Author's Note: I wanted to apologize again for being late but I really have no valid excuse to offer except for my laziness. And the laziness derived from my optimism (since the first half of this chapter was written together with Chapter Four.) But that had not been the case…:P Once again, my sincerest appreciations to rawrchelle and Rogue12158 for their editing efforts bring this chapter possible. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass in any way or form.
Recommend: For best viewing pleasure, set you width to ½.
Chapter 5
They stopped in front of a crumbled, splintered wooden door. Lights of various shades pierced through the cracks, like fangs of a menacing beast.
"We're here," the Curator stated flatly.
However, Lelouch's attention was not at the gateway, but a small gathering of paintings at the nearby porch.
"Why are these here?" Lelouch pointed, incredulous.
"These are the moments she cherished," the Curator said simply, as if it explained everything.
"So few…" he whispered, looking back at the tiny conclave. Of the all the moments in her existence, only eight were considered to be her happy ones. Unlike before, he deliberately bypassed the retrieval process, hoping to spare her the privacy. To his bewilderment, he was disheartened that his was not one of…
"You were here too," the Curator said offhandedly, as an afterthought, she pointed to the middle of the vacant spot. "She took you with her."
Lelouch gazed at the empty space where she was pointing for a long moment, blinked once, twice, reeled his body around and headed purposely toward the jarring door, while rambling something indistinct under his breath.
"You can't bring her back, not even for a Code Bearer," she frowned. "She had banished herself; it was not her desire to linger any longer."
Lelouch paused in his tracks, hand on the stile.
"If that was the case, at least I can keep her company." He then pushed the door open and disappeared through the brilliant ray of lights.
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The light was so blinding that he walked through the threshold with his eyes closed. By the time he emerged from the other side, it was so dark that he couldn't even see his extended hand that was trying to break his fall when his feet stepped on thin air and his body pitched forward. But instead of falling like a rock and hit something hard, he felt a slow, nauseating sensation, as he body tumbled sluggishly in pitch darkness.
He should be scared, confused, and maybe even frightful at this turn of events. But he didn't feel any of that. A strange, yet familiar presence was here the entire time, scrutinized him, gauging his response.
Lelouch stayed his tongue and waited.
"Now that you have the greatest gift that all mortals seek, why not exercise it to your advantage and realize your dreams?" His father's voice rumbled in the shadow.
Without thinking, Lelouch responded in a calm, even tone. "What does my dream matter if all immortality would grant me in the end were but pain and sufferings?"
"She has atoned for her sins, perhaps it is time that you repent for yours?" His mother's voice whirled through the dusk.
"C.C. bared the sins from humanity's ignorance. I bare mine through Britannia's self-indulgence. If we are to be condemned for our sins, when does mankind suffer for theirs?" Lelouch challenged.
"One way or another, we all have to face our providence." C.C. or – was it the Curator's – toneless voice poised before him in a silhouette.
Lelouch stared at it for a long moment, and his eyes narrowed. "You mean your providence, Lelouch? Lelouch vi Britannia."
He saw himself emerge from the glowing shadow, in his golden trimmed Imperial wardrobe, gawking equally back at him.
"It must be done, Lelouch Lamperouge. Have you forgotten what happened to Okaa-sama? Did you not remember the vow that you made to Nunnally?" the Emperor Lelouch demanded. He was astounded by the intensity of the hatred in the eyes, never did he noticed the revulsion and the loathing laced in between.
"You must make a choice, Lelouch Lamperouge. Together we shall craft the new world that we promised to Nunnally so many years ago. The power and the immorality that we possessed will ensure that we shape a world fitting only for Nunnally. Our ascendancy is poised for millenniums to come," the Emperor concluded with conviction, his tightening fist emphasized his position.
"What about C-Two? She has sacrificed so much and for so long-"
"The Grey Witch deserved her place to be," the Emperor cut him off; "she simply wanted to keep the Code all to herself."
Lelouch closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "And you sound just like father," he murmured. When he opened his eyes again, it was filled with a quiet rage and determination.
