"Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well."
- Voltaire

Chapter XLI: Semper Anticus

Imperial Army Headquarters Krasnoyarsk
Krasnoyarsk, Krasnoyarsk, Britannian Empire
October 27, 2025

With the crusade in her stride and finalized resolution in her gaze, Marrybell marched down the halls of her headquarters away from home toward her waiting destination. Moving beside her as escort, Oldrin also remained forward focused and otherwise silent, such that only the bootheels of their respective uniforms could be heard echoing through the corridors. Fellow men and women in uniform drew up into automatic attention as they passed, some even giving salutes, which both princess and knight returned, but neither woman broke in movement as they passed. After five long years of constant fighting and advancing through cold tundra, wood and swampland, the awaited day had at last come, and neither Marrybell nor Oldrin would turn away from it.

Eventually the pair came to the intended doorway, the flanking guards drawing to attention and saluting upon their approach, causing both the General and the Major to go through another round of saluting. Once that impromptu ceremony was completed, one of the guards turned and entered his keycard into the computer terminal behind him, causing the door to shift open and allow entry. Again Marrybell and Oldrin moved through without pause or further hindrance, both ready and willing to meet the awaited day.

"All rise for Her Imperial Highness!" General Blackman announced, causing all within the command and control center to rise from their seats and place their fists against their hearts in the traditional Imperial salute. Only upon their princess raising her hand did they sit back in their respective stations and return to their duties, with Marrybell herself taking the rather elaborate chair on the raised platform at the rear of the center. Oldrin, naturally, stood by her liege as Blackman approached the "throne".

"Your Highness," the general began in earnest, having also long awaited for this day. "Your army stands ready and waiting."

Nodding, Marrybell looked toward the great monitor at the far end of the center. Sure enough, the lines of her forces were set, ready and waiting as her chief general said for the order to advance. The city of Yekaterinburg and the European forces defending outlined due west. Britannia's final stop before its ever onward march through the Urals, and western Europe beyond.

Taking one final moment to close her eyes and collect herself, Marrybell again resolved to herself. Euro Britannia would be brought forth, and it would be hers and hers alone. Thereafter…

The princess' mouth then opened once again, to which she uttered the awaited words. "All forces," she commanded, her voice so low as if meant for only Blackman and Oldrin to hear it. "Advance."

"Yes, Your Highness!" the resounding acknowledgment came, followed by the eruption of thunder and motion. Throughout the command center, the order was roundly repeated through the appropriate communications, then supplanted moments later by data and direction being transmitted throughout the field. Simultaneously did the lines upon the main monitor begin to move, each point symbolizing a knightmare, an armored vehicle or a landship charging toward battle, with those making up the European lines charging back to meet them. Minutes on did the signals symbolizing combat aircraft, fighters and gunships, also enter the monitor, moving to support the ground forces while also facing their European contemporaries.

Once again after five long years of fighting, the Battle of Yekaterinburg had at last begun. To its emergence, Marrybell could only smile in anticipation.

Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"And so it begins," Lelouch espoused as he watched the footage from a tacwindow at the side of his computer terminal, all the while being more concentrated on the gameboard that made up his center screen. After another short moment he ended up moving a black pawn forward. "With quite the bang admittedly, but then Marrybell was always fond of such entrances."

"Something that we have long become aware of since Chukotka and Kamchatka," Rommel replied from the "SOUND ONLY" display at the opposite corner, a white pawn soon moving to meet Lelouch's black. "Your father's prior declaration aside, it was not until those landings that Europa truly realized it was at war."

"I can imagine," Lelouch responded, moving his knight forward while also keeping watch of the battle at hand. The opening was more or less standard fare for the moment, with Marry and Zhukov's respective lines meeting each other head on well outside the city, the first casualties already mounting. That would change as Zhukov's plan to draw the Imperials into Yekaterinburg took effect, but outside of that, Lelouch could already tell this battle would be a long one. Days, perhaps months even – not unlike Battle of Munich during the Soviet War – depending upon whatever strategies Marry and Zhukov had to throw at each other. Naturally it was too early to determine a winner. "Care to place a bet?"

A short laugh exited the speaker. "Obviously not, for the same reasons you won't," Rommel answered back, maneuvering his rook into a striking position against Lelouch's bishop. "Though again obviously I'm hoping Sergei pulls off the win. If we can finish things in the Far East as well as Afrika, then so much the better."

"Yes," Lelouch concurred, moving his bishop out of position before the rook could remove it from play. "It would certainly save much time and hassle on my part as well."

"Don't you mean our part?" a third voice intervened as the woman who had since made herself a fixture in a certain Demon King's life entered the study, two cups of steaming Earl Grey in hand. Passing one cup over to Lelouch, who took it with a nod of thanks, Kallen came to stand by her liege's side and watch the game. "It's not like you would be the only one out there, fighting the good fight."

"How could I forget?" Lelouch responded rhetorically as he sipped his cup, doing well not to eye how a fair amount of Kallen's cleavage that could be seen through her red bathrobe upon her slight leaning over. It wasn't like he didn't know she was doing it deliberately.

With the Geass he had placed over her eight years prior removed, her memories restored and all she saw of and felt toward him validated, it hadn't taken long after Alexandra Land for Kallen to announce that, "in the interest of security", she, and C.C. with her, would move into Urasoe. Lelouch had attempted to countermand her – for reasons only God and Heaven understood in hindsight – to which Kallen all too sweetly informed him that if he "dared" try to stop her, she would beat him to a "bloody inch" of his life – said "inch" just enough that he remain alive and more certain parts of his anatomy functional – before "promptly" making herself at home. Even C.C. could not keep rather howling laughter back over that one, while a nonplussed Lelouch wisely capitulated, much as he had with Bismarck's own threats of physical violence. The Dragoness, and their "Witch" companion – who was strangely absent in the present – had been there with him ever since.

