CROWN OF THORNS
A CODE GEASS FANFICTION
BY
GRIMOIREOFSOUL
AND
THE DEMON PROSECUTOR
ACT 1: Absolute Obedience
Glass and rubble littered the scene of the crash, and I made sure to tread carefully to avoid producing a sound. Eventually, I found myself next to the driver, who was slumped over the wheel with blood leaking from his forehead. What a pathetic sight. After taking an extra moment to smile and admire the sight, I turned and cautiously stepped to the back of the ruined truck. The back of the vehicle was mostly intact, except for the doors, which had been blown apart by the force of the crash. Before I could enter, however, the sound of several rapid footsteps made me turn on my heel. I wasn't quick enough to escape the powerful kick which forced me to my back, unfortunately. "Stay down, terrorist" my assailant spat at me. How I loathe being in a submissive position. It reminded me of my father and how he trampled everything I held dearly, all with either an uncaring glance or a smirk of satisfaction. Britannia was a country which liked forcing people into a submissive position, and I suppose it is only natural their soldiers were like that as well. Without saying a word, I returned a kick of my own from the ground, which pushed the man several steps back, and got back to my feet, all in one motion. Before the soldier could respond, however, I quickly produced a pistol. It was a courtesy of my ever-growing paranoia. An exiled prince such as myself could not hope to be safe at all times of the day. After all, I had opposed the Emperor once.
"Put your hands up and back away," I said coldly. The soldier growled, but hesitantly complied. I noted with amusement that he did not have a weapon of his own. I could hardly restrain myself from snorting. It was just like Britannia not to arm its soldiers properly.
"Damned Britannian soldiers," I sneered "The mutts of a corrupt nation."
"Why… why are you doing this? You preach peace, yet you do nothing but endanger more lives!," the soldier exclaimed from behind his helmet.
This was going to go nowhere. He was just another Britannian boy who would meander through his hopefully short life, believing all of the lies he was fed. Ha, if only I had tools like him. One's naiveté had always been my favorite thing to manipulate.
"Oh, and you would lecture me on peace? Britannia, the country which killed millions, Britannia, the country which stripped the names and rights of those it left alive, Britannia, the country which would take everything from everyone would lecture me on peace? Let me show you Britannian diplomacy then," I growled as I cocked the pistol. This one was a persistent little one, I admit. If I only could brainwash people like Britannia did and turn them into my little lapdogs. Oh the possibilities… I shook my head at the thought.
Back to the matter at hand, this isn't quite how I imagined my first murder. I knew my victim would be Britannian, but never an unarmed soldier who could only attack me with his words. It was not a challenge at all, to my eternal displeasure. Oh well… I sighed, there'd be plenty of other challenges, I'm sure of that.
"Lelouch?," said the soldier suddenly.
Embarrassingly, I lost my usually indomitable composure and my hand quivered slightly. It would seem even seven years of practice at controlling emotion meant nothing in a situation like this. "How do you know that name?," I asked the soldier slowly, suspicious. There were a lot of Lelouches in the Empire, as commoners tend to name their children after the Royals in the hope of gaining favor.
"How could I not remember that name?" the soldier replied warmly. He then removed his helmet. If I had lost my composure a moment ago, I now lost my sanity.
"Su-Suzaku?!," my mouth spewed, finally losing all control. It was a shame how a familiar face could break the mask of expertly schooled indifference.
"I thought you died!," he exclaimed, sinking to his knees.
"I could say the same to you. Of course, I'm overjoyed to see you alive, but why the hell are you in that uniform?," I said, not even bothering to mask my contempt. I knew Suzaku was foolish, but not to this extent. This was just embarrassing. How someone like him could've survived for so long was truly beyond even me.
"Oh… I err… thought it was the right thing to do," he nervously muttered "Why are you here? The Lelouch I remember would never side with those 'freedom fighters.'"
Suzaku was cut from a stubborn, naïve cloth, so I decided to drop the soldier thing for the time being. I can't quite say I'm surprised, since he isn't exactly the sharpest katana in the dojo. Only Suzaku would think joining the Army which had slaughtered your people, stolen your lands, destroyed your trade and enslaved it would be a good thing. He was always one of the most stubbornly stupid people.
The large canister in the back of the truck, which I hadn't noticed until now, began to stir. The top of the container spun, and split apart, throwing a large cloud of smoke into the air which obscured our vision. "What's this truck supposed to be carrying?!," I exclaimed through fits of coughing. Suzaku's eyes widened to the size of cantaloupes. "Poisonous gas!" he yelled as he sprinted out of the truck. Of fucking course. I wasted no time in running after my old friend, and away from the truck. There was no way I run as far or as fast Suzaku, who may as well compete in the next Olympics. Oddly enough, I felt oddly drawn to the wreckage, despite the poisonous gas, which, I only just realized, should have killed me by then. "Suzaku! I don't think this is gas!," I yelled after him, who had already cleared the building. I stared into the smoke, but didn't dare to step any closer out of caution. The gun was warm in my hand, and I had already resolved to fill whatever stepped out of the smoke with several new holes.