"I will continue our vow that we made for Nunnally. You on the other hand, "he paused, "shall remain here and guard my memories," Lelouch seethed through gritted teeth, "for millenniums to come."
"NO! You cannot do this! I am the rightful master of the Code! You-" The Emperor's furious shout had turned into a distant echo, the glowing shadow where the man used to be had manifested into a shade of grey…
And there she was, her green tresses splayed across her slender shoulders, with her back to him, cuddling within herself. The thought of her spending eternity alone within this confinement caused his nose to sting and his eyes burned.
"C-Two…" Lelouch called out to her hoarsely.
The green haired beauty stayed motionless at first but moved and sank even more into herself, oblivious to his calling.
Lelouch didn't think he could call her again without breaking down. So he did the only thing he could – by moving up behind her and embraced her full, inhaled deeply through her locks, whispering her name.
C.C. finally turned to him, her unfocused eyes met his sluggishly but it soon gained clarity and recognition. Just when Lelouch thought she was turning around to embrace him back, she shoved him hard; caused him to stumble back, almost falling on his buttocks.
Confused, Lelouch uttered, "What-"
"What have you done!?" C.C. screamed at him. Her golden orbs were set ablaze, turning into almost bronze in color. Lelouch was taken aback by her outburst, but most of all he was stunned by her fury, so angry, so furious, and so beautiful.
"I did everything I possibly can just so you don't walk down the same path. Why are you even here!?" she demanded angrily.
"I-"
CRACK.
His words were ripped apart by C.C.'s palm whacked across his left cheek, throwing his head to the side.
"This is not supposed to happen!" she shouted. "I am supposed to be here all by myself." Her voice cracked. "I am destined to be alone…" She trailed off, and wept silently before him.
The sting on his cheek was still hot, but the flash of anger had diminished. Lelouch moved closer and place a hand on her quivering shoulder but she shoved it aside in an instant and twisted away from him.
"C-Two," he tried again, this time a little more forceful, "you don't have to carry on alone any longer."
C.C. turned around then, her shuddering ceased, for a brief moment, Lelouch thought she would simply run away. She slowly looked up to him, tears still running down her cheeks. Lelouch moved to place both hands on her shoulders.
"You are not alone anymore," Lelouch whispered.
"No…" C.C. struggled to push him off, but he tightened his hold on her more.
"I know what you are trying to do, but I will be -"
"Don't!" she shrieked, her irises narrowed in alarm. "Please don't say it, please…please, don't…" C.C. pleaded, her head declined as tears flew anew.
"C-Two…"
"Everyone who had ever said it to me is dead! Every one of them!" she cried. Her hands now balled at the hens of his uniform. "How can you be different…I don't want to lose you again…" Lelouch barely caught the end of her whispers. She refused to look him in the eyes.
Lelouch raised his arms and engulfed his palms over her shaking ones.
"Because I AM different," Lelouch intoned soft and assertively. He unbutton his uniform collars with one hand, while the other cupped her puffy, sweet face with another, waiting, until she was looking up at him, at the faint Geass Sigil. With the realization set in.
C.C. raised her shaky hands and started to unclasp more buttons, the act itself was both alluring and seductive. She traced the sigil gently.
"This is V.V.'s code…" She looked up at him in awe. "Charles gave it to you."
Lelouch reached for her hand still hovering between them.
"I am different from those men because I am the Demon King, the one who was worthy for the Witch." The current shot through from his squeezed hand electrified her senses. All he saw in the Memory Museum and what he had done flashed before her mind's eye.
In her mindless distress, she had failed to realize his pre-requisite appearance in the Void. Their affectionate touch conveyed a sense of assurance that a thousand words cannot express. Their thoughts mingled through their conjoined hands, their feelings entwined with their affections, and their bond transcended beyond mere mortal and united as one.
***
C.C.'s lips trembled and the vision of this beautiful man blurred. For as long as she could remember, no one had ever figured it out but him.
He was the first recipient of Geass who thanked her for saving him. He was also the only one who professed his devotion to be with her by becoming her match. And with her unexpected pregnancy, and the ordeals that they went through, he had become just like what he had promised.
