Code Geass is the property of Sunrise. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure belongs to Hirohiki Araki
Chapter 64: Knights of the Round
====Cecile====
Memory is a funny thing. We're defined by what we remember of the past. What we remember, what we forget. These things inform our actions and guide us in our decisions, thus creating new memories which will inform our future decisions in ways that we cannot safely predict.
From a purely scientific viewpoint Cecile was utterly fascinated by the idea of 'memory'. How did the brain sort it all? How could it summon up with vivid clarity an event that occured years, maybe even decades prior? Of course, questions like that had already been studied and analysed by scientists in the field. The question was purely intellectual on her part. Especially in light of her experiences with Villetta's power to intensify memory or even selectively erase it. She could hardly help but have an academic interest, even if her field of expertise was not, in fact, biological in nature so much as it was inclined towards engineering.
Ah, but listen to her ramble on internally! Especially when there was the far more serious issue of one the deadliest weapons of the modern world. Especially in light of where they were right now. That weapon being -
*click*
A digital camera!
"Miss Cecile. It is quite rude to photobomb," said the emotionless voice of the Knight of Six. Anya Alstreim. She then turned around while ignoring Cecile's frantically flailing arms and -
*click*
"Please Lady Alstreim!" Cecile begged, diving in place of that shot in the nick of time. "This is supposed to be a secure laboratory! Please do not take photographs in here! We've discussed this at length already!"
Anya looked at her for a moment. Then snapped a picture right in her face, blinding her with the flash. "How do you know we have discussed this at length?" she asked. "Is it something that you remember?"
"Vividly!" Cecile said, forcing herself to smile. "We've talked about it five times now already!"
"How unscientific," Anya said, turning towards Lloyd with her camera ready. Lloyd, being Lloyd, noticed her and smiled for the camera - while Cecile jumped in front of it again right as the camera flashed. "A person's memory is not a viable source of evidence. I would be accepting hearsay if I took your word for it."
"Do you remember me mentioning it before?" Cecile asked.
"My memory is even less reliable than others," Anya said. "Therefore, it does not matter if I remember or not. All that truly matters is 'tangible evidence'. Which is why it is very important that you do not interfere."
"You know, she makes a good point," Lloyd sang out. "A good scientist never discards physical records."
"A military scientist cannot risk any leaks!" Cecile countered. She lunged for the camera, but Anya pivoted out of the way and took a picture of something else that probably shouldn't be revealed to the public. "My Lady, it's a genuine honour to have you pay us a visit, but - Please! Stop taking pictures!"
"Oh?" Anya asked, snapping a picture right in Cecile's face. "Then you want me to completely forget about the fun times we are having together?"
Completely forget? The way Anya was speaking made it sound as if - As if she had some kind of memory disorder. Could it be...?
"If you have trouble remembering things, then you can always speak to Villetta Nu and ask her to - Gah! That's my Energy Wings data, don't take a picture of that!"
"Miss Cecile, please stop playing with the Knight of Six and get back to work," Lloyd instructed. It was at this moment that Cecile realised that the two of them were the ones playing. Namely, playing with her and making her stressed.
"Lloyd, what's that you're bouncing in the palm of your hand?" Cecile asked.
"Oh, this?" Lloyd hummed. "It's an SD Card. I took it from Anya's camera when she entered the lab. I could hardly let her save photographs of all our sensitive research, you know."
Murderous intent filled the laboratory. "She could still save the pictures to onboard memory!"
"Which is why she doesn't get it back until she's deleted it all," Lloyd explained. "Honestly, Miss Cecile! Do you really think I'd be so cavalier with our sensitive research?"
Right. Time for one of the few perks of this job. How many careers can you enter where you can put your boss in a sleeper hold when they infuriate you? Not many! Right? It's really cathartic to be able to do that! Right?!
"The work you are doing on Knightmare development is quite fascinating," Anya said, snapping a picture of Cecile throttling Lloyd. "Is this all towards a further upgrade for Lancelot?"
Almost without realising it the Knight of Six had stepped into an area guaranteed to get Cecile's temper down: Talking about her work! Within acceptable security standards, of course.
"Oh, well! After we saw what my theoretical Energy Wings concept could do in China, we knew we had to develop it as soon as possible," Cecile said. "Right, Lloyd?"
"My windpipe, Miss Cecile!" Lloyd rasped. Oh, right! She let him go and coughed into her hand. "Yes, as she was saying: It was quite a shock realising something that powerful could now rest in Rakshata's hands. Why, if she'd been able to find the blueprints for it then she might have even stepped far, far ahead of us in terms of development and design. And that wouldn't do."
Half a minute ago Cecile's frustration had manifested into an aura of intense frustration and fury. Here and now that aura was fully displaced by something much grimmer and darker, brought to life by Earl Lloyd Asplund.
"That wouldn't do at all."
If there was any one thing that could upset Lloyd - and that was not a large list - it was the prospect of Rakshata Chawla overtaking him in the field of Knightmare design.
"Oh. So that is why you're being so careful with security?" Anya said. "Very well then. To keep your security safe, I shall delete these precious memories of our fun time together." Anya tapped at her phone. Huh? There was something a bit different about the Knight of the Round all of a sudden. A weird gleam in her eye that wasn't there before. "Pardon me. I just received a vital text alert. I am needed elsewhere. Goodbye!"
Huh? Huh?! Just like that? The Knight of Six had come in, disrupted their work and was leaving? That easily? Had she only come here to make the life of one Cecile Croomy a misery? Was this all a game to her?
"What a charming young woman," Lloyd chuckled. She could throttle him. Again. "It's a shame that we can't quite replicate the energy wings yet... Still! Lancelot Conquista should be a marked improvement don't you think?"
"Thank goodness it's almost finished," Cecile sighed. Best to get back to work. "Although you are quite correct. Even this upgrade wouldn't stand a chance against something like the Guren S.E.I.T.E.N."
"Battle data is what matters the most." Lloyd tapped the side of his nose. "Mark my words, Cecile. It's nice to have some peaceful time to research, but unless we can take these results to the front line there's not an awful lot we can do with them. I hope we get into a nice nasty fight soon! It'll be so much fun to see how our new ideas fare."
Fun, he says? Blast it, Lloyd. That kind of reaction was almost childlike. She knew right away that Suzaku wouldn't thank you for hoping something terrible like that would happen. But there was one thing worse. Much worse. To the extent it left Cecile quite frightened beyond belief.
Namely, that there was a part of her that shared in Lloyd's anticipation for their next battle.
====Shirley====
It had been a while, but the streets of Tokyo Settlement were much colder and unwelcoming than she remembered.
"Good morning miss! Free sample of ice cream?"
"N-No thanks!" Shirley said. Alright... Maybe not cold and unwelcoming exactly. Ahem!
It had been a while, but the streets of Tokyo Settlement were much more stale and –
"Fresh fruit and veg! I defy you to find any at a better asking price!"
The streets were much less friendly and the people less -
"Do you need help crossing the street? I'll help!"
"Thank you dearie, that's very generous of you."
Shirley took a deep, deep breath. What does it take to get a good internal monologue going these days? She glanced up at Schizoid Man. It looked back at her and shrugged. Fine, whatever. It didn't matter too much anyway. She could go with a more honest direction!
It was a bit difficult for her to get a read on the situation. People were going about their business in the street around her, but their movements felt off in some intangible way. There was politeness, but it was forced. Tense, as though they were really thinking about something else.
A woman dropped a glove out of the plastic bag she was holding. A Japanese man walking by noticed, picked it up and said "Excuse me miss, you dropped –"
The woman then whirled around and slapped him so hard he fell to the ground. "Dirty Eleven, how dare you touch my things!" Then the woman looked at him as though realising what she had just done and ran off, wide eyed and terrified. It was like watching a rubber band snap. Everyone on the street tried to keep eye contact away from... everyone else.
Then everyone got on with their own business, lost in their own little worlds. Not so surprising as she might like. Lelouch had tried his best to ease the local Britannian mindset to be more tolerant of the Elevens, but you can't legislate racism no matter how hard you try. Even something like fear of Stand users could only hold it off for so long before -
There was someone following her. There was a time where such a realisation would have got her running around the nearest corner and desperately seeking help to deal with them. How times change.
She waited until they were close. Pretended to be doing some window shopping to help them get closer. Looked at her phone to have an excuse to slow her gait. Secretly, though she was estimating their distance. Waiting for them to get close enough for her to summon Schizoid Man and pound them in the face. Almost there, a little closer... a little closer and then -
Schizoid Man suddenly lunged forward and pulled the follower into a great big tight hug.
"Ah! Shirley! Not so tiiiiight!" Uncle Joseph yelled. This yell brought attention down onto the pair of them. Completely unwanted attention at that. This was not helped by the way Uncle Joseph was standing while being hugged tightly by Schizoid Man: Up on his tiptoes with his back arched.
"Eh...? What's with the way that guy is standing?"
"Maybe he's having a heart attack?"
"No, I think he's bothering that girl. Wait, isn't that...?"
Time to leave! Shirley grabbed hold of her uncle's hand and the pair of them dashed off down the street. Attention was the one thing she didn't want right now! Not when time was of the essence, she'd wasted enough already sneaking back into the Area!
Fortunately there was no shortage of cafes for them to sequester themselves into. They found a nice place at the back out of the way, somewhere they wouldn't draw more attention to themselves, which would be an impressive feat given her company. Shirley glowered at both Schizoid Man and Uncle Joseph.
"You should know better than sneaking up on a young woman like that," Shirley sniffed. "If I'd known it was you sooner, I could have reigned this troublesome thing in quicker."
Joseph scratched the back of his head. No apology, as usual. Instead he put his finger to his lips to shush her and looked around carefully. Eh? Had they been followed after all? She'd have seen something with Schizoid Man, right? With his left hand Joseph cautiously reached out to the table in between them and carefully, with the kind of touch usually used by someone disarming a bomb picked up the small spoon resting on the table.
Shirley watched with bated breath as the spoon was lifted into the air until it was parallel with Joseph's deadly serious face. Then he plopped it on the end of his nose and made a silly face at her.
She couldn't help herself but giggle like a little girl.
"Eh, eh, eh! Your uncle knows all your weak spots!" the man chuckled. It was true, it was true. When the mood took him to make her laugh he could pull it off without fail. Even something as stupid as this... No, especially something as stupid as this would get to her every time. "So? We have a lot to catch up on, and I don't imagine we have much time. Where would you like to start?"
Of course. As goofy as he could be Uncle Joseph always knew when it was time to get serious. There were a few topics she wanted to discuss with him, and she imagined he was much the same way. Where to begin...
