Julia awoke with a sudden, desperate gasp, as if she had been drowning moments before. In her dreams, at least, she was. Her body was damp with sweat, and she panicked momentarily, thinking that she was still underwater, in those cold, dark depths.
You can't escape.
The words whispered in her mind, quiet and far away, yet to her, they were louder than a gunshot.
She chalked the nightmares up to the atmosphere of Japan. Maybe in her second home Lelouch was struggling to resurface, just as she did in Europe. Not this time. Not while she knew.
She swung out of bed, her feet wobbling as she stood up. Her hands shook, almost uncontrollably. The nightmares were all too real to be a coincidence.
In time, in time.
The first thing she did was grab a nearby vanity mirror, gold trimmed and embedded with jewels. The red glow was there again. The geass, barely inactive. It was faint and indistinct, the bird symbol clouded and blurry. But it was there.
"Not again." She said, digging around the drawer below the nightstand. Her hand fell upon soft silk and on hard, but pliable plastic. The crystals that hung from it swung and reflected the light pouring from the floor length windows, casting her hand in soft lavender light.
The eyepatch. In Lelouch's memories, a gilded cage, binding her to another's will. In her's, a lifeline. She shakily fastened it, feeling the familiar clicks as it fastened into place.
The slowly warming air around her eye, the weight of the fabric, the tinkle of the jewels, even the lack of depth perception and peripheral vision. Every bit of it made her feel comfortable. Safe. The past would not bother her now. It was unfortunate that she needed the other eye. She couldn't even count how many times, especially during the first few days, surrounded by nightmares and pain, that she tried to claw out the offending organ. Somehow, reeling from memories and sadness, she attributed it all on her eye.
Julia left the sheets on the four poster bed as they were for the maids. She remembered how they had continually insisted that they should handle the housework, not her. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, all of it. It was irrational for Julia herself to refuse, but something drew her to keep doing it to keep herself occupied. When the workload had caught up over the last two weeks she gave up, leaving it to them. But there was one thing she always refused help with. They could take care of her all they wanted. They could scrub the house clean until it shined like glass. They could starch her shirts until they felt like wooden boards. They could stuff her full of food until she died of a heart attack. But she would dress herself.
The room was Victorian in nature, with all the hallmarks. Four poster bed, gilded wooden furniture, paintings lining the walls, but the walk-in closet was very much modern. Fluorescent lighting, silvery, matte metal, smooth sliding doors and compartments. Clovis was an artist, and even in this estate, far away from the center of the city, his touch was in every room. Or, in this case, his creations.
The main bedroom was by far the worst offender, but even in this room, a ton of clothing had lived in the closet. Suits, coats, scarves, shawls, dresses, swimwear, lingerie. Literally every kind of clothing imaginable was here. Julia had immediately moved out all of it, categorizing every article and shoving it all into the main closet downstairs.
With only her clothes, the closet suddenly seemed vast and empty, sterile almost. She paid it no mind. A shirt was grabbed at random and buttoned it up. Julia kept some of the less gaudy, more pedestrian articles for herself to use, mostly shirts.
She fell into a quiet rhythm amidst the hum of the air conditioning. She started from the top Buttons passed hands and loops, fastening one side of fabric to the other. There wasn't any rush. She had plenty of time before she was expected anywhere.
She pondered what she would make for breakfast. Eggs? Pancakes? Definitely something simple for Nunnally to eat. Toast, perhaps? It'd have to be quick, or else they'd be late for-
"No," she whispered. "No. Nonononononono." Julia sank to her knees and grabbed her head, the last few buttons on the shirt forgotten. It couldn't happen. Not like this. Not now. She willed it away. Tried to banish the memories from taking root any further. But every thought of Lelouch's sister made her heart leap and eyes tear up.
Another memory came in. The SAZ incident. The massacre. Euphie.
My fault.
Her fault.
My fault.
Her fault.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" She screamed. It didn't matter who heard at this point.
"Mistress?" She snapped her head at the voice. Her vision flitted between visions of cold steel walls and the dull aluminum of the walk-in closet.
STOP! STOP IT! IT HURTS! IT HURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!
