I should have probably stated this before, to help clear up some things. But, Lelouch was born a.t.b. 1999 , which translates as roughly 5 Years ABY, or for those of you who want it more specific: 1 Year AFTER the Battle of Endor. Revan meets with Thrawn a year after that, or a.t.b. 2000 From there, it is now early a.t.b. 2018 on Earth, 23 Years ABY Galactic Standard, or 19 years after Endor now, give or take.. Hopefully that clarifies a few things for everyone.
Just some advanced warning. The last scene is rather dark, and creepy. But why this is will be explored more in the next chapter. If you are expecting canon, you are sadly mistaken. Especially if you have a certain point of view regarding a certain sisterly character.
Chapter 2
Excitement. Adventure. A Jedi Craves Not.
Brown eyes watched impassively as the sun began to set upon Nirauan, the owner of said eyes lost in thought at the datapad that sat upon the railing in front of him.
How could he have missed it, he wondered to himself as he contemplated the news provided to him by his grandson. Had he been that out of sync with the Force that he hadn't even realized what he had been residing upon.
It wasn't the news that Lelouch had found a decently powerful Force-sensitive that surprised him, mathematically there was always a slim margin for that considering. No, it was the news that was added to it.
Once Lelouch had found one when he wasn't even looking, he had decided to actively search, and what he found both excited and terrified Revan.
Not only had his grandson found dozens more sensitive in the Force in the very city he had chosen as his base of operations; he had discovered that Earth was a kriffing Force Nexus, of all things.
Just what had happened to make it such a place? That was what worried him, because for all intents and purposes...it just shouldn't be.
Running a hand through his hair that was greying, he couldn't help but feel like the Force was trying to tell him something, warning him, but for the life of him he couldn't define what it actually was. Just what had happened to create such a situation? And what was the risk to his grandson?
He had sent him to Earth as a final trial. Had that been a mistake?
The door chime drew him from his thoughts as he stepped away from the patio and entered back into his office.
"Enter," he called, taking a seat the desk, which was strewn with dozens of datapads dealing with minutiae of running the Empire of the Hand. It was something that had fallen to him after Thrawn had left him in charge of the organization upon his return to known space.
The door to his office opened and General Baron Soontier Fel stepped in, followed by another man, dressed in clothing that could pass for civilian garb if not for the armor that was hidden underneath, a lightsaber clipped at the man's side.
"General," Revan greeted, "Master Marek. I apologize for drawing you away from your duties, but I've found myself in a situation and I would like your input. Please take a seat."
With that, the two men did, allowing Revan a few moments to organize his own thoughts for the matter.
"General, how many Arbiters can we spare for rapid deployment to Earth?"
The former commander of the 181st Fighter Squadron blinked, somewhat taken aback by the question. What had gone wrong that Revan was asking for Star Destroyers?!
"Three," he responded, "I think I can scrape up a fourth, the Indomitable is in the middle of her trials at the moment, but Captain Thren is reporting that she's performing green across the board."
"Master Marek, how many Knights can you spare?"
Galen Marek, commander of the military arm of what was unofficially referred to as the Order of Revan, sat there quietly, obviously considering the question. But that was fine with Revan, Marek's opinions had become one that he had valued quite highly.
The story of Galen Marek was one that was whispered by those who were familiar with the early days of the Rebellion, both because of the unconventionality of the man's origins, but also because of how it all ended. Galen Marek had been a hero for the Rebellion for his actions in saving the leadership in the early days of its forming, his family crest used as the symbol of the rebellion.
That same honor had not extended to his clone, despite his actions in capturing Darth Vader on Kamino. Instead, it had been met with derision and suspicion as Darth Vader was subsequently rescued by Boba Fett not shortly after while he was being transferred to Dantooine. This had started the eventual disappearance of not only Galen, but Juno Eclipse, who had carried on where she had left off with the original Marek.
Unfortunately, Senator Garm Bel Iblis had still quite a bit of power at the time, and he had sought a scapegoat for this failure, with all of it coming to rest upon Juno Eclipse's shoulders, both for the loss of the Salvation, but also Vader's escape. This, along with the fact that the clone was 'inconvenient' for the Rebel Alliance, since they already had a hero in the original, it had ended with Galen and Juno leaving the Rebellion. Faced with the fact that they would have been hunted by both the Rebellion and Vader, they had gone into hiding on Artorias, in the Outer Rim. Not exactly an unnoticeable choice, but it was one that paid dividends as the Empire had not cared about the planet, and the Rebellion had its hands full with other things, like the rise of new heroes like Luke Skywalker.