"How is that Prince Charming of yours?" Joseph asked. Right. Using the name Lelouch out in public like this was bound to draw attention. "Is he behaving himself for a change?"
The tears welled up in Shirley's eyes before she even knew it. No. Come on now. You're stronger than this. Answer your uncle without causing a scene! Schizoid Man thrust a handkerchief into her face out of nowhere, and she grabbed for it before anyone noticed (she hoped) and blew her nose.
"I... I don't know," she said. "H-he was grabbed by someone and- and I don't know where he is right now! He could be halfway around the planet being tortured or even dead and - And!"
Joseph's hand fell upon her shoulder. As she'd thought before, this man was quite often less than serious but he was fully capable of reading the mood.
"Just now, you made me think of your aunt Suzie," Joseph said. "When I travel around the world, is that the expression she has on her face when someone talks about me? Thinking like that breaks my heart."
Suzie Q... It was difficult to imagine her ever being sad. She was such an upbeat and cheerful woman whenever Shirley had met her.
"Could you look for him with your... You know?" Shirley asked.
But her uncle sadly shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a series of pictures. "These are the only pictures I've been able to take ever since he reappeared," Joseph said. "Every time, it's a picture of him."
Him being... Jonathan Joestar. Joseph's grandfather. Shirley scowled at him. A vampire in the family. That stung a bit. No, rather it stung a hell of a lot. She might not have the same level of experience as her uncle or ...
That led her thinking process directly to one of the things she'd been meaning to discuss with her uncle, actually. Hopefully they'd have the time to cover it all.
"What can you tell me about C.C.?" she asked. "The two of you have met before. Right?"
For a moment there he was quiet. "Yeah, we've met," Joseph eventually said. "She also apparently knew my grandfather. Together they worked to defeat several dangerous va–"
"Can I get either of you anything?" a waitress asked.
"Ah! We're still choosing!" Shirley said, frantically picking up a menu and skimming it over. "Could we have a few more minutes please?"
"Of course!" the maid chirped, curtseyed and then off she went. Both she and her uncle watched the girl flit off to another table... though her uncle's gaze was lingering a little too long for her taste! Shirley kicked his shin under the table.
"Look again, and my next line will be 'Auntie Suzie, you won't believe what I caught uncle Joseph looking at!' Got it?" Shirley warned. Pretty much the one and only thing that could really truly frighten him. "So? About C.C.?"
"Tabula rasa," Joseph shrugged. "She's immortal, she can grant Geass, she's trained in Ripple and she hates hates hates the undead almost as much as she loves pizza. The only other thing I can tell you about her personality is that she doesn't like to talk about her past."
"Really?" Shirley quirked an eyebrow. "A master of cold reading, like you? Can't figure her out at all?"
"Hm... Well, I did sometimes get the feeling that she was being careful to hide her true self," Joseph said. "But even that might be an act. Her plans, her intentions, her goals, her motivation... Even I am at a total loss."
"She's a mystery wrapped in an enigma?" Shirley suggested.
Joseph let out a loud and hearty laugh on hearing that. "If that's all she was, I'd have solved her back then! That woman has a dangerous fascination about her. She's like a siren who lures men in. Even my heart wavered when we first met - which was a little before I met Suzie Q! Put that phone away!"
Shirley kept her eyes narrowed and slowly put her phone back on top of the table. Meanwhile, Schizoid Man pointed at its own eyes with its index and middle finger, then pointed them directly at Joseph, then back at its own eyes again.
"Honestly, why did you even bring her up at a time like this?" Joseph asked.
"Because she helped Le- Lulu escape," Shirley whispered. "The weird thing is, she was left behind and we were able to capture her. She's been surprisingly cooperative about the whole thing, and we're pretty sure she's answering our questions about the escape honestly."
"Really?" Joseph quirked an eyebrow and rubbed at his chin in deep thought. "That doesn't sound like her at all."
"More specifically: She doesn't know anything," Shirley added. "Although she's had a lot of very interesting speculation about what really happened."
"Take her suggestions with a pinch of salt," Joseph said. "She's one of the most skilled liars I've ever met. Even Eisedisi had trouble figuring out when she was lying."
Even so, the things she brought up had led to her next crucial point. Given how important this was, she had to get to it quickly. They had wasted enough time already.
"How have things changed in the Area since we left?" Shirley asked. "From what I've seen things are pretty peaceful, but people are extremely stressed."
"Yeah, yeah. That's the trouble," Joseph said. "There are basically two groups of people left in Area Eleven. Those who can't leave for whatever reason, and those too stubborn to uproot. With the way things have been, you can smell it in the air: Something big is coming down the pipeline, and folk want out before it hits the fan. Whether it's gonna be grandfather, you guys or some new supernatural stunt... If it's going to happen, it'll happen here. You should probably check up on your friend, Rivalz by the way. He's very worried about all of you."
A wince of guilt flashed across her face. Sorry, Rivalz. You're going to have to wait a little longer before we can all be reunited. It was likelier she'd see Princess Euphemia during this visit than you.
"Heck, would you believe I even got interrogated myself?" Joseph grinned. "Hohoho! It wasn't so bad! No need to make that face! I'm still a free man, aren't I?"
"H-Hold on, you were interrogated?" Shirley gasped.
"Yeah, yeah. You can thank that Prince's foresight for my freedom, too," Joseph shrugged. "Helping you guys out like that made me seem veeeery suspicious, apparently. So they questioned me at length, but then I showed them a video recorded by your boyfriend before I left. It made things clear: I was instructed to do this by Royalty, so they could hardly prosecute me for anything."
Well, that was a relief. Just like him. Of course Lelouch would see that possibility coming and prepare for it in advance. Sort of the same way that she was here to make sure things went smoothly when they -
"Really, it's nothing to panic over. It was fun in a way! I even got to meet a couple of Knights of the Round. They gave me their autographs after they were done! Hahaha!"
"W-wait a minute," Shirley said, trying to process that last bit of information. If he was interrogated by... Then didn't that mean they were... Here? In Area Eleven? "Which Knights of the Round interrogated you, exactly?"
"The two of you are ready to order now?" the waitress suddenly asked.
"In a moment," Shirley interrupted, leaning forward quite desperate to hear the answer to her query. That sort of thing was far too important, it could completely change their plans. "Uncle, which ones were they?"
"How rude, ignoring my question like that," the waitress interrupted. "Just like the common girl you really are."
On the corner of her peripheral vision Shirley caught sight of movement. Extremely fast movement. Furthermore Schizoid Man had moved automatically, grabbing hold of the spoon on Shirley's table and using it to deflect something. The girl slowly turned to her right to look at the waitress, and what she saw was...
A Stand. It was unquestionably a Stand. It was holding what looked like a rapier that was currently being deflected by the spoon being held by Schizoid Man. The Stand itself was wearing what looked like a classical fencing gear, except with extremely strange colours: Navy blue, with ridiculous padding over its shoulders. The chest was white with the yellow Imperial insignia emblazoned upon it. Around the waist and legs were golden coloured adornments that almost looked like additional armour.
Otherwise, it was the figure of a woman wearing fancy fencing gear replete with a silver mask that completely hid their face. And the Stand user was wearing a similar mask to hide their own features and hair, alongside a slightly too big waitress uniform.
"Oh my god!" Joseph yelled. "Who the hell are you?!"
"Me?" the Stand user said. She crossed her arms and laughed uproariously, a snobby rich laugh that felt a little too put on to be real. "I'm Lelouch's first love! And I'm here to eliminate you, commoner girl! You can call me by the name of my Stand! Flash!"
====Jeremiah====
In times where it is peaceful, the dutiful soldier must prepare for war. As surely as a battle has a beginning and an end, so too does a time for peace. To this end, Jeremiah was seated comfortably within Bedivere's cockpit ready for the end of that peaceful time. Whether it was brought to an end by his own hands, or those of his enemies it mattered not. For he knew far too well where the battle would take him. He knew far too well where his loyalty would take him!
The Forbidden Vermillion city. Seat of power for the old Chinese Federation, refurbished into a seat of power for the new United Federation of Nations. Also: the prison within which his rightful master Lelouch vi Britannia was being held.
"Lord Jeremiah, behind you!"
Villetta's warning came in the nick of time. Jeremiah was able to spin Bedivere around out of the way of the Guren's reach at the last possible moment. The crimson Knightmare lashed out with a crushing kick and when that missed followed through with its radiant wave arm, unleashing a blast at short range, too close for him to dodge or counter.
But in the small space between them, Lamorak shimmered into existence as it deflected the attack, bending the radiant waves around itself with its new and enhanced cloaking shield.
"Well done, Lady Nu!" Jeremiah roared, electricity crackling around him in the cockpit. "Now, I shall deliver the finishing blow –"
"Please don't use your Stand. This is still a simulation, remember?"
He grunted and calmed down. Very well then. Pulling out his Stand and firing a burst of real electricity would scramble the equipment they were using to simulate the battleground surrounding the Forbidden Vermillion City. They really needed to develop further equipment so he could practise properly - but never mind that. Relying on this power alone was a fool's game, the limitation imposed on him would force him to think of other ways to fight. In which case: So be it!
Jeremiah pushed Bedivere's modified land spinners into their new gear. Rushing around Lamorak's position while kicking up the dirt beneath his feet, this Knightmare was now capable of a brand new trick: By aiming its arms at its target, it could launch the debris, dust, dirt and detritus the Knightmare was kicking up from the ground beneath it, providing him with a never ending stream of ammunition! Within seconds the Guren was caked in a thick layer of dust, which would prove no problem unto itself - up until that massive, rapid quantity of dirt began to clog joints and ventilation leaving even the strongest Knightmare around completely vulnerable.
They moved in for the kill - and then the simulation ended. Jeremiah relaxed within the cockpit. "That went quite well this time," Jeremiah mused.
"Yes. This time the Guren didn't incinerate us with that silver claw."
Hah. Of course, neither of them had any delusions about it being that simple. "There's no way to be completely sure of how an enemy will react," Jeremiah solemnly said. "No simulation is fully capable of rendering an absolute reality."
"Not without becoming a new reality."
Yes. yes, that was true. You had to deal with that as well in one sense didn't you Villetta? Oh, he wished he could have been here to help her through those times instead of only arriving towards the end. She was his friend, after all. What good is a friend when they can't be there for you when times are difficult?
For that matter what good is a bodyguard who can't protect such an important person... or their children?
