Fission Mailed

Kallen Stadtfeld, Knight of Ten

Falling to Pendragon

After being tossed like a speedball

Imdead, Imdead, Imdead! I'm gonna fucking die!

Where's the ripcord!? Please-please-please-please let me live!

AHHHHHHHHH!

What a pleasant one-way trip down.

— —

Moving faster than a race between Superman and The Flash, Kallen hastily bundled up the parachute that prevented her from splashing over the city's pavement like the world's drunkest sack of bricks. After tucking the nylon fabric to a somewhat manageable size and shoving it back into the backpack, the Knight of Ten bolted away from her landing zone like she was going for the Olympic record of the hundred-metre sprint.

Only once she was cleared of the open sky and found passage into the palace through one of the employee entrances did Kallen let her burning chest rest. There was relative safety inside the buildings where the Glinda Knightmares couldn't track her. Because she was almost fairly positive a couple of them were intrigued by the irregular item the Lancelot discharged before its retreat.

Kallen defied her fear and snuck a peek out the doorway. Two towering Vincents had just landed by the East Wing of the structure, not too far from where she hid. Damn, these things are massive when I'm the size of a person.

Luckily, it didn't seem the Glinda Knights took any interest in meticulously combing the area, as their float units soon activated and both KMFs returned to the dark blue. She hoped that meant they didn't catch a perfect glimpse of herself in freefall, as otherwise there was no telling who Marrybell would send to pursue.

For now, Kallen allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She survived an impromptu HALO jump with basically zero practice and landed without any broken bones that weren't already bent. It was altogether a different experience from ejecting out of a doomed Knightmare, and she wasn't sure if she enjoyed either.

Okay… okay, I'm okay. Miss me with hypoxia, miss me with frostbites, miss me with the bends. Kallen gave herself an intense pat-down, checking one last time that she wasn't on the verge of collapsing and dying.

Who the hell needs protective gear and training. Since in terms of equipment, she had no equipment. Disregarding the flight suit on her back and the bandage around her face, Kallen was starting to regret being so gung-ho about getting some action to redeem herself.

Adding to that, her Guren's keys were now completely useless.

Swallowing her embarrassment and annoyance, the red-haired ace ditched her chute and pushed onwards nevertheless. The maintenance tunnel connecting the service entrance and the East Wing was a rather dull place to travel, it was once she emerged from the tunnel where the weight of reality was starting to settle in.

There was blood in the furniture, bullet holes in the décor, casings all over the floor. Yet there were no bodies to bury, no weapons to scavenge. Everything was eerily quiet, almost as if the intruders eliminated the ambient noise along with the security guards.

These fucking… fucking traitors. Kallen was never too much of a patriot, which should be obvious. However, it still stung a bit seeing her ordinary home and workplace left in ruination. These were the halls she walked in, paintings she sneered at, attendants she talked to.

The Glinda Knights had struck at her home, and nobody likes having their place broke into.

We'll get back at these assholes… we'll get them. Despite her irritation, Kallen convinced her resentment to alleviate so she could create a more practical chance at revenge down the line.

Taking in her surroundings more diligently, the Knight of Round scanned the ceilings for any surveillance cameras pointed in the direction of the route she planned on taking to reach the airship hangar near the back of the palace. She didn't want her grand adventure to be cut short because someone in a control room got a bead on her.

Find Lelouch. That objective definitely sounded easier coming out of Suzaku's mouth.

Suzaku… not even once… not even.

Still, what else should Kallen do other than confirming the safety of the man ruling over one-third of the world who also just happened to be her future husband, possibly? Got an idea on who's not getting invited to the wedding.

Treading carefully, Kallen crept her way through the empty hallways without disturbing the looming silence. Here and there she could hear the noise of Glinda Knights infantry patrolling their conquered Britannian castle, although all seven Japanese Gods of fortune were smiling down upon her journey on this convoluted day as none of them came into direct contact with her.

These guys sure are well-equipped… do we like- not have an R&D department or something? Two things Kallen noticed about her enemies; they appeared to be all exclusively girls and they were carrying around some seriously high-tech military gear that would get any tac-nerd drooling.

Kallen had shot her fair share of guns in all calibres, both at dummies and live targets. But it was still a rare occurrence to see so many G36s chambered in what she assumed was conventional gunpowder-based 5.56, a calibre mostly favoured by EU nations as opposed to the Britannian's… well, she actually wasn't too sure what cartridge those rectangular-shaped ARs accepted.

Then again, most of the guns she had seen weren't decked-out with at least ten attachments. The Glinda Knights were either the world's elitist special forces or the biggest LARPers, and Kallen didn't need to be told which type of soldiers she should be hoping to meet if it came down to it.

After a lot of shifty pussyfooting with a touch of tip-toed dashing mixed in, the lonely protector was finally in the same hangar as the hijacked Great Britannia. If she was serious about finding Lelouch, which she was, then the last place he used to be was the best place to start.