It had only been through the assistance of several assets that Revan had even gotten a whisper of the former apprentice. Recruiting him had been more difficult considering both the man's upbringing, but also the fact that in the years he had raised a family.
"I can give you Aurek and Besh Teams, they've been itching for a bit of action since that fight with the Vagaari. But I would like to know why you are asking for all of my ready squads."
"Because it appears that Earth has significantly more strategic value than previously believed. It not only appears to possibly have a significant Force-sensitive population that may dwarf what currently exists in the galaxy, but according to Lelouch, it also appears to be a Force Nexus."
Garen cursed, while the Baron looked pensive, knowing full well what a Force Nexus entailed considering he was now surrounded by several Force users had required him to take a crash course in aspects of the Force.
"I can get another two teams around in a week or so," Marek spoke now, eyes flinty, "along with myself if need be. Kanos can handle everything while I am gone"
"That will be appreciated," Revan responded, "In addition, I will also be personally overseeing this as wel. While I do intend for Lelouch to finish his trial, I still want to be ready if there are complications. If there are, well, I don't think that planet can stand what we can bring to bear upon it, don't you?"
"No," Fel agreed with a nod, "still, the Ascendency is going to want to know why we are pulling so many ships off patrol."
That was one wrinkle to the entire equation, Revan had actively reached out to the Chiss Ascendency for an alliance, working very closely with the Chiss as a result of their mutual interests and for the equipment and knowhow on ship design that the Empire of the Hand provided. As a result, what had been a relationship where the Chiss had merely ignored the organization founded by one of their own gone rogue, was now a relationship that was mutually beneficial.
"I will inform the Ruling Families of our intentions. I think they will be intrigued at the possible benefits if we can secure Earth to use against the Vong."
And it may just be the solution I'm looking for, he thought to himself, though his frown deepened when he looked at a picture of two people, even if the price will likely be too steep.
RotF
"Suzaku-sama. Suzaku-sama!"
A loud groan was the only response as one Suzaku Kururugi's body flopped on his bed, hand flying over the nightstand and knocking a bottle on the ground, a small miracle that all that was heard as a loud thunk as the bottle hid wood.
"Suzaku-sama, you need to wake up," came the plea from the maid, who tried to nudge her boss again, before going to open the curtains to let light into the room.
"Huh. Wha-," green eyes blearily opened, before slamming shut and their owner hissed at the feeling of an ice pick being shoved into his brain.
"Suzaku-sama," the maid continued, "Kozuki-san is here."
Eyes opened again, Suzaku hissing as he willed away his exhaustion and the fact that his head felt like it was going to explode, "When," his voice croaked.
"Ten minutes ago, Suzaku-sama," the maid replied, waiting with her hands folded in her lap, "he said it was urgent," she added as he brought his feet down to the floor, his arms bracing him up even as he felt the urge to sway, eyes slowly focusing as his mind began gathering itself.
Groaning, he ran a hand through his wild hair as he rose to his feet, taking a robe from another maid and wrapping his boxer-clad figure in it. Then he looked to the head maid who had woken him.
"How do I look," he asked, trying to inject a bit of levity in the situation, despite easily recognizing the disgust in her eyes.
"You look fine, Suzaku-sama," the woman demurred, continuing the dance that had been ongoing for the last two years between them. They both knew that he knew her feelings on how he carried the Kururugi name.
Oh, if she only knew, he thought darkly, resisting the urge to already start drinking this morning, as he strode past her.
When Genbu Kururugi had been captured by Britannian special forces during the invasion of Japan, the role of head of house had then fallen to then ten year old Suzaku. And in the days after the annexation of Japan, the young boy had literally been left on his own, buried by both his role, but also the demands of the people who had worshipped the Lion of Japan, looking to him to be that second coming. It had honestly been too much for the young boy.
Especially considering he had been the one who had given the location of his father in order to stop the fighting.
It could have easily been construed that he had been too young to understand, too naive in his thinking, that selling out his father would achieve nothing except cementing Japan's annexation by Britannia. He had done it with the pledgethat Britannia would do the right thing and treat the Japanese like equals, believing the words of their Ambassador.
How stupid he had been.
Not only had the Britannian's gone back on the promise he had gotten from them. But they had instituted a system worse than the other areas by forcing the Japanese people into the ruins of their cities. And then, they had the gall to offer him nobility, of course the official reason was to recognize what the Kururugi's were, but unsaid was the real reason why.
