Rise of Avalon's moon

The world is sick by more ways than one. From black darkness of the world rises mysterious anti-hero: Black Warlock Prince. L/K/C/A

"Human language Speaking"

'Human language Thoughts'

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

2. Shinjuku massacre

"After few years of fighting and scheming amongst Nod, secret societies and fallen Germans nation of Neon Avalon was born. Along the way Lelouch gathered great amount of great people under his leadership and one of greatest was princess Kushana. Her father king Wu sold his small country in middle-east for Britannia and when he was betrayed he escaped and became high eunuch in Chinese Federation. Kushana swore to get her revenge and free her country. With her loyal soldiers she joined with Lelouch and helped to create Neon Avalon.

Neon Avalon was more like secret society than nation. Its cities are scattered across the world near ruins of lost civilizations while capital 'Class Isles' is in south pole built as extension of secret base for Germans who vanished after First World War. Nation gathered its citizens from people around the Gaia who wished new life or change of the world and there were some Britannians amongst them. One of most notables was John F. Harkmen. Mr. Harkmen was a commoner whom spent most of his life defending the rights of his fellow Britannians as a lawyer, only to fail repeatedly by the power and wealth wielded by the Nobility. Now seated in position of power, and with the help of his fellow councilors, Lelouch, Hakuoro and Harkmen created another democracy type government that would help spear their people into the future. It had no problems that EU has nor its lead by privileged group like in federation and nation spoke strongly about equality. Neon Avalon is lead by council whose members were chosen by people and it was lead by Hakuoro. Neon Avalon started helping groups opposing Britannia around Gaia.

Lelouch was proposed with seat of power as founder of Neon Avalon, but like Triton who went in Japan to create resistance group Lelouch went back in Japan to seek way to start his revolution. Thus he attended Ashford Academy with help of Ashfords supporting Neon Avalon when he was 16 and now is 17 and has been attending Ashford Academy for one whole year and lots of things have happened in that one year time span. With him came loyal Altria, Sayoko and Rolo. Rolo Hailburton was boy who lost his family in fire which also burned his face. He lost his will to live so Lelouch proposed he takes Rolo's life. He would give him bodical surgery so that Rolo would get Lelouch's face and voice so that Rolo would live rest of his life as Lelouch's douple sacrificing his face, life and everything else for Lelouch. Rolo accepted offer. Neon Avalon promised that when time is right they will answer for the call of their founder and support him through his difficult path."

-Story begins-

-Area 11 Tokyo Settlement blue-

"Not Area Eleven, this is Japan," Lelouch thought bitterly, shaking his head in disgust, overhearing some people discussing.

However, he just continued to walk onwards. People who sympathized with "Numbers" were not well liked and regarded as traitors by the masses, which angered Lelouch greatly. These people were not "Elevens"; they were Japanese and unfortunately for him, being Britannian himself had earned him hateful and scornful looks from the Japanese as he passed a few of them by over the years. That did not sit well with him, though he could not blame them for their hate-filled glares. The majority of Britannians did look down on the Japanese and treated them like dirt, so it wasn't surprising that they tarred all Britannians with the same brush. However, instead of directing his hatred back at the Japanese, he turned that hatred towards Britannia… or more specifically, his father and half-brother Maximus and each time a Japanese person sent him a glare, his hate for his family only grew.

Inside the Tokyo Settlement, seventeen-year-old Lelouch in the company of one of his friends and fellow student council member of Ashford Academy Rivalz Cardemonde were inside an elevator ascending to the higher floor of a tall tower-apartment-supermall complex with Rivalz wearing his motorbike helmet whistling a tune while the former prince stood vigil in the elevator waiting for it to come to a complete stop.

"So Lelouch I guess this is the major leagues for you now huh?"

"I guess so Rivalz, but I hear this Black King isn't exactly an honest player."

"I am not worried you can handle anyone." Chess was Lelouch's favourite game, he was so good in fact that the only one who ever managed to defeat him was his half-brothers, Schneizel and Maximillian.

"Heh heh now don't get overconfident on me buddy."

"It's not overconfidence or arrogance, but just self-confidence that you'll win regardless of what tricks he pulls."

"Well then I guess I don't have to worry then." Lelouch said as he stepped out of elevator.

It was a peaceful day in the Tokyo Settlement of what had once been Japan, which Britannia had renamed Area Eleven. The citizens of the settlement went about their daily lives, completely oblivious to most of the goings on around them; not that they expected anything out of the ordinary would happen. After all, terrorist attacks were pretty much the norm these days with the Japanese, who had been renamed Elevens unhappy about their oppression after Britannia had conquered their once proud nation seven years previously. The Britannians had then built their settlements and drove the Japanese out and into the ruins of their own cities, which had been declared ghettos and were usually built near Ayersium patches. Any part of a ruined city that Britannia was not interested in pretty much became a ghetto and they housed multiple terrorist groups, though they had major disagreements with one another; they were all united in one overall goal; defeat Britannia and reclaim what had been stolen from them. Terrorist attacks could happen at any time and anywhere. However, this did not dissuade the people from their everyday routine. Over the years, they had learned to live with it as they have learned to live with threat of Ayersium and if they happened to get caught up in an attack; that was just their bad luck.

However, a VTOL Britannian Police Aircraft happened to be following a truck on a road on the outskirts of the settlement. The truck had been hijacked by a terrorist group and was transporting something of great importance to the area's Viceroy, something so important that the military had saw fit to retrieve before the terrorists could use it for their own ends.

"This is Alpha Three," the pilot of the police aircraft said as he observed the truck moving along the road with high-rise buildings to the right and a lake to the left as the road was built at the rim, "Target is travelling from Delta Twelve toward Delta Fourteen at a speed of 80km/h."

"C.C.P. to all mobile units," a voice could be heard over the radio, "Declaring a Code Three from Floor Five to Floor Two; all units take 2-8-8. I want the target in tact."

The police aircraft just continued to follow the truck, tracking its progress.

Meanwhile in one of the many buildings within the settlement, a chess match was taking place between Ruben K. Ashford and a rich, overly dressed and overly confident nobleman. In the room was a TV at the far wall to the right of the door showing a news bulletin about a terrorist attack in Osaka.

"Here's video footage of yesterday's terrorist bombings in Osaka," the newswoman said as a picture of three buildings with the far right one billowing out smoke behind her to her left, "The secretary reported fifty-nine casualties in this incident; eight Britannians and fifty-one others."

Just then a timer that was sitting on the table next to the chessboard with its back to the TV started to beep just as one of the nobleman's aides, the one behind Ruben turned the TV off with a remote control.

"You're out of time," the aide said to the already nervous old man, "From here on, you'll make your moves every twenty seconds."

Ruben just stared at the nobleman who seemed more concerned about filing his nails that concentrating on the game. It made Ruben nervous and why shouldn't he be, he asked himself. The situation looked hopeless. Sure he had eleven pieces left on the board and his opponent only had ten, but from the positions of his pieces on the board, he had to say the nobleman had the advantage. In fact, all this man did was file his nails throughout the entire game, not once taking him seriously and given the man's status, Ruben had become nervous rather easily. They say that chess was a nobleman's game and the nobles were all professionals and from the looks of it, it seemed that that notion was a reality.

Ruben had to admit that despite his family's former noble status, he was not much of a chess player. The nobility always seemed to gamble, playing for stakes and unfortunately for Ruben, this was one bet he could not afford to lose. He may no longer be considered nobility, but this noble had been kind enough to offer him over half his wealth, so long as Ruben staked the ownership of Ashford Academy. Knowing that he'd lose the academy if he lost, Ruben's nervousness only increased. This man clearly had him beat. His confidence right from the start had said as much.

"Heh, very well, I'm game," the nobleman said in response to his aide's statement as he continued to file his nails, not caring much for the game as he saw it as a mere formality.

Ruben gulped as his hands slowly moved towards the board, shaking as he had not decided which piece he wanted to move; not that it mattered, this man was clearly the winner already and he knew it. Suddenly doors opened.

"Did your substitute arrive?" the nobleman asked in an uncaring tone, convinced that it did not matter who the replacement was as he was sure he had already won

"Oh, thank heaven, I'm saved," Ruben said as he got up and slowly ran over to his saviors, ignoring the nobleman's question; not that the nobleman cared, "Are things going well at school?"

"Things are going well," the figure the right replied in a male voice as he stepped into the light, revealing himself as a boy wearing a boy's school uniform of Ashford Academy.

"What have we here; a school kid?" the nobleman said in an unimpressed tone as he suppressed the urge to burst out in laughter, "Are you so desperate old man that you hired this wannabe to fill-in for you?"

"Well, look at this; a nobleman," the boy replied in an uncaring tone; appearing not to be affected by the insult as the boy beside him came into the light with short blue hair and grey eyes wearing a boy's school uniform of Ashford Academy.

"I envy you kids today, you have so much time on your hands," the nobleman countered, not caring about the boy's dismissive tone as he held one of his chess pieces in his fingers and tapped it down on the table.

