Sorry for the battle scene in advance. Been suffering stress migraines the last couple of days and I just wanted to get something out to you all.

Chapter 1

A New Dawn

In a previous life, it had been the corporate building of the Sawano Electronics, one of the leading worldwide producers of electronics. It had been a gem of Japanese architecture and ingenuity, serving to usher in the next generation of building designs that were both modern, yet uniquely Japanese.

That had been before the invasion. Before Britannia had conquered Japan and renamed it with its loathsome area designated as number eleven. Now, it was merely a hollowed out shell, neglected and decaying, a distant memory of many, a den of ghosts for others.

So, if anyone had still used the building, they would have been surprised by the sound of footsteps that seemed to echo throughout the entire building, meeting no resistance from any other source. This went on for several minutes, before finally, a door opened to the stairwell and a cloaked figure shrouded in darkness stepped onto one of the top-most floors. For a moment, the figure merely stood there, looking around as its cloak masked its face, before it began moving again, coming to the eastmost side that looked out into the distance where smoke was beginning to rise.

The figure said nothing, even as debris and detritus shifted aside without being touched, providing an open area for the figure as it strode into the middle of the cleared area, staring outwards for a few moments, before it then sat down only a meter or so from the edge of the building, its legs crossing into the lotus position.

An explosion echoed in the distance, a muffled sound that seemed to fight to reach the figure in a desperate plea. Yet it did not faze the figure, the only sign that the figure was alive was the rise and fall of its shoulders to signify it was breathing.

And then, a single mote of light appeared in front of the figure, followed by another to its left, and then another. Suddenly, as if a signal had passed, more motes of light began appearing until it surrounded the figure, suffusing the area around the figure in a soft light.

"Now," the figure spoke, voice distorted, "shall we begin."


RotF


"Kallen, fall back now, your position's being overrun."

Kallen Kozuki cursed loudly, as she ripped her sword out of a downed Sutherland, spinning her landspinner's wheels to a horrible screech as she ducked behind a building as several rounds ripped divots in the ground and surroundings of where she had just been.

"Don't worry about me Naoto," she commed back, trying to handle the information she was being fed that painted a disastrous picture, "just get as many people as you can out."

"Kallen-"

"Go, dammit. I'll figure something out," she snapped, slipping out from a building and slashing her MVS katana through another Sutherland, before jumping up, her slash harkens latching onto a building before ripping her away from another killzone as she fired a her own responding burst of cannon fire before trying to use the terrain to mask herself, even as her sensors screamed the danger she was in.

Damn Britannia, she thought with a hiss, as a pair of Sutherlands landed around her, one with a lance, while the other attempted to pepper her with its gunfire.

They had all known this had been coming. When Prince Clovis had been recalled back to Pendragon, everything had changed for both the resistance and the JLF, for the worse. Clovis' replacement, Duke Armando Calares, was not the incompetent fop that Clovis had been, and while he didn't immediately launch offensive operations, it was readily evident as he reorganized and revamped his forces, that it was not a question of if, but when.

So when the Saitama Ghetto was completely wiped out down to the last man, woman, and child, it had opened up an entirely new Pandora's Box of horrors, as Calares' strategy became apparent.

Instead of seeking out the JLF that was still largely intact from the war, he was going to force the JLF to respond to his actions, forcing them to fight on his terms, and win. And if the JLF did not rally, then they would lose the favor of the very people that they pledged to protect

Yet, no one, had expected Britannia to strike in another major operation like this only a week after Saitama, but that's what they did.

Kallen, and her brother Naoto, were both in Shinjuku reviewing their cell, the largest of the surviving dozen or so when Shinjuku was cut off. And now, they were in a battle of survival….

That they were losing.

Dispatching the two Sutherlands, the sweat starting to get in her eyes, Kallen took a quick glance at their tactical net, not liking what she saw.

Pound for pound, they were better trained and equipped thanks to the advisors and equipment furnished by the JLF, but the Britannians were just burying them in numbers not caring for their own losses as they attrited down the cell's forces.