He'd at least leave me a note the morning after, right? In the likelihood that Lelouch had already relocated elsewhere, Kallen was hoping to find some sort of clue that could reunite the two lovers.

However, at the rate things were going, the chance of her even getting aboard was looking kind of low.

Five. Kallen counted twice. Five Glinda Knights soldiers were guarding the elongated ramp of the flagship, and they didn't seem to be the patrolling type. She could go for one of the other hatches into the ship, but it would still require her to crawl within line of sight of the lookouts.

Despite her pondering, the choice was taken out of her hands as the abrupt clank of a weapon being brought up disrupted her planning process and forced her to duck.

"-Movement! Just saw something behind those crates."

How in the fuck did they…!

"Ten O'clock, by those double-stacked containers."

Wait, that ain't me… Kallen relaxed her stiffened limbs, her fight-or-flight instinct mellowing out from doing anything rash.

"What is that? …Is that- ~awwwwww~! -Look at you, little guy~!"

…I'm not little though? Kallen didn't dare to peek around the corner right after her cold sweat stopped, but the Glinda Knight certainly didn't sound like she met someone who was a target.

The opposite was true, actually, they sounded downright enraptured. "-Stand down, stand down, girls~! Look how cute this feller is!"

"I'mma fetch her. Cover, pretty please!"

"Got your six, 1-5. Just let me fluff her too, yeah?"

That was the opportunity for a sneak peek, and Kallen didn't hesitate to see what was going on out there that made a spec ops team behave like silly schoolgirls.

To her utter disbelief, it was Suzaku's cat that distracted all five members of Marrybell's elite.

There's no way. There's no way, right? Professional soldiers wouldn't just abandon their post to catch a cat, right?

…Nooooo way. Apparently, they very much would.

Funny enough, the feline was not spooked by the approach of a fully-geared operative, voluntarily letting itself be caressed. "Awww~ it's the cutest thing! Look at her- wait, is it a 'her'? …It is, it is! she's such an adorable puss!"

Is this even real life… or this just a fantasy? -Ah fuck! Fucking Marrybell! Even when she was simply commentating in her mind, Kallen still couldn't escape the princess' influence.

"-Uwu? I love her black eye, uwu. Like she got punched in the face… uwu."

"~Meow…"

"Shut up, 1-3! Who would ever hurt an adorable kitty like her, you git!? And no more 'uwww's! Or I'll give you a black eye!"

"Can we keep her, Cap? Pleeeeease~?"

"~Meow?"

"No, idiot! …At least not until I pet her too!"

"C'mon, c'mon! Snap a pic, snap a pic!"

"~Meow!"

Often in the past, Kallen had to fight perilously for every shred of advantage she could hope to scrape by, barely coming out of it alive, hanging on by a thread.

This was not one of those times.

I mean… free is free… If it was free, she wasn't going to poke holes in that.

"Oww, what's this, little guy? You wanna go in there? Do you want to? Go ahead, buddy! Go ahead, we'll still be here!"

"Hey, seriously though, we should call that in, right?"

"Yeah… standby. -Err… Flintstone, Goldfish lead to Flintstone. We got a… err, we got a friendly feline inserting into battleship Great Britannia. How copy?"

Kallen snuck by the Glinda Knights who were all wholly distracted by Suzaku's cat, allowing her unrestricted access to the closest emergency hatch into the airship. She wrote down a mental note to thank that tiny animal sometime after the storm blows over.

Actually, what's that little guy's name? She was certain she knew it back during the academy days, but those were years away. It's 'A' something… Arthur? No, can't be that obvious, probably like… Archie. Yeah, that's about right. Confident that she did not just rename Suzaku's pet, Kallen slipped away from the checkpoint and into the belly of the airship.

Hoisting herself through the emergency hatch and sealing it shut behind her, Kallen was back at where everything started, where she made her first mistake. Not again… never again.

Lelouch had kept the Great Britannia's shafts between the decks a well-hidden secret, so much so that Kallen didn't even know where to find an avenue into the tunnels, forcing her to resort to the less dignified travelling method of crawling through the air ducts.

Wow, this shit sucks… like really 0/10 would not recommend. Kallen cursed her ill-advised journey as she sucked in a cough. The movies made it look so easy to just pry open a vent and climb on in, what they didn't depict was the abhorrent lack of maintenance in there. Kallen was basically breathing in more dust than oxygen.

However, she kept pushing forward, if only because dropping down anywhere would land her in the middle of a Glinda Knight patrol.

Somewhere down the line, just when Kallen seriously weighed the merit of fighting it out against the occupiers without any piece of hardware, she heard something faint in the distance that resembled a voice.

Which it was. A bloodcurdling scream that never seemed to end, an anguished scream of somebody who Kallen knew very well.