"Well, well welcome to Babel Tower Mr. Chess Pro…you have made quite the name for yourself I hear unbeatable as they all claim."

"I don't consider myself the bragging type."

"Ha…really now that's fresh so what's your name kid?"

"Lelouch Lamperouge." the boy replied before studying the board to see what Ruben had left him to work with.

In all honesty, at first glance it seemed rather hopeless for him, but Lelouch knew a way how to turn it around and apparently, this overconfident oaf of a man had not caught on.

Unfortunately his friend did not think so.

"Wow, you can't possibly win this one, it's impossible right?" he said, studying the chessboard and completely missing what Lelouch had seen.

"Rivalz, when would we have to leave in order to make our next class?" Lelouch asked, ignoring Rivalz's comment as he stared down the nobleman.

"Eh, twenty minutes if we bust our humps," Rivalz replied after thinking it over for a few seconds.

Lelouch nodded with a smirk.

"Then be sure to drive safely on the way back," he replied simply as the nobleman impatiently tapped his chess piece on the table, indicating that he wanted to get things over with, "Just give me five, six minutes tops with this guy and we'll be on our way."

He then turned her attention to Ruben, who was still in the room, standing to his left slightly behind him.

"And by the way, about yesterday…" he went on.

"Understood sir, we'll discuss it later," Ruben replied, interrupting him.

"Good," Lelouch stated, nodding in content before turning his attention back to the nobleman.

"Five to six minutes, but you only have twenty seconds per move," the nobleman stated, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice as the timer beeped again.

"Enough time," Lelouch said as he reached for her king piece and played it.

"Hmm, you start with the king?" the nobleman asked in an amused tone before bursting into maniacal laughter.

Lelouch only responded with a deceptively kind and sweetly innocent smile… the sort of smile that seemed to say "I'm just an innocent boy, I can do no wrong" as he studied his opponent.

The nobleman had short, nicely-combed brown hair a small thin moustache the small colour as his hair and light blue eyes. He wore a red coat with golden outlining that decorated the front and black cuffs, a black jacket underneath that was buttoned up with white buttons, a white shirt and a white scarf wrapped round his neck with part of it running down his front and underneath his jacket like a tie. There was also a circular golden pin on the scarf at the front and Lelouch noticed the many rings that adorned his fingers on both hands. All in all, it was as if he was immaculately clean and his clothes were spotless.

Predictable as ever, he told himself. Like many of the opponents he had faced in the past, this man was another overconfident noble that liked to show off his wealth and use it to boast about how he was better than everyone else. Nobles seemed to find it effective in their gambling as showing off their status and boasting about it seemed to scare their opponents into either giving up or making mistakes they could have easily avoided and giving the noble the victory, at least that's how Lelouch saw it.

However, he could see right through this man's overly-done façade. Like he said, he could beat this man in five to six minutes, playing seriously and he knew just how to do it with the nobleman not knowing that he was beaten until he had said the word, "checkmate".

"Poor fool won't know what hit him," he thought with a mental laugh.

"Then you can call me the Black King and here in Babel Tower I am king so better enjoy your undefeated title for a little while longer." nobleman said.

"I won't give it up easily." Lelouch replied with a grin.

Meanwhile, the occupants of the truck that had been driving into the settlement had just noticed that they were being followed by the police aircraft.

"Perfect, after we finally steal this damn thing," the male driver growled with gritted teeth, "It's all because Tamaki couldn't stick to Naoto's plan and now we've got a problem."

The female passenger remained silent with her cap over her eyes as the patrol helicopter continued to track their progress.

Meanwhile, back inside the building where Lelouch had substituted for Ruben, the nobleman's nail file fell to the floor as Lelouch had made his final move and nobleman realized that he had been beaten. Exactly five minutes and two seconds after their match began Lelouch moved his chess piece into position and claimed checkmate winning the game and stealing victory right out from underneath the black king's nose.

"I guess I'll enjoy my undefeated streak a little while longer. Checkmate." Lelouch said as a smile crept onto his face as he witnessed the nobleman's look of disbelief; the look of someone who believed that their whole world had crumbled to dust.

However, since this nobleman was foolish enough to stake over half his financial wealth, Lelouch could not say he blamed him. He had just earned enough money to support himself, Rolo and Altria for a full three months.

"Okay, now pay up Mr Spacer, I believe I won," he said with a smile and his tone deceptively polite.

He loved defeating those of the nobility who were arrogant snobs. Every time they lost, from the looks on their faces, it was like their worlds had caved in around them and to Lelouch, he was giving them a hard slap in the face, knocking them off their high horses and causing them to come crashing back down to reality, just like his father had done to him. Each new opponent he devastated, he pictured his father with the same expression on his face. His father had given him a hard slap of reality when he had him exiled along with Nunnally and Waldstein siblings. To him, each victory was a victory against the Empire… each victory was a victory against his tyrannical father whom he swore to bring down.

The nearest aide to the nobleman, Mr Spacer's left wrote out a check and handed it to Lelouch, seeing as his superior was frozen in shock, still unable to comprehend how he had been beaten. He could have checkmated Lelouch if he had lasted just three more turns. However, he noticed that Lelouch's remaining pawns had practically boxed his king in. He had had multiple opportunities to take them out of play, but he did not see it as being worthwhile and now he had paid the price.

"A word of advice Mr Spacer, don't underestimate the value of pawns," Lelouch said as he turned to leave along with Rivalz, the two boys stepped out of the building and entered the parking lot where the Rivalz bike sat waiting for the two in a parking stall with Lelouch using his credit card to take care of the parking fee.

"I love playing against the nobility," Rivalz said as he and Lelouch stood in the elevator on the way down to the ground floor, "When they lose, they always pay out of pride; by the way, five minutes and two seconds in a new record."

In truth, he could not believe that Lelouch had managed to pull a rabbit out of the hat so to speak. Right up until the very end, it seemed that Mr Spacer had the advantage, but then Lelouch had moved his last pawn into place and that was that. He had been concentrating on the positions of Lelouch's most valuable pieces and not on the positions of his own and he overlooked the pawns as well. He had to admit that Lelouch was amazing.

"He also didn't have much time to move either," Lelouch replied as the elevator reached the ground floor and they both started walking across the lobby to the exit, "And as opponents go, the nobles are tepid. They're just over-privileged parasites, that's all."

"Over-privileged parasites that feel that they own the world and can't stomach the idea of being outdone and shown up for the overrated idiots they really are by commoners," he added in his thoughts with a grimace as he remembered how infuriated the Imperial Consorts were when Lady Marianne proved her worth as a noblewoman despite her commoner status and making many of the others seem like amateurs.

"Well then, why don't you challenge one of the Elevens," Rivalz asked, bringing him out of his thoughts as he ran in front of her and turned to face him while walking backed with his hands clasped behind his head as the automatic doors behind him opened, "They're nothing like us Britannians."

"Not Elevens Rivalz, they're Japanese!" Lelouch snapped with uncharacteristic fury in his voice, causing Rivalz to jump in astonishment.

However, before he could reply, he overheard mumbles from behind him.

"Huh?" he said as he turned around and both he and Lelouch looked up to see a huge-screen TV on the side of the building on the opposite side of the street showing footage from the previous day's terrorist attacks in Osaka.

"Just what are they trying to prove by killing innocent people?" they heard a man ask.

"Those Elevens terrify me," a woman stated.

As boys were about to leave an announcement was being broadcast over a large monitor on the side of a nearby building with a female announcer speaking.

"We apologize for the delay…now his royal highness Prince Clovis Third Prince of Britannia will address the nation."

The image on the TV changed again to a man with flamboyantly dirty blonde hair and light greenish blue eyes wearing gloves that ran up the length of his arms, a blue jacket with golden outlining and crescent shapes wherever it happened to be buttons; two crescents back-to-back and facing upwards and downwards. He also adorned a white cape with epaulets that spanned his shoulders and a small rope running over a cloth that he had hanging out the top of his coat like a tie. Behind him was grey wall with red curtains visible at either side of the screen and in the middle was a Britannian flag outlined with thin orange and thick yellow and the bottom with shaped like an arrow pointing downwards with the orange becoming thick and highlighted by the thick yellow outline. Lelouch's eyes cast a vicious glare at Clovis as he began to give his address to his royal subjects as he put it.

"To all my Imperial subjects," the man, who was obviously Prince Clovis, started to say, as Lelouch's eyes narrowed just as Clovis held his arms up at his sides like he was acknowledging an audience, "Including of course the many cooperative Elevens that choose to serve the Empire of Britannia."

Meanwhile, the terrorists in the truck that was fleeing from the police were watching a mini-TV built into the truck and were also listening to Clovis's speech.

"We're not Elevens, we're Japanese," the female passenger growled bitterly with venomous hatred in her voice.

"They're not Elevens, they're Japanese you overly pompous twit," Lelouch thought bitterly, glaring up at the screen, imagining that Clovis was right there so he could give him a piece of his mind.