***
A sob escaped her throat without her consent and before she could stop herself she flung bodily into his open arms as she cried broken into his gentle kisses and murmuring comfort. He had finally realized her true wish. She had finally found her equal that will be with her through eternity.
When she had finally calmed down enough, she was being cradled in his lap while her hand rubbed absently at the fabric of his uniform.
Lelouch inhaled her scent deeply, took pleasure in the closeness, and something clicked in his mind, recalling one of the passage from a painting that he saw back in the Memory Museum.
"Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime; therefore, we are saved by hope," he recited from memory slowly.
"Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we are saved by faith." He peered down as she was looking up and their eyes held each other in place. "Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love." He waited.
"No virtuous act is quite a virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own," C.C. continued for him in a coarse voice, "Therefore; we are saved by the final form of love - forgiveness." Tears welled in her eyes, "Reinhold Niebuhr." A stray tear escaped her lashes.
"Exactly." Lelouch wiped off the trail of tears with his palm, looking down at her puffy, teary, and endearing face. He pulled her back in a fierce embrace.
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Lelouch chucked despite the moment.
"What?" she rasped through her tears, tears of contentment.
"Who would've thought? I am holding Joan of Arc in my lap."
And that earned him a smack on the shoulder.
"Mankind does not deserve your love, and yet you gave it willingly." C.C. heard his words rumble in his chest. "So what does that make you?" The hint of mockery didn't escape her notice.
"Smartass." A tiny smile graced her lips.
The gentle hand that was caressing her hair suddenly stopped in mid stride. Through his tear drenched shirt she could feel his heart gather speed and his breath quicken.
"C-Two…" Lelouch hesitated. "About…the baby, eh…our child…" Lelouch struggled, searching for the proper words.
C.C. leaned back and met his eyes unblinkingly. "You didn't need the distraction. And I didn't know what to do; it did not create too much inconvenience," she stated matter-of-factly.
Lelouch gaped at her, exasperated. "It's OUR child that-"
"So was Zero Requiem," she said unyieldingly. "It was the most important thing to you at the time."
"C-Two…" He trailed off; his iris glinted into many shades of violets. He had nothing to counter that. He was so obsessed with Zero Requiem, so infatuated with the whole concept of creating a new world through his heroic sacrifice, he failed, no, he refused to spare anything for anyone. The whole farce was all about his selfish deliverance.
"Yes, it was," he conceded, and her eyes widened slightly at his own admission. "I was faithless and self serving-"
"But I'll forgive you."
Lelouch couldn't help but smile. All his self-loathing went away like a puff of smoke.
"In return," C.C. grinned back, "you will enter into another contract with me."
He snorted with good humor, "And what might that be?"
"The day that you grow bore of me, you will tell me," she said in a timid voice, her feature fell.
Lelouch shifted his left hand down to her hips and seal the deal with a kiss. It soon progressed into a full fledge tug of war between lips and tongues. When they were finally force to come up for breath, Lelouch asked breathlessly, "Was that good enough answer for you?"
"That will suffice," she replied, equally breathless, as she rested her head over his heart, rejoicing at the sound of his palpitating heartbeat, "for the time being."
Lelouch let loose a blissful chuckle, only this woman had the capacity to make him laugh this way.
"Now if that was the case," she looked up to him with a wan smile, "in order to keep your vow, you have to come and rescue me," the teasing gleam returned to her beautiful golden orbs, "my dark knight."
Lelouch turned to disengage from their embrace, but C.C. kept him in place.
"The painting-"
"Is not important anymore." C.C. grinned fondly at him. "You are with me now," she placed two fingers on his cheeks. "We have plenty of times to make new ones."
It took a moment for the implication to sink in, but in the end Lelouch smiled back at her. "I suppose you're right on that," and leaned down to place a chesty peck on her luscious lips.
"How do we leave this place?" Lelouch looked around the now bothersome greyness.
"You still have much to learn," C.C. wriggled his nose playfully, "as a Code Bearer, Boya."
Lelouch huffed at that, but before he could utter another word, C.C.'s green mane fluttered, revealed her illuminating sigil.