My resolution was tested almost immediately, as the silhouette of a woman appeared in the smoke. My gun was pointed at the figure, and I needed only a moment to confirm who or whatever it was. "Are you going to shoot me?," the woman before me said coolly. I remained silent, not daring to lower my guard. "Go on, shoot," she said. What is this woman? No doubt, this green-haired woman is ominous at the very least. To show such a level of control over her emotions and a situation in which a gun is pointed at her unnerves me. Simultaneously, I find her fascinating. No, fascination isn't right. I feel oddly drawn to her, as if something about her were calling out to my very being. "If you're not going to shoot me, then lower your gun," the woman said blankly. I lowered my gun as requested, as it was clear that she posed no threat to me.
"Now that you've come to your senses, shall we become acquainted with one another?," she said in a monotone, yet enchanting voice.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to seem less intrigued by her than I actually was. It was always beneficial to make your enemy believe you were less of a threat, and the woman was not an exception.
"Inquire before you give information hmm?," she chuckled, much to my ire "My name is C.C."
What does she think she's playing at? It would seem I'd underestimated her before. The woman clearly recognized what I was playing at.
"What a charming name" I remarked sarcastically, barely restraining myself from rolling my eyes.
"Ahh, so he has a personality. No, C.C. is not my name, but that is what you will know me as," she said back, smirking.
A woman with secrets, hmm? Fine, so long as she played by my rules. I'm sure I'll learn her name some other time. While I hated people with secrets, I could not say I blamed her for not wanting to reveal them to me. I knew very well how dangerous secrets can be, and decided not to pry, at least until a more appropriate opportunity arises.
By then, Suzaku in all his sweaty glory had returned, panting.
"You were in that canister?," I asked as I finally holstered my firearm.
"Where else could I have come from?," C.C. said as she strode over to us.
Just what is it about this woman that entices me so? I did not know the answer to that, but the woman seemed very aware of my reaction to her presence.
"Umm…," Suzaku started, unable to find the words.
The glare that woman gave Suzaku was enough to make even steel shiver.
Before Suzaku could ponder why C.C. had shot him a death glare, the thundering sound of a dozen footsteps shattered any previous notion we had of safety and seclusion. We whipped around to face the entrance, to be greeted by a squad of Britannian soldiers. "Kururugi, report," the supposed captain of the squad said, glaring at Suzaku. Suzaku, springing to life, jogged forward several steps and saluted his officer. "I located a civilian, and secured the disabled target vehicle, captain!," he shouted.
"And I suppose those two are the civilians?" the captain asked, pointing two condescending fingers at C.C. and I.
"Well… err…," Suzaku started "The boy is a civilian, the woman was part of the contents of the container, I believe."
The officer glared at the two for a moment, and then briefly at me. "This truck was carrying a shipment of poisonous gas, or so I've been told" he said "You're not lying to me are you, eleven?"
Suzaku's eyes lit up at the sound of that slur which he hated so, and he clenched his fists so hard, his palms began to turn purple. "No sir, of course not."
"Then where did these two, especially the girl, come from?" The officer asked again, clearly agitated. I'd not be surprised if he hit Suzaku as well. He certainly looked that much of a brute.
Suzaku had yet to change his story. "As I said, sir, the boy was-,"
"Save your breath boy, this one must be too imbecilic to understand even the most basic of situations," C.C. cut in seemingly out of nowhere, armed with a smirk that could ignite water.
I stared at her in shock. What the hell could she be thinking? Perhaps her internment in that capsule has warped her mind. I can understand being snarky with a single adolescent with a gun pointed at you, but only madness could propel someone to be snide to a squad of Britannian soldiers. C.C. will be the death of me.
"Wh-What did you say?!," the captain exclaimed, his emotions flared by the insult. His losing control over the situation caused those under his command to shift nervously. His gun was drawn now, and its barrel was pointed directly at C.C.'s forehead. The woman did not look even slightly worried, looking like it was a bagel pointed at her, not a weapon.
"Seems that this one has some nerve," he laughed, though I could hear the anxiety in his tone. Did he think that I could be so easily unnerved? Britannian brutes never ceased to amaze me with their stupidity.
An attempt to seem in control would always be a vain one in my presence.
"Shoot me then," C.C. said in her usual monotone, uncaring voice, like discussing the weather.