"Do you not see my pain?" Clovis went on as he brought his hand over his heart and grasped his jacket as if he were suffering a heart attack, in an overly dramatic fashion "My heart was ripped from my chest only to be torn apart. The remnants are filled with rage and sadness. However, as ruler of Area Eleven, I will not tolerate terrorism of any kind because the battle we fight is a righteous one; a virtuous battle to protect the well-being of one and all. Now then everyone, I would like you to join me in observance of the eight who died for justice; in the line of duty."

"A moment of silence please," the electronic voice boomed as Rivalz prepared his bike.

"Oh please what a pathetic act." Lelouch thought as he went about his business putting away his card with Rivalz asking.

"Heh, it's sort of embarrassing," Rivalz replied as he mounted himself on the bike.

"And I agree with you," Lelouch said in agreement, "Besides, spilling tears over those people won't bring them back to life now, will it?"

"Dang, that's dark buddy," Rivalz responded, placing his goggles over his eyes.

"It's all about self-satisfaction," Lelouch went on, though whether it was a response to his comment or if he had ignored him and was just continuing his speech, Rivalz did not know, "Doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't do it. There's no way you can change the world."

There was a bitter tone hidden in his voice as she glared up at the now blank TV screen. If tears could bring people back, then mother and them would have been brought back years ago; not that he was against grieving and mourning. After all, bereavements causing sadness and pain was natural. However, he knew that Clovis was blowing it out of proportions.

It was typical Britannian pride, he figured; caring only for their own while everyone else did not matter in the slightest. Clovis was one such example, displayed in his speech, acting like a wounded child, saddened by his injuries and pleading for help. He was a good actor, he would give him that much. Many of the Britannians living in the settlements were too ignorant and self-absorbed with themselves to see through his façade; either that or, in some cases, they just did not care and it was that attitude that sickened him. The majority of people did not seem to realize that non-Britannians were people as well just like them. Clovis, in Lelouch's opinion was just an arrogant pig-headed fool that was way too obsessed with himself.

To any smart person, it was clear that he cared more about his appearance than his duties as the area's viceroy and like the noblemen he had faced in the past, used his overly immaculate good looks and status to get by. Lelouch doubted that Clovis could handle a proper crisis and would probably duck for cover at the first sign of trouble while leaving his forces to deal with the imposing threat.

"You've become just as corrupt as that man," he thought bitterly, cringing as the words, "that man"; the term he used to address his father, passed through his mind as he climbed into the pillion attached to the motorcycle as he remembered his time with Clovis before he and Nunnally were exiled, "Are you really that weak that you allow that man to poison your mind with his tyrannical garbage?"

Meanwhile, in the building where Clovis had given his speech, Clovis stood on a platform as the robotic cameras and microphones ascended and removed themselves as Clovis descended a small flight of stairs leading down from the platform. The room itself was filled with well-dressed men and woman gossiping and having drinks with one another.

"You were magnificent Your Highness," a woman spoke, commenting Clovis on his performance, "One would never guess that you were attending a party while doing that."

"After all, the Viceroy is the marquee actor of Area Eleven," Clovis replied dismissively as two aides came from either side and removed his cloak for him, "I need to change costumes quickly."

"My, you're so self-confident," the woman replied as Clovis brushed his fingers against the cloth hanging out from the top of his jacket.

"It's all in the performance," Clovis went on, not caring for the woman's comment, looking off to his left, "Since the media want a charismatic prince, I give them one."

"Untrue," a man who was obviously a journalist from the media spoke up, "Prince Clovis, our key purpose in life is to support and assist your reign in any way we can."

"His reign is a pathetic sham," a man leaning against the wall to the right of the entrance door just mumbled, looking up from a book he was reading.

He was situated behind the journalists and reading a book, clearly uninterested in the party and was one of the few who knew Clovis's true colors and how he had little to no regard whatsoever to even his own people and would no doubt use them all as human shields to save his skin.

"My, my, your mother, Gabriella would be so proud if she saw you now," a woman said in an almost boastful tone as she walked in front of Clovis.

This woman, who had waist-length red hair and blue eyes, caused Clovis to shiver. She had black lipstick lining her lips and wore a red strapless dress with matching red high-heeled shoes and a necklace with a hexagonal shaped diamond ruby.

"I'm sure she would be… Lady Roberta ne Britannia," Clovis replied with a cringe, trying hard to keep the fear out of his voice.

This woman, Roberta ne Britannia was, along with his own mother, Gabriella la Britannia one of his father's many wives. Unfortunately, she kept on making frequent trips over to "Area Eleven" and constantly harassed him for tougher measures in handling the "Numbers" as the natives were called. Of course, he knew the truth. Clovis remembered when his father had Roberta's youngest child, Carline ne Britannia. They don't only look same, but they had same personality although Roberta was more fond in massacres of those who were not Britannians as she was (slightly) xenophobic.

In palace, Roberta had absolutely despised Lady Marianne with a passion and was actually quite pleased that she had "removed" as she saw it. In Roberta's eyes, Lady Marianne had been a curse on the nobility due to her commoner status and the fact that she was able to hide it well with her actions. Many of the other Imperial Consorts did dislike Lady Marianne for her commoner status, but they did have some degree of respect for her due to her phenomenal skills as a Knightmare pilot and how she managed to hold her own against them all when they ganged up on her. However, unlike them, Roberta was amongst those who had no respect for Lady Marianne whatsoever and absolutely reviled her and detested her children.

After the war with Japan was over, she saw it as a chance to turn Japan as her new playground. However, since she was not the Viceroy, she could not do anything, so she constantly harassed and pressured Clovis, the current Viceroy into introducing new laws that would oppress the "Elevens" even further, though Clovis believed that her plan was to provoke them into rebelling in order to look for an excuse to kill as many of them off as possible.

That had worked on Clovis who was more of artist than leader. True to his outward image, he was as ignorant and as arrogant as he made himself appear to be. In truth, he was not much of a leader, preferring his talent for art and wanted to take up painting. He only became Viceroy upon his father's insistence, plus the added threat of disinheritance if he refused. Unfortunately, his lack of leadership skills made it easy for Roberta to manipulate him. He felt like he was nothing more than a puppet with Roberta as his puppeteer, pulling his strings and that notion terrified him. If anything went wrong with her plans, he would be the one who would ultimately pay the price.

He knew that it was because of Roberta that he had lasted this long as Viceroy. She was the one who arranged everything he needed for his facade, as it also meant it kept the public from knowing that she was the one who truly held power here.

"Y-your Highness, Lady Roberta," a voice came, bringing Clovis out of his thoughts as he turned to see a pudgy bald-headed solder wearing a monocle over his right eye came running towards him and Roberta.

"Huh, a soldier," the man leaning against the wall behind the journalists said quietly as he noticed the man running right past him.

"Gad, how boorish of you," Clovis said in a scolding tone

"I beg you're pardon Your Highness; My Lord, My Lady," the soldier said as he proceeded to tell them what was wrong.

"Not another appearance for him," the man leaning against the wall said, looking towards Clovis before he turned to leave; clearly unable to stand being in his presence any longer, "I hope it's not a dreary…"

"You fool!" he heard Roberta exclaim, causing him to stop and turn back to look on curiously.

"The police were informed that it was medical equipment, that's all," the soldier spoke, keeping his voice barely above a whisper, "If we scramble the army, there'll be a…"

"Can't we use CHES-forces?" asked Roberta.

Crown's Hardened Elite Specialist Forces, or CHES-forces for short, were armed force of Titans Foundation found by Maximillian at Britannia. Its public head is duke Edmond Boyle, but almost everyone knew that they don't do thing without approval of At Britannia princes. Titans were responsible for most of Britannia's discoveries about Ayersium and they used that information to get their hands in every aspect of industry. Their most notable achievements were sonic emitter technology which was used to fight against Ayersium, mechanical suits Britannians used to in red and orange zones and Automatons.

Automatons were like Knightmares with some differences. Most important difference is unique type of control system of which a pilot is connected to a pod with several connections to his body and the machine is piloted from a remote station. In this state the pilot is immobilized and controls the Automaton through what appears to be simple thought process and synchronization. This allows for finer control of the machine and better response time to a threat. While in theory it also cancels any life-threating situations, by removing the pilot from the war-zone, due to high-level connection between pilot and machine, if the machine sustains damage, the pilot also suffers adverse effects, which causes other handlers to disconnect the pilot from the system due to fear of severe injury and/or death. Second is that its design allows use of magnetic joints which gives them ability of transform in tank form like some machines of Chinese Federation and place in-built weapons. Tank form allows carrying large equipment which is why fifth generation Automatons can fight amongst Knightmares of Britannia. Almost all CHES-members use Automaton. Two most notable Automatons are front-line type Gautier and heavy mobile artillery siege unit Pacifier.

CHES were amongst most ruthless of GDI associations so people like Roberta used them almost always when there is going to be destruction.

"We can't My Lady. Margrave Segal told they had to go with most forces in Shikou-islands in order to follow glue about base of Funeral Parlor."