"What should I do, Villetta?" Jeremiah asked. "Should I request a transfer to Europe to assist in the search for Princess Nunnally, or should I stay here and hope for a chance to rescue Prince Lelouch?" Buridan's ass. Yet again, he was as the starved donkey trapped between two equal bales of hay. Which should he move for first? Which path was the correct one?
"You should go where your duty instructs you to go," Villetta answered. "Live your life the way you want to live it. Nobody else should do it for you."
Right, of course you feel that way. What was he doing? Waiting around for a chance that might never come? So long as the conflict in Europe raged on, the likelihood they'd commit forces to confront the United Federation of Nations was minimal at best.
"One more simulation," he said. Then he would request his transfer. Do his part to finish the war in Europe sooner, then they could devote their resources to seeing Lelouch set free. "This time, we take on Tohdoh over Mount Fuji –"
Well, that was the plan. But when he switched the monitors on it was not Area Eleven he beheld but a far more glorious sight. A gleaming white city elevated over forests, with a mountainous backdrop that put Mount Fuji to shame (at least, in Jeremiah's opinion). There was row after row of palaces atop this elevated platform, a marvel of engineering managing security, comfort and beauty that surpassed any other city in the world. It was awe inspiring. It was humbling, yet empowering at the same time. It was... It was!
"Pendragon?!" Jeremiah yelled. "What is this? I did not set the scenario to the capital!"
"Oh, sorry! That would be me."
The simulated factspheres detected movement. Very quick movement at that. Looking in that direction revealed that the former Purists were indeed not alone within this simulation. A new challenger had arrived. A dark blue jet screamed through the skies towards them.
"Lord Jeremiah, isn't that...?" Villetta began, but stopped as the jet flew over them both.
"Yes, it is!" Jeremiah answered. "The Knight of Three. Gino Weinberg!"
"In the flesh!" the Knight of the Round said. The blue jet transformed before their very eyes, unfolding the main body of the jet revealing arms and legs that had been tucked in. This was Tristan, the specially designed Knightmare for Gino Weinberg's personal use! "Sorry for interrupting your simulation but I got a little homesick. So? How about it? I've been aching to try out some new tricks against some more experience pilots."
"Sparring against a Knight of the Round...?" Villetta gasped.
"Very well! We accept!" Jeremiah couldn't turn down a request like that. A sculptor doesn't turn down the chance to watch a true master at work. A boxer would gladly take the opportunity to train with a heavyweight champion. In much that same vein, a Knightmare pilot of any rank being offered the chance to spar against a Knight of the Round should not turn that down! The opportunity to learn and improve was too high to pass up.
Gino chuckled."You say that like you'd have a choice. Be sure to bring your A-Game, I won't accept anything less."
They wouldn't win this. He already knew that deep in his heart. However! That was no reason to hold back an inch. When Gino Weinberg claimed victory in this simulated battle he would have to admit that even he was pushed to his limits.
To begin with, Lamorak turned invisible and Bedivere rushed towards Tristan. This was always Jeremiah's preferred route of battle. Test out your opponent head on to gauge their skill and then adjust your style accordingly.
"Real shame you can't use your Stand in this simulation," Gino said. Tristan pulled out its favoured weapon from the Knightmare's 'wings': Maser Vibration Swords shaped as polearms. As expected he was able to parry Bedivere's own swords with little trouble, pushing the two together at the hilt to form a much larger weapon while doing so. "We Knights of the Round have been quite excited at the prospect of facing a Stand in combat."
"Spoken like a true Knight!" Jeremiah grinned. Interesting. He was gripping that double ended polearm from the middle, rather from either end. This allowed him to use both ends with equal effectiveness, while sacrificing reach. "You've earned your position well. Now how about this?"
He hadn't the opportunity to test this in a real fight yet but he had been assured it would function exactly this same way in reality. Bedivere's special upgraded landspinners had been upgraded yet again, granting him a whole new gear to turn them to. What was more, a slight misspelling on a report had made it clear to him. The true name for this manner of attack.
"Land-Sinner!"
The wheels attached to Bedivere's feet began to glow violently, and so when its left foot lifted to kick Tristan in the side it brought a chunk of the earth after it. Therefore: While Gino's instinct was to block the leg doing so would not prevent the true attack!
That attack being... A bullet from Lamorak's rifle. He had called the name of his attack for two purposes: To draw Gino's attention to Bedivere's leg, and also to sign towards Villetta that this was the time to fire. Even with that extended polearm he would have no opportunity to block the attack.
Unfortunately Gino didn't even try to block it. Instead Tristan sheathed its polearms, transformed into a jet again and flew quickly into the sky above. The dirt, Bedivere's leg and the bullet all completely missed. That maneuverability! That speed! It was truly remarkable, beyond belief!
"Oh hey, I've heard about you." Tristan, still in jet form, suddenly opened fire on seemingly empty air with a pair of machine guns mounted onto its front. "Aren't you that chick who turned into an Eleven? Man! What was that even like?"
The bullets struck Lamorak, revealing it floating in mid-air protecting itself with its arms. "You knew about that?" Villetta asked, clearly embarrassed by the whole incident.
"You kidding?" Gino chuckled. Lamorak turned invisible again, then fired its slash harken from a whole new position. It didn't matter: Tristan still dodged it with ease. "Of course we've been reading all the reports coming out of Area Eleven. Better than the comic books they're writing up these days. Of course we all know about it."
Tristan turned back to its Knightmare mode, drawing its polearms and quickly advancing on a particular position, adjusting its flight path seemingly at random. Lamorak appeared directly in front of it, seeming helpless. Defenseless.
But only because Villetta knew she didn't need any additional defense. For Jeremiah Gottwald was also here.
Bedivere was in the air alongside them by now punching out with its land-sinners directly towards Tristan's centre of mass. The quick Knightmare was able to use a polearm to 'adjust' Bedivere's incoming attack sending it wide.
"Tsk, tsk! Gotta watch your back in a two on one fight," Gino said, sounding as though he was admonishing himself. Tristan drew back into a position where it could see both of them at once. "That goes for the two as well as the one."
Hmph! Bedivere threateningly revved its arm wheels while Lamorak turned invisible. Seconds later Tristan was struck by an invisible force.
"Huh?!" Gino grunted in surprise. "What the –"
Seeing his chance Jeremiah rushed in making sure Bedivere was using its top gear while he attacked. The trouble was that it was plain to see which Knightmare was quicker: Tristan's speed was ludicrous. It was like he was boxing his shadow! Each punch, each kick, they all went wide.
Not that it mattered because Tristan was still getting struck whenever it tried for a counter-attack. At first. After the third time it was struck Jeremiah went in for another attempt and Tristan quickly kicked away.
"Oh, now I get it! Slick trick!" Gino laughed. All of a sudden Tristan launched its slash harkens, both of them at once. And both of them flew right through the burst of air pressure that Jeremiah had been launching at him. "You had me all confused there for a second. Here I was thinking she'd been launching invisible attacks when it was you all along."
"A classic misdirection," Jeremiah agreed. But it seemed as though he hadn't seen through the second half of it. Still: He had to dodge away from those slash harkens if he was going to survive this trick of theirs. So he pulled away, hoping to draw as much of Gino's attention on him and away from the skies below them where Lamorak was lurking patiently.
Lurking and waiting for a moment exactly like this one.
Lamorak became visible without warning and tossed its cloaking device up into the battlefield, then shot the device with its 'light blinding' sniper shot. The light reflected and refracted rapidly within the cloaking device until eventually (though quickly) it burst out as a blinding scorching beam aimed squarely at Tristan. Even that Knightmare couldn't outrun light itself!
As it transpired; It did not need to. Tristan's harkens collided and revealed its final secret weapon: "Harken Cannon Buster!"
You see, the two harkens each held one half of a devastating energy cannon. When they collided like this they fired out a blast of energy comparable to even Shen Hu's baryon cannon. Even the mighty beam of light formed by Lamorak's cloaking device paled in comparison and was quickly dispersed.
"Look out, Lord Jeremiah!"
"Yes, I see it!"
But worse yet: The beam carried on and struck the cloaking device itself. The beam was scattered in unpredictable ways, forcing both Lamorak and Bedivere to dodge those attacks. Yet at the same time this was seemingly no trouble at all for Tristan to navigate through. Neither one of them stood a chance with their defenses down. The simulation came to a close with a truly crushing defeat.
Still: When Jeremiah left that simulated cockpit he was grinning ear to ear. Trembling, sweating, barely able to stand or walk. Smiling nonetheless!
"Woohee! That was fun! We gotta do that again sometime!" In contrast Gino left his own pod as though he'd finished taking a nice shower and finished up with a relaxing massage. "Anyway! I gotta head off to my new school. I hear it's across the street, which is super handy! See you guys around!"
Villetta left her pod last. Much as with Jeremiah, she looked as though she'd finished running a marathon. Unlike him, her brow was creased with concentration.
"Did you see, Villetta?" he asked. "The pride of the Empire on display! I had thought to leave for Europe, but if he is here at this time... " he trailed off on seeing the worried expression on her face. "Something trouble you?"
"How did he do that?" she asked. "Lord Jeremiah, I used the reflective surface of the monitor to compel myself to recall the fight in perfect detail, and I still do not understand how we lost."
"Hmph! Perhaps I should not be the one to say this, but sometimes you must accept a fair loss and let your pride take a beating."
"I don't think it was a fair loss," Villetta said. "At the end. When I threw the cloaking device. It was as though he knew where I was aiming to throw it before I did. His harkens looked like they were chasing you, but..."
"But?"
"They were following my eyelines," Villetta said. "Comparing their position to what I was looking at at the time, they were almost exactly following where I was looking."
Following where she was looking? Jeremiah frowned and began to consider the battle in more detail. At the time he had thought it strange, but in the heat of the moment he hadn't really evaluated it properly. Now that it was after the fight...
"How was he able to trace Lamorak's movements while invisible?" Jeremiah asked. "For that matter, he saw through my trick using air pressure as an attack, but not right away."
"Which means he's not reading minds. Is it possible that he has an ability...?"
Jeremiah shrugged. It didn't matter in the end whether he did or he didn't. "This might be the new trick he wanted to try out. In which case it can only be called a completely fair loss. We didn't even notice his trap until it was already too late to step out of it. Now, Villetta! We must learn from his example."
The concern vanished from her face. "Of course," she said. "In times of peace, one must prepare for war. I have a nasty feeling we won't have much more time to prepare."
====Euphemia====
Dealing with an Area's nobility is a lot like herding cats. Their natural behaviour doesn't incline towards herding at any rate, so why are you trying to force it into this pen when it would be much more fun to lie down on this hot tile? Also, the nobility demands food and attention in exchange for the privilege of giving it food and attention.