The captain scowled at her remark, and instead, turned the barrel from her head to her thigh, where the bullet found its mark. I couldn't help but wince slightly as the blood poured out of her leg just behind me. C.C. tumbled to her knee, clasping the wound, but did not cry out at the pain. It made me wonder how much experience she had in the field.
"Sir! I cannot allow-," Suzaku started before his leg was struck by a bullet as well.
"Kill the boy. If what the eleven says is true, we should bring her back. Speaking of which, put Kururugi out of his misery while you're out of it" the officer said in an authoritative tone.
The soldiers raised their rifles in unison, no doubt as they had been taught to in their training. As I stared death in the eye, nothing was louder in my mind than the screams of my mother and sister as I had heard years ago. Who'd tell my mother and I would die the same death, executed by a firing squad, defenseless and cornered. I suppose it is only fitting. Still, something in my mind shouted at me for giving up so soon, and forced me to release one last, desperate shout, voicing all my hope for a miracle.
"I refuse to die like this!" I finally shouted, the words in his mind spilling into my mouth.
"You don't have to," C.C.'s voice rang in my ears like a drum.
The world had gone eerily silent. Nothing moved. Suzaku was still on the floor, bleeding, the squad of soldiers were still in their positions, and I had yet to be killed. The only thing which seemed to had moved at all was C.C., who was now between me and my assailants.
"I can sense a desire for power within you," she said soothingly, taking careful steps my way, her would all but forgotten. What caught my attention, however, was the fact that the wound was not to be found, revealing only the soft flesh of her upper thigh.
"What is…" I started, confused at both how she could seemingly stop time at will, and the missing wound. Such power was beyond human, and interested me.
I had no words which could possibly describe what graced my eyes and ears adequately. A swirling mass of colors bathed the world in a light brighter than the sun. The colors produced a sound more euphonic than any orchestra imaginable, and a subtle warmth seemed to be emanating from C.C. The beauty of it all couldn't be of this plane of existence, which lends to the woman's otherworldly quality.
"Geass, The Power of Kings, is within your grasp, all you need now is to reach out and take it for yourself," she intoned, as if she were a priest preaching from a gospel, and I the listener.
There was no air in whatever realm I now found myself in. Gravity had become a baseless theory, and I felt myself drifting off into what I imagined eternity would be like. Except for the swirling mass of colors and sounds, the world had gone blank, and all that remained were C.C. and I. Her forehead, which had been concealed by her bangs, bore a red, glowing symbol unlike anything I had ever seen.
"This power, however, has a stipulation which must be heeded if I am to grant it to you. You will enter a binding covenant with me, and must fulfill a single wish of mine. Not only will you be graced with Geass, but you will have me as well," C.C. continued.
My decision was made within a fraction of a second.
"I accept the conditions of the contract," I said almost involuntarily. Who was I to refuse? I had little thought for that wish of hers; whatever it might be, it was something I was ready to fulfill. It was not important to me what it was, as anything was nothing in exchange for such a power she offered me.
C.C. smiled, a smile so radiant even I was aware of its inhuman beauty. She touched my cheek lightly, and voiced her approval of my decision. "Excellent. I am sure you'll find me quite a valuable combatant." she praised, and suddenly, the world around us disappeared, only to be replaced by the dark, gloomy image of the warehouse.
I glared at the soldiers who dared disrupt me so, and believe themselves mightier than my person. Laughable! They were only commoners, worthless worms desperate for their masters' approval of their inhumane actions. It was, I admit, admirable how far they were willing to go, and it was something I had to give Britannia credit for. Such loyalty was something I wanted to wake in my own subordinates.
It would seem the sheer force of my glare made the cocky officer quiver, which his subordinates had noticed and seemed to not understand how a simple schoolboy could scare their superior so much.
I smiled. Let them wonder and look into my eyes. I was willing to show them just how different they were from me. Hesitantly, they looked right into my eyes, falling into my trap.
"Obey," I uttered the simple command, and enjoyed myself as the Officer's eyes turned into lifeless orbs. His subordinates were quick to drop onto their knees and proclaim me their master.
A crazed laugh bubbled from my lips at the sight. Really, even though I'd spent years perfecting my self control, this time even that could not stop me from finally losing my cool. After years of agonizing waiting, I'd finally perfected my skills of manipulation, and no one could resist me! I could probably use it on the bastard that is my father and claim his worthless Empire for myself. Oh, how fun would it be!
I smirked at my unwitting slaves and decided to test just how powerful and useful my power truly was. I looked one of them in the eye, the skinniest one and ordered him to lift the capsule C.C. had been in, but to my displeasure, it would seem even Geass could not make him strong enough to do so. It was a useful bit of info to have, I suppose.