Funeral Parlor was name that made Roberta's blood pressure to rise. They were one of the three strongest terrorist groups in Area 11 while strongly backed by international anti-Britannia organization Neon Avalon. Two others are remnants of Japanese military Japan Liberation Front and Clouds of East backed by Federation. Funeral Parlor has given most trouble for Britannians than any group in Area 11. Video where they announced their existence is still rolling in TV sometimes. "The world always forces a choice on its inhabitants. 'Survival of the fittest': that is the law this world operates by according to emperor. We continue to offer funeral songs to the ones selected out. Hence 'Funeral Parlor.' The name signifies that we are always on the singing side-that we are the survivors! We will continue to resist GDI, who took Japan from its people. We will fight against everyone and everything that attempts to select us out."

"Deploy the Royal Guard; the Knightmares as well," Rocberta said in a demanding tone, unknowingly raising her voice.

"N-n-now wait a m-minute…" Clovis said in an attempt to protest.

"You know as well as I do that we can't have this little project of ours making it into the public domain," Roberta interrupted him in a quiet, yet harsh tone, "You know what will happen if knowledge of this was be made public."

Clovis opened his mouth to protest, a after a small glare from Roberta, closed it and shook his head with a sigh.

"Do as she says Bartley," Clovis said in a defeated tone.

Not long afterwards in a Knightmare hanger, an alarm sounded as the Knightmare pilots made their way to their Knightmares.

"Alert one, alert one," an electronically recorded voice said, "Fourth, seventh and eighth rapid-reaction companies, as well as the thirty-first air-assault team, immediately scramble. Special division nine stand by for deployment."

Two pilots; Jeremiah Gottwald and his second-in-command of the Pureblood Faction, Villetta Nu both got inside their Knightmares Sutherlands ready for their next mission whatever it may be as they started up their Knightmares.

Meanwhile, Rivalz and Lelouch were on their way back to Ashford Academy as Rivalz drove along the highway with Lelouch reading a book. So far the trip had been quiet; however, unable to take the silence any longer, Rivalz decided to start a conversation.

"That first move you made," he started, referring to Lelouch's chess match with Mr Spacer as Lelouch raised his head from his book, "Why'd you start with the king?"

"Like I told Mr Spacer, if the king does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow." Lelouch replied, clearly wanting to go back to reading his book.

"What's with that?" Rivalz replied in confusion.

"With what?" Lelouch responded with a shrug.

"Do you fantasize about running a major corporation?" Rivalz asked with interest.

"No way, ambitions like that will ruin you health," Lelouch replied with a hint of frustration, "Now can you please be quiet? I'm trying to read."

When they were driving near Shinjuku ghetto suddenly they heard something coming fast behind them. When Lelouch turned he saw some truck little behind them. Suddenly Hammerhead gunship appeared behind building and hailed truck with short burst from its two twin rotary cannons. Some hit front of truck and it drove out of road towards ghetto. It drove inside tunnel. Rivalz drove at side of road and stopped.

"Damn idiots!" Lelouch snarled at Hammerheads, when something caught his eye. Above the truck, near a ladder, there was a glimmer of what looked like green and white dust. Moving fast, he moved to the truck, picking their way across the sandy ground while bystanders looked on, taking pictures and mocking the scene in low voices. Lelouch just ignored it, but not without difficulty.

"Hey where are you going?" Rivalz yelled.

"I'm going to check this. You go ahead back to academy." Lelouch answered while walking past large tower that sent Ayersium shattering sonic sound.

Reaching the truck, he called out to the driver. When there was no response, he climbed the ladder, looking for an entrance to the cab. All of a sudden, the vehicle jerked, sending him falling into the container.

Kallen snarled as the Britannian helicopters ordered them to surrender. The helicopters fired, purposefully missing the truck, although Nagata still swerved.

"Shit, the army's here. What are we going to do?" Nagata swore.

"That's why I'm here!" Kallen snapped, taking off the cap that disguised her face and heading to the back of the cab, through the door to the container. Passing the spherical object she and Nagata had stolen, she discarded her jacket and the radio attached to it, stripping down to her piloting outfit. As it landed on the floor, the radio called out.

"We can get into the underground if we go through the ghetto." Nagata suggested.

"That would mean a massacre!" Kallen retorted, climbing into what looked like a large box. She didn't notice the pair of lavender eyes watching her.

Behind the truck, the helicopters' guns levered to aim at it. However, a large blade-like object on a very thin wire lashed out from a slit in the back of the truck, stabbing into the leading helicopter and neatly piercing it in the cockpit. As the weapon withdrew, the slit opened further.

"A-a slash harken?" One of the surviving pilots gasped, as a red machine emerged from the back of the truck, an eye-like orb on its head retracting and being covered by four metal covers as its feet slamming into the ground and wheels attached to its heels via metallic bars lowered, reversing and dragging the machine back.

"Shit! It's a Knightmare!" Another pilot cried, his helicopter swerving as his shaking hands jostled the control stick.

"You guys know how powerful this thing is, right!?" Kallen cried, swerving the Knightmare, a RPI-11 Glasgow, around the shots the aircraft fired in panic, as the Knightmare's two slash harkens lashed out at them, with the same effect as the first victim. As two of the three helicopters exploded, an aircraft with a blue Knightmare ensconced in its center accelerated through the debris cloud.

The slash harkens connected with one of the gunships, but then a Knightmare VTOL; a VTOL craft designed for transporting Knightmares with the design of a fighter jet… or at least the cockpit was shaped like that of a fighter jet.

"The rest of you back off," a man's voice boomed from the aircraft, "I'll take this guy."

"You pull back." Ordered a more commanding voice than first one's. "Let me handle this." With that, the Knightmare, a more advanced RPI-13 Sutherland, lowered itself to the ground by its slash harkens, one detaching immediately, sending the machine into an uncontrolled looking spiral. Kallen, nervous, launched one of her harkens. The Sutherland's free anchor shot out, parrying the blow.

"I don't know where you're from, but an old Glasgow will never defeat a Sutherland!" The blue frame's pilot announced, as the Sutherland's landspinners met the ground and continued the spiral, with the pilot expertly correcting it. "And neither can some damned Eleven!" The pilot roared, levering his frames rifle and firing a shot from its top-mounted grenade launcher. The grenade impacted on the Glasgow's right arm, Kallen using it to shield her mecha from the majority of the damage, losing the limb in the process.

Kallen fired off her slash harkens, only to have them deflected by the enemy Knightmare's slash harkens. As the enemy Knightmare landed with its back to her, it suddenly spun to face her as its slash harkens recoiled, moving like whips.

"Not to mention a filthy Eleven that spurns the compassion of our glorious Emperor," the enemy Knightmare's pilot, Jeremiah Gottwald, who had been the voice talking said as he readied his Knightmare's assault rifle and fired into Kallen's Knightmare, scoring a hit and causing Kallen to manoeuvre her Knightmare to prevent it from falling over.

In the cockpit of Kallen's Knightmare, Kallen gritted her teeth as she tried desperately to avoid falling over. She knew that her Knightmare, which was a known as a Glasgow was no match for the enemy Knightmare. This was bad. The group had sacrificed so much just to get this one Knightmare, despite it being obsolete in order to use against Britannia. Like the enemy pilot had said, they had managed to salvage it from a scrap yard and rebuild it. However, Britannia had more advanced models at their disposal, like this Sutherland and against even one of them; Kallen knew that she stood no chance. She just hoped that more would not show up, since even against one Sutherland; a Glasgow had no chance of victory.

"Kallen, we must both split up," she heard Nagata's voice over a radio within the cockpit, "Both of us can't risk being killed. Run for it!"

"But…" Kallen started to protest.

Another Sutherland unfortunately emerged after travelling up the highway support beams and landed in front of the truck and fired its assault rifle at it. However, Nagata turned the truck down a side road before reaching the Sutherland and drove off, though the Sutherland did not follow.

"Hah, simple-minded Eleven," the Sutherland's pilot, Villetta Nu mused to herself with a laugh from inside the cockpit as she watched the truck drive off, deciding not to pursue, but that it was more fun to play a game of cat and mouse.

Back with Kallen and Jeremiah, the slash harkens from Kallen's Glasgow jammed and would not fire, obviously having suffered damage from Jeremiah's connected shot.

"No way, it's stuck," Kallen exclaimed as she hurriedly moved her hand over other controls.

"Second-hand junk," Jeremiah said as he rolled his Sutherland in, using one of its stun tonfas, immediately above its hand and brought it down on Kallen's Glasgow. However, the left arm of the Glasgow suddenly shot off towards Jeremiah and into the path of his attack, taking the hit and then Kallen made her escape through the resulting smoke.

Inside the Sutherland's cockpit, Jeremiah had an impressed look on his face as he had been caught off guard at the enemy pilot's willingness to sacrifice their knightmare's arm to make their getaway.

"I'll admit, I really like your spirit," he complimented before his face twisted into a sadistic grin, "However…"

Meanwhile in military base near to the Viceroy Palace, Bartley was confronted with Lloyd Asplund, the head of Special Corp who was currently staring at him right in his face with an impressed look on his face.

"Ah ha," Lloyd said in an interested tone.

"What are you doing?" Bartley asked in a dumbfounded tone.