So he had grown up, jaded and cynical, hating himself and everyone around him. Simply because they could not understand how pointless fighting was. And how he had been drawn into fighting himself.
"Yo, Suzaku," Naoto raised a hand in greeting, drawing Suzaku from his thoughts, the redhead seated on one of the chairs, sipping tea from ornate china.
"Naoto," Suzaku greeted, taking a seat across from the man who had become a friend in recent years.
It honestly seemed like yesterday when he had met Naoto at a social function, the redhead approaching him when everyone had given him a wide berth and striking up a conversation with him. It had been a simple act that had bloomed into a relationship to where Suzaku was now a silent partner in arming Naoto's operation, in addition to his work with the Kyoto Group.
"Sorry I'm bothering you," Naoto spoke after taking another sip of tea and setting the china down, "but I needed to talk to you."
"I'm sorry Naoto, but I can't-"
Naoto waved his hand, dismissing his apology, "No, I understand Suzaku, you did quite a lot already. I always had a feeling that something would happen. I'm just grateful Kallen is still with us. I don't know what I would do if something happened to her."
Suzaku nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself on the matter. Specifically his ongoing crush for the red-headed devicer who was everything he wish he could be. It had been for her that he had provided her with one of the first MVS swords that the JLF had been able to manufacture after acquiring the blueprints for the technology. It had been for her that he had been such a staunch supporter of Naoto's cell. From the first time he had laid his eyes on her, he knew that they were destined to be together.
"I'll see what I can do in a month or so Naoto. I'm not going to abandon you guys, and I don't want you to have to depend upon others. We're all in this together."
"Thank you, Suzaku. However, the reason I'm here is for something other than the cell."
Raising an eyebrow, he leaned back in his chair, making a motion to continue.
Naoto reached into his briefcase, retrieving a tablet from it, "I wouldn't be bothering you about this Suzaku, because even now it seems freaky. But I've gone to three different specialists before I came to you, but...well...you know how Kallen has always had that strange sixth sense?"
"Of course."
"Okay, let me preface all of this with the undisputed facts here. We were losing, and losing bad. They had us completely cut off and were moving in to finish us."
"Go on," Suzaku urged, as Naoto took a deep breath.
"I don't know really how to explain it, Suzaku. One moment, we're on the verge of being wiped out; the next, I can't even put it into words, but, I dunno, suddenly I felt like I knew everything. I knew exactly what to do, how to word it, and the thing is, I was fucking terrified...and then I wasn't. I just...the strangest thing."
Naoto stared off for a few seconds, before shaking his head.
"Anyways, whatever it was, it turned the entire battle. And then, somehow, Kallen was drawn to it, at least, that's what she claimed. She could feel where whatever it was was coming from and set off to check it out. And then, well…," he activated the tablet and placed it down on the table, pushing it across to Suzaku, who picked it up to find himself looking at a figure completely clad in black.
"Okay?"
"Just watch."
And he activated the play button, listening to Kallen demand who the figure was, before they disappeared into a black blur, taking off away from the Gekka.
Suzaku straightened in the chair, eyes widening, looking to Naoto, who merely motioned to the tablet again as it rewound, and then played again, this time at a slower speed, this time allowing him to see the figure actually run.
"The gun camera clocked him in excess a hundred twenty kilometers per hour," Naoto stated, his tone terse, "I had three different experts analyse the damn data and they say it isn't fake. That whatever that thing is, is fucking real."
"That's," Suzaku flopped bonelessly in his chair, still trying to process what he had just seen, "Kami-sama."
"God, is about right," Naoto agreed, "I don't know who this guy is, or where he came from, but Kallen says whatever that effect was, it came from this guy. I have half a mind to thank him, and half a mind to keep the hell away. Do you know if Kyoto…"
"No," Suzaku shook his head, "if they were sitting on something like this, you damn well know they wouldn't shut up about it."
Naoto nodded in agreement, still showing how tense he was, "I talked to some of my underground contacts, told them to keep an eye out for a guy like this. Do you think he's something the Brits cooked up?"
"And turned against them," Suzaku retorted incredulously before shaking his head, "if it were we'd be seeing OSI or some other black group roaming about," Suzaku paused, his brow furrowing, "though I guess you could chalk this up as strange, but Calares has been screaming to anyone of importance in Pendragon that what happened in Shinjuku wasn't his fault, the thing is, no one in Pendragon seems to be talking back."