"Kallen," it was Naoto again, only this time there wasn't as much energy, "they cut off the escape route. Yoshida's gone, Ohgi said it was the Purists before he went down. They're…"

He didn't need to say anything as Kallen already knew what he was trying to say. All their work in securing an escape route and the Purists had known exactly where it was and we're likely massacring the evacuees, but it also meant that someone had sold them out.

Which meant…

The ground exploded beside her, and Kallen found her Guren tumbling into a building: concrete giving way under her mass. Kallen found herself disoriented from the blast to find a Challenger Mk IV tank had crept up on her, only barely missing her thanks to the smoke and secondaries currently going off. But it now had her dead to rights as its cannon was adjusting to her now.

No, dammit, Kallen mentally shouted, fighting to get her Gekka up even as it resisted, cursing herself for her inattention for something she should have seen, get up! I can't die here! Not while Japan is not free!

Yet it seemed as if those words were frivolous, as the Gekka slow, too slowly, rise from its position and Kallen knew it was too late, and she screamed, letting all of her bottled up emotions loose, unknowing of what she had just done.

But then, to her shock nothing had happened as she moved the Gekka and raised the autocannon to fire, the rounds peppering the armor and a few rounds penetrated the ring between the tank turret and body, setting off the ammunition stored in the crew compartment.

It was in that moment that she felt it. At first, it was a faint feeling of strangeness that just seemed to hover at her periphery, just teasing her to open up, and for a moment, she unconsciously resisted the urge to embrace whatever it was. But then it became persistent, rushing through lackluster defenses like a tsunami through a poorly built wall. Suddenly she could see the entirety of the battlespace, as if she were there, along with a euphoric feeling that if she was brutally honest with herself, was one step away from being orgasmic.

And with it all, she knew what to do, as she let out a breath, her expression shifting to one of determination as everything was provided to her, and her Gekka flew.


RotF


The seated figure actually blinked at the sudden sensation of brushing against someone who shared his gift, taken momentarily aback at the mathematical improbability that should have happened. That momentary falter had resulted in the death of two more before he had reestablished himself, but now he found something that had intrigued him even as he rededicated himself to fulfilling what he had intended to do. He would deal with this wrinkle later.

There was a reason battle meditation was highly sought after power, the ability to change the very face of battle by rallying your allies and demoralizing your enemies was the sort of thing that earned all of its wielders a kill or subvert order by Jedi or Sith.

That wasn't to say he was fully mastered in the ability, far from it, he could still find himself drawn into the emotions and feelings of those he enhanced or impeded, something that could impact the performance of the meditation. But he refused to let that control him here, not on the first step of his trial.


RotF


Viceroy Armando Calares was used to victory in his life, he had cut his teeth over the years as a ruthless tactician who achieved what he had set out to do, regardless of the overall cost. That wasn't to say he was inured to the casualties he suffered in his fights, it was merely a result of achieving victory as quickly and effectively as possible.

Nor was he unaware of the cost upon the enemy as well. The more he killed, the less there were to maintain the imperial machine. But at the same time, he refused to allow his enemy a respite if they chose to lay down their arms then they were treated reasonably.

But if they continued to support an illegal insurgency…

Saitama and Shinjuku were the result.

Of course, there were those that didn't support the rebellion, but in a war against a clever insurgency you did not have the time to sort them out, so there would be innocents killed in the fighting.

But that was war. And he was tasked to inflict the true barbarity of war upon the Elevens. Not out if some misplaced hostility, he did not revel in death, but because the lives spent now would save lives later as the Elevens realized the futility of their actions and chose to embrace the Empire.

And if the JLF and its proxies chose to not yield? Well, they would sooner or later have to make a stand in order to salvage what little reputation they had, or yield. An organization failing to protect those that they champion will soon find themselves without support.

It was only a matter of time, time that had been wasted by that fop Clovis.

"5th Regiment has reported enemy evacuation route has been severed."

"Excellent," Calares responded to the news, looking over the map of the battlefield, "Shift 3rd and 6th Knightmare Regiments along the old Odakyu Line, I want to envelope the northernmost forces while the 5th Regiment presses in with air cover. Colonel Addison, how are your men doing?"

"We've almost cracked their radio cipher, once we have that I can give you the commander of the rebels in a few minutes."