He clearly did not like this man to say the least. In truth, he felt that this man was a major annoyance to everyone he met. Lloyd Asplund seemed to be the sort of man that managed to get under everyone's skin without even trying with his comments and strange facial expressions.

"Looking at a man who blundered, am I right?" Lloyd replied as a few tanks passed by in the background.

"Why you…" Bartley growled, gritting his teeth as he restrained himself from punching the man right in the face.

Seriously, what was with this man? It was as if he was deliberately trying to provoke people to take a swing at him.

"You really screwed this one up," he went on, not caring for Bartley's disapproval of his presence as more military weaponry passed by in the background, "Terrorists came along and stole whatever it was you, Prince Clovis and Lady Roberta were secretly working on. Retrieving it is simple, but you want to sweep up all of their compatriots in addition. Let the terrorists go and you can find their hideout to."

He then flashed Bartley a smile before turning to his assistant, Cecile Croomy and Rowan, who works with Lloyd as representative of Titans Foundation who were having joint project with ASEEC, who were currently standing behind him.

"Congratulations, your reasoning was spot on," he said to her, causing Cecile to look on in surprise.

"I-it was nothing, I just thought it was strange," she replied after regaining her composure and giving him a polite bow.

"Okay that's enough, just what it that the Special Corp wants out of this?" Bartley asked, fighting to keep his composure and wishing this insufferable lunatic would just get to the point so he could leave.

"I'm merely saying that I would like to assist with the cleanup," Lloyd replied, as he leaned over making a strange posture.

"To assist?" Bartley asked questioningly with genuine curiosity, also laced with a hint of suspicion; suspicion that this crackpot was after his project.

"Correct because it's data I want for the sake of my Lancelot and Arthur." Lloyd replied, which did nothing to diminish Bartley's suspicions; in fact it only caused his suspicions to increase.

Just how much did this man know anyway and if he knew more than he should, just how did he get his hands on that information? Of course, he could just be paranoid and his paranoia was mixing in with his own dislike for the man, but with Lloyd Asplund, one could never be too sure.

"Excuse me," Cecile spoke up, as she looked up at Bartley, "But what in the world have they just stolen anyway.

Bartley hesitated for a moment as he glared ahead and then he sighed.

"Chemical weapons," he said in a low voice, "In other words, poison gas."

That was a lie, but the less people knew about the truth the better. In truth he had nothing against Cecile and pitied her for having to work with and tolerate her nutcase of a boss all day. How she managed to do it without being driven insane was beyond him, though he had a feeling that her quiet nature and shy look was an affect of being with that man for prolonged periods of time. However, Cecile put his mind to rest somewhat and caused his suspicions to lessen, though he was still on guard in case Lloyd did suspect something and was looking to uncover the truth in order to take over the project himself. Rowan only had some glint from his glasses and continued programming of something.

Lloyd was a hard man to read and it was difficult to determine what his ambitions were. Bartley knew that he could not afford to drop his guard while around this man because who knew what went on in that twisted mind of his?

As the truck continued its path underground, above ground in the ghetto that had once been Shinjuku, one of twenty-three of Tokyo's special wards and an old commercial and administrative center before the appearance of Ayersium, the residents were going about their daily lives, foraging for whatever they could find. The Shinjuku ward had nothing of interest fir the Britannians other than possible outbreak of Ayer which is why sonic emitters were placed and so they left it in ruins when they built the Tokyo Settlement and drove the Japanese out. Some had taken refuge in the ruined buildings of Shinjuku ignoring Ayersium radiation and turned them into make-shift houses and thus Shinjuku was reclassified a ghetto since it was an area where "Elevens" lived and had no interest to Britannians whatsoever.

Life was hard for the people living in the ghettos, since food and water was mostly scarce and polluted by Ayersium and the living conditions were no different than those of slums. Some died having succumbed to illnesses and diseases, and yet, the people still managed to get by, making ends meat, thankful for what little they had. What they had was not much, but to poor people such as them who had been driven out of their homes and now living in oppression, it was better than nothing.

However, the peace of the ghetto was disturbed when the residents caught sight of Britannian military VTOL aircraft. This made many of them nervous as in the past sometimes the Britannians would move into the ghettos and drive the residents out in order to extend their settlements to make more living space whenever they felt that the settlements were getting too crowded. This act was not that common, but news of past incidents had spread among the Japanese and they knew that a military build-up was not good since the Britannians always used their military to clear out the ghettos.

One child even hid behind her father while tugging onto the bottom of his shirt as her father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as they both, along with the other residents saw soldiers being lowered to the ground.

"The terrorists are hiding in the subway system," a came over the soldiers' communicators as they were being lowered, "Your mission is to locate the weapon that they've stolen. Investigate the old subway system that runs through the Eleven residential district in the Shinjuku Ghetto. Report in the moment you spot them. Recovery of the target will be handled by us, the Royal Guard. You people bare the honorary title of Britannians, but you were born Elevens; therefore the stench of these monkeys aught to be a familiar one. If you want to earn the right to carry arms then show some results…"

After the soldiers touched down, they made their way to the entrances of the old subway stations as the residents all scrambled to get out of their way. Sure they could probably try and attack them like they had many foolish Britannian civilians that had ventured into their territory, but since they were soldiers, they figured that it was not a good idea since it would no doubt incur the wrath of the entire military upon the entire ghetto, so they just ran off and hid, hoping that the soldiers would leave.

Up in a white and red VTOL Transport near the back of the many aircraft over the ghetto, the leader of the Royal Guard, who had been the one briefing the soldiers was just finishing up with his speech.

"This is your opportunity to show your loyalty to Britannia," he concluded in a professional tone.

"Yes, my Lord," came the voices of all the soldiers in unison over the communicator, causing the leader to smirk.

The Royal Guard under the command of Prince Clovis knew the truth of what the terrorists had really stolen, which was why they had told the soldiers to let them recover it. They were under the notion that the terrorists had stolen poison gas and were being used as bloodhounds to sniff out the terrorists and eliminate them while they the Royal Guard came in and retrieved the target, leaving the clueless soldiers none the wiser.

For the retrieval, they had decided to use a unit that consisted of Honorary Britannians; people from conquered nations who had joined the Britannian military. It was a system that the Britannian authorities thought up as a means of controlling the "Numbers". "Numbers" with Honorary Britannian status were allowed to live in the settlements and were legally citizens of Britannia and given equal rights as the Britannians themselves.

However, it was a system that did not sit too well with a lot of Britannians and those "Numbers" with Honorary status were regarded by most as simple "Numbers" and were frowned upon for considering themselves as being their equals, especially when they proved to be just as good, if not better at certain things than they were, which many Britannians just could not stand. Many Britannians saw Honorary Britannians as an insult and a stain on their otherwise "perfect" society. The Pureblood or Purist Faction were among the worst factions for openly speaking out against the Honorary Britannian system, trying multiple times in the past to have it abolished and those with Honorary status were considered by their own people; those who could see through Britannia's illusion as traitors.

However, to the military, Honorary Britannians were excellent cannon fodder and many of the higher-ups saw them nothing more than expendable pawns that they could easily cut off if they were ever in trouble. It was why the Royal Guard had sent in Honorary Britannians and not Pureblood Britannians. If one of the soldiers became too curious for his own good and discovered the truth, then it would be easier silencing him than it would be if he was a natural-born Britannian. Honorary Britannians were a lot easier to dispose of once their usefulness expired and with that in mind, the Royal Guard General smiled. No one would spill tears over the loss of an Honorary Britannian as they were born "Numbers" and was despised by many for considering otherwise and were regarded by their own as traitors.

One solider proceeded past a group of people gathered around an entrance to the underground, proceeding down the tunnel. As he looked, he heard a whirring sound, like a wheel caught in a hole. Looking towards the noise, his visor scanned the site. There was a truck deeper in the tunnel, its wheels actually caught in a hole. As the soldier watched, the side of the truck opened up, revealing the same spherical container he and his comrades had been told to look for. Getting behind some rubble, the soldier tapped twice on the right breast of his riot armor, sending a signal to his superiors.

Above the area, in the command VTOL, an operator reported the Royal Guard commander.

"404 has found the target."

"Right! Prepare to move out!"

Back in the tunnel, the soldier watched as man dressed in some kind of black uniform stepped out from behind the container, running his hands over it.

What he- he isn't trying to activate it, are he!? Deciding not to risk it, 404 sprinted out from behind his cover, running for the man. As 404, reached him, he kicked off the ground, spinning into be a kick that sent terrorist in ground.

"Don't kill anymore!" terrorist said.

"What are you-" interrupting the terrorist, 404 continued.

"Poison gas! You must be insane!" The he stood up, a snarl on his face.

"Britannia made that poison gas, didn't it?"

The soldier was shocked as he processed his appearance. "You-"

"I'm not here be choice," he said, "I admit that I did try to help them when they crashed earlier, but that was before I knew they were terrorists. My friend and I were on our way back to school when they came speeding towards us and they swerved to avoid Hammerhead's firing and ended up crashing. I went to see if they needed help and I was stupid enough to climb the trunk to find a way to get to them and then they recovered and sped off with me having fallen in the back. That's the truth, I swear it."

