of your arrival, and -"

"Sub-viceroy," Cornelia interrupted. "Please ensure you address me as Viceroy on matters concerning official business. In addition, you were not instructed to perform any kind of examination on my behalf. Your report shall be received later, but for the time being I must consult with the more experienced local authority." She nodded at the noble leading the procession and beckoned for him to approach. He did this with the expected toadying attitude, absolute subservience, all but bowing and scraping in an attempt to appease her. Sickening.

"It is an honour to welcome you to Area Eleven," the toad began. "The Britannian portion of the population is growing restless. We should immediately discuss the speech you will deliver to ensure they are kept calm and controlled during this time of crisis, at which point we may then discuss future tactics to resolve current affairs."

The very second he finished the sentence it was cruelly punctuated by the back of Cornelia's hand striking his face. Euphemia gasped, the toad reeled and collapsed to the ground. While he lay there floundering like a fish at the bottom of a boat, Cornelia reached into her holster, pulled out her gun and then with her other hand grabbed the toad by the jaw.

"Yow fighneff!" The toad turned the colour of mortal terror. So at least the part of his brain in control of survival instinct was still working. A promising start. Let's see what else was in operation.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to talk with your mouth full?" Cornelia smiled. "If I ask a question, simply nod or shake your head. To begin with: Do you know who killed Clovis?" Shake. "Do you have any leads at all?" Another shake. Oh dear. "What about Zero? Do you know who she is? Do you have even the slightest idea who she is? Have you even looked into these matters? Or have you only been trying to cover your own corrupt, lazy, senile asses?" Ah, there. Finally, that last one got a nod. A reluctant, tear filled nod but what else did she expect?

"Si- Viceroy!" Euphemia gasped. "Is this truly necessary?"

"Absolutely!" Cornelia replied. "He wanted to discuss our next course of action, but what he fails to understand is that I am not a woman that talks when there's action to be done. Nor do I suffer incompetence gladly, and oh dear the ineptitude on display in Area Eleven! I suspect that within the sub-viceroy's report, the word 'corruption' will count among the top ten most frequent words longer than three letters.

"You say the people are not content? Of course not! All you've given them are speeches about things that you don't follow up on. The only results they've seen are from a group of vigilantes primarily composed of Elevens and led by a woman wearing a mask. I'd be more worried if they were happy with this state of affairs!

"This is why my first actions as Viceroy will not be to give a speech to the population. Instead, I will move to crush the Black Knights, remove the corrupt elements of our own government and transform this Area into a satellite nation years after it already should have been made one!"

The gun was withdrawn from his mouth, and she forced the terrified little toad to clean it on his sleeve while he stammered and spluttered. "B-But how?" he asked. "How do you intend to fight Stands?! They're completely invisible to those without and wield unimaginable destructive power! Even our most advanced Knightmares -"

"Another sign of how worthless you are in this position," Cornelia said. She turned on her heels and stalked off down the middle of the column, paying no heed to the shocked reactions of those around her. "If you had the slightest piece of imagination, you would realise that the best way to play against a dangerous opponent is to set the playing field so that he can't ever win."

In that sense she was rather glad that Euphemia had taken the initiative like this. Any information she could possess about local affairs would only speed up her own operations. Zero was the key. She was the head. Cut her off and the beast would die. The people would trust in the military, and in the process they would be able to use their growing knowledge of Stand to their own advantage instead of being frightened by it. And once they knew that power, once they could wield that power as their very own -

All hail Britannia.

[To Be Continued |\|]

Stand Stat Sheet

Hermit Purple

User: Joseph Joestar

Stats

Destructive Power D

Speed C

Range D

Durability A

Precision D

Developmental Potential E

Abilities

Psychic Photography: Can create images of intended target at the time of use, typically by destroying a camera or similar device. This ability can also be used to form maps to locate something or someone.

Vine Whip: Stand manifests as vines extending from Joseph's hands. These vines may be used for any purpose a length of rope could also be used for, including Ripple transmission.