'You should set about rescuing your brother, you know!'
'It's disgraceful what they're up to in China. Who do they think they're fooling?'
'War in Europe be damned, we can't let those Numbers get uppity.'
'If we just reversed some of Lelouch's legislation, I'm sure we'll be able to whip up some higher productivity...'
"Meooow!" Arthur mewled underneath Euphemia's table, rubbing quite insistently up against her leg for attention. It was easy to see how her mind was split right about now. There was a great deal of paperwork in front of her today, and the cat was demanding food again. There were decisions to make regarding which company to provide government contracts. Matters regarding crime and security. Legal knots that needed her nod to get untied.
She'd brought it on herself, of course. Blame her kind heart, but she could plainly see how the others were doing their best to support her. It hardly seemed fair that they were working so hard that they didn't have the chance to enjoy their social lives, so she gave them all a strict command to let her take care of all the work today while they rest and unwind.
Hopefully the terribleness of that first decision was not a prelude to a line of equally bad decisions today. The Area might not handle it.
"Mroooowr!" Arthur rubbed up against her ankle with a great deal of intensity.
"Oh, you cute little thing," she cooed. Arthur leaped up into her lap. "I'll get you some food shortly... Although, I do have to wonder how you wound up in the Palace. Didn't Suzaku leave you at the academy?"
The cat responded the only way it knew how. By looking up at her as if he owned her, purring in much the same manner and using body cues to let her know that her master demanded pettings. What else would you expect from a cat?
"Pardon me for intruding, your highness. You have an unscheduled guest arrived."
"Normally I would see them, but please tell them that I am too busy to see anyone today. Unless it is an emergency?"
"No... But it is rather difficult for one in my position to turn down a Knight of the Round."
A Knight of the Round. Oh yes, those two. Euphemia had never interacted with any of them except for Lady Nonette and Sir Bismarck, so encountering these two in person had shattered her perception of what the most skilled Knights in the Empire were like.
"Which of them is it?" Euphemia asked. "Is it Sir Weinberg or Lady Alstreim?" The former, presumably coming to share some gossip he'd heard at the Academy. The latter, wanting to take some more pictures. Although, now that she thought about it this was a little strange. "This isn't like you. Normally you tell me the name of the person come to visit me."
"That would be at my request," a new voice called from out in the hallway. The Knight of the Round in question strode into the room with their head held high, a manner in his walk as if he owned the place. Which reminded Euphemia of a certain cat, which had decided to hide behind her chair the second the Knight of the Round entered the room. "I thought it would be more dramatic if we waited for my entrance. No objections, your highness? Glad to hear it."
"Sir Bradley?" Euphemia said. "My apologies. Had we received advance warning of your arrival –"
"This is a surprise visit," Bradley interrupted. Euphemia was taken aback. She was not used to being interrupted. "Technically speaking, I'm not here. Nor are my Valkyries on standby in case of an emergency. We're all in Europe, you see?"
Right. Of course. "Of course. You're in Europe just now. Although, hypothetically speaking, if you were here in Area Eleven instead then what might bring you out here?" she asked. The same general sort of question had been put to Gino and Anya. The answer was not satisfactory from either one of them.
"I might get bored of killing Europeans," Luciano said, though his tone implied it was something he might never get bored of. "So I might come here to face off against something a bit more challenging. A Stand user perhaps?"
"Well, if that were the case then you would be out of luck," Euphemia smiled at him. She didn't like using her fake smile, but something about this man drew it out of her. "There have not been any Stand attacks in quite some time."
"Since the Black Knights left, in fact," Luciano added. "My, my. Doesn't that seem suspicious?"
"What are you insinuating?"
Luciano made an exaggerated gesture, pointing at his own chest with a rather ludicrous expression of surprise on his face. "Who, me? Insinuate? Ask anyone I know, your highness. They will tell you that I insinuate nothing. It must be such a relief for you to talk to someone so straightforward and honest after having to deal with politicians and businessmen all day long. They're in the business of selling themselves - that is to say, lying to your face. While I am merely in the business of murder. Oh, forgive me. We don't call it that when it's a soldier on the battlefield. No, no your highness. I don't insinuate anything."
"In which case," Euphemia said, picking her words with care. "What is it that you find suspicious?"
"It's probably nothing," Luciano cooly answered. "Causation and correlation are often not connected, right? That's the first lesson of any statistical analysis... But having said that, it is strange, isn't it? That Stand attacks completely dried up as soon as the Black Knights left. Why, it almost makes it seem as though they were the direct root cause!"
"Subscribing to that kind of theory would leave one hanging on the edge of paranoia," Euphemia said. "It would mean that a group of people have behaved in a completely irrational manner for no consequential gain."
Luciano had this strange expression pass over his face while looking at her. Amusement? Surprise? She honestly could not tell. Ever since he'd come into the room she had been trying to get a read on him, but Luciano Bradley's presence was unlike anything she'd felt before.
"The Immovable Ladder of Jerusalem," Luciano suddenly said. "Have you ever heard of it?" As a matter of fact, Euphemia had not. "It is a wooden ladder that rests under a window over the entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre within the Old City of Jerusalem. Now, there's nothing physically preventing anyone from moving the ladder. It's not welded in place, nor stuck there by glue or bolted to the wall. But if you move it, then it would cause quite the headache for the locals."
What was this all of a sudden? Euphemia was so taken aback by the sudden change in conversation that she couldn't even find the words to object, and so Luciano continued, pacing around the room as he explained it in further detail.
"To keep it simple: The church is especially important for those of the Christian faith and has fallen into the equal ownership of six different denominations. As it is an equal ownership... Well, you've heard the phrase 'status quo is God'? None of the clerics of any order may make any alteration to the building without the express permission of the other orders. All of them must be in agreement before anything can be done. Even something as simple as moving a ladder is not allowed unless all six agree to it."
"That is very interesting, but hardly germane to our conversation," Euphemia said.
"Isn't it?" Luciano asked. "Once, a cleric was sitting on the roof. He moved a chair to be in a more shaded area. Within hours a riot had broken out among the six clergy. A gathering of Holy Men from a pacifist's religion, engaging in violence over something so petty as a moved chair! That's the true nature of humankind right there, your highness. Irrational. Violent. Move a ladder from its spot and you raise the risk of people getting hurt or maybe even killed. When the tragic truth is that they've cast aside their reason for pride. Otherwise they'd see the truth is: The most important thing in the world to them is not the position of furniture, nor their religion. It is their very own life."
"I find that view of human nature quite cynical and appalling," Euphemia said.
"Oh? You disagree on the value of a person's life?" Luciano smiled at her like a shark. "Or do you feel that those men of God have good reason to raise their fists in anger if a ladder should be moved? Do you find sense in the idea that the church they venerate so much has fallen into disrepair as they cannot agree on how it should be renovated? I find that approach far more cynical."
"Thank you for your opinion," Euphemia said. "Now, I would like you actually address my question: Why are you in Area Eleven?"
Luciano grinned and stepped away from her desk. "I came here to meet someone," he said. "The little sister of Princess Cornelia. I wondered what kind of person she was. Imagine my surprise to find her a spoiled liberal. Goodbye for now, your highness. By your leave I have other business to attend to."
She didn't say anything else, but waited until he was gone before slumping in her seat. That conversation had been exhausting. Still... His sudden departure right then was a bit troubling. From that conversation she could easily tell that he was the kind of man who lived to stir up trouble wherever he could find it.
In point of fact, she felt rather certain: He'd memorised that fact about the immovable ladder expressly so that he could one day move it, burn it, and watch the riot from afar for his own personal amusement.
She reached for her phone. If the Vampire of Britannia was in the Area, she would have to move swiftly. Someone like him should not be allowed to wander a tense location like this unsupervised. The first call failed to pick up, so she tried again with a different number.
====Rolo====
For all of his life Rolo had been in the spectre of death. He walked in its shadow, much as he walked through the unusually empty halls of Ashford Academy even then. He had ended more lives than he dared to count, and yet... how was he supposed to feel about this?
The news had only now come to him through secret channels: An unknown force had attacked the current base of operations of the Geass Directorate. They had moved quite often. He'd rarely been at the current base. Perhaps twice in total. Even so... how should he be feeling right now?
Scientists he'd worked with: Potentially dead. Other Geass bearing children he'd had a hand in training, who looked up to him as a big brother: Potentially dead.
Was he... supposed to feel something from this? Why then? Why did his thoughts continue to wander whenever he tried to think about it? Why did he keep on returning to his thoughts on the mission at hand rather than analysing the implications this might have on that very mission?
Perhaps it was the fact that this was, without a doubt, the single strangest mission that Rolo could remember being on. Technically he'd already failed it: Several of the subjects of his protection had already been grabbed by an enemy now known to be Jonathan Joestar and his Paladins. Yet here he was. Wandering through the rather emptier than normal corridors of Ashford Academy, still assigned here even though he only had one subject left to protect.
"Yo, Ronald!" that very subject yelled, rushing towards him with that usual carefree smile. "There you are! You're not gonna believe this, but we got a transfer in!"
"A transfer in?" Rolo asked. "How peculiar. Most students have been transferring out of late."
"Don't remind me!" Rivalz slumped his shoulders. "I mean, on the one hand it's making all the admin work for the clubs pretty easy, but... Man, I preferred it when the school was a lot livelier. It feels so dead around here, you know?"
Oh yes, he certainly knew about that. Less people around made it a much simpler task to have Rivalz monitored discreetly in case something happened. However... That attack on the Palace was the last major incident of note within the Area.
And dear reader, did you notice? Rolo's thoughts had completely drifted away from what he had been thinking about before. Without him even noticing it. Even an assassin must grieve in their own way in the end.
"Hey, what's with this oppressive atmosphere all of a sudden?" a new voice yelled. A student stepped around the corner. Of course, Rolo recognised him on sight. Any Britannian would: The Knights of the Round were celebrities in their own right, after all. Gino Weinberg, Knight of Three, walked right up to Rivalz and Rolo, then got a little too close into their personal space for Rolo's liking. "Come on, is that the kind of first impression you wanna give your new fellow student? Hi, I'm Gino! I'll be attending here from now on. And so will Anya once she's done doing... whatever she's doing."
"Sorry about this Ronald, but do you mind showing him around?" Rivalz asked. "I gotta head out on an errand, Anya asked me to pick up something. I shouldn't be long."