"Are you alright, mistress?" Who was it, who was talking? Sayoko? One of Suzaku's hires? She couldn't tell. Voices and sound blended together.
Her vision cleared, and there they stood, One, Two, and Three. In front of her. Staring at her. Geass in their eyes.
What's my name?
Julia cracked open her eyes. Everything was soft, unfamiliar. This wasn't the smooth, icy metal of the closet anymore. She rubbed the haze away and found herself face to face with a pattern of vines on silky cloth.
She sat up, turning over a rough blanket that had been placed over her. It took no time for her to figure out she had been moved here. But by whom?
She had passed out not long after the episode in the closet. That at least she could remember. The attack was over, at least. Her eye felt singed behind the eyepatch.
Julia looked around the room, with the one eye she had available, at the shelves of books, the grandfather clock ticking away slowly, the glass table looking quite out of place in the room. The paintings along the walls. She was still in the manor. She looked down, finding herself wearing a white blouse and dress pants. She frowned at the invasion of her privacy, whether it was necessary or not.
"Mistress, you're awake!" Julia heard from behind her. A young maid, no older than herself, with curly red hair stepped in, carrying a platter of breakfast foods. She almost ran over, setting down the platter before standing aside.
"Thank you, ah-" Julia didn't remember the names of the servants very well.
"Lucy, mistress. Lucy O'Dall." The girl bowed, hands clasped at her waist.
"Lucy." Julia repeated the name, "How did I get here?" There wasn't much need for formalities.
"One of the other maids, Alice, I think it was, heard you yelling from outside your room, Mistress. She found you in the wardrobe with only a shirt on, curled up on the floor passed out. We know you said not to interfere with your dressing in the mornings, but we decided in your state, well, that we should take care of that before bringing you down here."
Julia frowned lightly.
"If this displeases you, Mistress, feel free to punish us. We disobeyed a direct order from-,"
"Stop right there." Julia raised a hand as well to silence the maid. "There will be no punishment. You had my best interests in mind." She closed her eyes and sighed. "You are dismissed."
Lucy walked out of the room. Julia noticed the change in the girl's gait. Slightly less stiff, relaxed almost.
Of course she scared the staff. She was a military official, a high ranking tactician no less, with the ear of the emperor himself. They probably thought she'd have their heads on pikes if they displeased her.
She moved her attention to the breakfast platter. It was all finger foods. Sandwiches, muffins, fruits, small blocks of cheese. Beside the white porcelain plates was a carafe of hot coffee, totally black. It didn't take long for the staff to catch onto her preferred routine of drinking coffee.
It was with the first bite of blueberry muffin that Julia realized how ravenously hungry she was, tearing through the meal in what was probably unsightly fashion. Apparently mental breakdowns do wonders for one's appetite.
Once sated, she sat back. Almost on cue another servant, an older man probably used to the profession, came to pick up the silver platter and dishes before dropping off a folio of dispatches addressed to her.
Nothing of note was contained in the first few papers, just the normal reports. Criminal gangs stopped, reports of petty crime, mostly the day to day events of law enforcement. She turned them over with a bored eye.
The last two papers she stopped at, the coffee cup pausing halfway to her mouth.
Two shipments of Burais being sent to the scrapping yard raided. All personnel dead, All Burais stolen.
Well that was grim. She flicked through the report. No transmissions were sent. No security footage was recovered. Julia gave them credit. They knew what they were doing.
She sipped her coffee again. Why in the world would someone steal outdated knightmares?
She perused the timeline in the report, noting the exact moments when communications stopped. The report was too short, by no fault of the senders. Whoever the culprit was, they didn't want to be found.
She pulled out her phone, calling for a car to be prepared immediately. Perhaps there was something that the investigators missed.
Julia downed the rest of the now warm coffee before briskly striding towards the front foyer of the manor.
From the muffled, tense shuffling she heard the servants assembling by the door.
"Mistress." She heard the assembled chorus the moment she opened the door to the main chamber of the house. She looked down at them, an almost rag-tag looking group of five.
Lucy stood on the rightmost, holding her cloak. Two other maids stood at Lucy's side
along with three male servants.
The maid beside Lucy, a middle aged woman, held a large military-style coat to Julia. She took it from her with a nod before swinging it around her shoulder, threading her arms through the sleeves in one swift motion.