C.C.… Jesus Christ… C.C. For however much Kallen pretended to hate C.C. on the surface, whatever it was tormenting her must have held tenfold as much hatred for the immortal.

Another labouring shriek, only it was getting louder as Kallen inched closer over the brig. Goddamn, those savages… C.C. would surely appreciate a timely rescue from her torture.

When the Knight of Round was over a lattice opening just above the holding cells, something froze her in place as she peeked down through the lines.

The Glinda Knights' signature cross-shaped visors, one pair was staring up straight at her. "-Hey, Anchor, mute that woman's cell for a bit. I think I just heard something."

At that exact moment, as the flashlight attached to the front rail of the Glinda girl's assault rifle shined into the vent, that was when Kallen felt how real everything was. And the weight of everything was so, so heavy.

Suddenly, C.C.'s prolonged cry was snuffed out with the flick of a switch, leaving only the unexpectedly loud beating of Kallen's own heart ringing in her ear.

"Seeing anything?" Kallen ducked to one side, hoping it wasn't too late.

"…Nothing directly in the grating, but I'm sure I heard something."

"Chill girl. It's probably that woman's constant bawling."

"Hold on. —Doritos 3-2 to Road Runner, potential movement in the ventilation shaft above the brig, permission to open fire?" The knight grabbed her portable radio and reported her unfortunate finding.

No! Say no, say no, say no! Kallen was noticing a great disparity between how sincerely some of Marrybell's troops were taking their jobs, and she really disliked the serious ones.

"—Denied, 3-2. Don't shoot up the place please. I can task an engineering team to drone out the ventilation shafts, request it?"

"—…Negative, Road Runner. I must be hearing things."

"-Other than that woman's ear-splitting screeching, you mean?" Another guard cut into the dour conversation with a touch of humour that didn't get a laugh out of Kallen.

"Okay, I gotta admit it's getting on my nerves. —Road Runner, when are we getting shuffled out? The maid hasn't stopped working her since we got here, and not once did she mention anything about the emperor. You know I'm a stone-cold Steve Austin, but this's a bit extreme, you get?"

"—Can't help you, Witchcraft's orders. She must've done something really bad to piss off the princess, she's messing her up for the sake of it."

"—That is messed up, Road Runner."

"—I have rumours saying the woman did something to Her Highness, left her really shaken, if it helps."

"—Still…" By that time, Kallen decided to count her lucky stars for granting her immunity from detection and moved on.

I'm sorry- I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, C.C. Kallen planted a grip on her emotions, holding back the tears accumulating under her eyelids before they damped her bandage. Earlier when she casually considered challenging an entire company of soldiers, she wasn't feeling the dread of actually committing to it.

Kallen's hands trembled for every hairbreadth she crawled, her breathing growing more laboured as she released the gasp in her lungs. After writhing away to a far enough distance, she collapsed on her stomach in the cramped shaft, her cheeks burning hot from both relief and disgrace.

After crashing and burning to the ground, Kallen developed a natural yet deplorable fear for the underworld.

…I'm a fucking coward! It wasn't right, she abandoned the witch who she considered a close friend to her suffering. The truth was that there was nothing she could do to save C.C., but that didn't take the regret off her shoulders. Kallen was supposed to be the fearless, charming and nonchalant aide to the most powerful person in the world, she wasn't supposed to tuck her tails away and run at the first sign of danger.

I can't! I can't! I'm just one girl…! If she lit me up, I'd be done for! The ventilation wasn't built with the sturdiest steel, 5.56 would rip through them like paper.

I'm only invincible in the sky! …Goddamn it all! Dancing in the clouds was where she belonged, except her force multiplier was now the wings for her enemies.

Back when the Black Knights were still her allies, her fear of death wasn't nearly as veritable as now. Back when she had nothing to lose, sorties no matter how perilous couldn't make her fret. Kallen Kōzuki would gladly offer her life for a multitude of causes, but Kallen Stadtfeld really just wanted to be happy in the embrace of her king.

Lelouch… Lelouch, please… lend me some courage interest-free. She was crawling forward again, despite herself, despite her fears. She bit into her knuckles, not strong enough to draw blood, just to clear the fog of trepidation from her head.

Kallen wasn't sure if she cherished her life or was simply afraid of dying, but she was convinced she cherished nothing more than the man who led her all the way here. So, she will keep treading onwards, if only for his sake.

C'mon… dipshit. Thirty seconds of pussy break is over.

Marrybell mel Britannia, the Witch of Britannia

Imperial Capital Pendragon, airship hangar

Could Marrybell call herself a person who was gracious in defeat and humble in victory? She was the unrivalled master at losing and persisting, there was no doubt about that. But to be modest after scoring a win, that she wasn't outright proficient yet.

"-Wah!" Marrybell turned her heels on a dime, deserting her position in the front of the march and jumped into Carine's personal space.