He then paused and turned to look at the capsule, failing to notice the soldier's surprised look when he had stepped into the light.

"My god," he said in a tone of disbelief, staring at Lelouch for several seconds, unsure what to say.

"And if that's poison gas, it was made in Britannia, wasn't it?" Lelouch went on as he shot the soldier a glare, furious that he had mistaken him for a terrorist despite the fact that he would gladly fight against Britannia any day of the week, "Mindless murder… then why don't you just eradicate Britannia's corruption. If you want no more deaths, then destroy the Britannian Empire!" The Lelouch cried out. He was shocked when the soldier said:

"Lelouch?" Pulling his helmet off, the soldier revealed an Asian face, with brown hair and, unusually, green eyes. "It's me, Suzaku." Lelouch taken aback, as memories flashed unbidden through his mind.

"You became a Britannian soldier?" Lelouch asked bitterly.

"Well, what about you?" Before any more accusations could be exchanged, the container glowed as the seals began to open. Suzaku dashed for Lelouch, tackling him to the ground as he covered both his mouth with a gas mask. The sphere continued to open, the upper two thirds splitting into four and lowered. In the golden light, a feminine form uncoiled, yellow eyes gazing at the trio before the shape collapsed, green hair falling around her.

Meanwhile, Kallen had managed to escape from Jeremiah and had taken refuge underground in a sewer. Her Glasgow remained stationary in the sewer with the front of its head opened up revealing a small dark grey dome with a light at the front. The light flashed from yellow to red and each time it changed from yellow to red, it sent a green circle running down the dome. It was known as a factsphere sensor; an advanced camera that relayed live thermographic images and data to the pilot and was usually protected under a retractable layer of armour; in the case of the Glasgows and Sutherlands; at the front of the heads. The factsphere sensor also allowed greater system sensitivity while retracted and Kallen had activated hers in order to detect movement in case the enemy found her since she knew that even though she had evaded them for the moment, she could not afford to drop her guard. She sat in the cockpit as she relayed what had happened to someone over the Glasgow's communicator.

"In all the confusion, I left it in the coat," she explained, referring to the fact that she had misplaced her communicator in the rush to get inside the Glasgow.

"It's okay," a voice, a man's voice assured her over the communicator, "The Glasgow's circuits are usable. So were we right?"

"Think so," Kallen replied as she rested her right wrist on her knee and held a piece of paper in her left, "I bet it is poison gas like intelligence said."

"And Nagata?" the man's voice asked curiously with a hint of worry in evident in his voice.

"I don't know," Kallen replied with equal concern in her voice, "I think he made it underground."

Meanwhile in the front of the truck, Nagata had unfastened his seatbelt and was now lying across both seats holding his side as he groaned at the pain he was currently experiencing from bullet that Hammerhead had fired as he waited to either be rescued by his cohorts or arrested or killed by Britannian forces. He knew that either could happen. However, if it turned out to be Britannians that found him… well, he had a rather nasty surprise in store for them. Of course, there was always the possibility that he'd bleed to death before anyone found him. He knew that his chances of survival were rather slim… and were getting slimmer by the second, but he had no regrets. After all, Britannia had taken everything from him, including his wife and child who were fatalities of the war. He had absolutely nothing to lose and therefore did not fear death. However, he would prefer that if he was going to die, then he could take as many Britannians with him as possible and drag them down to Hell with him.

Astonished, Suzaku let the Lamperouge up, and they all stared at the girl for a few seconds before moving to assist. Lelouch cleaned her face of the strange liquid inside the capsule, while Suzaku unbound her limbs.

"Well Suzaku? Does this look like poison gas to you?" Lelouch demanded.

"I don't understand...they told us it was-"

"Hey you! What are you doing, touching what even genuine Britannians shouldn't touch?" The call came from the front of the tunnel, where the Royal Guard stood, the commander at the front. Suzaku got up and ran over, leaving the Britannian student with the girl.

"Sir...I don't understand. They told us-"

"Shut up monkey! There's only one way to redeem yourself from this sin...kill the terrorist!" The commander ordered, shoving a pistol at Suzaku.

"But...I couldn't do that! He is just civilian!" Suzaku said, turning to glance worriedly at Lelouch.

"Suzaku, are you brain dead or something?" Former prince shouted at the top of his voice, causing Suzaku to jump as he noticed Lelouch glaring at his superior, "He probably already knows that I'm not one of them, but that doesn't matter. Don't you see, you were told this was poison gas and instead, it's just a girl who I doubt is just a love interest who refused a member of the Imperial Family's advances and was probably been used for scientific experiments. Bottom line is, we've both seen too much. We're witnesses to something we were not meant to see and if it were to be made public, it could result in a scandal against someone of importance. Even if you did kill me, they'd probably just kill you next anyway because you also saw what you were not meant to see."

"Very perceptive of you boy," the general said flipping the pistol around in his hand, pulling the trigger. The shot, at close range, penetrated Suzaku's riot armor, causing the Japanese teen to feel a brief flash of pain before everything faded to black...

"I hate to do this boy...it looks like you're only student that got caught up in all this...but my orders are to kill anyone who's seen this." the bastard told him, aiming his gun right at Lelouch's head.

Then, for no reason Lelouch could discern, the truck exploded, causing a tremor that brought the ceiling in between the exiled prince and the soldiers down. In confusion Lelouch pulled the girl up, tugging her along as he fled down the tunnel.

"I shouldn't have borrowed Altria for Triton in his attack for military base." Lelouch thought. But idea of taking experimental units in base and having Altria pilot one was big temptation so she went with Funeral Parlor. "Why it had to be today?"

Roberta ne Britannia stood in the Command Centre of a huge purple vehicle known as the G-1 Base as it rolled its way into the Shinjuku Ghetto. She was currently standing at the left hand window watching a plume of smoke rise from somewhere not all that far from their location. Behind her, General Bartley Asprius and a few of Prince Clovis's advisors stood congregating round a rectangular table with a 3-D map of the entire area on the top. Prince Clovis sat behind Bartley looking nervously over at Roberta. Why did this woman have to come along with him? Sure, it was her project that the terrorists had stolen, but Clovis did not see the reason why she should be here. In all honesty, he would have preferred if she had stayed back at the Viceroy Palace or Government Bureau Building as it was commonly known as to the people. He absolutely despised and loathed this woman with a passion. He was nothing more than Roberta's puppet and it disgusted him to no end. This woman had a hold over him.

Though she had never openly threatened him in the past, Clovis knew that Roberta had him eating out of the palm of her hand. He was not much of a leader and Roberta used this to her advantage, getting him to do things her way, which meant oppression the "Eleven" population. Clovis guessed that she was trying to get him to provoke a rebellion in order to find the perfect excuse to kill as many of them off as she possibly could. However, he could not bring himself to stand up to her as he knew she could easily ruin him and damage his reputation among the Britannian population to the point where they would undoubtedly demand his resignation as Viceroy of "Area Eleven" and his disinheritance and that thought terrified him greatly.

"They got away," Bartley's voice came in an outraged tone, bringing him back to reality as he remembered that the leader of his Royal Guard had been reporting in, "And you call yourselves the Royal Guard?"

"Uh, forgive me my Lord," the leader's voice came over the communicator in an apologetic tone, "The blast was mainly directed upwards, but…"

"Why the hell do you think I only told you people about this?" Bartley demanded furiously, clearly not happy about the situation seeing that the target had been discovered and had somehow managed to escape.

"W-we'll continue the investigation," the Royal Guard leader said through the communicator.

"Hold on there," Roberta said as she turned round, "Just what exactly happened?"

"Well m-my L-L-Lady, we found the target, but unfortunately the soldier who discovered it had seen the target; that is, the real target and it turned out that a Britannian schoolboy was there as well, obviously having somehow gotten caught up in this mess," the leader explained, "I don't know how though, but he was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time. I heard reports that the truck transporting the target had crashed. Perhaps the student had gone to help them and be a streak of bad luck ended up with the terrorists."

Roberta sighed, shaking her head.

"Boy oh boy, a Britannian's involved now?" she said quietly with a sigh, "What is the world coming to?"

"We were going to eliminate him, but in the confusion caused by the blast, he made off with the target," the leader said.

"I see," Roberta said in a serious tone, "And what of the soldier who discovered it?"

"Dead ma'am," the leader replied simply, "He was an Honorary Britannian, Suzaku Kururugi. The search squad was up of Honorary Britannians in case something like this had happened."

"Excellent," Roberta replied as the edges of her lips twisted into a sadistic grin, "Anyway, that does not change the fact that you allowed the student to make off with the target. I want you to find and retrieve the target and kill the student along with any Elevens you happen to see."

"Understood my Lady," the leader said.

Clovis paled at hearing this. Roberta was willing to order the death of an unlucky innocent just to keep the project quiet. However, he kept his mouth shut.

"The plan has moved forward to the next phase," she said.

"B-but my Lady," Bartley protested with a shocked look on his face.