"Have a safe trip." Lucy said to her mistress as she handed over the cloak. Much like the ones assigned for the Knights of the Round, Julia's cape denoted her position as a close associate of the emperor. She clasped it onto her shoulders and passed on through the front doors.
The heat immediately enveloped Julia the moment she walked out into the bright, oppressive light. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. She almost ran to the waiting car, a plain black sedan. She threw open the front passenger door and scrambled in, basking in the cool air conditioning. She barely noticed her driver to her right as she buckled in.
"Where to, Julia?"
Julia's eyes widened in shock. Her real name shouldn't be known to anyone here, not even the servants. Did she mumble it in her sleep? Her pistol was already out and cocked, ready to question the driver to his identity.
Of course, that wasn't necessary. Midway through bringing her sidearm out she could feel it lighten. Her eyes narrowed at the driver, knowing exactly who it was.
"You seem a bit annoyed. Looking for this?" He held the magazine in his hand, dangling it in front of her.
She snatched it out of his hands and angrily checked the bullet count before stashing it and the pistol in her back pocket. "So what are you doing here, Rolo?"
"The order sent me to keep tabs on you, and deliver a message. Master V.V and The Emperor are getting impatient. You've been inserted for two weeks and yet not a single clue or lead on where C.C is." Rolo looked off to the side while addressing her. "I don't even think you did anything to find her."
Julia rolled her eyes. "Next time you talk to them tell they I've got a plan. As long as I'm here in Japan Lelouch will try to assert herself, no matter what she wants. That witch won't be able to resist coming back here."
"Careful, big sis. You're slipping again." Rolo chastised.
"I thought I told you to stop calling me that. Whatever. I'll drive, you won't know where it is." She unbuckled her seatbelt. "Move over."
The crash site was as swelteringly hot as the manor, even worse now that it was the middle of the day. Julia had taken off the cape and overcoat, stashing them in the car down the road.
The Burais were being sent by armoured train to a scrap heap. By all reports the train had been stopped at a signal light momentarily before being pounded by heavy duty fire. The few defense troops on board didn't stand a chance.
Julia and Rolo walked down the tracks to the perimeter, from where the road split away from the railroad tracks. Although quite hot, Julia managed much better in only a blouse and military vest rather than a full overcoat and cape. The air was much more humid here, with all the trees and the lake nearby. They were close to Mount Fuji, and by extension the outer areas of the SAZ.
The edge of the perimeter was coming up soon, set up one kilometer in every direction from the wrecked train.
"Who goes there?" Julia heard a voice directed at them from the checkpoint up ahead, marked by pairs of simple waist high concrete barriers forming several wide chevrons with the points headed away from the wrecked train down the road. A Knightpolice Frame kneeled off to the side, in regular white blue and red, but with an odd attachment to the head. The red "crown", as that was as well as Julia could describe it, radiating red spires upwards and outwards from the forward portion of the head. Small whirring noises emanated from the tips as they spun around. "Only two of us." She yelled back.
"State your name and business." The soldier to her left said to her and Rolo as they approached the barriers. Julia pulled out her badge, an engraved plate with gold filigree, as was the norm for objects of high status in Britannia. She handed it over to him. With a flick of the wrist a green-tinted image appeared, showing her name and credentials.
"I'm here to examine the site." She said matter-of-factly. As a high commander, she pretty much had free reign for the most part. No need to deal with bureaucratic red tape.
The soldier pulled open the face mask, revealing a dark, clean-shaven face and similarly dark eyes. He turned over to the Knightpolice frame and the group of other soldiers there.
"Hey Skull!" He called out. "Come show these two around!" One of the soldiers, sitting down, looked up at them. All of them were without helmets, and the man who looked at them had short, strawberry blond hair. He picked up the helmet and fastened it while approaching them at a light jog.
"Who the hell are these two Miller? Who's the chick with the eyepatch?" Skull asked. Julia should have berated them right then and there, and only didn't because she had pretty much no identification to her rank, with her coat and cape in the car.