"-AH! D-don't! -S-stay away!" Catching her younger sister by complete surprise, Carine blabbed in incoherent gibberish as her eyes teared. "Pl-please don't!"

Watching her sister cry and beg for forgiveness, Marrybell smirked. She didn't have to do this, there was nothing to gain from traumatizing the already frightened princess.

Then again, there was nothing to lose by relieving her boredom and pent-up vexation on the sister she hated the most. "See, Carine. It's so easy… it's all so easy, right?"

"W-what is…?"

"Punching down, like you always do. It's so mind-numbingly simple that even I can do it." To prove her claim, without a word of warning, Marrybell clutched the back of Carine's neck and slammed her head down to where her raised knee was.

"-Please NO—!" The entire squadron stopped in its tracks as the other captured royalties all gawked on in horror.

Smashing Carine's nose in might have been interesting enough on its own, but Marrybell saw herself as the embodiment of compassion and kindness, so only scaring the living daylights out of her sister was deemed satisfactory for the moment. After all, she still had every opportunity to do anything she desired to her loathed younger sibling.

"It'd be so easy, dearest Carine. I can cave your skull in, poke your eyes out, burn your tongue until it's brittle and snap it off like a dried branch." Marrybell yanked hard on one of Carine's feathery pigtails, dragging her face close until she was only a breath away from her captor's sadistic grin. "Who's gonna stop me, Carine? Who?"

"M-M-Mercy! Mercy, p-please! Sister Marry! I-I'm- I'm sorry!" As Carine's pathetic appeal for compassion fell on a pair of ears that were still deciding whether to turn deaf or not, Marrybell euphorically relished in the sweet taste of revenge.

"Beg me, Carine. Beg like the dog you are." Predictably, the juvenile girl hadn't grown a backbone during all her years of luxury.

"I-I-I'm sorry- s-so so-sorry for… everything… I…!" Carine's desperate cry only grew louder as she foolhardy clung onto Marrybell's vest, spewing disjointed apologies one after another to appease the sister who held her life in her palms.

It felt so unbelievably good, decimating somebody's pride like that. Even better, since it was Carine, Marrybell's conscience filed no objections.

Think I'm gonna wet my panties.

"-Marrybell, don't you believe that is far enough." Always the man of reason, Odysseus spoke up in defense of the spineless Carine. "She already apologized for what she did, there's no need for this excessiveness."

"Well, well… if big brother Odysseus says so…" Deliberately, Marrybell rubbed a strand of Carine's vivid scarlet hair between her fingers before releasing her terrified kin from her iron grip.

Marrybell took two steps forward away from her victim, but just as swiftly she turned around, "-BANG!" she went right back in Carine's face again. Her sister cowered backwards in heightened anguish and tipped over her feet, landing her on her butt like a stumbling fool.

"Heh…" Marrybell smirked some more, squeezing every slice of pleasure out of her sister's misery.

When the fun of bullying Carine was just about drained, they had conveniently arrived at the Britannian flagship that was her destination. Not a second wasted and her boredom fully sated, Marrybell considered it a good time to proceed with her plan.

"-Alright, Metallica. Take the rest of my lovely siblings to Grandberry, don't rough them up too much when you lock 'em up." Her appointed squad all nodded back in acknowledgment. "Sabbath, on me. -And dear sis Gwen too, you and I have some alphabets to learn."

While reluctant, Guinevere didn't resist when Orpheus separated her from the rest and gestured for her to follow Marrybell's lead.

In the distance, the infantry team set to watch the Great Britannia waved at their coworkers approaching the parked carrier. "—Flintstone, this's Goldfish 1-1. We have visual on Witchcraft inbound with the HVTs. Seems she's routing Princess Guinevere to us and the rest to Grandberry, everything's A-Okay."

Oldrin ran up and returned their greeting, shaking hands with the fireteam's captain. "Goldfish, any sitrep?"

"All peachy on this front, ma'am. Well, except one thing. We let in a… errm, well, we let a cat in."

Oldrin did a double-take. "A cat? Like- the animal, cat?"

"Yeah. She was just ~sooooo cute! ~Right, girls?" The rest of team Goldfish all eagerly nodded their heads along and agreed.

"Riiiight~!"

"Jesus Christ, this… what if the cat was a… a bomb or something?" It was obvious Oldrin searched for any flaws in Goldfish's decision that she could criticize.

"Who in the fuck uses a kitty as a suicide bomber? She was like- this small!" Goldfish 1-1 indicated the size using her hands, no larger than a shoebox. "It'll be fine, Ozzy. Relax."

"You retar-! I mean, you bloody knobbers…" Was Oldrin trying to appear more sophisticated in the presence of other royalties? Because that would be downright precious.

