Suzaku walked into the room quickly, his cape snapping in the air behind him. "What is the situation?" he demanded. "How is the empress?"
"Our communications are a bit jumbled, but from what we've heard, Empress Nunnally is safe at the moment."
"How did enemies manage to breach the defense around the imperial castle? What was the guard doing?"
"We're still trying to assess. Frankly, the reports we've been given don't make a lot of sense."
"Zero!" another man said in a panic, half out of breath from apparently running in with whatever information he'd gathered.
"What is it?"
"We've received confirmation from the unit guarding the empress."
"Is she safe?"
"The empress is unharmed… however…"
"What?" Suzaku asked, impatiently.
"They are affirming the details of the other reports we've received. I strongly suggest we immediately begin information control measures. We need to censor media reports quickly, before they get a hold of this story themselves."
"Will someone just tell me what's going on already?" Suzaku loudly demanded. Everyone froze, the room getting silent.
"Reports claim… that a large black object was seen in the night sky. The lack of any engine noise or exhaust did not alert anyone to the potential of any weapon. The object was seen in the western sky of Pendragon, proceeding east towards the imperial castle. Several minutes later the first calls went out of the castle being engulfed in flames, and the claims that a black dragon was responsible."
"A… dragon?" Suzaku questioned with incredulity. "I don't have time for stupid…."
"I just spoke directly to Empress Nunnally's guard, which was with her and arrived at the scene of the inferno. They confirm the description and identification of the cause of the blaze as being a black dragon nearly as large as the castle itself.
"They further claim to have encountered and spoken with an individual who apparently commanded the attack. The physical description of the individual, as well as the name the individual gave, is that of the late Third Princess, Euphemia li Britannia."
It was a noisy silence. No one seemed to even breathe, but you could almost hear the buzz of their minds racing through a flurry of thoughts, questions of what could possibly be going on. "And you heard this supposed report from…?"
"It was by the empress herself," the messenger stated.
Suzaku bowed his masked face, staring straight down at the table before him. His fingers slowly clenched into balled fists, and just as slowly relaxed again. He was careful not to let his sigh be heard as he raised his head up again.
"Gather all the support that can be mustered and send them to assist in securing the safety of the empress. Send whoever we have left to assist in the rescue and recovery efforts at the castle.
"I want the information about this event completely sealed off. No one outside of this room or currently with her majesty is to hear a word about what has happened unless I or her majesty permits it directly.
"We have an unknown enemy with a weapon of incredible power. What's more, they've decided to commit the unforgivable act of masquerading as Princess Euphemia li Britannia who died several years ago. Buying into their trick, allowing tales of their treason to spread, is only giving them what they want. We will stop them, and preserve the peace that so many struggled, fought, and died, for us to achieve."
His Order responded to the strength of his words by flying into action to make it real. The room was once again a hive of activity as calls were being made to scattered forces, and to contacts with influence in the broad media landscape. It was going to be a tough haul, however, exercising information control. A place like the imperial castle was not apt to be completely unmonitored by the media, even at night. All it would take is one reporter, one cameraman, for the story to slip out to the rest of the world. For that matter, any loose-lipped member of the royal guard, any common citizen who happened to be out and near enough the castle to see anything, could upset the entire applecart and start spreading rumors.
"We can't let that happen," Suzaku seethed to himself. He knew, rather felt it instinctually, the moment he heard mention of the name Euphemia. Not a word of this allegation could be heard by the rest of the world. Not a soul could be allowed to hear that Euphemia li Britannia, regardless of being a fake, had committed the unimaginable and doused the imperial castle in an ocean of fire.
When Pendragon last burned, it was a brief, quick, fire. The Sword of Damocles descended and wrought untold destruction in an instant, burning away all below it in a flame as hot as several suns. But it ended in an instant and left nothing but a scoured earth where a capital and its castle once stood. The new castle, raised from the ashes near where the old one was once razed, was now like a funeral pyre, burning for near an hour now.
In many ways, Euphemia was a spark that lit that past flame. It was Lelouch's desire to redeem her, to rehabilitate her image in the eyes of the world, that he sought to be known as a tyrant of far worse ilk than his dear sister had come to be known for the massacre his power inadvertently led her to commit. He wanted to wipe the memory of the "Massacre Princess" from people's minds by becoming a demon king. And to rid the world of the demon king, those that opposed him reacted with even greater forces and barbarism. And thus the sword fell. And so a battle to end all battles was fought. And in the end, the king was slain, an empress crowned, and a new castle risen. The fall of the last castle was a consequence of that massacre, begun by the hands of one princess.
To raise the specter of her name once more would be to revive the fear, dread, hatred, that came with it. The wounds of the Massacre Princess were still fresh. It wouldn't take much to reopen them. To have her name attached to such a clarion blow against the new peace brought by Empress Nunnally, such an audacious and brilliant attack, would be beyond redemptive. Her name would be forever tarnished; synonymous with madness, death, and destruction.