Similar laughter to C.C.'s bout soon entered through the speaker. "Far be it for me to assume you wouldn't be there as well, Frau Major," Rommel responded amusedly. "You have quite the reputation after all. Der Roter Drache that guards der großer Dämonenkönig."

"So I heard," Kallen answered back, recalling her battle with Akito Hyuga in Akmola, much to her reemerging apprehension. Something in her voice must have betrayed her thoughts – or it was simply clear what Rommel's words of intended praise had brought to mind – as she felt Lelouch's hand slip over hers for a moment, squeezing lightly in reassurance. Smiling warmly in turn, Kallen returned the squeeze before Lelouch took it back to at last bring his black queen into play.

"Verdammit!" Rommel cursed, having not expected his opponent to bring his queen into play in such a manner. Such that he was now down one rook. "I suppose I should have seen that."

"Perhaps," Lelouch again espoused, right as Rommel retaliated by taking one of his bishops with his remaining rook. Again he looked toward the Yekaterinburg screen momentarily. "I don't suppose you know what's going on in Berlin now."

"Obviously I wouldn't, being over five thousand kilometers away," Rommel responded, his tone of his voice otherwise wishing that he did. "For what it's worth, there hasn't been much coming out of Central Command over the last few days, nor Berlin Palace for that matter."

"Which means they already have some kind of plan in place," Lelouch summarized, sighing at the thought. "Volgograd?"

Even through the "SOUND ONLY" display, Lelouch could see Rommel's nod of concurrence. "That I would be willing to place a bet on. And a fair sized one at that," the European General replied before, at last, making his own move with his white knight. "Check."

Lips folding into a grin, as did Kallen's beside, Lelouch responded with his black rook. "Checkmate."

Again did Rommel curse as he realized Lelouch had effectively boxed his own king in while he was moving to do precisely the same with his. This was the third game he had lost against the former Black Prince and counting, though he liked to think he was giving his opponent a run for his money. Their games had certainly been drawn out enough for it. "Good thing we don't have bets on this game either."

"Indeed," Lelouch again concurred. Far be it for him to admit it openly, but out of all the opponents he had had over his lifetime, the Desert Lion was, without doubt, the closest to being the fourth to defeat him at his favorite game. Even their latest round had come down to simple luck, as Lelouch had simply beaten him to the draw and little else. "I would inquire toward next week, but I have the distinct feeling neither of us will have the time."

"Indeed," Rommel repeated solemnly. "Kriegsglück and all that."

Audibly sighing over the speaker, Rommel then finished with. "I'll give your regards to your brother Raymond if I see him. Though I get the feeling I'll have to dig him out of his hole in Casablanca first."

"More than likely," Lelouch responded back. Raymond, much like Cesare, had never struck him as overly brave, and now that the North African Front had shifted, Lelouch could see that he had not been wrong in that assumption. He couldn't help but feel a fair amount of remorse over that however, knowing that the same men and women he had led not even a year ago to near victory were now being soundly beaten back as their commander hid at the far end of the continent. Kriegsglück as Rommel had said.

Feeling Kallen's hand slip onto his shoulder in a mirror of his prior movement was enough to assure him though. Reaching back to squeeze that hand again, Lelouch said his final farewell. "Good luck to you General."

"To you as well Your Highness, Frau Major," Rommel answered back, earning a respectful nod from Kallen, who knew the Desert Lion would sense it. "Auf Wiedersehen."

The "SOUND ONLY" window closed thereafter, as did the game window.

New Liverpool Kitchen
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

It really was more peaceful than he could have ever imagined, as well as surprisingly prosperous. Though he had heard from his former Grandmaster that the survivors of the Devastation had settled upon the Ryukyu Islands, effectively the last remnant of pre-war Japan, he had always assumed that said settlement was little more than a refugee colony, a small dwelling in which the remaining Japanese scraped out a meager existence unto themselves, unnoticed by the warring world around them. Though that description wasn't completely inaccurate, Ryukyu was far from some destitute colony; it truly was paradise given form, a realm of peace and opportunity that even those in the Homeland seldom enjoyed. Such that, not for the first time that day, he couldn't help but wonder. Was this the world his liege was striving for? The one he would destroy the current world to erect in place? If so, then Jeremiah once again found himself having been wrong for so long.

Sitting at the corner of the small New Liverpool themed café, looking out the nearby window, the former Eildon assassin continued to watch the streets of Naha just beyond. It was only his third day since his release from Omoromachi, and the world beyond still felt so surreal to him. Surely this was all a dream he was having, or perhaps he had really died in Alexandra Land and what he was seeing now was, as cliché as it sounded, some part of Heaven, if not some grand illusion of Hell. None of it could be actual, especially in the world as he knew it. The people outside should have been toiling and laboring just to survive, not flourishing to the point that they could walk down the open streets in good health and clean clothing, moving from one establishment to another. Cars, even the undersized Japanese variety, shouldn't have been driving in such abundance that there was some measure of traffic across the island. And there certainly shouldn't have been lights and signs throughout, both illuminating the city, if not the whole of Okinawa, at night while also advertising the various in-state businesses, which appeared to be functioning well enough off despite the isolated economy.

Really, none of it should have been real as far as Jeremiah was concerned. And yet it was, such that he need just keep looking outside to see as such. For all that they had lost, the survivors of the worst cataclysm the world had ever faced were not just surviving, but thriving in the dark, desolate world around them. All while supporting the Order of the Black Knights alongside, hoping against hope that the Demon King would bring about something even better than their present setting. A new world, one built upon all that they had here in Ryukyu, in turn enjoyed by all of humanity.

Smiling minutely at the thought, Jeremiah at last turned away from the window, his visible eye closing for just a moment. Indeed he had been wrong about so many things for so long. Not just about Lelouch or the Black Knights around him, but what they had been fighting for all along, as well as what he had been fighting for all along. First the purity of the Imperial Army's ranks, then basic vengeance against the one who had wronged him, only to capitulate toward vengeance for another, one whose slighted honor he had perceived most wrongly. How far had he truly fallen since Aries Palace so long ago?