Nonetheless, for as intrigued as Marrybell was by Goldfish's insouciance and Oldrin's austerity, she had better things to do than worry about a feline. "2-1, it's okay. It's just an animal."

"Yes, Your Highness… I guess." Relenting her quest of chastising Goldfish, Oldrin passed them a lazy salute and climbed aboard.

"Thank you, Your Highness." The Glinda Knights on foot also saluted their commander, before getting snagged by a quandary of respect. "-And err… Your Highness." They too saluted Guinevere, although not as enthusiastically.

The crown princess didn't reply, not verbally at least. She shot them a contemptuous glare as she was urged to keep the pace, annoyance clearly written all over her expression. Marrybell assumed it was in keeping with who her older sister was, never enjoying being told directly what to do. But if it was done through flattery and bribery, then she was rather easy to persuade.

What an unrepentant whore. Although, in some surreal ways, Marrybell could applaud just how upfront her 'bitchiness' was.

"Where did you find these imbeciles willing to lie down their lives to steal you the crown?"

"Same place you find all your suitors, apparently."

"You bastard munter!"

"And you're a silly-old swine, we're related, piss-brain!"

"Well- you're a… a peasant bint!"

"Utter rotter."

"Cunt!"

"Slut!" Marrybell could just about laugh at that ludicrous exchange, Guinevere had such a way with words.

In some ways, it was strange. Ever since salvaging the past that her father robbed from her, Marrybell had honed her hatred and hostility towards those who wronged her, that list included her lackadaisical siblings who all chose to remain blissfully ignorant to the pains in the world. After all, she just had so much malice to share, it would be wrong to horde it all for herself.

Yet, when she and the sister she thought she reviled traded defamatory slangs back and forth, there was almost a sense of contentment blossoming within her. Was it simply because of the blood they shared that made Marrybell feel so sentimental? The princess didn't have that answer.

"Ughh! You're so extremely unpleasant, Marrybell!"

"Right back at you, Gwen."

"God, I wish you were dead!" Guinevere mustered up her entire animosity into a menacing glare, but all Marrybell could focus on was her puffed cheeks and pursed lips.

It was like being held at gunpoint by a baby clown, bizarrely farcical. Fuck, she's making me laugh…!

"Heh… heheh…" Marrybell musingly snorted. She couldn't let her intimidating image be tarnished because of how funny she found her thirty-something years' old sister to be.

"What!? You dare to sneer upon me!?"

Guinevere seemed to take Marrybell's genuine amusement for a farcical mockery, which only made her fuming scowl burn brighter. God- I can't, I can't!

She couldn't break into a fit of laughter now, so she increased her stride and hurried ahead, gesturing for Sabbath to also pick up the pace. "Let's go, let's go! I got missiles to try and launch!" Her two Ozs and Sokkia all received her message, their footsteps rapidly catching up to the princess speeding ahead.

Marrybell recalled her simpler childhood, days when those most treasured to her were always within an arm's reach. Those days were gone now, and she shouldn't try to replace a sister she loved with one she despised. But the temptation always lingered, to mend their differences and repair their relationship.

It's too late, it's all too late! She looked back to her decade wasted in slavery, the thousand of souls she sniffed out for ambition on the brink of reaching its crescendo. We lost years spilling blood over the altar of vanity! I will not allow our perseverance to be desecrated!

Marrybell couldn't go back to the days of old that were stolen from her, no matter how much her heart desired comfort. She had to march forward on her Yellow-Brick-Road, either to damnation or salvation.

Kallen Stadtfeld, Knight of Ten

Imperial Capital Pendragon, Aerial Battleship Great Britannia

Damn, it's like a five-star hotel in here! By all means, Kallen expected the emperor's personal quarters aboard Britannia's flagship to be splendid, but this was luxurious with a capital 'L'.

Subconsciously, Kallen fondled the folds of the silky quilt over the king-sized bed. It wasn't her brightest idea since she just dropped down from a dusty vent, but the comfy allure of a snuggly mattress after hours of gruelling labour was almost irresistible.

Also, there was a quieter voice in the back of her head channelling something a little more obscene. It was a metaphorical devil over her shoulder, and it was chanting something. "Mile-high club! Mile-high club! Mile-high club!"

Well, I mean… you know, you know? Maybe afterwards… maybe. That wouldn't be too bad, not too bad at all.

"We're going deep, and we're going hard."

"Surely you can't be serious?"

"I am serious…and don't call me Shirley."

Wait a sec… huh? Kallen absolutely wasn't indulging in any licentious fantasy whilst inserted deep behind enemy lines. And even if she was- which she wasn't, the fantasy was getting a bit derailed.

"Weapons free."

"Tango down in section One-Alpha."

Woah, woah! That's enough of that, me! Wrong mile-high club.

Forgetting about that strange episode, Kallen resumed her skulk through Lelouch's room. She was on the lookout for anything, basically. But especially anything that could potentially be a clue to help her deduce the monarch's whereabouts. Information had always been the most vital part of any warfare, and that remained true in her case.