"Ha ha, you probably shouldn't be talking like that." Miller patted Skull on the shoulder, a sudden air of smugness in his voice. "This is High Strategist Sophia Patton. She's so high up on the ladder that she has the ear of the Emperor himself."
Julia saw Skull's eyes narrow at her upon hearing her rank said aloud.
Miller continued. "She's here to inspect the site, and make a-uh, professional judgement. Now then. I'll go get Ricky to start his watch. It's too freaking hot out here."
Skull sighed, obviously annoyed. "Follow me." He gestured to them tiredly before walking. Julia and Rolo followed closely behind.
As they went farther down the tracks, there were more soldiers and a few personnel in blue jackets, the investigators. Julia looked around and saw more and more uprooted trees, gouges of earth around them. At some points there were more potholes than actual flat ground. A few, larger craters made their appearance, scattered and sparse. She wondered what could make such impacts and get away so well. Artillery gun? No, the craters made impact points that were lopsided, too lopsided. The guns had to be fired from close range, or at least at a fairly horizontal trajectory.
Skull interrupted her train of thought. "So, what are you going to do? Court martial me?"
"Hm?" She responded.
"I disrespected a superior, hell I disrespected a noble, directly in front of them. Whenever that happens, it's usually a flogging. Well guess what. I don't give a damn. I don't care about what you're going to do to me. I'm not scared of some sheltered-ass noble." He had stopped walking and got up right into her face, looking down from his taller stature.
Julia snorted lightly. "What makes you think I'm a noble? Hell, what makes you think I'll punish you?" She warily looked over at Rolo, slightly seething under his sweat covered brow.
"Oh come on, you can't exactly hide it. Some young girl like you making High Strategist? Out of fucking nowhere? You only got your job because somebody kissed up to the Emperor more than everybody else. You don't look like much, hell, Basic would probably have killed you. You're probably here because you haven't even set foot in a fucking fight yet!" Skull started yelling at her. She could hear Rolo breathing heavily now as well, and it wasn't from the walking.
"All of you are the same, just a bunch of stuck up, pompous idiots circle-jerking each other thinking that who your parents are matters more than what you can do. And guess what, princess, it doesn't! All of you will just turn tail and run the moment shit hits the fan. All of you will just abandon those under you the moment things go bad. You'll do it too, you pampered bitch. So punish me, punish me for telling you off. Show me that your tiny little ego can't take a-"
Rolo charged forward, grabbing Skull by the neck and pinning him to the ground, knife instantly at the ready to carve Skull's throat to ribbons through the protective layer between steel and skin.
"I've fucking had it with you." He seethed, slamming Skull's head into the gravel. "You do NOT disrespect big sister. Ever." He punctuated the last word by bashing Skull's head again.
"Do it, Shrimp." Skull pressed his own throat, although hidden by the fabric, into the blade.
Julia smirked. Even in the face death this man was abrasive and confrontational. "Let go of him, Rolo." She commanded. The tawny haired boy begrudgingly got up and helped Skull up as well. "But he-" Julia cut him off.
"It's fine." She reassured her 'handler'.
"Now then, Skull." She turned her attention to the soldier. "I forgive you for your language earlier. You had no idea who I was and that was plain to see. And I'm sorry about Rolo. He's a little, how you say, attached." Rolo had seemingly returned to his former natural nonchalant state, but only seemingly. She could see his neck muscles strained and ready, like a predator restrained. Skull looked slightly surprised, bemused possibly.
"But this, this is something else. You said it yourself, you mouthed off a superior, knowing full well that I was your superior. To be honest I should have you killed or at least dishonorably discharged." She checked her nails, playing up her image slightly. "But I won't. I'm not a petty person. I don't have much of an ego. However there still must be a punishment." She didn't have to look at Skull to know he tensed up.
"I want…" Julia let it hang in the air for a moment, "your name."
"What?"
"That's right, I want to know your name." She repeated herself, slightly annoyed.
"Are you kidding me? What kind of punishment is that? What, is this some kind of joke?"
"I do not believe you're in a position to believe that it is a joke. Especially since your other option is being gutted like a fish right here, right now."
Skull tsked before answering. "It's Sully Collingwood. Sgt. Sully Collingwood."