He still had more questions for her, but a sudden, scorching sensation suffocated his lungs and then they were engulfed by a light that was brighter than a thousand stars.
********
"Sir! The Demon is on the move!" a Lieutenant shouted with haste. "Without provocation, sir," she added.
General Manser looked up sharply from the repair estimate and so did everyone else in Combat Information Center. All the chatters died off like a flip of a switch, everyone's eyes fell on the General.
"What direction is it heading to?" Manser inquired in a carefully maintained, calm manner.
Then it just occurred to the general that no matter what direction it is moving, they are helpless to stop it. With all available weapons that he had at his disposal, after almost two platoons worth of slaughtered soldiers, he gave the order to avoid engaging the creature now they dubbed "the Demon."
After viewing the fuzzy and disoriented combat footage from the platoon that was annihilated by the Demon, he made for the site and up until now, he still couldn't believe that anything thing could have survived that single engagement.
Missiles designed to knock out Battle Frame were scoring multiple hits and yet the fragment ricocheting harmlessly against the vile creature. He saw broken fragments; some went as far as three sections away through the armor plated walls, lodged hideously in between the molten metal. He saw soldiers expended entire belt of armor piercing munitions into the thing and it simply kept on coming, retaliating any oncoming attack, with that ghostly, sinister looking cloud surrounding him, obliterating anything in its path.
They've only learned its reactionary tendency and partiality for not killing female soldiers when the third platoon failed to launch its attack against the creature. No, the general corrected himself, the attack didn't fail to launch, the Lieutenant, Sergeants, Corporals, Privates in the platoon simply decided to be human, not to be slaughter senselessly in face of such monstrosity. The walls that were spewed in blood, what were left of human remains littered the corridors and the survivors that stared thousand yards were the testament of the unimaginable horror.
Already, reports of mass desertion were been observed across the ranks. To circumvent the further deteriorating in the already fragile chain of command, he made standing order not to engage the Demon under any circumstance. He sighed inwardly, even he was coming under the influence, already, he had refused two requests for reinforcement from Lord Schneizel himself, knowing exactly what his men would be used for.
"It's heading toward the lift…" The Lieutenant replied, still listening intently into her earpiece.
"…but the lifts are not operational…" Someone whispered in the back.
"It is trying to get to the upper decks," Manser thought out loud. He turned, but before he could issue his command-
"Sir!" the same Lieutenant exclaimed, "It had just entered the lift…and it's going up through the shaft."
"What is up there for him?" A captain looked perplex.
"His queen," Manser answered, acknowledged the Demon King for the first time, his eyes widened at the realization and then it hit him, "he is going after the Grey Witch."
"Alert all command," he snapped, a hint of panic crept into his voice, "evacuate the upper decks." The general wondered if the fear that he saw in their eyes did not already reflected his own. With the savageness that had been demonstrated so far, he simply could not fathom the fate of those up there. He admitted, If someone was to kidnap my wife and children, what would I have done to those responsible?
********
It was pure chaos.
Nicholas knew that the army lacked the training and the discipline in comparison to his crack SAS, but to witnessed the men and the woman that the Empire relied on to defend against its enemies been degraded to terrifying mob was something else entirely.
They ran by in cohorts, some even weaponless, with the wounded and the injured amongst their ranks, down the only usable staircase to the lower levels. More than one tripped or stumbled, causing a cascade of falling bodies, but was quickly picked up or carried on, accompanied by the expected curse and screaming.
The SAS watched on with un-accusing eyes. The horrifying combat footage had been circulating unofficially ever since its recovery. The terror itself spread like a deadly pandemic. The potency grew exponentially as it traveled further away from the host. The numbers of body count and the furiousness of the slaughter staggered from mouth to mouth. Each added just a tad more body and a bit gorier. The fear for the Demon King, not until much later, turned out to be both the Empire's curse and blessing.