Well, this is pretty worthless. Then again, what was she hoping to find by rummaging through Lelouch's closet? Even the pairs of underwear in there were brand-new and never wore. Don't ask me how I know that.

Now, onto some loot of actual value she pinpointed. Score! What is this? M17? My guy be packing some new-wave heat, huh. Kallen swiftly hit the mag eject and was glad to catch a weighty magazine fully loaded by 9mm in her palm. Unfortunately, there was no spare ammo for her to stockpile, she had to make sure the seventeen rounds count.

Feeling less naked now that she was the bare minimum definition of armed and dangerous, Kallen slotted the sidearm back into its hostler which she strapped around her ankle.

Having salvaged everything useful to her that wasn't bolted down, Kallen was exploring for a way out of the captain's cabin that didn't involve her waltzing through the front door. C'mon, gotta have a secret tunnel entrance here. That's like the whole point of having a secret tunnel!

Kallen searched harder, she bet her survival on finding something. It was practically impossible for whoever installed the passage to not have a gateway in this very room. She ruled out the computer and the intercom, those were too obvious and too bothersome for an emergency. In fact, it had to be a switch or lever of some sort instead of anything labouring, since it was Lelouch who needed to access it.

When her hunt resulted in a severe lack of big red buttons concealed under a table, The Knight of Ten realized she must evolve her thinking in order to overcome the challenge of this peculiar escape room. Alright… I'm Lelouch. I want a switch that opens a trapdoor… where would I put that bitch?

Naturally, viewing her surroundings through the lens of her lover, the first thing Kallen noticed was a chessboard neatly showcased on the bookshelf. The pieces were placed in spots that indicated an ongoing match, and there was a possible move for the King of Black, not at all a logical one, but one did exist. Okay… but it can't be this easy…

Except it was.

"Whaaaaaaaaa-!?" The Bookshelf itself creaked and slid out of the way to reveal a hidden shaft, completely blowing Kallen's mind and not for the good reasons.

"If the king does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?"

"Yeah- yeah I know but-! But this move doesn't even… this isn't… the move makes no sense!"

"If the king does not lead, how can—"

"-Shut up, me! This shit is wacked, chess doesn't work like this!"

"If the king does not—"

"-Okay, okay, fine! Fucking Lelouch and his chess symbolism, man. How did I even fall for this weirdo…?" If Kallen argued any longer against herself, the strain on her psyche was going to turn some screws loose.

Once inside the dimly lit tunnels, there was actually a big red button on the other side for sealing the portal back shut.

It's like I'm in a sitcom or something. Limiting the volume of her groan to be no louder than a jet turbine, Kallen slammed the enticing shiny button and was glad to be done with that hodgepodge of bafflement as the bookshelf closed after her.

Following her spatial contextual awareness and the basic ability to remember things, Kallen took the turn in the direction of the bridge when the path forked.

Might as well make a play for the football… you still on linebackers' duty, Moe? Similar to herself, the Royal Guards Captain was also captured and subjugated under the cruel control of Marrybell's Geass. Unlike Kallen, however, Monica was doubtlessly still deprived of her free will or worse, even if it couldn't be that much worse.

Coming up to the literal light at the end of the tunnel, the airship's bridge gradually came into view through the parallel slits in the grated exit. Wary of any unintended noise, the stealthy knight lifted the trapdoor the tiniest amount and peeked out through the crack.

Okay, no patrol on the inside, lucky me. And there shouldn't be any, a parked aerial carrier wasn't the most vital strategic position to safeguard. Let's get in on this tactical espionage action.

Quieter than a rotting mouse, Kallen clambered on the bridge itself without catching the attention of the few Geassed navigators standing idly by their station. Marrybell allegedly claimed that her victims could regain their independence if they were left alone without orders, so that should mean those still abroad the Great Britannia were serving her in some manner.

Not that anything she said means anything. The last time Kallen trusted something Marrybell said, she was used, abused and left for dead. So she wasn't terribly sorry for casting a doubtful shadow over the traitor princess' promise.

However, what that meant was retrieving the briefcase might not be as easy as politely saying 'please' to the hypnotized Knight of Round hanging out by the helm, looking all tedious and the like.

How to make this work… That was the hard part. Kallen didn't know what exact order Marrybell placed on Monica, so just approaching her, even from behind, probably won't be a demonstration of her improvisation skill. And it wasn't like she could just go up and break the Knight of Twelve's neck, which carried with it numerous problems ethically and technically.

Unfortunately, before the scenarios for a fruitful repossession could be surmised by her cognition, the fluid mechanical function of the double sliding doors by the entrance activated, skyrocketing Kallen's pounding heart rate high enough to transform her into the Hulk. Shit! Every goddamn time it's like this!