Feeling himself frown, Jeremiah now looked down toward the table in recollection. To the encounter ten days prior in which, for the first time in so long, everything was made true before him.

Omoromachi Medical Center
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic
October 17, 2025

He did not know how long it was now since Alexandra Land, but he knew it had to have been days. Days since he had been brought back to Ryukyu, both the reason toward and his very status therein kept from him by his captors. By all facts and logic he should have been a prisoner of war, assuming the Black Knights followed the Tibet Convention, yet as he lay in his hospital bed, both the organic and cybernetic components of his body being gradually repaired, Jeremiah somehow did not feel as such. Certainly there hadn't been any interrogators coming into to question him; his only visitor up to this point had been Viletta, who had first explained to him where was and that he would be healed in a few days' time. She had visited him thereafter once or twice, mostly for simple conversation and reminiscing of their time in the Emperor's service, but beyond that, Jeremiah had been left where he was. Resting and healing.

Just as he was about to drift back to sleep however – he had little else to do beyond that and watching pirated streaming feeds – the door to his room abruptly opened. At first he assumed it was Viletta coming to visit him again, but upon turning to face the newcomer, he saw that it was a different woman, as well as a different man, altogether. An unreadable expression on her own face, Kallen Kouzuki, dressed in her full Black Knight uniform with the same tanto and handgun she had used against V.V.'s guards prior at her hips, stepped aside to allow her master to enter. In turn appearing ever the phantasm he remembered, Lelouch came over to Jeremiah's bed, the purple orb of his mask fixed squarely upon the cyborg. Again for his part, Jeremiah could only wonder what his former longtime adversary intended there.

"Leave us," Lelouch commanded simply through the metallic synthesizer of his mask. That was enough for Major Kouzuki, who, without a word, exited the same way she had come. Leaving the Demon King alone with his would be executioner, who continued to look up toward that purple orb in inquiry.

Then, after what seemed like forever, Lelouch reached up and removed his mask, revealing the face Jeremiah had long come to loath, but did not quite hold that feeling toward any longer. Not that it would have had an effect on him, but the cyborg was quick to note that the former prince's Geass suppression contact was in place, showing his scarred left eye as it truly was. That, perhaps more than anything else, signified to Jeremiah that his captor had no hostile intent.

Such as it was when Lelouch took his seat beside his hospital bed, staring down for a very long moment before speaking again. "I believe," he began, slowly and evenly. "You and I have been on the wrong foot from the very beginning, Jeremiah."

Looking on curiously, Jeremiah listened as the supposed bastard prince continued. "From what I've come to understand, our conflict has been but a series of misconceptions. On your part, as well as mine."

"Heh," Jeremiah let out a small laugh as he himself understood. "Viletta told you everything, did she?"

"More than enough," Lelouch answered back with due solemnity. "That you were an Imperial Guardsman at Aries, your first assignment if I'm not mistaken…"

It was only then that Lelouch turned to face his onetime executioner. "And that, more than any other, you took my mother's death as your greatest sin. One that you have spent your life thereafter trying to redeem yourself from."

A brief silence interluded as Jeremiah considered those words, ultimately nodding in concurrence. "Yes, that was my original motivation for leaving the Guard and joining the Army, and the Eildons thereafter."

He then fixed Lelouch a meaningful glance. "And of course, upon learning the truth about Zero from the Grandmaster, why I have sought your death."

Lelouch's expression remained mute to this, to which Jeremiah merely turned away to face upward, a resolved smile across his lips. "It was all so that I could redeem myself for failing to protect her," he continued. "As well as for her honor, which I originally thought to have been slighted."

"Originally?" Lelouch repeated.

Jeremiah's smile deepened at that. "Tell me the truth Your Highness," he said. "I admit I've since figured it out, but I want to hear it from you."

He turned back to face the former prince again. "You're doing all this for her as well, aren't you?"

Another small pause, before Lelouch nodded. "I admit that's where it all started for me," he spoke in turn, looking down as the memories began to reemerge. "Speaking out against my father, taking up the mantle of Zero, turning against my homeland and leading a rebellion… It all stemmed from my mother's death, as well as my sister becoming blind and paralyzed."

He then quashed the memories before they became too overwhelming. "Though my reasons, and motivations, have since become far more numerous, it all began that day," he went on. "When I found my mother dead and my sister robbed of her sight and legs."

A much longer silence soon came between them as Jeremiah indeed realized exactly as Lelouch has said. That they had been on opposing sides, and yet, in the end, they had fought for the same. It would have been sickeningly comical had he not been so exhausted of emotion.

"Then," Jeremiah found himself speaking up once more. "Where do we go from here, Your Highness?"

Lelouch smiled at him on that. "That depends on you Jeremiah. Colonel Ohgi offered you a chance to join us at Alexandra Land. I now renew that offer."

His smile then diminished as he turned serious. "Join me Jeremiah, so that we may both fight for justice, and redemption."

Jeremiah couldn't help but wonder at that last word. Did Lelouch truly see himself in a similar light as he? As a man who had gravely sinned, and so yearned and sought for redemption? If so, then Jeremiah had been even more wrong about him than he thought.

That aside however, the cyborg admitted that he felt the same temptation that he had when Viletta had originally offered him such a place. Surely there could be no greater justice than to bring about an end to this dark, decrepit world, so that paradise may be begun anew. And yet…

"I cannot Your Highness," Jeremiah at last responded, with much remorse. "For the justice you seek would see Britannia sundered and left to ruin."

The next gaze he made toward Lelouch was not one of accusation, but rather sincerity. "That is something I cannot fight for, no matter our homeland's sins."