As Suzaku and his entourage neared the hangar, the sound of the base's alarms filled the air. Before anyone had a chance to even make the cognitive recognition of what the alarm meant, the entire building rattled violently, as if it were scooped up and shaken like a baby's rattle. There was a beastly cry, though none of them could confess to having any prior recognition of what creature exactly the cry could belong to.
There was another shake, smaller this time. This one was distinctly familiar to most of them as that of an explosion. But it was from a distance away. It was likely near to one of the power relay facilities, or near enough to damage it, as the lights flickered in the switch over to the auxiliary lines. Wherever it originated from was far enough away that no smoke was making its way towards the hangar just yet. But that optimistic thinking lasted merely a moment.
As they gathered themselves and continued to the hangar, Suzaku radioed for information. Just a few feet from the end of the hall, before he could reach anyone on the radio, another seismic shake struck, this one much closer. A corner of the hangar collapsed, sending a cloud of dust and debris racing through the hall. The workers in the hangar were scrambling, trying to put out fires before fuel lines could ignite, rescue those injured by the collapsed ceiling, and finish the preparations for the transports and Knightmares to be scrambled, assuming their pilots could make it to the cockpit.
Again, a bestial roar boomed out, this time so close it could not be mistaken for anything else. From the hole opened in the roof, a black shadow was outlined against the night sky. It was difficult to discern its features as dust plumed past the opening. Suddenly, Suzaku had a bad feeling. It was a feeling he'd become familiar with several years ago, but had since had rare occasion to feel anew – the compulsion towards self-preservation the Geass of his old friend imparted on him. Perhaps that separation of time was why the feeling was so strong.
"Run!" he shouted as loud as he could, darting back into the hall and sprinting away from the hangar. His sudden declaration caused a number of his men to freeze in place, rather than run away as he ordered. A fierce heat soon whipped at the backs of those who ran. The fear kept them from daring to look back at the cause. There was the sound of more explosions, the fuel stores erupting. Even the fuel in the vehicles had likely been ignited.
The only thing that saved Suzaku and those that followed his lead was the collapse of the hallway behind them as they fled. Two unfortunate souls were not quite fast enough and wound up buried in the rubble. Several men tried in rank desperation to grab at the debris to free their comrades. Their efforts were rewarded by severe burns to their hands. The crumbled wall was so hot to the touch, it looked to have already melted back together in some places.
"What the hell's going on?" one of the men yelled.
"We'll head to the armory," Suzaku ordered. "It's not too far from here, and we can gather weapons before we try to leave. If we go out without any weapons, we'd just be sitting ducks for the enemy. Let's go."
What would have normally been a two or three-minute walk was taking much longer now. The power was out, the auxiliary system taken out at about the time the hangar was hit and that hall collapsed. Ever since then, there had been additional sporadic explosions. And that beastly bellow. Every time it resounded it sent a frigid chill to the bone, as if dread and terror were reaching right into your body.
With only the light of a phone to guide their way, they made it to the armory. They had to bust the locks to get the lockboxes opened, no time to even think about searching for a key. Suzaku and the half-dozen or so survivors each armed themselves with assault rifles and a couple handguns, plus some extra ammunition. Without having to say a word, they knew they were setting up for a siege.
Once they made it outside, they were expecting to have to run-and-gun their way past an enemy encirclement, seeking refuge at the nearest location away from all these burning buildings. Chances were they would have to rely on surprise, hope the enemy would assume everyone was already dead in the surprise attack. Using that, they would head for the nearby annex. It was a mostly unused section of the base, but it should have had at least a few trucks that they could use to make a run for it. It wouldn't be anything to fight with, but they were looking only to escape at the moment. With an attack of this magnitude, it shouldn't have been long before there were reinforcements sent to confirm the situation. Buying enough time for that rescue to arrive was the main goal and focus.
It had to have been a Knightmare. A new model perhaps. That was the only thing Suzaku could imagine was able to cause so much destruction so quickly. That was some measure of relief. The layout, location, surroundings, of the base were chosen specifically to repel, and allow escape from, attacks by enemies in Knightmare Frames. The terrain would be easier for a small target like a truck to navigate and flee than if they tried to jump in a Knightmare right now. There were tunnels that could be used if the base were under a full siege, but given the explosions thus far, it was doubtful that any of those passages were free to traverse. And there was no way of circling back to the hangar and hoping the Knightmares there weren't destroyed. Once outside they could make that assessment a little better, but given the sounds of explosions, and the heat that was behind them, it wasn't a likely bet that even his Lancelot was safe. He was confident, of course, that had he been in the Lancelot he could beat any opponent. But those thoughts were all but useless at the moment.
It had taken nearly ten minutes to get to the armory, and almost that much time again to make it to the nearest exit. It was almost surreal how little damage there was to this part of the sprawling base. The percussion of explosions and roars had died down too, now that they were farther away from the origin. Still… those roars.