Rolo frowned. "Strictly speaking, I should accompany you if you're leaving campus –"
"Oh, that's adorable!" Gino interrupted. "Your little buddy's worried about something happening! Hah, try to relax a little. Now that Anya and I are attending we've got our special security team. I'll have them keep an eye on you from a distance while Ronald and I hang out."
Hrm...? That was a frivolous use of his 'security team'. All for the sake of 'hanging out' with Rolo? For a Knight of the Round to do something like that... No, in the first place a Knight of the Round coming to Ashford was strange in and of itself.
"Be sure to help him out, okay?" Rivalz said, giving Rolo a very obvious knowing wink. "Be sure to investigate as much of the school as possible. Got it?"
Of course. Now things made a lot more sense. A Knight of the Round had no need of this level of education, they were already set for life. Therefore Gino must have an ulterior motive for coming here, and why else would he attend this school if not to facilitate the investigation into the attack on the palace? Rolo was uncertain what he intended to find here - but it was not his place to question his superiors.
"Very well then," Rolo bowed. "Sir Weinberg, please follow me."
"Hey, hey! Enough of the Sir Weinberg! Right now I'm your fellow student!" The Knight of Three then put his arm around Rolo's shoulder as though going for a headlock. "See you later, Rivalz!"
"We should begin with the assembly hall and move out from there," Rolo suggested.
"Nah, I'd rather see the swimming pool if it's all the same."
The swimming pool? How was that relevant to the investigation? There's nothing unusual about the pool at all... That Rolo was aware of! Of course. A Knight of the Round working on this case would have much higher security clearance than him, how foolish of him to be so concerned about those kind of matters. Of course Gino knew what he was doing.
Five minutes later, Gino apparently knew that he was doing a breastroke.
"Hey, Ronald! Don't you have any swimming gear? The water's great!"
"No, no! I wouldn't want to get in your way!" Doing whatever it is you were doing. From a professional viewpoint Rolo had to assume that Gino knew what he was doing, even if Rolo himself did not. Despite that his mind could hardly help from analysing the situation. There must be a clue within this swimming pool. So, why was he - what was the phrase Rivalz liked to use? - goofing around when there was work to be done?
After a moment the answer came upon him. The Ashford swimming pool was generally open for use, besides hours reserved in advance. Perhaps Gino had intended to investigate while he was alone? Looking across the pool, Rolo could see that there were a trio of girls doing backstrokes at the deep end. Of course. With those civilians present the Knight of the Round could not get his investigation done.
"Sight for sore eyes, huh?" Gino whispered to him. Now he was climbing out with a strange smile on his face. "You have good taste, kid. Just so you know, my target's the one with the bright red hair. Always had a soft spot for redheads."
His... target? Rolo's gaze narrowed down on the redhead in question. Charlotte Jenkins. Daughter of a military family. Aha! Now he understood a bit more clearly. Her family must have some undetected connection to the attack on the palace, and Gino wanted to use her as leverage over the girl's family.
"So? Got a favourite out of the other two?" Gino asked. "Come on, why don't you hit on one of her friends, whichever one that you like."
This confirmed it within Rolo's head. He wanted a hit put out on one of the girl's friends to make it clear that they were serious. This is how an assassin thinks and view the world. They are like a tightly coiled spring, fully capable of ending a life at a moment's notice. All they need is an instruction from a superior and then that life's thread will be cut without mercy, but also without cruelty. Only cold and clinical professionalism.
"You want me to do it here?" Rolo asked. Confirming his instructions was also a vital part of the process.
"No, no! Not here little buddy!" Gino shushed him. "It'll be better if we do this outside the pool. You don't have the right tools for the job yet, right?" Technically true. Rolo had a number of concealed weapons about his person.
"Wouldn't the pool itself be an effective weapon?" he asked.
"Dummy! That's the worst thing you can do in a situation like this!" Gino hissed, hauling Rolo into the changing room. "No, no! It'll be much better for all involved if you give her flowers or chocolates to butter her up first."
Ah. Poison was not his preferred method, but he did have some experience with it. For the time being there wasn't much to do besides wait for Gino to get dressed. So he considered the parameters of the mission in more detail.
Killing a student within the school grounds was quite easy for the likes of him. He could use his Geass to freeze everyone in place, ensuring there were no witnesses at all. Which was a little confusing, come to think: Surely Gino knew about his Geass? Why not have him use that to the same effect? Why did he have to use poison?
"This is a dangerous approach," Rolo warned. "It will be very obvious who is responsible."
"Oh, the shy type huh?" Gino chuckled. "Listen buddy, you want to get anywhere with a girl you have to swallow that shy bug and head on over. Have a bit more confidence in yourself!"
Right, of course. His ability was more than enough. He'd be able to ensure that girl was dead before anyone knew what was happening. Though he was a little confused about Gino's intentions and the background behind this case, once a target entered Rolo's sights then they were already as good as in the grave.
"With all due respect, who do you think you're talking to?" Rolo asked. "She won't know what hit her."
"Attaboy, that's the spirit!" Gino said. "I bet the prospect of talking with her is making your heart skip a beat."
"Not yet," Rolo said. Of course. His Geass. As expected he must have been briefed on its operation. A little strange he had been told that it stopped his heart while in use, but..."Only when I'm close enough. Once she is within my frozen time, she won't stand a chance."
"Frozen time?" Gino asked. "Huh... Never heard it called that before. There's something poetic about it."
"I'm still a little confused about how you want me to do this," Rolo said.
"That's okay, that's okay!" Gino said. He reached into his bag and pulled out... a bouquet of flowers? Impressive. Being able to carry that in such good condition was no mean feat. "I was going to use this myself, but I think you'd be better off with it."
"What am I to do?" he asked.
"Easy! Walk right on up to her and offer her these flowers. Then you say 'I tried to find a bouquet that matched your beauty, but the challenge was too steep'. Then you wait a moment and say 'sorry, Gino told me to say that. It was kind of cheesy, wasn't it?' Then you introduce yourself and start talking. Things should go smoothly from there."
A complicated mission. Right, right! That was all preamble to get close enough to use whatever deadly weapon was in those flowers. What was it? A poison seemed likely. No obvious delivery method - perhaps it triggers when the stems are squeezed or the petals sniffed? Maybe there are thorns that inject something? No, Gino would not be handing it over so casually if it were something like that?
"You're sure this will have the desired result?" Rolo asked.
"Posi~itive!" Gino sang. For whatever reason he pushed back his cheeks as if trying to make his smile go back further. "If you do as I've said everything will go swimmingly!"
By the time he realised the truth it was already far too late for Ronald Longston to turn back the demands of fate. In the springtime of his life, this was the story of how an experienced assassin wound up with the harrowing, nerve wracking experience of asking a girl out on a date for the very first time.
In his honest assessment, killing her would have been more fun than seeing her blush like that.
====Suzaku====
When one thinks of a typical Japanese shrine, what does one think of? There's a certain style to it, is there not? An asymmetric gabled roof. The elaborate gate at the bottom of a set of stairs. The long pathway surrounded by stone lanterns. It creates a distinct and nostalgic image of Japan, does it not?
The fact that Britannia left several such shrines intact throughout the Area is what gave Suzaku hope. They hadn't completely erased Japan's culture. Suppressed it? Perhaps. But there was still hope. That hope had been enough to pull him up, making him think of the best way to change things for the better. Change things from within.
Thoughts like this flew through Suzaku Kururugi's mind whenever he visited the Kururugi Shrine. The place where he met those two. Lelouch. Nunnally. His dearest friends in childhood. But standing here at this sacred family ground he was left to wonder if he had ever understood them at all.
They were not the only ones that he had met here for the first time. Master Tohdoh as well used to work here as his tutor in sword fighting. And so Suzaku set about it. Where others come to shrines to pray to a God or divine entity, he only knew of this ground as a place to live, a place to play and a place to train. Bokken in hand he ran through his routine with a seamless smoothness making each stroke, each parry and each thrust seem as natural to him as breathing.
He knew this ground. He knew his routines. But did he truly know the people in his life?
"It's polite to introduce yourself when you come to someone else's home," Suzaku said.
"It's also rude to make a demand of your betters,"
That was a woman's voice. An unfamiliar one. Heavy Britannian accent. She stepped into the room and stood at ease in the doorway, looking at Suzaku as if he was something she'd scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Light brown hair, sky blue eyes. A girl even younger than him. He'd estimate about fourteen to sixteen years old, or thereabouts. Even so: She was standing there wearing a smart blue uniform. Britannian military. A Knightmare pilot. Valkyrie squadron.
"My name is Marika Soresi," the girl said. Soresi? "I see you recognise the name. You knew my older brother Kewell. Is that not correct, Suzaku Kururugi?"
"Yes," Suzaku said. "I knew him. Though not at his best."
That was a polite understatement. The man had not reacted well to the existence of the supernatural, nor of Suzaku's fortunes in facing them. He was a Pureblood, but far too rigidly caught up in that ideal that it wound up destroying him. His mind had deteriorated, and then his body had started to as well. What would have happened to him if Lelouch had not set him against Mao? Suzaku was a brave man, but not brave enough to want to know the answer.
"Well, I came here today to meet the Honorary Britannian that drove him into that disgraceful descent into madness," Marika said, fixing him with her clear blue eyes. They narrowed a touch. "So far, I'm not impressed."
Suzaku felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't intended to send a man into a spiral of madness. If he had known he would have done whatever he could to stop it, but by the time it was even possible for him to know there was a problem it was already far too late. In truth there was only one reasonable analysis, that the fault lay with Kewell more than it did Suzaku.
This was not what Marika would want to hear. For that reason he said the thing he thought she did: "I'm sorry."
"So you should be, lousy Eleven," she sniffed. "To think my brother died because of someone like you! To think that the likes of you could even become a Knight... Maybe there's more to you than meets the eye? I doubt it, but let's find out."
She reached down to her scabbard and pulled out a large wooden sword. It looked heavy, but from the way she was holding it maybe it was lighter than it seemed. There was something about it that was ticking away at the back of Suzaku's mind, but he couldn't quite grasp the shape of it.
"In my experience the best way to get to know someone... is to fight them. Why don't we spar, Sir Kururugi?"
"Fighting is a terrible way to get to know someone," Suzaku said, but he shifted his weight to draw his bokken up to eye level. "I find it hurts much less if you talk with them. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that you were really after an excuse to give a Princess's Knight a bloody nose and get away with it."
"If you weren't a Princess's Knight, I'd have given you a bloody nose for that cheek alone."