Julia smiled devilishly. Such a small thing, but it was fun playing with Skull. Almost as fun as tormenting Suzaku, but that was a different matter.
"Consider this your first and only warning, Sgt. Sully. If this happens again, well, I don't suggest starting any long books. Now then, shall we move on?"
Skull begrudgingly turned and continued walking.
The sweltering sun rose in the sky as the time approached midday, approaching its zenith above Julia. Viable shade along their path lessened by the minute, forcing them under the powerful glare of the sun. She tried to ignore it. It wouldn't help to look uncomfortable around Skull after browbeating him about whether or not she was capable as a soldier of her position. She couldn't afford to swelter and buckle while Skull trudged on seemingly unfazed.
There were whispers coming from the various ground crews they passed, quietly muttering as they excavated fragments of metal and analysed craters. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they way they looked away from her when she cast her gaze at them told her all she needed to know. Apparently rumours spread fast.
The ground became almost untenable to walk on, the dirt steadily replaced by wooden boards and several-foot deep holes. The command tent itself was now visible, the support poles pitched in odd places over boxes and boxes of materials and evidence.
A balding man turned towards the approaching group, pulling a sloppy salute that Julia quickly returned.
"I'm sorry about the accommodations commander. We couldn't get a car or knightmare to come pick you up, what with the condition of the tracks and all." He nervously dabbed sweat off his brow.
"It's fine," She snapped, acting slightly miffed. That was the problem with making a fake impression. You have have to keep it around. She made a small show of looking around unimpressed, soldierly almost.
"What have you all found so far?" She could see some tables around with lab equipment and microscopes.
"Not much directly. Whatever made this happen," The man, who Julia now assumed was the head of the ground crew here, gestured around the broken landscape, "it didn't use shells. No casings or anything around here for miles."
Julia thumbed her chin. "Any truck tracks? Any idea where they were firing from?"
"We did find two sets of tracks, deeper than any knightmares in production or service." The man went over to pick up a sheet of paper. It had pictures of deep tracks with muddled track patterns.
"You can see it gets deeper here, where the tracks end. That's where it fired from." The crewman pointed. " But we don't get is why the rear is slightly deeper and more patternless than the front. Here we can still make out the outside of the pattern. What all this means that we can't compare them to any tires we know."
He was right. As the tracks moved away from the abrupt end the edges tire patterns jumbled around.
"Doesn't that mean there were multiple wheels then? And that there's no tracks?" She asked.
"To be frank, madam, that doesn't narrow things down by much."
"No, it doesn't. But we know that whoever took these Burais is well equipped, especially now." She mused again at the timing. There had to be a reason why they knew to attack this train, and why they did. An armoured train full of old, outdated frames was a weak target compared to a depot filled with new prototypes. Far less risky of a target to, once one factored in the possibility for mechanical failures in the old Burais. There had to be a reason. She thought back to the group that had attacked the Baronet of York's estate. Was it them? Probably. With the SAZ and increased military presence after the Black Rebellion, few Japanese resistance movements remained in the country. Most of the disgruntled and disenfranchised were now Britannians, angry that their conquests were being taken away from them. As the population of the SAZ expanded, the protestors grew, both in number and audacity. Unfortunately, the anti-Japanese sentiment was still strong, with many officers and military units refusing to operate and investigate inside the new demi-state.
"Sir!" A CSI Knightpolice frame showed up, the black and blue colouring making it instantly recognizable. The pilot hopped out, a solid orange box in his arms.
"Yes, what is it?" She heard the response from the balding man.
"We've found a downed Burai in the hills, it's filter was faulty. Most of it was broken down already too." The pilot took a moment to catch his breath. "But we found this: A telemetry recorder." He handed the box off to a tech, who hooked it up to a laptop on one of the tables.
Julia looked as surprised as the foreman. A telemetry recorder would let them see the events that happened for the time that it was powered on.
After a few minutes of furious typing the laptop monitor flickered to life, showing a dark green field with light green grid lines and white contour lines. The train tracks were marked as well, running diagonally across the screen. From where the IFFs stood they had already derailed.
"So the emergency power turned on after the train crashed." The foreman said.