Nicolas looked down at the assault rifle slung across his chest; his thumb traced the outline of the safety, knowing the weapon would be utterly useless against the Demon King. The lone, fuzzy figure of a soldier who struggled up from the pile of corpses that once were his comrades, shouldered a anti-Frame missile launcher and fired at the back of Demon's King's head. The room his was in erupted in euphoria of shouts and cheers as the creature and the brave man disappeared in a flash of explosion and dusts. But the celebration was short lived. The resulting silence took smiles and grins from everyone present as a lone figure emerged from the smoldering flames, the two bright red eyes doused any hope of its demise and served as a silent reminder of more onslaughts to come.
The message was clear.
Don't stand in its way it if you wanted to see another sunrise.
And this couldn't come at a better time. Moments after they reached the infirmary with the survivors from the Hell down below, Nance pulled him to the side and pointed to his earpiece as he shielded him from the on lookers.
"-town calling Fatso, come in, over." Nicolas's earpiece crackled to life.
"Ghost Town calling Casper, what is your status, over?" the same voice repeated.
"Ghost Town, this is Casper," Nicolas hushed into his mouthpiece, covered by both hands. Ghost Town is his Squadron call sign; orders from SAS override all other command authorities.
"I have regrouped with Fatso and suffered casualties, combat effectiveness at seven-," He stopped short. "Sixty percent, request instruction, over." Nicolas peered over his shoulder, making sure that they did not draw any unwanted attention and waited.
"Casper, what is the status of the landing platforms?"
"Primary landing platform inoperable," Nicolas rubbed at his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the horrid scenes replaying again in his mind.
"Will be in secondary landing platform in-," he flipped his wrist, "-five minutes, over."
"Casper, Ghost Town. Report back immediately once the condition of the secondary platform has been ascertain, if possible, deny the platform from…hostile forces, acknowledge." There was a slight hesitation on the latter part and Nicolas understood fully. There is really no way of determining friends or foes in this type of conflict.
He briefly contemplated relaying the information on Demon King but decided against it. Not only would it severely delay his mission, it would serve no purpose at this critical juncture. There were only two possibilities when calling to secure a landing zone: Either they are getting extracted from the sky fortress or assist in capturing it. If it was the latter, he still had a trump card under his sleeve.
And here they are, flights away from their intended objective, forced by the oncoming mob into this small maintenance storage, watching terrifying men and women fleeing for their lives.
Nicolas checked his watch impatiently, it had been over seven minutes since they encountered the human waves and they were out of communication with the Squadron inside the stairwells. They are going to be late…
"Serge?" Nicolas heard shuffles of boots and Stapleton's timid voice.
He winced inwardly, turning slowly to the man he was trying to avoid since the hanger came crashing down over their heads. He wanted to give Stapleton as much time and space as possible to overcome his trauma but he needed all available bodies at his disposal for the mission. He cringed for what he expected to come.
"Serge, I-ah-I fucked up back there in the…hanger," Stapleton said in a small voice, deeply flustered. Nicolas noticed rest of the team all turned the other way, given them the badly needed privacy.
"I've never seen anything quite like it…so I panicked, but I wanted to let you know that-"
Nicolas placed a firm grip on the younger man's shoulder. "Eddie, no instructor or text book can ever prepare you for something even remotely like that," he said gently. "I am glad that you came around so quickly." He gave a light squeeze for emphasis.
"That's right, mate!" Sergeant Ingham chimed in, surprised them both. "Last time it took Bishop days just to come out of his closet."
And that earned nervous chuckles from all and a scold from Nicolas.
"I didn't know you could be a mother hen as well." Ingham elbowed and winked at him when everyone was out of earshot, with Stapleton leading up to the stairs.
"That makes two of us, you old bugger," he shot back, with what looked like a beginning of a smirk.
Ingham laughed out loud and stepped up his pace, as the team weaved through ranks of evacuees.
Maybe there was hope for them after all.
********
Maldini looked down at the headset in disbelief.
He was a man not accustomed to being refused when it came to his whim, but the person on the other end, the commanding officer of the sky fortress had, for the third time, refused his request to send additional combat troops and even now had ordered an evacuation of his units from the executive boat bay.
"General," Maldini gritted his teeth, speaking deliberately into the mouthpiece. "Must I remind you that this order came directly from Lord Schneizel himself? Your blunt refusal is an act of treason against the Empire!"