"Lady Roberta, I really must protest," Clovis said with a fearful tone.

"And you seem to forget that if knowledge of this project gets out, you'll be the one who'll be getting the blame," Roberta replied with an evil smirk on her face as she had been clearly prepared for Clovis's attempt to assert himself, "You'll be disinherited."

That worked as Clovis found his knees shaking with fear and his legs felt like jelly, causing him to wobble and fall back onto his throne with a look of defeat as he let out a sigh. Roberta had talked him into providing funds for her project and he knew that if news got out, he would be seen as an accomplice and with Roberta… if what she had just told him was anything to go by, she would manipulate the evidence and the media to ensure that he ended up getting the full blame while she escaped unscathed

"Very well," he said quietly before his face adorned a serious expression as he moved to stand up, "Tell them back home that we're carrying out a planned urban renewal here."

He then walked towards the steps that led down to where Bartley and the others were.

"As Clovis, Third Prince of the Empire, I command you," he went on with a serious look, "Destroy Shinjuku Ghetto; leave no one alive."

He held his hand out towards the table as if to emphasize his point as Roberta smirked.

"Excellent," she thought to herself, "All is going according to plan. No doubt when news of this spreads, it'll provoke Elevens everywhere to rebel against the Empire and when that happens, I'll have every single one of them wiped off the face of the Gaia. Mark my words you disgusting monkeys, you all will cease to exist."

Clovis went back to his throne and sat down, placing his face in his hands with his elbows resting on his thighs. She had been planning on having the entire ghetto wiped out all along. It did not matter to her whether they had the target or not. She was using this whole affair as an excuse kill off as many "Elevens" as she could. That Britannian student who made off with the target must have been a godsend for her, as it had given her the excuse to have the entire ghetto massacred, though he suspected that she would have found some way to lay waste to the entire ghetto anyway, even if the retrieval of the target had been successful.

"Also, I would like cameras to be sent out so I can bare witness to this spectacle," Roberta said to the advisors in a commanding tone, which caused Clovis to shiver in fear.

Meanwhile, Sutherland Knightmare Frames started pouring out of the G-1 Base as they started demolishing buildings and shooting at the residents with their assault rifles and other weaponry. The residents all screamed and tried to run for their lives, only to discover that it was useless as bullets pierced their bodies and they dropped to the ground like stones; men, women and children alike.

One elderly couple were in the process of gathering their things so they could evacuate their apartment. The man looked out the window in disbelief as he saw Hammerhead gunships pass by and shooting down at the people as they futilely tried to flee the onslaught.

"W-why are they doing this?" he asked in disbelief.

"Dear, let's go," the man's wife said in a panicked tone, clutching a bag in her arms.

They both then quickly made their way to the door.

"Uh, hurry," the man said in fright.

However, as soon as they opened the door, they were met with gunfire and their blood splattered against the wall and window opposite the door with some even landing on a table.

Two soldiers entered the room, searching for more people with their guns at the ready.

"Okay, let's sweep the next floor," one said upon seeing that there was no one else in the room.

Elsewhere, GDI's Predator tanks and Sutherlands were firing off shells into the ghetto at the buildings, as they had been ordered to destroy the entire ghetto.

"The enemy is garbage that could never hope to become even Honorary Britannians," one of the commanders said over the communicators, "Wipe out every last one of them."

One Sutherland stepped in behind another that was firing off a giant Knightmare-sized bazooka known as a giant cannon.

Back in the G-1 Base, Bartley and the advisors were watching the progress on the 3-D map and Roberta watched the monitor in front of the table as it showed split-screen images of the massacre. Seeing the people helpless and being shot to pieces was something she found thrilling. The screams of helplessness and fear and knowing that nothing would help them was like music to her ears. She absolutely detested the "Elevens" and would settle for nothing less than seeing every last one of them wiped off the face of the Earth.

Unbeknownst to everyone else in the room, Roberta had intentionally lessened security around her project, knowing that terrorists would steal it under the mistaken assumption that it was poison gas. She had been the one that had provided them with the intelligence in the first place; a new kind of experimental poison gas and now her plan was coming together. This had been what she had hoped for; that the terrorists would make it into the ghetto, giving her the excuse to have it completely wiped off the map. The fact that the boy had gotten away was just a bonus for her, though she did not expect a Britannian student to get caught up in it, but still, the life of one Britannian did not matter to her compared to her plan to eradicate the "Elevens". No one in the room knew that she would have ordered the destruction of the Shinjuku Ghetto anyway and Clovis would be the one to shoulder the blame… all part of her plan, which she had dubbed, "Operation: Eleven Genocide".

Watching the massacre unfold before her eyes brought a smile to her face, even seeing a child who had fallen in an attempt to escape and struggle to get up only to by shot to pieces by a Sutherland's assault rifle was rather invigorating to her. She started chuckling to herself, causing everyone else present to stare at her nervously with a hint of fear hidden in their eyes; fear which was well founded as her chuckling escalated quickly into full-blown psychotic maniacal laughter.

"Yes, that's it," she said in a psychotic tone, "Kill them all, murder them, butcher them, mutilate them. Don't stop until they're all dead. I want to see a bloodbath."

Bartley and the rest of the advisors all backed away from Roberta staring at her fearfully as if she was some kind of monster. This woman was clearly insane.

Clovis watched the scenes of the massacre as his face became pure white with horror as he listened to Roberta's insane laughter. Apparently, his thoughts were the same as his advisors. Roberta was clearly insane and never before had Clovis been more afraid of anyone in his entire life. He somehow knew that if he did move to call of this senseless slaughter, Rocberta would probably kill him. He knew Roberta had a bit of a reputation that even made the Knight of Ten, Luciano Bradley, the "Vampire of Britannia" and self-proclaimed homicidal genius because of his known bloodlust and tendencies to kill even his own allies tremble in fear, but he never imagined that it was this bad. He considered himself glad that Roberta had his back to him because he did not want to see the psychotic expression that he believed adorned her face at the moment. Her laughter and glee at what was happening was terrifying enough.

After about half an hour of running, the Lelouch came to an exit. Peeking above the ground, he saw the same group of soldiers, standing before a literal pile of corpses, all Japanese.

"Are you sure that exit came out here?" The commander snapped, glaring at one of his subordinates.

"Y-yes sir. It matches up with the old city maps perfectly."

"Feh. They must have-" At that moment, Lelouch's cell phone rang. Cursing, he switched it off.

At the entrace of Ashford Academy, a blonde-haired girl blinked incredulously at her cell phone.

"Damn that Lulu! He hung up on me!" Millicent 'Milly' Ashford swore, completely unaware of what she had just done.

"Not there," Lloyd Asplund said in a disappointed tone from outside his vehicle, the Special Research Division Transport, which was situated right next to the G-1 Base.

"It looks like he's gone to the front line," Cecile explained simply.

"Even though we brought the Lancelot here?" Lloyd went on, still sounding disappointed and a bit furious. Lying at the back of the vehicle, which was a transporter of some kind was a huge gurney draped in a black tarpaulin cloth with a pair of metal white feet with gold at the bottom sticking out.

"Now what'll we do?" Cecile asked curiously.

"We steamrolled our way in here, but we don't have a devicer to use it," Lloyd replied, still disappointed as he held up a Knightmare-activation key in front of himself.

Cecile sighed as Lloyd continued to look disappointed. He had been hoping to use this opportunity to test of his latest creation, the Lancelot, a prototype Knightmare Frame for the seventh generation mass production models along with its brother-unit Arthur which was still under development in Military Command Base. Unfortunately the "devicer" that had been chosen had already gone to the front line deciding that he was more comfortable with a regular Sutherland, or at least that's how Lloyd saw it. Of course when he spoke with Bartley, he knew that he had been lying about what it was the terrorists had stolen and was probably paranoid that he was trying to get his hands on it, but in truth, Lloyd did not care much for whatever it was the terrorists had stolen. Let Bartley keep his secrets. The data he was after was battle data for the Lancelot, so he could discover how well it functioned in combat and what potential weaknesses it had so he could eliminate them. Rowan was pretty much same with Foundations experimental sonic emitter weapon, which is usually used to vaporize Ayersium and which was placed in Lancelot to test its usage in military purpose.

"Huh," Rowan said suddenly, noticing two soldiers hauling a third one out from underground on a stretcher, "What have we here? Do I spot a potential devicer in our midst?"

Cecile just rolled her eyes as she shook her head. In her opinion, this Lloyd was a bit of a child and obviously had a few screws lose in his head and Rowan wasn't much better. She had to put up with his childish behavior day in and day out and he would often throw childish tantrums whenever one of his inventions did not work the way he wanted it to. Like Bartley, Cecile had to wonder if Lloyd enjoyed getting under people's skin as he seemed to do that an awful lot with the leaders of the other factions within Britannia and from the looks of it; he was not even trying, though it did seem to excite him. Cecile often wondered how he had not driven her to insanity yet. He regarded those who tested his inventions in the past as part of the inventions themselves and not people. To him, a person operating his invention was part of it and would not allow anyone else other than that person to operate his invention and he hated it whenever he was forced to do so. Cecile often felt like hitting him over the head whenever he got like that.