"That is rather peculiar," Naoto agreed, "Pendragon is usually pretty damn quick to punish failure. Usually even before the fires have gone out. I think I'll ask around a bit, see if anyone knows why Pendragon is so quiet."
"And Kallen," Suzaku asked.
"I sent her back to school. My sister actually wants to hunt this guy down," Naoto laughed, "only way I want to bump into whatever this is is with any army and then something. Something rubs me the wrong way about all this."
"Probably a good idea then," the head of the Kururugi family agreed, grateful Naoto was keeping her safe.
"Though it'd be just her luck if she runs into the guy there."
Grimacing, he shook his head, "Don't even joke about that."
RotF
It has to be him, Kallen thought to herself as she watched Julius Kingsley as he ate lunch, chatting amicably with a few girls who had surroundes him, asking questions about him. It was obvious that not even a day in that the teenager had developed a fan club.
It couldn't be a coincidence. For one, no one transferred in during the middle of the school year, especially in the most prestigious academy in Area 11. Second, she tended to know who was who in Area 11 as it was a requirement nobility, and she sure as hell had never heard of any Kingsley family, especially one with the kinda pull it would take to actually effect the transfer.
But all that went without even adding in her senses were screaming at her in both recognition, but also danger. Like she was in the midst of an apex predator that knew perfectly well what he was.
"Kallen. Hey, Kallen!"
A hand landed on her arm ripping her from brooding, nearly causing her to snap at her friend, Sophia Wood.
"Relax," the girl held up her hand, "If you keep staring at him like that he may get the wrong idea."
"What," Kallen spluttered, "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, so you weren't eyeing him like a lion would eye a steak," she then giggled at Kallen's horrified expression, "oh, don't get me wrong, he looks absolutely delicious. I may just have to lapse a bit to have a piece of that. Just imagine that hair untied as he hovers over you, piercing you with those eyes, murmuring sweet words to you, as he introduces you to a world of pleasure you could never have possibly fathomed before, and the only thing on your lips is his name spoken like a mantra."
The purplette sighed, looking dreamy, even as Kallen blushed slightly at the imagery her friend was creating, "A girl would be the luckiest in the world with a man like that."
"Sophia," Kallen muttered weakly, her eyes darting to Julius for a second, before coming back to her.
"Oh ho, so you have been thinking of him like that," Sophia chortled, before taking a bite from chef's salad, "probably want to see if the drapes match the carpet."
"Sophia," Kallen squeaked, scandalized by what her friend was suggesting, and completely forgetting why she had been watching Julius Kingsley in the first place.
"Well, guess you're in luck," Sophia sing-songed, "he's coming over here," she then leaned in close to Kallen, "I bet he uses shampoo down there too."
"Sophia," Kallen's facial coloring now matching her hair, as she turned to meet the Julius, her eyes darting down there for a moment, to her horror, before they quickly shot back up to him when he came to a stop in front of her.
"Lady Stadtfeld, Lady Wood," he greeted.
"Mister Kingsley," Sophia greeted, as Kallen kept her eyes firmly on him.
"My apologies, Lady Wood, but would you spare Lady Stadtfeld for a bit. I couldn't help but notice that the Lady may have some burdensome questions she may want to get off her chest," he stated apologetically, his left flexing and relaxing in a split second, though if one had paid close attention they would have noticed a minute roll of the wrist. Kallen blinked, wondering what it was that was causing her senses to warn her to be wary.
What Kallen did not notice though was Sophia's eyes glazing over for a second before she blinked, a smirk appearing on her face, "Sure, Mister Kingsley," she then leaned towards Kallen's ear, "Go get 'em, girl."
And with that, the two were left alone,with the rest of the cafeteria trying not to surreptitiously watch the two for various reasons, though they were failing miserably in that.
"Would you accompany me, m'lady?"
Scanning his expression for a few moments, she nodded, getting to her feet, then following him as he led her out of the cafeteria.
It took them a few minutes, but they eventually found themselves on the roof overlooking the academy grounds. Again, Kallen senses came alert, not knowing that the door behind them had become locked once it had closed.
Walking to the railing, Julius leaned against it, arms crossing, though his posture remained relax.
"So, feel free to ask what troubles your heart," he joked.
"Were you the one at Shinjuku," Kallen demanded, resisting the urge to march straight up to him and add her physical presence to the mix. She had a feeling if she did, it would end poorly. Still, that didn't stop her from fingering her purse knife.
"What is your gut telling you?"
Kallen blinked, momentarily taken aback by the answer as it was not the one she had expected. In fact, she had expected him to deny it categorically.