Despite the rejection, Lelouch added further on. "And what if I were to say that is not entirely true?" he inquired. "What if I were to say that while I may seek Britannia's sundering, I do not wish to see it left to ruin?"

Suddenly feeling renewed interest, Jeremiah nodded. "Go on."

Lelouch did as such. "When I was Zero the first time, eight years ago, I originally saw our homeland as beyond redemption. That there was nothing within worth saving or preserving upon its inevitable destruction."

More memories soon emerged, but of an entirely different set from fifteen years ago. Now, Lelouch recalled far more happier times in the interim. His training under Bismarck by day and his time with he, Dorothea and Roland at night. His chess matches with Johann and Schneizel, his escapades with Gino, his repeated online interviews with Anya. As well as his renewed friendship with…

"Only now that I am Zero again do I realize how wrong I was," Lelouch went on. "That there are indeed significant parts of Britannia that are worth preserving, more than enough for it, and those who call themselves Britannian, to be part of the next world."

Again Jeremiah understood, more from the prince's melancholy expression than just his words.

Seeing that himself, Lelouch came to the ultimatum. "Britannia as it is must be destroyed Jeremiah, both to end this Great World War and for all that I have spoken of. But its destruction will not be complete. Through its sundering, it may yet be reborn into something much greater than it is now, something whole and worthwhile for all."

"Upon your taking the throne?" Jeremiah found himself questioning.

Himself laughing now, Lelouch shook his head. "I have no desire for that," he stated. "The destroyer of the old order has no right to rule over the new."

Jeremiah found those words to have more impact on him than he would have otherwise thought.

"No, I would rather it be Schneizel, or Cornelia, or Odysseus. One with the strength to bear the weight of rulership, yet not allow it to corrupt them the way my father and so many of my ancestors have done."

Once more Lelouch shook his head. "Though to be honest, there was only one who truly fit that criteria, but…" he trailed off, another, far more painful memory entering his mind.

Jeremiah nodded in understand, considering. The temptation had remained with him throughout, but now it was such that he could not think of any reason to resist it. If what the Demon King said was true, then he had nothing to fear, nor reason not to fight. In fact, as he dare believe, such an outcome would truly be the redemption he sought. The restoration of his own honor by bringing about a new Britannia, in which none may suffer the fate as his late Empress. Surely that was not so impossible, was it?

Looking toward Lelouch again, Jeremiah indeed felt so. That, as far beyond reach as it seemed, the Demon King could, and would, very well take it and make it all real. Just as he had so many times before, from the initial fighting at Shinjuku to the present. Lelouch vi Britannia, whether as Zero or the Black Prince, was a man who truly rendered the impossible possible. And with such belief, such faith, Jeremiah Gottwald at last found his true path to redemption.

Seeing the awaited answer through Jeremiah's own eye, Lelouch again spoke. "Jeremiah Gottwald," he called out. "Will thou upon this day pledge thy fealty to justice, and stand as a knight of black?"

Smiling once more upon recognition of that new line of words, and the ceremony they represented, Jeremiah answered. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Does thou wish to abandon thyself, and be sword and shield for the sake of the greater good?" Lelouch followed on.

"Yes, Your Highness."

In lieu of his newest follower's present state as well as his lacking a sword, Lelouch gestured with his hands. In the motion of a proper knighting. "I, Lelouch vi Britannia, do hereby dub thee Sir Jeremiah Gottwald."

The prince smiled approvingly as he finished. "Black Knight."

New Liverpool Kitchen
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic
October 27, 2025

"You look like you're in serious deep thought," the voice of Viletta – Chigusa – interrupted his reminiscence, causing Jeremiah to look up and see that she had returned with their drinks. "I have to say I haven't seen that expression since Narita."

As she took her seat and passed Jeremiah his glass of Bloodhound ale, Jeremiah only smile flatly back at her. "Just reminiscing," he answered, choosing to leave at that. "And still coming to terms with, ah, how things are around here."

Chigusa understood what he meant. "It really is a lot to take in, isn't it? That we could have all this when the world outside is tearing itself apart."

"That you could have all this and flourish when the world outside is tearing itself apart," Jeremiah responded as he took a sip of his ale. For a local brew that "only" mimicked the traditional Britannian variety, Jeremiah had to admit it was pretty close to the genuine article. Yet another emphasis of Ryukyu at large, as such a thing would never have been available in some destitute refugee camp. "This truly is a magnificent refuge Viletta."

"Yes," Chigusa concurred, remembering when she herself had first arrived in Ryukyu with a near comatose Kaname Ohgi and the other surviving Black Knights. Ryukyu had already been well developed then, since it had regained its independence following Japan's conquest, but even she hadn't realized it was truly the only place she and the others could have gone at the time. The only place where they could live in this desolate waste heap of an Earth.

Jeremiah found himself closing his eye over that. "And to think, I came so close to ending all of it," he spoke with clear remorse. "By striking him down…"

"That doesn't matter," Chigusa stated back fervently. "The only thing that matters is that you're with us now Jeremiah, and that you're going to help us bring about this new age Zero keeps harping on."

The cyborg couldn't help but laugh at the latter part of the exclamation. "Indeed I am Viletta," he responded, causing his comrade to settle back into his seat. "And I will."

Bringing up his ale glass, Jeremiah looked upon his reflected visage, specifically the orange half-mask that covered the left side of his face. He had not received his original cybernetics from Project R voluntarily, but he had most definitely received his second set, as well as his Geass Canceller, as such upon joining the Eildons. Anything and everything that would help him carry out his desired vengeance.

Ironic how he would now use those very things for the exact opposite. To indeed bring about this new world that Lelouch envisioned. And he need not look back outside to understand why.

"Through my loyalty and my honor," Jeremiah resolved toward his reflected image. "I will see my liege's… my rightful liege's vision brought forth. And Eden reborn."