Is that so? Well. this looked to be an interesting clash in styles. Marika was holding that bulky wooden sword in a single handed grip while her other hand was behind her back. In contrast, Suzaku was using a double handed grip with a stance born from kendo roots.
East versus West. Japan versus Britannian styles of sword fighting. Kendo versus fencing. He wasn't sure he approved of 'getting to know him by fighting him,' but from the gleam in her eyes he was pretty sure he wasn't leaving the shrine without a fight.
"I don't want to fight you," Suzaku warned. "Your brother went mad because he became obsessed. Don't walk the same path."
"Concern from the Eleven?" Marika asked. "How touching. Don't worry. This is a one time deal. I'll make sure of that."
She moved forward first, thrusting the tip of her wooden sword directly for his chest. Easily parried, but she quickly righted it to strike again. As expected, this style focused on speed rather than strength. Force your opponent onto the back foot with a relentless assault. Don't give them time to attack because they're too busy defending.
That was fine for Suzaku. He hadn't intended to fight to win. Instead his goal was to get her to let off some steam. Beat her too quickly and all that would happen is build her frustration. Let him beat her too easily and she'd resent him for not fighting back.
That was Suzaku's plan of attack. That is, until the third time their wooden swords clashed and he noticed something odd. A strange sound that should not have been there. When the fourth strike came down he did not move to parry but instead pushed back against her, forcing the girl to step back from the sheer difference in strength between them.
"Have you ever heard of 'Corking'?" Suzaku asked. Marika didn't answer. Instead she huffed and rushed in once again, but this time Suzaku was taking her quite a bit more seriously. Instead of letting her lead the attack he responded with his own speed. "It's a term used in baseball."
"Oh yes, you Elevens are fond of that sport for some reason," Marika interrupted. Suzaku saw a chance, and immediately disarmed her. But Marika deftly caught her wooden sword in her other hand and continued fighting without missing a beat. So, this is the level of skill a Valkyrie has? "Can't you learn to like something more sensible, like cricket?"
"Corking is when a player cheats by hollowing out their bat and filling it with cork," Suzaku explained, heedless of her interruption. He brought his sword down to strike her head, forcing Marika to raise it and use both hands to shield the blow. "Usually it's done to make the bat lighter, but in this case it seems to be the opposite. Your sword feels heavier than it should and makes a funny noise when I strike it. There's metal in there, isn't there Marika?"
"And... also... here!"
OUt of the corner of his eye Suzaku saw her lift her leg with the blatant intention of kicking him in the stomach. On reflex he jumped back. On seeing her foot in full he felt glad of his instinct. A concealed blade in her shoe! He really couldn't take this spar lightly at all!
In which case he had better end it. Suzaku reached to his waist and pulled out a steel ball holstered there, spun it deftly in his hand and threw it at Marika, aiming for her hand as she rushed to close the space between them. Curiously, she made no effort to dodge. Her sword was still thrust out in the typical fencing pose as though the ball wasn't any problem at all.
"One point six one eight oh three..." she suddenly said, then lifted her thumb and pressed a concealed switch on the wooden sword's handle. To Suzaku's surprise the wood began to spin around at the same rate his ball was, but in the opposite direction. The tip of the blade struck the ball at full force. The ball stopped. The wood shattered. And Suzaku's expectations were left completely flat footed.
He had expected there to be a blade or a metal pole of some sort concealed within Marika's disguised training weapon. Instead it was something else entirely. It was a drill. A spinning drillblade!
The ball suddenly shot back towards Suzaku, now spinning in the opposite direction to the way he had thrown it. Unbelievable! He was barely able to catch it after that!
"You call that Spin?" Marika asked. "Hah! The Italians I fought last month would think that was an insult. This weapon was specifically designed to counter Spin. So stop holding back and show me what you can really do. You owe my brother's memory that much for the way you ruined his reputation and life!"
She rushed in to meet him again, this time even more vicious than before. Again, Suzaku moved to block but this time he learned that this was not the best move when your opponent is using a drill weapon. The spinning sides of the drill carved into his bokken a little at a time. If he kept on doing that he'd have no weapon at all!
"You shouldn't blame me for your brother's fate," Suzaku said. "He stepped onto that path himself."
"And you didn't do anything to take him off it!" Marika countered. Suzaku instinctively recoiled at that, feeling a wellspring of guilt kick up: There was a sense that she was right. That he should have noticed the madness and done something to pull him off... But then he remembered. By the time he could have possibly noticed it was already past the point of no return.
Besides which it was no good wallowing in guilt about the things he could have done. Instead it was more important for him to think about the things he still could do!
Suzaku shifted his grip and began his counterattack. Marika seemed startled by his sudden burst of speed, but didn't let it overcome her battle instincts. She jumped back out of reach of his blow and took up a more defensive posture. "Maybe I couldn't get him off that path," Suzaku said. "But I can get you away from it."
He moved for a disarming strike, but she moved just barely enough to catch his wooden sword with the edge of her drill. Marika didn't say anything. She fixed him with a cold stare and switched on her drill. This time it didn't only dig in to the sides of Suzaku's bokken. This time the rapid rotation of the drill pulled on it, hard! She was trying to disarm him this way? But Suzaku was more than strong enough to hold onto his weapon.
Then he looked at her face again, and realised that she was depending on that strength to do worse than disarm him. In holding the bokken steady he hadn't negated the force that was trying to pull it from his grip. He had returned it to its source. The drill itself was now being pulled in the opposite direction - down towards Suzaku's hands! On realising this Suzaku let go of his bokken immediately, and it was sent flying. Though not for long. With her spare hand Marika caught it and then aimed both directly at Suzaku.
"So this is all you can do?" Marika scoffed. "I'm disappointed. I expected more. Are Stands this easy to fight as well, or were you just lucky?"
"It takes both luck and skill to survive a battlefield," Suzaku replied.
"Perhaps they should be in a golden ratio?" Marika suggested in a mocking tone. "Do you even know what that is? It's the guiding principle of that fighting style you try to ape." She moved forward with both swords - then suddenly stopped and tried for a kick, forcing Suzaku to jump away. "Spin! A steel ball, thrown so its rotation mimics the Golden Spiral."
Left with nothing else to defend himself, Suzaku pulled out his steel balls and set them spinning. One in each hand. Just in time as well, as her blows with both weapons came crashing down on him.
"Do these words make sense to you, Eleven? Or is this level of mathematics above your head? Are those balls spinning on instinct, or do you properly understand the Golden Ratio? This lousy imperfect spin - no wonder you sent my brother's life into a perfect spiral of despair and madness! Where the Golden Ratio represents beauty in nature, your spin represents everything that is inferior!"
Her attack was relentless and filled with fury. At some point she suddenly thrust her drill sword forward, forcing him to 'catch' it with the ball in his hand. The two contrary spins collided and sent them flying apart.
"I'll stop that imperfect spin with my own two hands," Marika warned him. "Eleven. I'll show you why you don't deserve to be a Knight. Your Princess will be in much better hands with you out of the way."
Was that so? Suzaku drew himself up straight. "I'm perfectly willing to die," he said. "But for the right time and the right place. Killing me won't bring your brother back, and it won't make you feel better either."
He didn't wait for her response. Instead, he threw his steel ball as hard as he could. Marika seemed amused by this and thrust out her drill sword to intercept his incoming attack, fully intending to negate its Spin with total confidence.
Total confidence, up until the instant she noticed that the ball had no spin applied to it at all.
She jumped to the side and the ball flew past her fast enough to cause a breeze. "He threw it with nothing but strength...?" Marika thought aloud, then realised that she had taken her eye off her opponent. Not for long. Perhaps a second at most. In that second Suzaku had crossed the distance between them with a startling jump. His knee connected with the side of her head sending her sprawling to the ground, whereupon he was able to disarm her and point his bokken squarely at her throat.
"Let this be enough," Suzaku said. "I don't want to kill you. Nor do I want you as my enemy. Please, we are on the same side. There shouldn't be any reason for us to fight!"
"Are you really going to take that from an Eleven, Soresi? It barely qualifies as a human being."
That was a new voice, and it sent a frightening chill down Suzaku's spine. It was uncanny. He'd completely masked his approach right up until the moment he had spoken, and now it was like his presence was everywhere. A sadistic, threatening presence that could not be ignored. Suzaku turned to look and found himself looking at a tall, thin man with auburn hair. This man reached into his yellow cloak and pulled out a knife that he threw directly at Suzaku's head. He caught it out of the air, but the stranger didn't seem to care at all.
Why should he? Suzaku released Marika and knelt on the ground. "Sir Bradley," he said. "I did not realise that the Knight of Ten was visiting Area Eleven."
"For what reason would I have to inform a mere Honorary Britannian of my movements?" the Vampire of Britannia answered. "Marika, I'm disappointed. Picking a fight with him like that? He's just an Eleven. You should reserve something like revenge for a fully developed human being."
Luciano Bradley. Oh yes, Suzaku had heard of this man. The Knight of Ten was renowned for his cruelty and barbaric treatment. Had he used the word sadistic to describe this feeling? It wasn't nearly strong enough. This man had a disdain for the lives of others. A random stone that Suzaku might pick up off the ground had more empathy than this man, at least according to the rumours he had heard. Meeting him in the flesh it was easy to see why he gave that impression.
"Please forgive me, Sir Bradley!" Marika knelt before him as well. "I wished to know what sort of man drove my brother to his fate. I hereby accept any punishment due to me."
"Any punishment?" Luciano tutted. He reached down and tipped up her chin to make her look up at him. "Now, now. You shouldn't promise something like that. I might decide to take away that which is most precious to you. After all, not only did you challenge him but you lost to him as well. Someone that could lose to an Eleven might not have a place within my Grausam Valkyrie Squadron."
The insults towards Suzaku himself were like water off a duck's back. Being ignored didn't affect him in the least. Perhaps this tells of the kind of man that Suzaku was, where he could become annoyed at a man for berating the woman who had tried to kill him.
"Sir Bradley!" Suzaku said. "There seems to be a misunderstanding! Just now, Marika Soresi and I were sparring. As she had never fought a Stand before, she thought it would be useful to fight someone with experience at combatting Stands."
"Really now?" Bradley chuckled. He then turned to face Suzaku and - It was hard to describe what happened next. It was as though someone had opened up the top of Suzaku's head and started pouring in liquid dread. He started feeling sluggish from his feet on up. "A lie like that is quite unbecoming of a Princess's Knight. Here's one of my own."