"It would seem so." Julia responded. With the way contour lines formed on the radar map they were still being bombarded. They looked to the point where they had found the deeper tracks and lo and behold, a bunch of individual IFFs clumped together. Six in fact.
Julia looked at it. 4 IFFs clumped together, obviously in a line. She racked her brains together. It looked familiar, where had she seen this before? Where? Where?!
The Kawaguchi Lake Conference. It was the cannon that was used in the tunnel to destroy oncoming KMFs. The one Suzaku destroyed. She quietly and begrudgingly thanked Lelouch's memories.
"I know what fired at the train now." She pointed at the 4 Knightmares.
"What, that clump of knightmares over there?" The operator replied.
"Yes, I've seen this before. I-It's a large cannon built using several knightmares. I saw one built on a similar frame in Europa." She lied. "They used an originally Eleven design. Apparently they call it a Raikou Cannon."
"A Lie-Cow cannon?" The foreman responded with a failure to enunciate the japanese intonation properly.
"Raikou," Julia repeated herself, "The Japanese word for lightning. I believe this time it is an energy cannon, if the lack of shells are to be believed."
The foreman grumbled. The screen sprung to life again, showing a dozen IFFs suddenly burst out of the forest, all red.
"Enemy knightmares." The foreman sounded grim. Without pilots, it was up to the surviving soldiers on board the train to mount a desperate last stand.
"Is there a voice or comms recorder, or anything with camera feed?" Julia asked the CSI pilot.
"No, all the other recorders were crushed. I found this one jammed between the seat and the front screen."
The enemy units moved in. Julia noticed they were disorderly, little cohesion to their ranks. This wasn't a calculated assault. This was a mad rush. The Burais began to move, the first train car's units now forming up on the other side of the tracks. And then, as quickly as they came, they left. The group moved northwards for a few minutes before splitting away, scattering. It was at that moment that the Burai the recorder was attached to stopped.
"That would be the faulty filler kicking in."
There was another KMF beside it, the make unknown but it was definitely one that the attackers used to get to the train. The last bit of recording was a missile incoming message before the screen went dark once again.
"They scuttled the Burai." The foreman said, and everyone in the tent was in full agreement.
"They didn't do a very good job of it." The pilot chuckled to himself.
"They did enough of a job." Julia interjected. "We can't catch them like this, all we know is that they're well armed and very dangerous. Organized, no. But dangerous, yes."
"It's probably some Eleven group or something. They even have that Rikey, Raican, Rai-"
"Raikou." Julia corrected the pilot.
"We have to think about motive as well." The foreman said, dabbing at another spot of sweat. "They don't have much of a reason to do this. What do they need old, decrepit knightmares for? There's not exactly a war to fight anymore."
"Whoever it is, this is about as far as we're going to get to finding them by combing the dirt." Julia said. "Get to analysing this stuff, see if anything's been going on. I need to go report all of this. Keep me posted, gentlemen." With a salute she turned away with Rolo in tow, starting on the dreaded trek through the heat back to the car. Skull was long gone too.
"Is all according to plan?" V.V asked from his sitting perch.
"Everything is coming together. Soon this broken world shall be whole again." The Emperor stood on the edge of an unending sky. If he took one step, it was likely he would fall forever. "All we need now is her. Even the womb has been found."
V.V smiled. "We're nearing the end, Charles. So much time, and soon, it'll be over. Soon, we'll have our Nirvana."
"What about that other nuisance? What about her?" The Emperor asked, not even turning.
"I doubt she can act at this point, Charles. Too much time has gone by. I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot the real world existed at this point."
Charles stared at the grey twist that formed in the sky, threatening to pierce the heavens above with its seemingly unending double helix. The Sword of Akasha was complete.
Soon. Very, very soon.
A/N: No, I'm not dead, just adding the last part of the crime scene... scene in. I needed time to rewrite it because it didn't feel good to me the first time. Exam season is in full swing for me so I'll be back up and running with a new chapter for you all by next Sunday. That's a promise
EDIT: 2/6/17: I originally wanted to write over the weekend, but I had somewhere to go, so I decided the write on my laptop. With no net I had to use Word instead of posting into my giant Google Doc. Long story short, laptop dead, hard drive fried, have to restart. Between school as well.