"Good, alert me once your men succeed. General Easton," his gaze shifted to a mousy looking man who had served under him for years, "once we have the location of their commander I want you to a fire mission on that position. From there it's a matter of mop-up."

He blinked, suddenly everything feeling wrong. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it just...like someone had walked over his grave, that he shouldn't even be here.

"What," he paused, his gaze coming to other officers and personnel in the command center, who also looked under the same influence of whatever it was. A part of his rational mind was trying to dismiss it, but at the same time, it just was there.

Then it was broken as the previously unflappable men under his command began reporting a litany of disasters, their calmness giving away to an edge of panic.

"Viceroy, 3rd and 6th Regiments are reporting heavy attack."

"5th Regiment is bogged down and under heavy fire."

"We have Knightmares appearing in Sectors 3 and 7."

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Viceroy, their radio cipher has changed completely. We can't crack it."

"Lazlo team is down."

"Summers has ejected."

"5th Regiment is requesting reinforcements."

"Where the hell is the anti-material rifle fire coming from?!"

To have everything going exactly as planned to this, Calares eyes narrowed, not disputing that things had changed, but that there was no plausible cause for this change outside of the sudden onset of whatever this was.

"We have a Knightmare engaging elements of the 6th Regiment."

"It's only one Knightmare."

No, there was something else going on here, he rationalized, not out of pride, but by the fact that there shouldn't be this amount of trouble. There was only one cell with a handful of knightmares and maybe one upper tier devicer, their source had been thorough in his report.

Immediately he reviewed an alert that had been floating in the army for nearly the last fifteen years. One that was treated like a wive's tale, and if it hadn't been corroborated by both OSI and the Emperor, it would have been kept that way.

"6th Regiment is requesting a fire support mission, danger close!"

"Are you serious?!"

But, he thought as he gazed over the map, lickimng his lips what had previously been one that conveyed a sense of a quick campaign, was turning into something else entirely, something more inherently more dangerous.

"Signal to all units, begin an orderly withdrawal," the voice escaped his lips before he had solidified his position, knowing that he needed more information. Nay, he needed to confer with Pendragon. All of his senses were screaming that there was something wrong with this picture, that the feeling he had just experienced was something the Emperor should be informed immediately, regardless of this battle.

"Viceroy?!"

"The enemy is putting up more resistance than we had expected," he declared, his gaze not leaving the map itself, "it may be that the JLF has finally decided to change the game. If they have chosen to intervene, then we have completed one of our primary objectives, let's not waste assets on the unknown."

"Of course, sir."

Calares drew a breath in, turning away from the map.

"Easton, with me."

"Yes, Viceroy."


RotF


Letting go of a breath he didn't know he had been holding, the figure slowly withdrew himself from his meditation, each string slowly disentangling itself from the grand theater he had manipulated, leaving him weary from using the technique in such a manner. It wasn't just manipulating the battlespace, providing information and morale to his allies, but it was also the effort he had put into dominating the will of the enemy commanders in such a way that they would make the mistakes necessary to open a pathway to victory.

And finally, it had been the Viceroy itself he had turned his focus upon, and had the most difficulty with, the man's assuredness being a difficult hurdle to overcome, he finally did it. Yet, it was probably the most difficult part of the entire effort.

Slowly, he rose from the lotus position, dusting himself off as he contemplated what he had discovered. A Force sensitive, and a decently powerful one at that, even if they were unrefined. That changed quite a few things, requiring a different, more personal touch that he would have to investigate and see if this user could be utilized for the future. Still, he had to wonder if there were others out there. Considering the mathematical impossibility of finding a sufficiently powerful Force sensitive so quickly on a backwards planet such as this…

It must be one of those Will of the Force things, the figure mused with a soft chuckle as he reached the bottom floor of the tower, taking a look around the desolate landscape for a few moments. To him, this was a possible vision of the future, one that he was taking this step on his journey to prevent. Instead of simply a city, it was an entire galaxy, bereft of life and energy, it's structures decaying to the unforgiving elements.

No, he pledged to himself, that will not happen. Not when we have warning and a fighting chance.