The Knight of Ten pulled out another dagger and set about rubbing the dull side of it against Suzaku's cheeks. "While out on a stroll, I happened upon a truly frightening scene. Suzaku Kururugi, the Knight of Princess Euphemia li Britannia was assaulting one of my subordinates. It was a sneak attack that completely caught her off guard, the only way that a Number knows how to fight properly."
Suzaku's hands were trembling. What was this feeling? It was as if he'd looked in a mirror and seen the grim reaper steadily reach out a hand towards him. It was strange. So strange. Every breath Suzaku took, every beat of his heart. His pulse, his blinking, the countless automatic processes the body goes through that are so constant they become like background noise. He was keenly aware of all of them at once.
"Of course, I was fortunate enough to interfere. I saved Marika from the wild, rabid Eleven. It should go without saying that it was within my authority as a Knight of the Round, imparted by the Emperor himself, I executed my duty."
There was no question: He was using some kind of ability on Suzaku. That must be it. Maybe... something like Kewell's? Something that interferes with a person's 'survival instinct'? He should move. He should defend himself before Bradley followed through on that effect. Or maybe he should flee. No. No! Either way led to death! Either Bradley would take advantage of his confused state to slip by his defenses, or he'd throw the knife into Suzaku's back! He could see these fates as clear as day!
"What's it going to be, Kururugi?" Luciano asked as if sensing Suzaku's internal turmoil. "Fight or run away?"
"That's quite enough, Knight of Ten!"
Euphemia. The sound of her voice filled Suzaku with such relief that he dropped to his knees. Then again it might have been Bradley releasing his hold. Whatever power that was it had left Suzaku in a cold sweat.
"I heard quite enough just now to know what has really happened," Euphemia said, quickly stepping in between Luciano and Suzaku. Looking around, Suzaku could see that Sir Gottwald was standing nearby as well, watching the scene with a careful eye. "Luciano Bradley, as Princess Euphemia of the Holy Britannian Empire I hereby give you this order: You shall not harm Suzaku Kururugi. Is this clear?"
"My, my. Kitten has claws after all," Luciano chuckled. He put the dagger away and shrugged. "That's good! That's good. Let that aggression out, it's not healthy to bottle it up."
"She... Asked you a question," Suzaku said through grit teeth. "Are her... instructions clear?"
"Crystal," Bradley shrugged. "Although, one piece of advice? In future when you're giving a command like that it would be better to say something like 'I don't want to see the two of you fighting'. Care to tell her why, Marika?"
"Because... The way that she gave that command made it possible for Sir Kururugi to attack you, while making it impossible for you to defend yourself."
Marika's face was completely unreadable. The only thing that Suzaku could gleam was that she genuinely admired the Vampire of Britannia. Was she taking any satisfaction in this outcome? Disappointment? He couldn't tell. Not at all. Not one clue was coming through those bright blue eyes, though they were fixed on him with a burning intensity.
Tag. You're it.
Despite that... In spite of that Suzaku had the sense that she was not doomed to repeat history. She would not walk down the same path of obsession and self destruction that her brother had. He might not be able to read her at all, but that truth held fast to his heart.
The Knight of Ten, on the other hand...
"In case you were curious your highness, I had absolutely no intention of killing your pet Eleven," Bradley said. "You might be delicate on those feet of yours, but you have no practise in stealth. I knew you were there. I wanted to see how far I'd go before you stop me."
There was a sound like a cracked whip echoing through the Kururugi shrine after a moment. The wind picked up, then fell still as though caught completely off guard. Bradley rubbed at his cheek, and that sick smile of his grew an inch wider.
"I rate that slap a seven," Bradley continued. "It probably hurt your hand more than my cheek. Oh well! You might be a bleeding heart liberal type, but there's potential in there for so much more. Now, Marika and I have other duties to attend to. Do we have your leave to depart?"
"You may leave at your leisure," Euphemia said. "But if you cause any kind of trouble for Sir Kururugi or his friends you will answer to me."
"That's good, that's good! Exactly what I want to hear," Bradley said. He beckoned for Marika to leave with him, and so she did. Meekly following after with her head hung low and eyes to the ground. "Now I know exactly how to meet her. I wonder what she's like in person? From what I've heard she's an absolute delight to have around."
"Who are you talking about?" Suzaku asked.
"Who else?" Bradley said while walking down the stairs leading away from the shrine. Then, as if he had been waiting for the perfect moment when his head completely vanished from sight he finished his answer: "I came here to meet the fabled... Massacre Princess. Maybe another day."
Why that... how dare he bring up that painful memory! Suzaku made as if to give chase, but found himself stopped by Euphemia's arm stuck out in his path. "It's okay," she lied. Her hand was trembling. "Don't let him get to you. I hear he's like this with everyone."
"The arrogance!" Jeremiah huffed. "The cheek of him! If he did not have the favour of Chancellor Brando, that attitude would have ended his career by now, if not his precious life."
Chancellor Brando? That name did carry a lot of weight within the Britannian court. Even Lelouch was a little afraid of him. "Thank you, Sir Gottwald. I am glad that Sir Bradley did not pursue the matter further. Internal fighting is pointlessly disruptive, and casts us all in a bad light."
"This could cause further tensions with the homeland depending on how he reports it."
"Then a copy of my report will be sent directly to Prime Minister Schneizel's office," Euphemia firmly said.
Deep breath. What was he even going to do if he did catch up to the Knight of Ten? He was probably trying to pick another fight with Suzaku. Have an actual real excuse to execute him that even Euphemia couldn't deny. The Vampire of Britannia was well named. Bloodlust, deviousness and a total lack of morals. He and Marika both represented the part of Britannia that Suzaku wished to change, but that resisted that change with every fibre of its being. In a sense his ultimate enemies for the cause of reform.
"Now Suzaku! They quite rudely interrupted your training, didn't they?" Euphemia asked. She spun around and smiled at him. That bright and beautiful smile that could light up the darkest night. "In that case, Jeremiah Gottwald. Please spend some time training with him. My Knight should be at his best, shouldn't he?"
Shifting the focus back to him. Of course. Suzaku understood full well what she was doing. That careless comment Bradley had made, it still hurt her badly. The memory, the trauma... But she buried it under so she could give him comfort after his rough experience. She would rather support others than be supported herself. The one thing she didn't want was -
"I don't want to be a burden to my big brother. One day, I'll pay him back for all his kindness but for now all I can give him is my very best smile."
Those two truly were sisters, weren't they? Which made it all the more mysterious that she would suddenly behave this way. Well. In that regard he'd bury those feelings. He'd follow Euphemia's example, and Nunnally's as well. He'd put on his best smile and support her as she supported him without making her feel guilty.
"Of course, your highness! Jeremiah Gottwald, please do not hold back."
"Mind who you speak to, Sir Kururugi! When have I ever held back?"
There is a certain aesthetic associated with the Japanese shrine. The very fact that he was standing here at his family's shrine in the middle of the conquered Area Eleven, preparing to train against the former leader of the Purebloods while his (still secret) fiancee, no less a Princess, watched... all of that gave Suzaku hope that things could change. They could be better. People like Marika and Bradley may cling to the world as it is and wish that it would not change. But it would. Opinions would change. Society would come around. A gentler way could prevail. You could change the world and do it the right way.
It was just a matter of time.
====Shirley====
It had been a nice relaxing lunch with her uncle at the back of a cozy cafe. Shirley had been enjoying herself. Catching up, allowing herself to relax and unwind. She should have known such peaceful times would not last. Well, in one sense she had: The thing that had thrown her off was the way that those peaceful times had come to an end.
"Now, now! There's no need to panic," the masked waitress said. She casually tossed up a row of coins and pierced them all with her Stand's sword. "I'm here to face you, Shirley. By yourself. Come peacefully, or I shall use all of the resources at my disposal to have Joseph Joestar declared a traitor to the Holy Britannian Empire."
Schizoid Man seethed in frustration, but before it could do anything uncle Joseph had already stood up. "Oh my God! It's a rogue Stand user!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Eh?! What was he - Was he trying to draw attention down on themselves?! Joseph wrapped hermit purple around the condiments and lifted them high in the air over the table, making it seem as though they were levitating mysteriously
"It- It really is a Stand! Evacuate!"
"Get out of my way!"
"Not again! It's all those Eleven's fault!"
It was commotion. It was chaos. It was... making people bump into the Stand user trying to confront them! Not much of a distraction, but enough for uncle Joseph to quickly wrap Hermit Purple around their Stand, binding their arms and trapping them where they were. Also pinning down the Stand user herself by completely trapping her Stand.
"I see, Joseph Joestar!" the stranger calling herself Flash seethed. "You were able to turn the fears of the crowd into a weapon against me!"
Shirley made to ask who she was, but Joseph interrupted her by putting his finger against her lips and saying "Your next line is, 'did you really think I would not have a backup plan, foolish Joestar?' Hmph!"
"Did you really think I would not have a backup plan, foolish Joestar?" Flash said a moment later. Their right thumb pressed something concealed within their hand right as they said that. "Eh?!" they gasped.
And then Joseph tossed something at the Flash's face. What? What?! What was going on here?! Suddenly there was an explosion, which filled the air with smoke. A smoke bomb? Where had that come from?!
"Hmph! I was hoping she'd planted something a bit less distracting than that," Joseph said. He grabbed hold of Hermit Purple, taking care to tighten his grip while white smoke began to fill the air around them. "Sneaky waitress, trying to use her Stand to hide that under the table when she came by earlier. But I've still got hold of her, she isn't going anywhere."
The waitress...? Of course. During their conversation they had been approached by a waitress. It must have been this enemy in the first place! Ah! Of course! Then the reason Joseph had been staring at her so intensely was not some dirty old man habit! It was because he'd noticed that she was an enemy trying to attack them!
"Shame to be attacked by such a cute waitress though! That uniform really suited you!"
"Oh, so you were being a dirty old man after all..." Shirley lamented. Schizoid Man shook its head.
"Your next line will be, 'Hey Shirley, mind who you're calling an old man!' Hohoho!"
"Hey Shirley, mind who you're calling an old man!" Joseph yelled. "Huh? Behind me?"
In the midst of the fog there was movement and a thud. A little after that the smoke began to clear, and to her utter disbelief the enemy Stand user was perched atop the table behind them, while uncle Joseph was slumped over, completely unconscious. "U-Uncle!" Shirley gasped. Schizoid Man immediately checked for a pulse and breathing. Both were steady. No obvious signs of injury. She'd knocked him out instantly without drawing blood or even causing any obvious bruises on his head or neck.
"How did you escape Hermit Purple without him noticing?" Shirley growled.