"Strange, isn't it?" he mused, looking out across the school. "Were you any other girl at this academy-well, almost any other girl-you'd be thrilled to be up here alone with me. I'm young, attractive, and charming - and if I go to Saint Ricardo, I'm certainly not poor either. But I worry you.
"It's not fear, no - I don't scare you. But you can feel it under your skin, can't you? You don't strike me as a hesitant person, but you're watching where I move, how I move, like I'm a wild animal you don't want to startle. It's the instinct that's never led you astray; the prickling in your bones that tells you go left, or this man is dangerous.
"You've relied on it your entire life. Never questioned it. Never wondered why you're just that little bit luckier than everyone else you've ever met. Maybe you don't even think it's luck - maybe you're just better at those split-second decisions that so many other people can't make.
"Whatever it is, right now it's telling you that pulling that knife on me would be a mistake. It has been since the moment we met."
He turned to her, and smiled.
It was not a very nice smile.
"Like I said - strange, isn't it?"
"What are you," a pale Kallen found herself asking before it had even become a thought, her hand gripping the purse-knife now like it was a lifeline.
The smile softened, a look of understanding replacing that which
"That, Lady Stadtfeld, is the right question to ask. But the answer is much more complicated than you can possibly imagine at this moment."
He then strode towards her coming to a stop just inside her reach, but without changing his posture, maintaining a relaxed state that exudes supreme confidence.
"So tell me," he whispered, though to Kallen it seemed to resonate to her very soul, "what do you want?"
RotF
He really hated the sand.
That one thought dominated the mind of the child as he strode through the palace on his way to his destination. It wasn't very often that he wandered here, but in the case of this situation, he needed to see to it personally.
So it had been with the blessing of her brother that he had boarded on a 'black' transport and flown non-stop to the recently acquired Area 18. The former Middle East Federation had been planned to be conquered over two years ago, but delays had taken place as it had been decided that this would be the debut of Britannia's newest weapons.
Not Knightmares, though the 7th Generation Frames leaving the production line were bleeding-edge, no, it was an entirely new facet to warfare, one that proved the superiority of the Britannian people.
It was both the most public, yet best kept-secret of the Empire.
The door was opened before him by the guards stationed outside the room, and he was led inside to an ornate and extravagant study and bedroom. His eyes immediately went to to the desk where a woman with raven hair sat, leaning back in her seat, her cheeks flushed and eyes firmly locked on the bed. Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald also stood beside her, though it was obvious he wished to be anywhere but here.
Following her eyes, he found a pair of white-clad legs wildly thrashing over the edge of a bed, yet he could not see their owner past the curtain of brunette hair that covered everything, though from time to time he could see the thrashing of arms as whoever it was past that struggled, soft choking noises filling the air.
It was all he needed to see to know what was taking place, as those limbs gradually weakened their struggle, and then fell still a soft rattle filling the air, joined by a moan from the petite figure, as V.V. fought to hide a frown, knowing what had just taken place.
"Nunnally," Marianne vi Britannia spoke, her voice breathy, arousal readily evident in her tone, "we have a guest."
The brunette's head tilted up for a second, before its owner slowly crept off the body, revealing the vacant glazed over eyes of C.C. staring up to nothingness, as Nunnally vi Britannia's feet softly padded to the ground, her hair enveloping her nudity. The young woman was a spitting image of her mother at that age, the blossom of motherhood blooming into a woman who would easily ensnare any man that she ever
"Uncle Vincent," Nunnally greeted, making a move towards him before realizing her nudity and deciding better. She then strode over behind a room divider and began to get dressed, as C.C. suddenly gasped, her eyes losing their glaze as she filled her lungs that had been deprived of air previously as life returned to her. The limette slowly rose up, looking around for a few moments as the bruises around her neck began to fade. Realizing what was expected of her, she then walked over and retrieved fresh clothes for Nunnally, saying nothing, even as her golden eyes met V.V.'s for a second, before going back to what she was expected to do.
For a moment, V.V. felt a surge of pity for his fellow immortal, knowing just how the world had gone to hell for her after Lelouch's kidnapping. She had stayed by Marianne's side the entire time, even as the woman had descended into darkness, from both loss of Lelouch and Charles' urging as he realized just what Marianne may be able to do. She had stayed by her side in spite of all the horrors that had been inflicted upon her, to where now, she just silently took it, broken and a submissive, a toy for the depredations of the two women before him.