The next one had to punch the other in the face whenever I said "Blackjack," to help me see whether I could use codes with them. It was a success. I rewarded the soldier by ordering him to put himself out of his misery. It was another test of sorts, to see if it was really absolute as to make him take his own life.
The new blood stains on the floor confirmed my theory, as did the hole in the man's skull. For the officer, I asked whether he had any experience giving first aid, and at his negative answer, I gave him my own first aid notebook and ordered him to read as much as he could in five minutes and then help Suzaku, who, I guess, had passed out from the pain.
It would seem Geass could help my slaves, but not significantly. Every new piece of information, I wrote in another notebook of mine, enjoying the silence.
"It would seem that you're already making yourself acquainted with your newfound power, my King," C.C. suddenly spoke in amusement and shook me from my reverie.
I did not have time to answer, as the wall in front of us suddenly exploded, and a huge machine of immense height filled my vision. It was a Sutherland, I recognized, one of the fifth generation knightmare frames.
ACT 2: The First Knight
"What's happened here, boy?," the pilot of the Sutherland demanded, "Why are these officers kneeling in front of you as if you're royalty?"
I immediately took notice of the change of tone as she spoke the word 'royalty'. I had a striking feeling my power would not be needed to remove this foolish woman from her seat. Her sort was something I saw every day, simpleminded rats born as commoners who wanted nothing but to become Nobility, and were selfish beyond belief. None of them actually had any loyalties; they respected and bowed to the powerful ones, expecting rewards for their service, but as soon as the powerful ones cease being powerful, so does their loyalty and they turn the other page and serve someone else until they are rewarded. Such is the life of a knight born from nothing.
"Look upon my face, and you tell me the answer," I mused.
The pilot of the Sutherland, obviously irritated, started walking the mech over to me and C.C.
"You'd do well to respect the symbol of Britannian crest, boy, if I weren't so kind, I might've taken it upon myself to discipline you," the woman said.
C.C.'s grin extended, as if I had told the joke of the century.
"You are a knight of Britannia are you not?," I asked her as condescendingly as possible.
"How can you tell? I don't have any identifying markings on my Sutherland," she said in a perplexed, yet amused tone.
Britannian nobles can be exceedingly dense at times.
"During my time in the palace, I'd met hundreds of people like you. Deplorable, really, how your drive to be one of the Round overshadows your loyalty," I laughed as I produced a broach from my pocket "As you can see, I have great respect for the Britannian crest."
The pilot broke her slow gait and swiftly ran through the warehouse, sending the soldiers under my power scurrying for safety. C.C., as expected, didn't flinch, even as the mass of metal nearly crushed her beneath its feet.
"Let me see that!," the woman screeched after climbing out of her Knightmare and snatching the broach from my hand. Oddly enough, she was dark-skinned and maintained silvery hair, wrapped in a ponytail. She certainly wasn't a full-blooded Britannian.
As the broach left my hand, the thing began turning colors the moment it touched the soldier's. It went from a purple background and with lion, the insignia of the standard Britannian Royal Crest, to a black background adorned with a red lion.
"I assume you know what this signifies," I said, referring to the change of color in the most condescending tone I could possibly muster. All of the members of the Royal Family carried broaches such as that one on their person. When it touches someone's skin other than a Royal's, the broach begins to change colors as it did now.
The woman gaped at me in shock for a moment before shaking her head and kneeling at my feet.
"Your Royal Highness...," she started breathlessly.
"My name is Lelouch vi Britannia, The Exiled Prince," I said "Knight of Britannia, what is your name?"
"Villetta Nu, your majesty," she said, head still bowed.
"You may rise, Lady Nu. I won't allow someone of your stature to lower themselves in order to please me," I said, smiling at her.
As Villetta rose, I could see the look of a wolf staring at her meal. Of course, she dared not look me in the eye.
"Thank you Your Royal Highness," she said softly.
"If I may ask, why do you serve your country?," I asked, tilting her head up so that I may look into her eyes.
"I wish only to serve my country, Your Royal Highness," Villetta said softly without so much as a bat of an eye.
Well done, woman. I could tell that that was well rehearsed.
"Kissing his feet with your blatant dishonesty won't do you any good I'm afraid," C.C. cut in with a spiteful chuckle.
"And who are you to address me in such a way you insolent-," Villetta started before a wave of my hand cut her off.
"You'll have to forgive my associate, she has a bit of an edge to her," I said as I turned my head to look at C.C. Oddly enough, her bullet wound from earlier seemed to have stopped bleeding.
"But what she says is true," I pointed out "Oh, and refer to me as Lelouch."