Chigusa could only smile upon that declaration. As did, from a few tables over, seemingly unnoticed as she seemingly kept to herself and her own (soft) drink, Sayoko.

State of Yekaterinburg, European Union

It was, unfortunately, exactly what he had come to expect. Though it was hardly the first large-scale battle that Akito and his pack had taken part in, the fact remained that the Britannians were seemingly legion as they charged on, those knightmares equipped with longer ranged weapons already firing as the European forces rushed to meet them. Unlimbering his own bazooka, it didn't take much for Akito himself to scan the sheer mass of blue and designate his own set of targets, firing as soon as his target reticle fell into range. One Sutherland or Gloucester after another, enemies fell before him as with so many others, yet the Imperial horde remained unhindered as it advanced, eventually entering getting close enough to bring their assault rifles and medium ranged ordinance to bear. It wasn't long after that the two armies, one of blue and one of grey, converged and the real fighting began.

The rest of the Werwolfs following in his own charge, Akito, having since swapped his "Henker" out for his own "Urteil" assault rifle, weaved through the chaos, striking down any and all opposing knightmares as he pressed on. No Glindas seemed to be present – no red and gold tinted knightmares or seventh or eighth generation types to be seen – the Ghost of Hannibal Barca was quick to take note. He wasn't surprised by this as he gunned down another Sutherland upon passing; Marrybell was obviously keeping them in reserve. Not that that meant the present opposition would be so easy to deal with, as a Gloucester soon picked him out and lunged after him, lance poised to impale from his right. Fortunately Akito saw the oncoming attack well before – emphasized by his frame's mono-eye swiveling about – and his Wolfen remained in top form. A simple boost in speed was all it took to evade that particular attack, and then an abrupt rotation and a single burst from his "Urteil" enough to finish the Gloucester, which easily fell and crumpled across the ground from its cockpit block being struck. Once again only one out of the whole, but Akito would obviously add that much more as the fighting continued. Assuming Yekaterinburg held out for so long, as General Zhukov seemed assured by.

The other Werwolfs were once more quick to follow his example, charging through the Britannian formation in full force while maneuvering through the responding fire. Not far from him, Ryo's Wolfen extended its hidden blades and proceeded to cut through two oncoming Sutherlands, while Yukiya and Ayano's units continued to rain rifle and bazooka fire through the horde. That was as much as Akito was able to depict – at least from his visual displays – before refocusing his attention back on his own set of enemies, in which he too extended his left arm hidden blade to slash through another charging Gloucester, again neatly evading its lance before cutting into the cockpit block as it passed. The Gloucester toppled over dead much like the one before it, from which two other Sutherlands moved against him in its place, both firing their rifles in tandem. Again Akito had little issue evading, and then responding with his "Urteil".

This will indeed be a long one, Akito thought as the two Sutherlands were dispatched, only for more of their kin to target him and attack. Fortunately Ryo was quick to come to his support, adding his own "Henker" on to Akito's fire, striking down several of the Britannians before they could draw in against either of them. Even so, Akito's last mental point was well established. Operation Tiegel, the Battle of Yekaterinburg, whatever history would remember this time as, it was to be a very long, very difficult fight. One that could very well determine the whole outcome of the war in the Far East.

Even so, the battle remained on, and Akito thought no further on the subject matter, instead concentrating on killing as many of the invaders as he could and – preferably – staying alive throughout. All while the Britannian surge continued onward toward the seemingly distant city, the European shoal meeting it head on with equal force. Fire and fury erupting as more and more fell in between.

Berlin Palace
Berlin, State of Germany, European Union

"Quite the opening," Heydrich observed as he watched the first stages of the battle play out on the monitor. Though the imagery was strictly tactical in design, with an overlaying map and signal markings indicating European and Britannian units respectively, it was not hard for the Sturmtruppen commander to visually imagine the battle itself as more and more knightmares fell. "If Zhukov really intended to draw Marrybell toward that particular city, then I would say he succeeded."

"Quite indeed," Kessler concurred as he himself watched the battle at hand. Though he still had his lingering doubts toward Zhukov's chances with Operation Tiegel – at least on their own – he had to admit that the Bear of the Far East had done a fine job routing his opposite number, ensuring that the Britannians attacked Yekaterinburg at precisely the time and place of his choosing. Not that Marrybell had had much choice, at least as far as "place" went. Again Yekaterinburg was the only obvious point Bloody Marry could pass her forces through the Urals from, at least without having to go through Chinese Kazakhstan. That in itself brought Operation Mitternacht and the events therein back to mind, but Kessler chose not to focus on them. "What is the latest from Volgograd?"

Heydrich shrugged. "Everything's more or less on schedule," he reported. "Outside of the usual local disturbances."

Kessler raised an eyebrow. "Anything that I should be concerned about?" he found himself questioning.

"Not in the least, Herr Präsident," Heydrich responded with utmost assurance. "Most of the unsavory elements were cleared out from the beginning, so all that remains now are either small pockets of resistance or just unruly citizenry."

Heydrich grinned as he added. "Rest assured Edelweiss will be ready when the time comes."

Hearing that, and seeing the confidence in the General's demeanor, Kessler could only nod in acknowledgment. "Good," he stated, resisting the urge to exhale. He hated how much of his own plans hinged on that singular factor, but that was something he could only live with. Once Edelweiss was brought into the open for all to see, nothing would be the same thereafter.

If nothing else it will bring the Far Eastern Front to a much needed close, Kessler thought as he continued to watch Operation Tiegel's progress. Indeed that part of the war – the very first part of Europa that Britannian had dared set foot on – had gone on for far too long for his liking. Not that he was truly afraid of Marrybell ever setting foot into the west – Edelweiss would again see to that, if nothing else – but far too much time and valuable resources had been expunged at keeping her at bay, or at least slowing her progression, much like with Rommel's bouts with Lelouch in Nordafrika. Resources that would have been better served in defending the West, the very heart of Europa proper, from Schneizel, though admittedly that was no longer a factor.