He almost felt bad for Dash Lamperouge….almost.
"So," Marianne drawled, fixing herself up in her seat, and "what brings you to the Middle East, Vincent. It must be pretty huge for you to leave the Directorate for anything, nowadays," her eyes narrowed, eyes lighting up in a soft glow eking out through narrowed eyes, "considering your job."
He grimaced. Lelouch's kidnapping nearly sixteen years ago had changed the entire power structure in the Empire. Where Marianne had been simply a consort to the Emperor previously, it had only taken the very brutal and public killings of three of her fellow consorts that had firmly established that Marianne was the Empress, and no argument would be tolerated. Charles had likewise changed, developing a hard and unforgiving edge, as many had quickly found out.
The entire course of the Empire had changed with a single kidnapping. If Vincent had been told that two decades ago, he would have laughed. But now...now he actually worried, not just about the now indefinitely delayed Ragnarok Connection, but also the endgame. Would the world be a better place if they carried it out now?
He was slowly coming to the conclusion that it may just not be.
"I've spent the last two days trying to confirm the reports," he finally declared, taking a seat across from Marianne, "unfortunately, I have not been unable to confirm this report through empirical evidence, it is the first such occurrence in nearly sixteen years that we cannot reasonably explain or assign a conclusion to."
Marianne's breath hitched, expression something that he honestly had not seen in years, that of the the old Marianne that had been happy to be a mother, and provided him with just a modicum of hope against the insanity he had helped create as a weapon against the very person they were now talking about.
"Where," Marianne whispered.
"The occurrence took place in Shinjuku. Viceroy Calares stated that both he and his soldiers were suddenly unable to coordinate their attacks and were stricken by the sudden urge to flee."
Marianne snorted, "Figures the old man would hide amongst those savages. If he wasn't white, he'd have easily passed for one of those backwards Elevens."
He then reached into his pocket and retrieved an envelope and tossed it on her desk, "Then there is also this. It's grainy, but it was taken from one of the cameras on the edge of the ghetto. Only caught a glimpse, but…"
Marianne proceeded to open the envelope and dumped out a set of photos, taking one into hand and looking at a grainy photo taken from a distance of a man dressed completely in a black robe. The Empress stared at it for a few moments, before placing it down, standing up, and walking over to the window to look out, Nunnally finally coming out from behind the screen dressed in casual attire, as she walked over to take a look at the pictures.
"Mom," Nunnally asked, looking at her mother whose back was to them, "is it?"
It was unsaid as to what the question was, and Marianne stood there for what seemed like an eternity, simply staring out onto the palace grounds.
"Your Highness," Jeremiah asked quietly, fighting to keep the hope out of his voice.
And then the air changed, the smell of burnt ozone dominating the air, even as Marianne vi Britannia, the most powerful woman in the Britannian Empire stood there. Then, as suddenly as it had began, the smell disappeared, but there remained a tension in the air that Vincent found himself resisting the urge to struggle to breathe.
"I think it's time to visit Grandpa, Nunnally," Marianne finally growled, turning to meet the gaze of C.C., her eyes blazing the sigil of Geass, the sigil enveloped in sulfuric yellow, and Vincent had to fight to keep himself from flinching. Even now, after helping to cultivate this state of being in Marianne, he could not stop the visceral reaction of fear when staring into such an alien sight.
"Is big brother going to be there," Nunnally asked, her smile not what you would expect of a dutiful sister. No, it was more like a predator contemplating possible prey, with a heavy dose of something Vincent really did NOT want to consider in the least.
"Oh, I have no doubt he will keep dear Lulu close."
As if a lightswitch had been flipped, Nunnally's eyes also light up with Geass, eyes darkening to the same sulfuric yellow of her matriarch, even as her expression morphed into something that only be considered as lascivious.
"Ohhh," she whimpered, her eyes lustful "If he's anything like grandpa, I can't wait to meet him."
Remember, VV, CC, and Charles do not have any guide to recreating what they have footage of when Revan marched through Order defenses. So, they had to reverse-engineer from scratch, so what you see here is going to be closer to the Dathomiri Nightsisters instead of the actual Sith, heavily dependent upon what can be ritualized and gathered up from relics, and texts, and whatnot. So expect rather ersatz means of acquiring power, in this case, the scene you saw with Nunnally, CC, and Marianne had reason, for mother and daughter. I'll be going into more detail in the next chapter or so what things they had discovered. But, to be honest, the techniques and rituals will be pretty damn dark. Both in purpose and intent.