"Yes... Lelouch. Truth be told, my only aspiration is to become a Baroness so that my family would retain my noble status," she muttered.
Of course, she was only concerned with gaining more power and titles. My being a prince should be enticing enough to gain her as an ally.
"A commendable goal," I lied "But certainly it would be a challenge for a non-Britannian."
"I suppose so," she muttered in an almost inaudible voice. Seems that I've struck a nerve.
"But, with a prince's favor, even a non-Britannian could ascend to a Knight of The Round."
As I said that to her, Villetta's eyes widened, and the first inkling of a smile emerged on her lips, though she retracted it in less than a second, realizing her mistake. At that exact moment, I knew that I had found my marionette.
"How may I serve you, Lelouch?," she asked, bowing once more. Even without this newfound power, I can twist people. After all, I am my father's son.
"Give me your knightmare," I commanded.
Villetta jumped up and looked at me, shocked. "Huh?"
"Your knightmare. I need it for a moment." I repeated with a sigh.
"Err..." she gaped stupidly, clearly surprised at my order. She was probably expecting me to ask of her to protect me and escort me out of the ghetto.
"I can't help you become at the very least a Baroness unless you comply with a few tasks of mine, of course," I said with an innocent smile.
"Of course not sir," she said with an uneasy smile "Do you know how to pilot a Sutherland?"
"I'm a quick learner," I responded as I briskly moved past her.
Oh, I should probably dispose of these soldiers since I have no purpose for them.
"As for the rest of you, you have a battle to be fighting in the ghetto. Destroy all of those who would dare oppose Britannia!," I exclaimed. Those words put a sour taste in my mouth.
Rivalz and I had heard about the attack on the radio. Apparently, my brother Clovis had mobilized the military against them. Sending those soldiers to be killed by those terrorists is the best method of killing them without arousing Villetta's suspicion.
"What should I do, Lelouch?," Villetta asked me.
I considered her question for a moment. While her piloting skills, if she had any, judging from the fact that she was only a lowly knight, could certainly prove quite the useful toy in the upcoming fight, I still did not trust this despicable woman. I'd be quite a fool to do such thing, given her lack of loyalty of any kind and thirst for only a bit of power. I had no doubts she'd betray me if given the chance, and as such, I was more than reluctant to trust her with my life and wellbeing. I believe it'd be best if I kept her as away from Shinjuku as I dared and seemed not suspicious.
Thankfully, I had just the strategy for that scenario. I shook my head regretfully, and waved her away. "I do not want an ally of mine to risk her life in such a way, Lady Nu, especially if it is not necessary.
I barely resisted the smirk that threatened to appear on my lips when I noticed her attempt to protest at my words. A most charming act, really, but for such a masterful actor like myself it was almost unworthy of notice. It was a shame she believed she could manipulate me so.
I held up a hand to stop her and put an end to that awful act of hers and stop her from wasting my time any longer. "Lady Nu, my decision is final. You are much too valuable to lose in such a way, and I do not wish to take such a risk, no matter how small it might be. However, I assure you, you'll have your chance at fighting for me." I said soothingly, and could her C.C. snigger behind me, but Villetta was too euphoric at being 'praised' by a Prince of the Realm she either did not notice or mind.
It was pitifully obvious how little she truly wanted to fight, but Nu clearly believed herself to be the master puppeteer. Good, I thought, the best kind of pawn is the one who thinks he is in charge. She was lucky she was so amusing to me, how easy she was to manipulate and willingly dance at my behest.
If she hadn't been so interesting, I would've killed her the moment she tried to manipulate me so I could spare myself the bad act, but I was feeling generous today. Playing with her hopes and thinking of crushing her dreams almost made me salivate at the thought. I could only imagine the look on her face. It was almost better than playing with Shirley.
"Your Royal Highness, I thank you for this wonderful opportunity and promise you I will fight for you when given the chance." Villetta bowed deeply with practiced deftness, and I imagined she had practiced it in front of the mirror many times in order to please Clovis. The pitiful thing was the fool was likely to fall for it. Thankfully, I was not my fool of a brother.
Having said her piece, Villetta departed from the warehouse, leaving C.C. and me alone in the silence. "Oh you will Villetta, whether you want it or not. I shall make sure you become one of my favorite toys."
ACT 3: The First Taste of Blood
The first thing I noted about the Sutherland was that it was relatively easy to control, unlike my mother's old Knightmare, the Ganymede. I imagined that was the reason Britannia was so successful; by making the piloting easier, more pilots could use the Knightmares and help Britannia defeat its enemies, who were less fortunate and tech savvy, since Britannia had taken the most of the talented scientists.