"Good," Lloyd's voice came, bringing her back to reality, "I'll take it, how much?"

Cecile noticed that he had already walked over to the two soldiers handling their injured colleague and looked at the injured soldier as if he were a product sitting on a supermarket self.

The soldier himself was a Japanese teenager with messy brown hair and green eyes.

"But Lloyd, Rowan, he's an Honorary Britannian," Cecile said with a hint of worry in her voice.

In truth she did not mind the "Elevens", regardless of whether they had Honorary status or not and she was sure that this boy was a fairly decent and respected young man, but she was more concerned about the potential repercussions from Lloyd's decision; especially if this Honorary Britannian proved himself indeed worthy to pilot the Lancelot since she knew that many Britannians hated non-Britannians who were just as good as, if not better than they were.

"Yes, I can clearly see that, I'm not blind you know," Rowan replied, giving his co-worker a questioning look, "Your point?"

"He was born an Eleven and you know how the military are about letting them near Knightmares," Cecile replied, giving the soldier a concerned look.

"I honestly don't care much for the military and their rules," Lloyd replied with a shrug, "Those pompous self-opinionated bigots at the top seem to believe that Britannians are the only ones with talent and can't stand it when they're proven wrong. I say that you should salvage good talent wherever you can find it, whether it's Britannian or not. The main reason why Honorary Britannians aren't allowed to pilot Knightmares in my opinion is because of those assholes at the top being afraid that they'll prove them wrong and upset their status-quo on non-Britannians."

"Well said," Cecile thought with a rare, but brief genuine smile, glad that she and Lloyd were in agreement over something.

"As for our situation here, we need a devicer for the Lancelot and if the higher-ups don't like my choice of pilot then I only have two words for them," Lloyd went on, feeling that he was on a roll, "And those two words are, "Piss off"."

Cecile giggled at Lloyd's attitude while Rowan shook his head and knowing Lloyd, that was not just an empty promise. He was no doubt foolish enough to actually stand up to them and say that. It would definitely be a shock to say the least. She could just picture the looks on the faces of the said higher-ups if Lloyd actually went through with it.

The boy grunted as the soldiers shoved him against the back wall, the strange woman encircled by other soldiers.

"Well, I must commend you for making it this far. But, you are Britannian, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised." The commander grinned. "Unfortunately, your life are now forfeit." Lelouch glared hatefully at him. When the Royal Guard lifted his handgun at him, Lelouch closed his eyes. All of a sudden, the woman ran in front of him, shouting:

"Don't kill him!" The pistols shot sounded like the blast of a cannon, the bullet shooting straight in the center of her forehead, dropping her down to the ground.

"Y-You shot her," Lelouch said in disbelief with a surprised look of disbelief to accompany his tone.

"Lady Roberta's orders were to bring her back alive if possible," the General said; his tone rather uncaring and indifferent, "Oh well, nothing can be done about it now. We'll tell our superiors that the Royal Guard found the terrorist hideout and killed them all. Regrettably the hostages, being her and you had already been tortured to death. What do you think schoolboy? That would be an enlightening scenario to tell your family, wouldn't it? After all, it was only by your own bad luck that you got caught up in all this. Unfortunately, you've seen too much and pose a threat to Lady Roberta, who by the way was the one who ordered us to kill you."

"Lady Roberta…?" Lelouch asked, "As in the Imperial Consort to Charles zi Britannia, Roberta ne Britannia?"

"Yes, what of it?" the General asked, finding Lelouch's curiosity intriguing and decided there was no harm in telling him since he would dead soon anyway.

"Isn't Prince Clovis the acting Viceroy of Area Eleven?" Lelouch, repressing the urge to spit out venom as he spoke the words, "Area Eleven", as in his view, the country was still Japan.

"Ha, he's Viceroy in name only," the General scoffed uncaringly, "Roberta ne Britannia holds the true power here and this is all part of her grand master plan."

"Grand master plan, just what's she planning?" Lelouch asked with hatred in his voice as he was coming to understand what was really going on.

"Operation: Eleven Genocide," the General replied with a smirk, "It was her who gave the terrorists intelligence leading them to believe that they were after poison gas. The terrorists would lead us right to a ghetto where Lady Roberta could start a massacre under the guise of a cover up, which in turn would hopefully provoke Elevens everywhere to rebel, giving her an excuse to wipe them all out and the thing is, if the truth of the girl is uncovered, Prince Clovis would get the blame while Lady Roberta gets off scot-free since His Highness did provide funding for the project, though he doesn't know exactly what it is he's been funding."

"Why doesn't that fool of a Prince stop the massacre?" Lelouch asked with gritted teeth.

"Prince Clovis doesn't care much and he fears her too much," the General scoffed with a laugh, "She could potentially ruin him you know. It's because of her that he's remained Viceroy for as long as he has, but he's expendable. If anything goes wrong, she could easily have him replaced with someone loyal to her and who will obey her without question. Now then, I believe that's enough talk. Time for you to meet your end schoolboy."

Lelouch looked down at the girl's dead body as he contemplated his situation. Lelouch dropped down next to the woman, who was certainly dead. Reaching for her hand, he thought: "Is this how I'm going to die? Helplessly without being able to fulfill my promises." A vision of his sister, Altria and his closest supporters in Neon Avalon appeared in his mind.

All of a sudden, the woman's hand reached for his, grabbing his wrist. Lelouch was thrown into a mental storm, hearing thoughts.

"Hmmm. Interesting. I have only heard rumors about legendary Staff of Aegis and now its holder is before me. You don't want it to end do you?"

"What's this?"

"It seems you have a reason to live."

"That girl? Impossible! She was shot in the head!"

"If you had the strength, you could live. This is our contract, made between us two: In return for my gifts of power, you must grant one wish of mine."

A vision of two planetary objects appeared in their minds.

"If you enter this contract, you will live as humans, but also as completely different existences. Different rules, Different time, Different lives... The power of kings will make you lonely indeed. If you are prepared for that then..."

Out of nowhere, a vision of a man with coiled hair appeared, saying: "We will join with the Ragnarok! The legend begins again!"

"So this is geass that Altria told me about. It sounds interesting and since I already have power of its opposite… I think I watch where this goes.

Very well. I hereby enter this contract!" Lelouch said harshly.

Back in the material world, the woman's hand dropped back to the cold ground, as the boy leaned slightly forward, before Lelouch stood up his hand covering his right eye.

"Hey, how should I live, as Britannian who hates Britannia?" The commander scoffed.

"You some kinda philosopher?" grinning, he nodded to one of his men. The soldier smiled, raising his rifle. Suddenly they hesitated, realizing that something was off.

"What?" Lelouch chuckled. "Can't shoot me yourself? You're up against student. Or have you finally learned that only those willing to be shot can shoot others?" taking away his hand, he revealed his left eye, which glowed red with the image of a V-like sigil, like how a child would draw cranes viewed from a distance.

"Lelouch vi Avalon-Britannia commands you: All of you, die!" The commander took an involuntary step backwards, before stopping and giggling madly, his eye rimmed in red.

"Yes, your highness!" Grinning madly, he and all his subordinates pressed their guns to their head, pulling the triggers. Blood from a nearby soldier splatted on Lelouch, causing Lelouch to look fearfully on the bloody scene.

Sayoko was cleaning Lelouch's room without noticing that glow of staff of aegis had changed. It noticed its' opposites power in its' master and that had caused new kind of reaction in it.

"What is happening? What staff was doing? What is going to happen for 'Eleven Genocide' and terrorists? Do people of Shinjuku ghetto have any hope? How will geass change anything?"

"That shall be found out next evening. Good night honey."

To be continued

Author notes:

First chapter might've been little rushed, but I needed to do little background writing. Altria, staff of aegis, Nunnally's return, birth of Neon Avalon and others couldn't just pop up from somewhere. This story follows same spirit as Naruto story The Raikage from Aragon Potter and other similar stories. Starting now this story follows original Code geass with some extra twists from me.

I am not great with making originals because I like make things I want say short. My specialty is taking pieces from many stories and place them in one story. My stories are like human body; I have skeleton, but there is no meat around bones. That is why I have to take things from others although I know that result is Frankenstein's monster.

I like immensely stories where concept of evil darkness and good light is twisted upside down. This story will follow that desire of mine.

When you review you can ask where I took some characters of mine. Also I would like to tell for advance that Suzaku will NOT be paired with Euphemia or Nunnally. It goes too well with virtuous knight and pure princess style in fairy tales and I want some variety. There has been TOO MANY Euphemia/Suzaku or Nunnally/Suzaku romances. Review if you have suggestions for pairings and tell me name of good stories where Suzaku isn't paired with Euphemia or Nunnally while they are still alive and Suzaku isn't gay.

After this I will update my Angelkunoichis and after it comes Stars. Lets see what happens after those.

I am pretty surprised for lack of Code geass/Guilty crown and Code geass/S-cry-ed crossovers since there are so much similarities between them.

Please read and review!