Years still pass for us, Lelouch. Nunnally's stepped down and her daughter now leads the way. Marianne is a bright young woman, taking careful note of her mother's reign and trying her best to keep to that same ideal. I still protect them both, though Marcus, Nunnally's husband, is a capable man. It sounds like a monarchy, but actually people voted for Marianne to take her mother's place. Isn't it wonderful…? Everyone has a say, now. A legitimate voice. A heard voice.
Everything feels slower, now, but I suppose that's to be expected; it's been twenty-eight years since Zero Requiem. As Zero, I will continue to protect them. Fortunately, there has been no fighting, so there hasn't been the same strain there once was. I am still capable, though. Forty-six isn't so old that I can't manage anything anymore. I am remaining a symbol at the very least for these people, a reminder of everything that started thirty years ago.
---
The man leaned against the pedestal his former emperor perched upon, frozen in time. Zero was no longer the young man he had once been. The war from so long ago still rested within his features, more prominent now than had been when he was younger, lending harshness to his features. The lines around his mouth and eyes spoke when he would not. Volumes went unvoiced.
For now, in this quiet time, Zero remained in this sanctuary. He could almost imagine the youthful arms around his shoulders and the cheek against his own. Though the dreams had stopped, he remembered how everything felt in those lucid moments. Zero raised a gloved hand as if to set it over one smaller than his own he imagined to be resting against his chest. How much longer…? But he would live. He would persist and keep to his duty as Zero and protect. Death only entered his mind those scant few days he entered this veritable shrine. He kept Lelouch in his heart, but he would not subject himself to such heartbreaking encounters. Today was different, however, as no such dreams chased him, despite that strange phantom sensation about his shoulders and against his cheek.
---
At sixty-two years old, all these things have become so strange to me. I am fit for my age, but… it seems that the people no longer have need for Zero. I find it relieving, Lelouch. They are carving their paths without someone to remind them of the horrors of the past. Apparently it's being taught in schools so that students know why their lives are as they are, now.
I've heard from Nunnally; she's due for another grand child, it seems. This will be Marianne's fourth child. It makes me wonder… Did Rivalz ever manage to ask Milly out or anything? Ah, I wouldn't know. I haven't heard from them in so long… Not since before Zero Requiem, in fact. Forty-four years, Lelouch… Forty-four years.
The current government has had their head on straight for those forty-four years… I think things can continue like this…
---
He felt so tired as he sat beside the pedestal, now; winter did that to a person. Greying hair settled about his temples and a small smile remained on the man's lips. Zero patted the statue's knee affectionately and shifted for comfort. There was an emptiness in the air that Zero ignored; it had begun to feel empty long before now. There was the faintest trace of warmth where Lelouch's marble figure sat, as if the fading warmth of life rested there. Zero stared at the smooth walls of this miniature shrine. With age came the ponderings of life--mostly how much longer you had. He was sixty-five, now, and it was starting to get to him. Only three years ago, he'd been fine. Ah, but age sneaks up on you, doesn't it?
Zero turned to face the statue and carefully drew himself up to lean against it. He held the cold figure for a moment as if it would reach the spirit of the man it embodied. Could it reach Lelouch?, he wondered. He didn't suppose it mattered in the end. The dead were gone, after all. But perhaps something awaited the spirit beyond the termination of existence.
Gently, young arms wrapped tightly around Zero's--no, Suzaku's middle, supportive, and a chin settled against his shoulder. It was all so much more vivid a feeling than even the first time he'd encountered it. Suzaku smiled as the taller figure murmured to him, the pair moving to seat themselves on the floor.
…And time stopped.
---
Toward the end of the year in a.t.b. 2065, a private funeral for a former Knightframe pilot and later bearer of the name "Zero" is held.