The second thing was the map – I could see every part of the battlefield, including the terrorists' Glasgow. I decided using the terrorists was the best move I could use in this situation. While they were certainly untrained and untrustworthy, they were in a desperate need for help as well; I could use it to my advantage and make them mine.
After all, even a lowly terrorist could follow orders and that was all I needed of them. However, I had to cut them some slack, as the rebels were doing quite well with their outdated weapons. If anything, their cause was to be respected, as not many would willingly put their lives at risk just to save others.
That did not mean I wouldn't use them as any other meaningless meat shield. I considered it a test; if they could survive this battle, then I would contact them again. If not, there are a bunch of other groups as well, and with my Geass, even they could pass off as an army.
I smiled as I played with the broach in my hand. It was time for a bit of amusement.
With that in mind, I had contacted the terrorists and took over their little group. To my surprise, there weren't many of them, less than a dozen. A certain liability, but I'd played games with much worse odds. Not to mention Clovis was never a good chess player. The memory of those pitiful games made me smile.
There'd been some betting pools on our games if I remembered correctly. Odysseus had sworn to give up on his claim if Clovis won, Euphemia's mother had said she would swallow a gallon of vinegar and Jeremiah Gottwald, one of my mother's guards, gambled with his whole pay. The funny thing was, no one had even gambled against me, not even when I was only 5.
The rest of the battle was a slaughter.
My brother had lost over ninety percent of his troops, while on my side, I had to sacrifice one of the terrorist in order to defeat a Knightmare squad. A most regrettable slip up on my part, but the terrorist's scream made it worth all the trouble. It was strange how a dying man could be so graceful and yet honest in his fall, there truly was some beauty in tragedy that is death.
I was just preparing to order an attack on the mobile command center when a terrorist suddenly broke the radio silence. "This is P-4, reporting enemy reinforcements!"
I frowned. Now, this could be rather troublesome. While Clovis had the quantity and I the quality, it should be noted my terrorists were already tired from the relentless attacks and almost out of ammo and power. My only hope was that woman in the Glasgow, but I doubted she could go against more than a couple of enemies.
"How many of them are there?" I asked impatiently, already planning my next move.
The terrorist did not answer immediately and all I could hear was the sound of metal clashing, "O-only one!" the terrorist managed to tell me before his Knightmare exploded.
While it was to be blamed to the pilot's lack of skill, losing yet another piece to Clovis left a sour taste in my mouth, but it did give me some sufficient information. The Frame obviously had to either have a skilled pilot, or be an ace up Clovis' sleeve. Personally, I thought the latter was far more likely.
The image sent by Kallen only confirmed my theory. The frame was white, an unlikely color for a KMF, and looked nothing like a Sutherland, or even Gloucester. It seemed much more advanced, but I noticed the different hatch as well. I guessed the designer had sacrificed its ability to eject for agility, judging from the look of its lower parts. I could use it to my advantage.
I imagined Clovis was grinning in his KMF, sitting on his throne built on lies and already celebrating his victory with a cup of wine or two. I grinned at the thought of him spitting out his wine at seeing me in front of him with a gun no less.
I tapped the control panel idly, finally recognizing the situation for what it was. I sighed in regret. It would seem I'd need to lose even more pieces to Clovis. A regrettable decision that is, but necessary. I suspected the Frame was nothing short of the most advanced one in the world, if the fact that the pilot was using only slash harkens and still managed to best the terrorists, was of any indication, and that victory was only a sweet fantasy.
As I'd said before, while quality could be defeated with quantity, it should be noted the terrorist were already tired and unskilled, while both the enemy frame and pilot were way more advanced and appeared to have just joined the fight. I was afraid not even Q-1 could defeat the bastard in that old Glasgow of hers.
Well, better put those terrorist to some use. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I'd see the white frame if I were to continue with my war, and it was time to check for some of its weak points at the cost of some terrorist. Maybe I'd even get lucky and defeat the frame while I'm at it. That in mind, I turned on the radio.
"N-1, P-2, try to bait the white knightmare around the point G-9, and shoot at every part of it. All you need to worry about is making sure his attention is on you. While you're at it, try to force him to go around some buildings so N-3 can try to drop them on it. We'll see how he endures that. If even that fails, bring him to the point G-8, where N-2 and the others will be planting bombs while you're fighting it." I issued the orders quickly and sat back to enjoy the show.
The worst thing that could happen was that I'd lose a couple of terrorists, but at the same time gather valuable info on the KMF, and clear my way to Clovis. I would emerge victorious in any case, which could not be said for Clovis.
During the next couple of minutes, reports on the white knightmare kept pouring in. Apparently, the knightmare was bulletproof, was using only its slash harkens, and yet managing to defeat the superior weapons of the terrorists.