Scrabbling away in a fit of controlled panic to the bridge's darkest aisle, the half-blooded ace just barely ducked behind the farthest row of monitors near the front of the control room the split-second before the visitors had an unobstructed field of vision onto the entire platform.

Finding herself in an awfully familiar predicament, Kallen wasn't going to attempt something fresh just for the fun of it. If crouching out of sight solved her pickle the first time, then she had no problems with staying put and hugging her cover as she prepared to exploit the newcomer's obliviousness.

"-What's wrong, ma'am?"

"…Something feels off."

She noticed the tone and mannerism of the initial voice, even if she didn't recognize the person, there was obedience and respect in her words. That wasn't the case for the individual who responded, her character was one she couldn't forget even if she was a withered old grandma diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

Marrybell… It might not be here and now, it might not be by her own hands, but Kallen was going to make sure the renegade doesn't relish in her evil deeds for too much longer.

"We haven't let anyone access the bridge."

"Of course not, I shiver at the notion of anyone intending on getting in here asking for your permission." Sassy as always, Marrybell scoffed at her followers. Or at least Kallen assumed her taunt was serious and not a joke, just because she didn't like the princess.

The Glinda Knight on duty didn't say anything back that could reach Kallen's ears. Soon enough the young schemer took the role of the active speaker again.

"Oz."

Marrybell uttered a single designation, only two syllables. Yet somehow her call had the power to convey the purpose of a whole operation. For not two seconds after she made the demand, the drastic echo of firm footsteps and readied rifles immediately set off the alarms in Kallen's head.

Marrybell's personal elites were out on the prowl, and Kallen was going to end up a juicy quarry if she didn't silently relocate. Please, make it just like the VR training…

Keeping her taxing stance low and the commotion of her shuffle non-existent, Kallen maneuvered around the outermost platform of the bridge to dodge the two knights scouting for any anomalies. Sadly for the hidden one, their game of hide-and-seek wasn't going to last.

This's real bad… I got nowhere to go. Marrybell's right-hand man, and woman, in this case, weren't complete amateurs at executing a room clear. They had unknowingly but without a doubt calculatedly pinned Kallen to the centre of the lower podium, advancing on her from both sides and vanishing her safe refuge in the dark.

"-Movement." A slender yet potent voice belonging to Marrybell's pilot codenamed 'Lyre' announced his discovery and gave Kallen her second panic attack of the day, but her anxious peek over the ridge revealed that he wasn't regarding her.

"What is it?" Marrybell demanded to know.

"It's… a cat?" That was a miracle to rival Zero's own at his peak.

"~Meow, meow."

No fucking way!

"Must be the one Goldfish let through. -Hey, hey! Don't just grab it, 2-2!" Galloping footsteps rushed past Kallen's crafty asylum and lessened in intensity as it crossed the bridge to where the detection was made.

"Just a pet, 2-1. And Goldfish is right, look at her."

"~Meow."

"But it's still a potential threat…!"

"Look at her, 2-1."

"~Meow! ~Meow!"

"But- but…!" The pragmatic critique irrefutably sounded less harsh the second time, and way more feminine. "-Aww~ she is SOOOOO~ cuuute! Gimme- gimme-gimme!"

Archie, bless your furry soul you absolute chad. Did felines not exist in the European colony of Spain or something, because every single so-called special force from that region just loses it after seeing one. Not that Kallen was complaining about this inexplicable phenomenon. Arthur had saved her skin twice in a day, more than most things ever do in their lives.

"Marry, Marry! ~Looky here! Isn't she the cuddliest darn thing you ever seen!?"

"~Meeeow~"

"…She sure is, my pretty, almost as angelic as yourself, Ozzy." The tone in Marrybell's praise sounded too much like it carried in it a slice of consolation, and Kallen didn't like the implication of that.

It humanized the evil princess, which was a sentiment the vengeful Round didn't need.

"-Sokkia! Wanna pet this lovely miss? C'mon!" The gleeful Glinda Knight continued to showboat the greatness of an adorable animal, seemingly uncaring for the etiquette of a chevalier.

"I'll pass, Ozzy. In fact, get her away from me, allergic."

"Oh really? Terribly sorry to hear that."

"I'm more of a doggo kinda chick anyway, more related to me, yeah?" If that was a self-deprecating jab at herself, then that girl was actually pretty cool.

"Yes, yes, this pet is a wonderful little creature, I'm sure. But equally wonderful would be continuing our mission, if the gentleman and ladies are ever at the liberty." Marrybell implored for her best and brightest to act in accordance to their roles, which ironically was a request Kallen could nod along to.

"Off you go, little missy. I see you again soon." Cats were known for their noiseless footsteps, so it didn't bother Kallen that the only racket of treading boots left in the room were the Glinda Knights.

"With me please, Gwen."