Still, the fact remained that the war – at least the defensive war – had to end, and Kessler would much rather have it end in Europe's – his – favor. And while he doubted what lay waiting in Volgograd would end it entirely, it would at least halt Britannia's eastern advance, as well as that of its last able commander. Once Marrybell was brought to heel, it would not be longer before Rommel finished Raymond off, and Hannes would be dealt with not much further on. Once again, nothing would be the same thereafter…

"Well, I suppose Zhukov has it all well in hand," Heydrich exclaimed as he stood up, taking another moment place his dunkelgrau commissar cap back atop his head. "An easterner and a traitor-in-waiting he may be, but still one indeed worthy of his mantle."

"Very much so," Kessler admitted as well. As much as he himself had difficulty investing his trust in Georgy Zhukov's grandson, the fact remained that the Bear of the Far East was one of his more valuable assets. Had it not been for him, Marrybell would very much have broken through the Urals and conquered Moscow well before. "It's almost tempting to see if he would actually win Yekaterinburg himself…"

Heydrich actually laughed at the idea. "He could do it, couldn't he?" the sturmtruppen let out, amused at the prospect. The easterner and traitor-in-waiting succeeding at where his infamous ancestor had failed, defending his beloved Rodinia from the foreign marauders. Even Alexander Nevsky had not done been entirely successful in that venture, despite what Sergei Eisenstein had famously depicted.

Now it was Kessler's turn to shrug. "Quite possibly, yes, but fortunately," the following grin across the President's lips was wry. "That is not a risk need taking."

Heydrich himself smiled at the inclination. "As you say, Herr Präsident," he responded, before drawing into a salute and then promptly taking his leave.

Paying only the barest attention to the Stormtrooper's exit, Kessler watched Tiegel's continuance for just a few minutes longer before deciding he himself had enough, and so disengaged the monitor. It ultimately did not matter how far, or where, the battle would progress. As skilled and as assured Zhukov was – seemingly – of his chances, the President that he served was not a man who left anything to chance if he could afford to. Yes, Yekaterinburg would be won, and Marrybell would be defeated, but not by the Bear's hand. Nor any hand for that matter, but rather a shot.

A shot that, at the risk of Kessler finding himself cliché, would very much be heard around the world. Especially in Britannia…

Peace Mark Charlemagne-class land battleship Euliya
Krasnoyarsk, Britannian Empire

"I still can't say I like it sir," Miss X spoke to the "SOUND ONLY" window on her computer terminal, her dubiousness apparent. "As effective as such a plan would be, it relies too much on elements that not even Zero has full control over…"

"I know, and I can't say I'm overly confident in it either," Orpheus responded from the other end. "Unfortunately however, it's our best option at this time short of the Euliya making it passed the Urals the tried and traditional way."

Admittedly Miss X liked that option even less, in spite of everything. Bad enough that they would have to take the long route around the mountains, since the main passage was obviously not available, but it would take weeks if not months for the Euliya to make it from Krasnoyarsk to Kazakhstan the way things were now. And Miss X had a distinct feeling that neither Zhukov nor Marrybell had concentrated the entirety of their forces in Yekaterinburg.

"Is it even necessary sir?" Miss X found herself questioning further. "I know it's good to have a backup and all, but even if that part of Akikaze fails, I doubt Marrybell will make it that far west before…"

"Miss X," Orpheus interrupted. "Given all that you've come to know, you of all people should know better than to assume anything."

Miss X could only bite her lip at that response. Out of the entirety of Peace Mark – such as it was now – she was the only one besides Orpheus that was indeed aware of Geass and all that it entailed. And with that came the associated knowledge not to take any "conventionality" for granted.

"Yes, you're right of course," Miss X admitted thereafter. Anything was indeed possible in the present world, up to and including what she had almost spoken of. "Even so, chances remain if Zero doesn't get Bloody Marry, then Zhukov most certainly will if and when she makes such a flight."

"That is the likelihood yes," Orpheus agreed. "But at the same time, Zero is not one to take such chances and neither am I."

Miss X couldn't help but smile on that. "You never were, sir."

Though she couldn't see it, she knew her superior returned her smile, at least for the moment. "On the other end, how are Dien and the Noriegas taking to their new machines?"

"About as well as can be expected," Miss X responded with deliberate understatement. The three aforementioned were less like professional fighters and more like kids on Christmas at present, for clear and obvious reasons. "They're certainly happy they won't be piloting Burais anymore."

"I'm sure," Orpheus exclaimed, Miss X again picking up on his responding smile. "Truly a shame we had nothing like the Gekka in the old days, but I suppose better late than never."

"Indeed sir," Miss X concluded as well, though she now gave off a frown for her part. Yes, it was indeed a shame that the only worthwhile machine in Peace Mark's original lineup had been the Byakuen. Had they been able to procure actual seventh and eighth generation knightmares back when their organization had been fully existent…

Miss X shook her head on that. What was past was past, while the future was still being fought over in the present. "Any further orders?"

"Not at this time," Orpheus answered back. "Until Colonel Chawla and her entourage get the network up and working for themselves, you're too far away from either Yekaterinburg to support the Europeans…"

"And even with the addition of three Gekkas," Miss X summarized mildly. "We would never last in an assault on the city Krasnoyarsk."

Her superior actually allowed himself to sigh a little on that. "So, for the time being, you're to remain on standby," he said. "Hopefully not for very long however."

Miss X nodded to this. It was as much an irritation as it was a relief, given all that was occurring now, but the fact remained that she and the rest of Peace Mark were out of the war for the moment. At least until the Autumn Wind that Zero had formulated truly descended into the Far East. Again however, Miss X retained her doubts.

"Take this time well, Miss X," Orpheus added on, knowing precisely what his second-in-command was thinking. "Zero's plans aside, the next set of days may very well be long and arduous."