I was thinking about it, when a thought suddenly hit me. Why was I waiting for the terrorists to finish? I could take advantage of the confusion and get to Clovis without endangering myself. The terrorists were simply a form of cattle, and it was well known a wolf did not concern himself with the needs of cattle.
I could simply record their reports and use them when necessary.
I felt myself smirk at the thought of finally meeting my older brother in person after all these years. Certainly, our meeting was bound to be at least interesting.
Ignoring the terrorists' shouts, I turned my knightmare and departed from the scene.
ACT 4: Brotherly Love
Getting into the Command Center was so pathetically easy I imagined even my blind little sister could've done it the same way. I knew Clovis was a fool, but to leave himself this vulnerable was truly surprising even for him. Not that I was complaining, of course. It only served to make my plan move even more smoothly.
I contemplated whether I would play the same game as I did with Villetta with the soldier guarding the entrance but quickly dismissed the possibility. Villetta actually had some worth in her, and could be useful in the coming rebellion, while this person was likely useless as one can get, judging from his position. I'd get plenty of foot soldiers later on.
I could simply geass him into telling me about Clovis and his plans and then kill him.
I grinned. Perfect. He should be honored at having a purpose. I quickly hid the grin and replaced it with the perfect façade for this particular person. Alan Spencer was his name. Son of Duke Archibald Spencer and a compulsive gambler, spoiled to the bone and a coward. Unlike myself in every aspect, but that's what masks were for, of course. The best mask is the one that is the opposite of everything and makes the opponent so convinced he does not even consider it's a mask.
I schooled my features in a mix of fear and terror and started running towards the soldier, tripping in front of him on purpose. It was an awfully embarrassing move, but my act needed to be convincing.
"T-Thank God!" I made myself stutter, and locked my eyes with the soldier. "You're Britannian, right? You can help me get out of this mess! I'm Alan, son of Duke Spencer."
The soldier eyed me with some suspicion, but relaxed at the mention of the title. "How can I help you?"
I smirked, and the soldier's face twisted in alarm, and he was reaching for his gun, but it was too late. "For starters, you can obey."
The gun was dropped to the ground and the man saluted me quickly and at my order quickly told me Clovis' plans and the number of people inside. As there was no need to be subtle about anything, I ordered the soldier to come with me and shoot everyone in sight save for Clovis. It was not the most sophisticated of my plans, but it would serve. If anything, I could delete the camera feed later on.
I'd expected some resistance, soldiers patrolling in the corridor, but there was no one, and it was quiet as a graveyard. The only sounds came from the room Clovis was in. He was shouting at someone named Lloyd and cursing him for making him use the Lancelot, whatever that thing was. I would find out later anyway, so no use dwelling on that.
Ever the polite gentleman, I knocked gently on the surface of the golden door, and stunned silence enveloped the room. I had no doubts the generals in Clovis' room had guns on their person, so it would be a good opportunity to test the extent of the power of geass and whether it could help the soldier kill them all. In any case, I had my gun ready as well and pushed the door open.
It was over in a matter of seconds.
The geassed soldier had managed to kill them all, but at the cost of his own life. The thing that interested me was the fact that he did not stop shooting until they were dead, with as his own guts spilling on the floor, half his arm torn off, and one eye gorged out. It was pretty impressive in its own right and made me smile with strange glee.
The look on Clovis' face was priceless, and I was sure I would remember it for the duration of my life.
"Third Prince Clovis la Britannia of the Britannian Empire, son of Gabrielle la Britannia and Charles vi Britannia," the words slithered from my tongue. Clovis' shocked expression hadn't faded, and I could almost feel the fear emanating from him.
"Seventeenth in line to the Britannian Throne, former prince Lelouch vi Britannia, at your service Your Royal Highness," I continued. I greeted Clovis with a sarcastic bow once I was before him.
"L-Lelouch! How wonderful it is to see you're alive! I was certain that those animals out there had ripped you apart. What a joy! I'm sure father will be-," the terrified prince started before my raised hand cut him off.
What a pathetic excuse for royalty.
"Oh, I'm sure father will be ecstatic that his son which he threw to the dogs is alive!"
Clovis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I'm honestly glad to see you, brother."
Clovis never was much of an actor.
"Well, I have several questions for you, brother," I said, emphasizing the last word, if I could even call this wretch that.
"Anything for a prince of Britannia!"
I'd been waiting for this moment for ages.
"You remember my mother, yes? Marianne?" I asked.
"Of course, she was a true beauty, as I recall."
"Well, could you tell me exactly how she died?"
The worm's shifting grew more agitated. "She was assassinated, unfortunately. Though, she did manage to protect Nunna."