"Tch-" That scoff, while lacklustre, was surely from the Prime Minister instituted by the king.

This is err… this is the opposite of good.

And those faint footsteps were rapidly closing in on where Kallen hid. She swallowed the antsy perturbation raising from her stomach, fidgetly reminding herself that none of the invaders were keen to her presence, as there was nothing to glean from pretending otherwise.

"Dame Krushevsky, the briefcase. Give it to me." Marrybell's soft yet formidable voice commanded, its overbearing amplitude located her within five metres next to Kallen, at maximum.

We really gotta be this close?

There was the click of an unlocked handcuff, the tick of a combination lock, and finally the snapping of claps coming undone. Kallen really regretted not paying more attention when Monica gave her an overview of her duty as the Royal Guard Captain, since now she couldn't remember if it was the mind-controlled Round or Lelouch who kept track of the code that activates the football's function.

The tangible tension in the bridge was so thick Kallen hallucinated a suffocating gulp stuck in her throat. Were it not for the pace of her own heartbeat, she'd have almost believed that time itself was paused the moment Marrybell unlatched the briefcase.

"Marry?" That worried inquiry from her personal knight evoked no reaction.

What in the world is going on?

"-Meeow~?" Everyone was getting in on the confusion, although Arthur might just be puzzled by Kallen's jittery state as sweat ran down her forehead.

No, no! Not now, girl! Kallen fanatically flaunted her right hand to shoo away the cat riveted by her gesture, except its effect was the exact opposite of what she desired as Arthur only prowled close and cried louder.

Nothing good lasts forever, I guess. Incredibly, Kallen was less than infuriated. Suzaku's pet saved her twice and was about to bust her once, so it was at least a net positive.

"Marry, what's going on? What's in the case?" Marrybell's favourite ace inched closer, within striking distance of Kallen.

"Humm? What's gotten that girl meowing?" A separate conversation started, accompanied by more footsteps echoing louder.

"…Always- always you…" Marrybell murmured, her undertone seeped in rage. "Always ruining everything I have, LELOUCH!"

Suddenly, a burst of gust whooshed over Kallen's head, the F.L.E.I.J.A football that controlled the fate of the world was furiously thrown from the top platform down to the bottom of the bridge, crashing against the carrier's curved single-pane windshield.

"Jesus, Marry! What happened!?" While her concerned girlfriend was still baffled, Kallen already realized what transpired over the last dozen seconds.

The F.L.E.I.J.A football is empty. Kallen believed. That would be a fitting explanation for everything. The vacant briefcase tossed away by Marrybell was a fine indication of her deduction's accuracy.

Let's Sautee that wound before it gets cold. Trusting in her compulsion, Kallen didn't hesitate to wring Marrybell when she was down. This was her opportunity to seize the initiative, before the curious Glinda Knights converging on her discovers the cause of Arthur's whimper.

We're doing this thing. Gotta make the most of my guts while it lasts.

"-Over here!" Kallen sprung up from behind cover, utterly taking Marrybell by surprise as she yanked the petite princess by her collar over the row of consoles. She dragged the unprepared commander from the upper platform to the lower level, slamming her onto the floor before picking her back up.

"-Wha-the-fuck! Contact, CONTACT!" Marrybell's caramel-haired bodyguard reacted in fright a bit too late, Kallen had already pinned the princess in an elbow hold with a gun to the back of her head.

"Fucking hell-! That voice! -The Comet! Where did she come from!?" The rest of the Glinda Knights added their stupefaction to the pile, many rifles were raised in the shortest instant.

However, their itchy trigger finger was deterred from a press by the captive in Kallen's iron grip. The Knight of Round curtly recalled her rigorous training by Jeremiah in her role as Lelouch's security detail after joining the Britannians, teaching her the exact procedure to take if her VIP was threatened by hostile forces. As for taking hostages though, that was never a part of the program.

And now she understood exactly why. Digging her barrel into Marrybell's temple was the easiest thing in the world.

"Nobody FUCKING move or I'll show y'all what the inside of this woman's brain looks like!"

— —

Author's note

Kept you waiting huh. (this is a recurring quote)

A Kallen focused chapter, almost like she's the protagonist of this story or something crazy. I hope it's not too OOC for her to show fear over her own life, in canon she's always very direct about everything, but here she's got a bit more to lose and I think it's a reasonable direction for her character to go.

Maybe she's a bit too chill most of the time though, maybe the tone is a bit off at the beginning, I'm not too sure how to feel about that. I don't hate it though, also constant high-tension would be tiring to write and read.

This is another long chapter and it's like three AM right now, I can't think of anything else I wanna say except for thank you guys for the support and stuff. I keep talking about how this isn't anything near a great story and whatever, but knowing that so many people are interested motivates me to write (sparingly, but not because I don't want to). I don't really have the time to constantly update my work, but I'm still going steady I think.