Again through her unspoken connection to her superior, Miss X was able to pick up on Orpheus' uncertainty. "And I fear many of us will not see those days following."

The former terrorist and femme fatale nodded once more. "I understand sir."

With no more to be said thereafter, Orpheus promptly disengaged the commlink, leaving Miss X alone in her present domain. Letting out her own sigh, the white haired woman leaned back in her seat, grey eyes then drifting closed. Already imagining the days, and the bloodshed, that would indeed come to pass all too soon.

Black Knights Camp Kunigami
Kunigami, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"I admit it's probably not the most inspired of my creations," Rakshata spoke evenly, trying and failing somewhat in keeping her uncertainty at bay, while fellow Black Knights – "fellow" in regard to one at least – continued to look toward the knightmare frame in question. "In fact, I dare say he's one of my most problematic children."

And that says much, coming from you especially, Viletta thought but didn't say aloud, herself not wholly taken by the machine before her. To her, it looked less like a knightmare frame and more like Frankenstein's Monster, or at least the giant mecha equivalent thereof. A cobbled together abomination that appeared barely able to walk, let alone fight in battle. "Maybe you would be better in a Sutherland after all, Jeremiah. At least until we capture an Exeter, or…"

"No," Jeremiah gleamed as he continued looking upon the knightmare in question with unexpected amorousness. "This one is perfect."

Now adorned in his new uniform, the collar tabs of a Colonel visible for all to see, the onetime Eildon had seemingly completed his transformation into a full-fledged Black Knight, though only Chigusa seemed to regard him as such among their present company. Jeremiah paid it little mind however, knowing that it would be some time yet before his new comrades – especially the kunoichi further back, disguised rather effectively as one of Colonel Chawla's more anonymous minions – accepted him as much as Zero and his fellow ex-Purist had. For the moment, all that mattered his new steed. His new love.

Less an entirely new design and more a combination of the old with the newer, the knightmare frame before them indeed appeared the ugly duckling and problem child that Rakshata described it as, though such fit Jeremiah Gottwald all too well. As the head of the Science Division had described, it was an experimental unit, a – rather obvious in Jeremiah's opinion – attempt to meld Britannian technology onto a Black Knight frame, resulting in the hybrid form that all now beheld. Though it retained the main body and legs of a Gekka, its arms had been swapped out with those of a Gloucester, and the original head-mounted mono-eye camera had been replaced with a factsphere and the quad-camera eyes of a Sutherland. All complimented by a pair of antennae extensions on either side of the head and a corresponding burnt orange and black color scheme, both of which somehow made the aesthetic entirety of the frame.

Indeed, Jeremiah could not think of a better knightmare for himself as a Black Knight, one that reflected him so perfectly: an outcast that was less than whole, yet still willing and capable of fighting on. He could already tell the Akizuki was all that and more.

"Ironically we succeeded in what we originally intended," Rakshata went further. "The merging of Britannian parts and mechanics has granted this one a high performance level, well above a standard Gekka and, as begrudging as it is to admit, well on par with my beloved Gurens."

Rakshata then turned back to face her onetime enemy. "That being said, it has severe balancing issues and worse stability. Even Major Kouzuki was unable to pilot it effectively, but at least she was able to keep him upright through her run. As well as physically walk away after."

"I understand, he's a wild horse," Jeremiah summarized, deliberately using Rakshata's choice pronoun to emphasize. Clearly he would not be dissuaded.

Shrugging, Rakshata decided to let it be. A problem child the Akizuki was, but it was still her child, and she was more than happy to see it taken in by a willing guardian. Thus, she made a mental note to see if she could modify the interface with some Eildon tech as well.

Chigusa wasn't any more sure than the Science Division head, but ultimately it was Jeremiah's choice. Perhaps he would make a better devicer for it anyway, since he had been able to pilot the Vortigern, itself a unit plagued with instability – or so she had come to understand after – beforehand.

Though there was still one question on her mind that she had to ask. "I suppose you'll want it repainted?" she inquired, gesturing toward the Akizuki's burnt orange coat. She then looked back to Rakshata. "Or would that be sacrilege?"

The Indian scientist shook her head. "So long as it's tasteful, and not pink," she answered, turning to the man behind the Orange Incident with own curiosity. "So what will it be? Perhaps the blue and red you Purists used back in the day?"

"That won't be necessary," Jeremiah responded, much to everyone's shock and abundant surprise. "I will take him as he is now."

Blinking along with Chigusa, Rakshata found herself questioning that. "Are you sure? I know the Orange Incident was long ago and everything, but…"

"Are you sure Jeremiah?" Chigusa repeated.

Smiling even more as he continued gaze into his chosen steed's dimmed eye cameras, Jeremiah nodded in confirmation.

"Entirely sure Viletta," he said, running a hand over his new uniform. "As much as I loathed the Incident and that very word so long ago, it was through both that I have now come to wear this uniform. That I have now come to serve my rightful liege."

He then turned to face Chigusa straight as he declared. "Therefore, Orange, in both name and in color, shall be my symbol. The symbol of my loyalty."

Once again blinking in response, Chigusa could only close her eyes and match her former superior's smile. How much like Jeremiah to be so overly dramatic, and yet so righteous all the same.

Despite her own self, Rakshata also smiled – as did many of her subordinates – as she nodded in approval. That one declaration actually clearing away her original uncertainty. Jeremiah Gottwald was indeed one of them now, as strange as she still found it. But then, there had been much in the way of strangeness as of late.

"Very well Orange-kun, he is yours," she responded, re-earning Jeremiah's attention as she nodded to the Akizuki. "May you use him well."

Nodding himself in acknowledgment and gratitude, Jeremiah was again drawn back toward his new knightmare. His new means of service, once more to his rightful liege.

Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

Sighing to himself as he felt Kallen snuggle that much more into his side, Lelouch once again found himself in an all too familiar position. In a way he should have expected it turn out like this following the conclusion of his chess match and communique with Rommel.

"At the risk of sounding disapproving of present circumstances," he spoke as he reached his arm over to stroke Kallen's cheek. "Is there really nothing else for either of us to do?"

"I'm sure there is plenty out there," Kallen replied somewhat exhaustively, smiling at his touch without so much as opening her eyes. "Just nothing so essential."

Even Lelouch could not stifle a laugh at that, as exhausted as he himself felt. This, and the many other such occasions that they had shared – and not always in their bedroom – was one of the more unforeseen, if not so much unwelcome, effects of his Geass being removed and Kallen's memories of eight years ago being restored. No longer restrained by doubt and hesitance, Kallen Kouzuki was arguably an even greater force now than she had been prior to Alexandra Land. One that even her "liege" could not, for the life of him, dissuade or contain.

Indeed, the same aggressive energy and outright ferocity that made her feared as the Red Dragoness was now being directed squarely on him, and was further emphasized by their shared knowledge that they would not always have such time to themselves, if not worse. And try as he might – initially at least – to hold her back, Kallen had already made it abundantly clear what any such attempts at resistance would result in. Thus whenever he or Kallen were not attending their duties or otherwise engaging in free time out in the open, chances were they were to end up as they were now. Such as it had been since the hours long return trip from Alexandra Land in fact, right after Kallen had come to Lelouch with another certain request.

"Are you sure you don't want to know?" Lelouch found himself asking out of the blue. "What the command was exactly?"

Kallen sniffed almost derisively at that mentioning. "I told you then, I'll tell you now," she spoke more into his side, especially as she held him even more closely. "I trust you Lelouch."

That caused Lelouch to smirk somewhat; the sheer irony alone was confounding. For Kallen to come to him, after all that she had gone through over the last eight years, and ask that he use his Geass on her again so that she would once more be immune.

"I don't care what you put on me this time," Kallen went on, more and more vestiges of sleep starting to take hold over her. "So long as it doesn't take away from who I am, and how I feel."

"Indeed," Lelouch spoke responding to her embrace by holding her closer in as well, again to her contentment. He admitted the thought had come across at the time. To seal away her feelings for him, so that she would be his loyal knight and nothing else. Eight years ago he might have done that, much as he had sealed away Shirley's memories of him. Too much had happened to too many who had come to love him.

The moment had passed however, and quite quickly too. Not for the obvious reasons alone either. He knew how essential Kallen's love for him was to her, and how stripping her of her love would have been precisely the same as what she had originally feared in the first place: that he had used his Geass to turn her into a loyal minion and nothing else. He would be damned before he would ever use his Geass in that kind of a manner. And much more, before he would ever bring such harm to her.

Somehow sensing the darkening of his mood, Kallen spoke up again, as much as she could while still drifting. "Obviously I am still who I am. And I still feel as I feel toward you."

To that, Lelouch allowed himself to smile again. "Perhaps a little bit more," he replied knowingly.

That earned a responding smile from Kallen. "Perhaps," she admitted. "It's amazing what happens when eight years of fear and doubt are cleared away."

That in itself brought to mind another thought. "You should be grateful, since I doubt I was that good the first time around," she went on. "Especially compared to those who undoubtedly came before me."

Almost immediately did Kallen realize her mistake, as she felt the warmth nearly drain away from Lelouch's body. Just as she also sense Lelouch turn away in his despondence, his expression now one of shame.

"I never thought of it like that," Lelouch put forward, once more remembering his past life as the Black Prince, and the lack of fear and doubt he himself had enjoyed during that time, along with the many women he had bedded therein. As much as he had long wished it otherwise, especially now.

Inwardly sighing, Kallen slowly drew his head back around to face her. His remorseful amethyst staring deeply into her warm and understanding sapphire.

"It's alright," she said, now stroking his own face with her own easing touch. "You've given me something those other women will never have."

Now having a more questioning expression, Kallen answered. "You've given me the real you. The real Lelouch vi Britannia."

She then leaned into kiss him lightly, warmly. "The very man I saw in that hangar in Yokosuka, and pledged to follow to the very end."

Her words had the desired effect, as Lelouch drew her that much more to himself. Again Kallen followed and held him just as closely, all the while wiping a single tear from her love's face.

"That means more to me than anything else," Kallen finished with, snuggling back in and closing her eyes once again. "And it will to that same end."

"Yes," Lelouch confirmed as he leaned in to kiss Kallen on the forehead in gratitude, feeling himself fall toward dormancy as well. Somehow and some way, that was precisely what had happened at Yokosuka. Kallen had seen him for what he truly was. Not some savior or some demon, but a weak, once powerless boy that had most foolishly embarked on a child's crusade, one that would forever condemn his soul.

She had seen him then, and had understood what he had done and would do, and what certainly awaited him in its fruition. Yet, in spite of it all, she had chosen to follow him. Not through Geass or some other force, but by her own will, regardless of what she herself may suffer in the end. Such in itself meant more to Lelouch vi Britannia than anything else. More than all else.

Eventually did prince and knight fall back to sleep in each other's arms once again.

Kamine Island

After a fair amount of walking from where her Tamashi troop transport had originally dropped her off, C.C. once again found herself facing the great bane of her existence. For several long moments she simply stood there in the cavern, staring with a muted expression toward Sigil embedded upon the monolith, the mark of her power's – curse's – origin. Upon the Thought Elevator it was a simple marking, not holding any of the power that the one on her forehead held, yet it still symbolized all the things that C.C. had come to despise over her century spanning life. Despise, and yet accept all the same.

Even so, she had not come to Kamine to gaze upon that marking in itself, and she knew she ultimately had very little time to be there, and more. Thus, without further thought, she came up to the monolith and reached out, placing her hand upon its surface. A near instant later, she was gone.