"Glad to see that your memory hasn't faded. Anywho, might you know who killed my mother and paralyzed Nunnally?" I said, only barely managing to contain my anger.
"I'm afraid not." Clovis said "I'd tell you if I did."
I hate lying assholes. My anger let itself out in the form of a gun being drawn, though my face kept its cool composure. "May I ask you again?"
"No! I really don't know, Lelouch!" Clovis screamed, putting his hands up in defense.
"I'm growing tired of this," I sighed as I used my Geass and Clovis grew eerily still "Answer my questions honestly."
Clovis nodded lifelessly at my command.
"Who killed my mother?" I snapped.
"I don't know."
"Do you know who may know?"
"Perhaps Schneizel el Britannia knows," the puppet said almost solemnly.
Fine.
Geass wore off moments after he finished his sentence, and he seemed to be in a daze. "I really don't know Lelouch!" he then screamed, putting his hands back up to cover his face.
"Oh, I believe you. In fact, you just told me everything I need to know," a smirk found its way upon my face.
Clovis' face twisted. "You know what, you disgust me. You and your entire line disgusts me. You rotten people, the vi Britannias have gotten what they deserved, especially your disgusting bitch of a mother!"
Has he lost his mind? Something within me snapped.
I smiled as I plunged the knife into my half-brother's neck. He put up less resistance than anyone should, as he flailed his arms about, not necessarily striking at anyone or anything. The crimson that spilled onto the knife and his clothes created a reflection of myself, and I smiled all the more. "What was that, brother? Did you say something?" I mused. Clovis couldn't respond properly, as blood poured from his mouth as opposed to words. I twisted the blade slowly, wanting to hear every crack of bone and vein. "What happened to that prized face of yours?" I laughed as Clovis' face was flushed of all color.
I finally pulled the knife from its fleshy sheathe. "If you'd only stayed quiet, I'd have just shot you, you know," I whispered in his ear "One painless bullet."
Clovis seemed only capable of croaking, which annoyed me. If only he could speak semi-clearly now, I wonder what he'd say? Still, the sight of a self-absorbed weasel such as he coated in his own blood made me cackle uncontrollably all the same.
I returned the knife to Clovis' flesh, this time, slashing and cutting at his body without any form or meter. His eyes widened with the pain, and I could only relish the moment. I pulled him down from his feet onto the ground, and continued to cut him to ribbons. The blood began to cover me as well by this point, but I didn't mind. There was a simple, inexplicable pleasure in being covered by the blood of another, especially the blood of a half-sibling.
By the time I was done, Clovis' body was almost unrecognizable, save his flowing mane and prissy face which he cherished so.
I glanced at my watch and was annoyed to find it almost black with dried blood. Clearly, my little fit lasted longer than I'd thought. Sighing, I grabbed Clovis' beloved violet scarf, which was fortunately relatively clean from the blood, and wiped away absentmindedly at the watch.
It did not matter what time it was. I'd still be able to find a perfect excuse. Nunnally and Sayoko would most likely trust me at face value, but if Milly or Shirley suspected, it was nothing a small smile sent their way could not fix.
I stood up with some difficulty and began inspecting the room. As it was his command center, Clovis was bound to have something useful in here. I began typing on the computer, but it soon requested a DNA sample from a man called Bartley Asprius. I raised my eyebrow. I could've sworn I'd seen the man before.
I looked around the room, and found the man lying face down, bullet holes marring his chest and face. I crouched down and drove my dagger into his hand, piercing the skin and bone and obtaining a single finger from the fallen General.
Wordlessly, I pressed it onto the console and downloaded all the info there was on my USB. There'd be plenty of time to look at it when I'm back in the confines of my own home.
Seeing no reason to remain in the MCC any longer, I headed out, completely forgetting about the sheer amount of blood on my person.
The sight that greeted me was unexpected. The emerald-haired woman was standing in front of me, eating a slice of pizza. She looked up when she heard the footsteps and greeted me with cheese still on the corner of her mouth. "Sorry for getting lost," she said, sarcasm clear in her tone.
I felt myself frown at the woman's antics. "You're saying you got lost, yet you're nonchalantly munching at a slice of pizza?"
She just stared at me.
"Whatever," I huffed, "Let's just get back to Ashford Academy. I have people there that are probably worried sick about me."
"You know," she drawled, "Maybe you should take a shower first and grab a change of clothes?"
I was about to retort when I looked down at my body. She was right. If anyone saw me like this, there'd be hell to pay. I was covered in blood and gore from head to toe, and probably smelled like death as well.
Still, I could not shake the self-satisfied smile off my lips. Clovis was my first victim, but nowhere near the last. Britannia did not know what it was in store for.
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