So lost in his thoughts, he had almost missed the warning in the Force as the squeal of landspinners ripped his attention to a Sutherland that came barreling out from several of the buildings, it's right arm missing, and several gashes over the entirety of the frame. His hand fell to his a cylinder clipped to his belt on the inside of his robes, just as a Gekka came out of nowhere and delivered a coup de grace to the Knightmare, causing the pilot to eject just in time before the Sutherland exploded.

Relaxing just slightly, he watched as the Gekka turned to him.


RotF


"Hey! Why are you here," Kallen demanded, as she double-checked her sensors, even as she listened into Naoto her focus split between multiple things, "you should be with the-"

She trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the figure she had saved.

It was almost as though he was an orphaned shadow, standing there dressed completely in black. In fact, if it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation, she would have likely laughed at the fact that whoever it was appeared to be wearing a robe of some kind over what looked like armor. Except she could feel a familiar warmth about him, as though it had been his hand that had guided her to victory.

When the figure didn't move, she took the time to look more at him. It wasn't just his attire, but it was the mask, a mask that she knew that behind that T-shaped were a pair of eyes that were piercing into her very soul, measuring her.

"ANSWER ME," she shouted, "were you the one who did...that?!"

If she had expected an answer, she was sorely mistaken, as she felt it, before she saw it. One second he was standing there, his posture relaxed, and the next moment he moved, in a speed that left him a black blur and leaving her completely flabbergasted.

"Hey!"

But it was too late. Whoever it is, they were already gone, leaving Kallen with a hell of a lot more questions, than answers.


RotF


They were questions that still plagued her, two days later, as she returned to Saint Ricardo Academy to fulfill her schooling, much to her chagrin. If it wasn't for Naoto, she would have spent more time trying to salvage what was left of their cell and get the survivors to other ghettos.

To say what they had left would be called a cell would be an understatement. They were broken, the cell that her brother had built up over the last three years was down to a couple dozen personnel and a handful of Knightmares in various states of disrepair. There was likely no way the JLF was going to offer any further support, which left them in a position neither were looking forward to.

Their first option was to try and rebuild, without the support of the JLF, something that was likely impossible with Calares now running things; the second was to join another cell, but the fact that both Naoto and herself were half-bloods, that was likely not going to end well regardless of their performance up until now; third, they would be absorbed into the JLF, an outcome the same as the second, only they would have no flexibility to chart their own course; or finally, they could just quit.

Kallen's jaw clenched stifling the anger that simmered just beneath the surface, whispering for her to give in before she buried it even deeper. It wasn't fair in all of this, they hadn't reached the point they had only to be discarded like trash. They just needed another success to prove that they could still work to achieve Japan's freedom.

"If I may have your attention class," came the voice of their homeroom teacher, Mister Ogden, causing Kallen to rip herself back to the here and now, in order to maintain her facade as dutiful noblewoman, "we have a new student joining our class from the homeland."

With that, he motioned to the door connecting the amphitheater to his office, the door opening up in response to his summons, and a figure stepped out.

Immediately Kallen leaned forward in her seat, attention captivated like the rest of the auditorium as the figure strode to a stop in the center of the pit.

He was tall, the school uniform doing little to hide the physically fit body that lurked beneath, instead serving to enhance it. His raven hair was swept back into a ponytail with a pair of bangs framing that served to highlight aristocratic features and amethyst eyes that you could only drown in their depths if you looked too long.

But it was his presence, even Kallen could feel it from here, his presence commanded respect and attention. And niggled something at the back of her mind, screaming that she should know this person.

"My name is Julius Kingsley," the boy introduced himself, a warm, inviting smile on his face, the kind that could leave girls and a few guys in a puddle, and Kallen could feel his eyes staring straight at her, "it's a pleasure."


Now, to answer your questions that you have considering 1) Naoto is still alive, 2) Kallen is 18, which means its R2 territory in canon, and 3) why it seems that Shinjuku is starting later than it should be in canon. The answers come down to Lelouch himself, and how his kidnapping has changed everything. You'll see more in coming chapters just the type of effect it has had on Britannia. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them either in review or in PM, and I'll try and answer them. Until the next chapter.