"What is that?" Suzaku kept asking himself each time he heard it. It didn't sound mechanical. That had been the first thought. The attack, surely, had to have been by enemy Knightmare Frames. It only made sense, then, that any foreign sound not recognized of the base would have to be from the enemy units. But what technology would lead to a Knightmare making such a sound?
His mind kept returning to the report on the attack on the castle. That too, he had thought, had to have been the work of nothing more than clever enemies who snuck Knightmares past the imperial guards to launch their assault. But there were reports of a dragon.
But dragons don't exist. Whatever it was that they saw at the castle, it wasn't a dragon. And it wasn't Euphie. The woman that was once known as Euphemia li Britannia no longer existed. Whatever was seen at the castle was nothing more than mistaken identity, on both accounts of the so-called dragon and its master.
Once they made it outside, it was like a scene from hell. Everything looked to be on fire. Even the roof just above them they now realized was likely moments from collapsing in on them, it too currently roasting. This, they thought, was no average attack by any Knightmare. What destruction there seemed to be looked to mainly originate from intense heat. It was as if the entire area were simply bathed in intense heat and flames.
And looming just ahead of them, seemingly waiting for them to emerge, was a large ashen black beast. It sat on the ground like a crouching statue, its long neck arching its horned head in their direction. With a low, guttural, grumble, hot air as if from a furnace swept over them, sending two of them dropping to their butts. The black beast had a tail like a whip, long and thin, the tip lazily licking the air back and forward. Its front limbs were a part of the construct that formed its wings. The apex of each one was a three-fingered claw. It was a truly imposing creature right out of the most terrifying of fairytales.
They were frozen in place before the beast. It had occurred to them that they should have been already dead. The dragon could have instantly roast them on the spot, and they had no recourse in defending or evading. If there were any mercy to be had, it was in knowing that, given the heat this creature was exuding, death would be all but instant.
Yet it did not attack them. It was clearly aware of them. It was staring at them, like a guard dog watching the door. Every movement one of them made, even if it were a nervous twitch or a weak-kneed collapse to the ground, the dragon's head tracked them. One man, desperate and frustrated, made to raise his assault rifle. The dragon responded with a verbose roar and robbed the man, and else the rest of them, the will or courage to try and move a muscle.
"It's not going to do anything unless we do," Suzaku thought. It wasn't any sage analysis or guessing of the mental calculations of a creature he was sure until a moment ago never lived. It was still that feeling. It was the legacy of his best friend. It was telling him that he was alright, so long as they didn't try anything. It wanted them to wait right there. Yet, if they did wait, what then? Waiting clearly meant someone or something else was coming. That wasn't likely to improve their situation any. Knowing nothing of where this beast came from, the frightening prospect flickered past his mind that this could have been a youngster, a small one, waiting for its mother or father, a truly giant beast, to come.
Just barely audible above the whooshing crackle of the infernos all around, there was a scream. It was a clear shrill, that changed to a stuttered gargle. Then it was gone. As if equally curious as the humans, the dragon turned its head to the side to look in the direction of the death throughs. Silhouetted against the backdrop of a literal wall of flame – what used to be a grounds maintenance shed – was a figure. It looked, through the hazy air, as though the person was holding a cane, standing near a pile of rubble. But the cane looked a bit odd, as though it were too bulky to be a common walking stick. Then they pulled up what at first looked to be a cane, and whipped it to the side. That single fluid motion was indicative of a blade, and the realization was instant. The person was not holding a cane, but a sword. And that had not been a pile of rubble, but the corpse of a member of the Order, more than likely ended by means of being chased down and impaled by that sword.
The figure began to walk their direction. The dragon moved too. With slightly clumsy steps, the beast beat its wings as if to attempt to lift itself with only faint effort. It made a jostling movement towards the approaching killer, circling around behind them.
When the enemy came close enough, Suzaku's heart sank. It didn't make a lot of sense for him to feel quite so crestfallen. Was he heartbroken to see the killer face-to-face? Or was he just so relieved to lay eyes on them?
The entire time, since he started towards the hangar to leave for the capital, he was telling himself there was no way that Euphemia could be alive. There was no way that Euphie would attack anyone, let alone the castle her sisters called home. But part of him was hopeful. Part of him didn't care how or why, so long as she was back. To see her again was the dearest wish he held for the longest time. It took him a long time to admit to himself it was impossible, even as he told others he already knew it.
Seeing this woman dressed in black, her long auburn hair flittering in the gusty scorched wind, Suzaku could be happy that it wasn't his dearest princess Euphie. His love had not committed an act to further tarnish her reputation, loft herself into a new stratosphere of villainy by returning from the dead just to commit fresh atrocities.
But he was sad to freshly be made to realize that desire to see Euphie would not be realized.
But he was sad, and frightened, to see the familiar face of one Shirley Fenette, a friend who died more than five years ago.