"What's wrong, can't you guess?" the enemy taunted. "Hohoho! Is this the limits of the Joestar bloodline? It seems as though history is doomed to repeat itself! Shirley Fenette! I had heard your uncle was supposed to be some kind of tactical genius, but he fell for my trap like a chump. Your cursed blood is not worthy enough to dally with Royalty!"
A... trap? She'd meant for Joseph to notice? She'd intended for him to throw the smoke ball? In which case... She must have been ready for Hermit Purple somehow and prepared an escape route in advance. No, that assumed what she was saying was true: It's entirely possible she is lying and trying to make it seem as though she had developed this plan well in advance. Either way, Shirley's next move remained the same.
She turned tail and ran out of the cafe.
"Ohohoho! Luring me away from your beloved uncle?" Flash taunted. Shirley looked to her left. They were keeping pace with her and making it look easy! While she wasn't a runner, she was certainly athletic enough to have a good pace to her! "That's fine! That's what I wanted from the beginning. You and me, no civilians, no reinforcements and no chance of your victory!"
Flash's Stand zipped forward with its sword thrust out, forcing Schizoid Man to haul Shirley out of there before she got pierced. A fast Stand user with a sharp sword, smart enough to knock out uncle Joseph... A terrifying enemy!
The Stand lunged forward with its rapier again and again, forcing Shirley to keep on moving, keep on dodging and blocking. The Stand called Flash might be fast but Schizoid Man was hardly any slouch either!
"Aw, how adorable!" Flash said, suddenly flipping her phone around to show an image. "Isn't he precious?"
Huh? Shirley looked in spite of herself. On that phone was a picture of a little boy - perhaps in the range of eight to ten years old - wearing a white suit. He was standing in a garden, a flowery bush behind him. A rose in his hand and a bright smile on his face. That boy was...
"Have you ever made him smile like that?" Flash asked. "He gave me that rose, you know."
Concentration broken. Flash slipped through her guard while she and Schizoid Man were distracted by the picture of Lelouch. The tip of Flash's rapier flicked across her cheek. It stung like hell. She stepped back but Flash was still right there advancing on her. Faster than before.
"The two of you come from different worlds." Ignore her. Ignore her! She's playing mind games. "He was born into Royalty. You were born into the petty world of a commoner. In what world do you have any right to be in a relationship with him?"
Schizoid Man summoned a fencing sword of its own, parried Flash's incoming strike and then punched the Stand in the stomach. Hard.
"What kind of world?" Shirley repeated. Her tone shifted and her face grew harder. It was only noticeable if you knew her, but if you did then the shift was truly remarkable. It was as though she had disappeared and a more serious person had taken her place. "The gentler world we'll make where that kind of thing doesn't matter anymore!" Zero yelled.
"Guh!" Flash gasped, clutching at her stomach. The Stand retreated, and its master jumped back, before throwing a smoke bomb directly into the ground. "How dare you strike your betters, Joestar vermin!"
"I'll let you know when I run into one of my betters," Zero said into the smoke.
Zero didn't believe for a second that this enemy had been defeated. This was not a retreat, but rather a sneak attack. "Do you truly believe the same trick will work on me?" she asked. Smoke billowing around her. Schizoid Man was floating around her. "You talk a big game, but in the end you're a coward who relies on tricks and sneak attacks. The same way that nobility always fights."
"Oh sweetie, don't tell me you believed all that," the enemy's voice came through in front of her. No... The the left! "You truly are more a Fennette than a Joestar, aren't you? A Joestar would have seen through my lies and tricks by now. Hohoho!"
"... What a nuisance," Zero said. That had all been a mind game? To get into her head? If anything that was making her even more angry! "Playing tricks and mind games? Then surely you won't mind this trick."
Schizoid Man took a deep breath - and then kept on inhaling. It sucked in the smoke, huge gulping breaths at a time. It left her feeling a little light headed if she was honest, but make no mistake: It was working! Visibility around her was rising noticeably quickly - and as she expected the enemy wasted no time in rushing in for their attack.
"I'd rather Lelouch wound up with that halfbreed Eleven than a weakling like you!" Flash yelled, her Stand moving quickly in rapier first. "At least she comes from noble stock!"
"Leave Kallen out of this!" Shirley warned. Hah! The idea of it... That Kallen would be interested in Lelouch? As if she'd fall for a mind game like that! Schizoid Man moved to block that incoming attack with its own rapier in spite of that distraction attempt.
Flash scoffed at this. "Your Stand might have precision... But mine is much faster!" The incoming rapier suddenly changed directions, heading towards a different point entirely.
"I know," Zero said. "Which is why my Stand didn't only summon a rapier."
What did she mean? Flash found out quickly enough when the blow failed to land, at least against Schizoid Man. Instead it struck the item being held within the Stand's off hand, slotting nicely into it thanks the the high precision of this bizarre Stand. The enemy's blade was snugly fitting inside it: A rapier scabbard!
"Wh-Whaaaaat?!" Flash screamed.
"Let's see how fast your weapon is when it can't even move!" Zero yelled. Schizoid Man violently jerked the scabbard aside, breaking the enemy's weapon out of its grip and then used that same momentum to violently strike Flash's Stand square in the side of its head.
"D-Don't you dare hit my Stand, you petulant girl!" Flash warned.
"You should have backed off long ago already," Zero sniffed. "Long before you tried to piss me off! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora!"
"No, girl," Flash said mockingly. "What I mean is... All of your hits are useless, useless, useless."
The smoke cleared and Schizoid Man's strikes slowed to a halt. Zero looked up in disbelief. Eh? Wh-what was this now? W-was this how she had defeated her uncle Joseph? A trick like this could be set up with a Stand?!
"What were you saying about a weapon that couldn't move?" Flash asked, while Zero's face turned pale. Her Stand... was without its armour. Shirley was blushing at the more obviously feminine body underneath it that was hovering higher in the air, but Zero had other concerns right now. "They say that history repeats itself. How appropriate, don't you think Miss Fennette?" And that floating feminine Stand had strings attached to its fingers. Strings that draped down so that they were controlling the armour like a marionette.
Armour that Schizoid Man had been attacking. Armour that was up against... 'A weapon that did not move'.
"Remind me... How did darling Lelouch kill your father again?"
"Daddy?" Shirley whimpered. It was a wall. She'd been tricked into punching a wall with Schizoid Man! Cracks formed along horizontally from where she'd been striking it... No, no, no! It was toppling over in the other direction! Anyone on the other side would be -
"Bye bye!" Flash waved. "That was fun! We should play again sometime!"
She ignored that nuisance running off. Which was a shame, for if she had been watching then she would have seen the enemy remove her mask, revealing a pretty young girl with pink hair tied up in a ponytail. At that time she might have recognised her enemy if only she had been paying attention.
But she wasn't for there was a disaster to prevent unfolding in front of her! "Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora!"
Schizoid Man was pushed to its limits that day. It took every bit of concentration and willpower that Shirley - that Zero had. The Stand's fists moved with frightening precision, grabbing bricks from the air so quickly that there were times even Shirley didn't see them move. The bricks were set on the ground one at a time where they couldn't hurt anyone, though someone was definitely going to have to rebuild this wall properly in the near future.
To the majority of the planet it was only a few seconds. To a certain young woman it felt like decades. She sank to her knees and let out a breath when it was done. She'd done it. She'd managed it. Somehow. Every single brick was -
"Shirley?"
Her head snapped up. Standing on the other side of the wall was a boy sitting on a motorcycle. In his sidecar was some kind of bag. He was gawping at her open mouthed and why wouldn't he? After she'd blatantly used a Stand in front of him.
"Rivalz..." she whispered. "Rivalz, I'm sorry. I almost..."
"This is a breaking news report!" One of the giant monitors all over the city blared into life. "The United Federation of Nations has formally cast a unanimous vote to invade Area Eleven. According to our military correspondence, there are already early signs of a large military buildup quickly approaching the Area. All citizens are advised to head to shelter."
Already...? Deep breath. Deep breath! She knew this was going to happen. Part of why she'd met with uncle Joseph was to get his help for this very attack. Even so. She locked eyes with Rivalz Cardemonde, her dear friend, and all she could say was "I'm sorry. Get to shelter!"
And then she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Into a shop and then walked out its back entrance. No way for him to follow her on that bike. Damn that Flash for almost making her kill Rivalz by accident!
Even now she could hear that irksome snobbish laugh taunting her and mocking her weakness. It was a voice she knew that she could not listen to. Could not afford to listen to. Being weak wasn't a bad thing.
Because her weakness was going to save lives. So many lives in this fight ahead. The Second Battle of Tokyo was about to begin!
[To Be Continued |\|]
Stand Stats
Flash
User: Anya
Destructive Power: C
Speed: A
Range: C
Durability: B
Precision: B
Learning Potential: C
Abilities
Rapier: Stand wields a sharp and strong rapier with speed and precision.
Blade-Shot: The rapier may be fired in a one off attack. The Stand must be dismissed for a few seconds before being summoned again if this is to be repeated. Until then this Stand is without its primary weapon.
Armour detach: The Stand may detach its armour entirely. This decreases its durability but increases its already high speed to even greater heights.
Geass Stats
Gaze of the Veil
User: Luciano
Range: C
Control: D
Duration: C
Stability: B
Abilities
Spectre of Death: Anyone that Luciano is directly looking at is affected. Their survival instincts will be activated, set into a massive overreaction that can either cripple a person's ability to do anything or compel them to make a rash action.
No Fear: While looking at a person, Luciano may 'deactivate' their survival instinct such that they have no sense of their own mortality.
Beyond Sight
User: Gino
Range: B
Control: E
Duration: B
Stability: C
Abilities
Borrowed Eyes: Gino may see through another person's eyes as though they were his own. Anyone within a set radius of one hundred meters may fall victim to this.
Cycle Through: It is not necessary for Gino to know the names or location of anyone under the influence of his Geass. As such, he may quickly scroll through every applicable target quickly in order from closest at time of activation to furthest away.
Knightmare Stats
Tristan
Attack Strength: C
Attack Range: C
Defense: C
Speed: C
Terrain Handling: C
Required Pilot Skill: C
Special Features
Fortress Mode: May transform between regular Knightmare mode and a form like a jet plane at pilot's discretion. While in this mode most weapons cannot be used normally: However, a pair of mounted machine guns are now available and maneuverability will rise.
Maser Vibration Polearms: Comes equipped with specialised polearms tucked under wings. The polearms may attach at the hilt to become a larger weapon.
Harken Cannon Buster: When both harkens collide, they fire an extremely powerful energy beam that rivals even the Baryon Cannon.