The silence on the other end was disturbing, just when he thought Manser was not going to answer his accusation, the earpiece cracked to life.
"Treason? Treason you said?" Manser hissed angrily. "For all I know I was fighting against the Emperor himself, and who just might have reincarnated into this…this monstrosity that was slaughtering my men like animals. I have lost a third of my command trying to kill it and now you want me to throw away countless others so you can snare it? We have spilled enough blood for his Lordship-"
"And his Lordship will be the ruler of the Empire!" Maldini cut him off before he could finish, "In the very near future, general."
Manser was not a bit intimidated; he actually scoffed at Lord Schneizel's right-handed man.
"If that was the case Colonel," he was beyond caring, his commission be damned.
"I wish you the best with your operation," without my men, he didn't add. "So that you can court martial me…"
Then he heard it, the faint chatters of automatic fires and the screams of men too scare to fight as soldiers.
Whatever device Maldini wore or held clattered to a hard surface but he could still hear the man's high-pitched cry, "Close the blasted door, close the bloody blasted door!"
A thin smile formed on his lips, but it vanished just as quickly when the Major Tay, his deputy in place of the late Colonel McCree, ran the last bent around the corner.
"Sir!" the man was panting hard, sweat was pouring down on his face.
"You need to see this, sir." He held out a holopad, his voice unsteady.
Manser's brows shot up to his fading hairline.
"Can't you deactivate it?" His eyes didn't move from the pad.
"It was hard coded, sir. Any attempt to disarm it without the proper code may set it off prematurely." The Major shook his head.
"Bloody fagend…" Manser swore under his breath, for all the blood that they bled for Schneizel, they are still nothing but sacrificial lambs…
He staggered over to the nearest chair and landed in a heap, the holopad clattered to the ground, a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him.
"Cut the power to the Officer's Mess," he sighed. "Now our fate is in the hand of the Demon King."
********
Li Xingke gazed at the ailing Damocles on the giant screen aboard the former Imperial flagship Avalon. The once invincible sky fortress was engulfed in a shroud of smoldering smoke within the confinement of its flickering force field.
The right thing to do was to destroy this symbol of repression and dominance when the time came, thus even the playing field for all, but with it…
The slightest pressure on his right digits brought him out of his reverie. He turned and smiled reassuringly at the person of his unyielding loyalty, the Tianzi and squeezed her petite hand in return.
His smile disappeared as soon as he turned to the assembled commanders waiting anxiously on the other side.
"What is available to us?"
Hong Gu step up and out of the pack. "My Lord, we retained roughly fifty-five percent of our original combat strength. The Imperial forces have all but pulled out of the theater, the remaining Black Knight should be easily contested." He eyes stared intently at Li Xingke.
"But we ARE the Black Knights," Zhou Xianglin protested. "Our mission is accomplished; there is no need for more bloodshed."
"But if we manage to capture the Damocles, our position within the UFN will be much more elevated," Hong Gu countered.
"Even if we don't employ that dreaded weapon, the sky fortress will provide us with tremendous bargaining power when negotiation with the Empire." He said without breaking eye contact with Li Xingke.
Li Xingke remained silent. Looking down at the pale face Tianzi who upon the botched rescue attempt by his men still refuse to let go of his hand and had been pleading with him to return to the royal palace.
It was true that Chinese Federation is a member of the United Federation of Nations, but it was his sworn duty to look after the best interest of Tianzi and her Kingdom. He also had to consider the implication of the aftermath, especially in light of what Schneizel had almost done. His instinct told him that the new Emperor would remain to be an enemy of the Federation.
"Very well." Li Xingke closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Dispatch all available forces to secure the sky fortress, neutralize any opposition. I will retire the field with Tianzi," he pulled the child empress a bit closer, "and I will summon whatever additional reinforcements to defend against the eventual counterattack from the Empire."
"What of the prisoners?"
He felt the tiny hand in his stiffened.
"Friends of Her Highness are friends of the Federation. Their good deed will not be forgotten." He peered down and was rewarded with a tiny smile. "They will be accompanying us."
He began to walk toward the elevator but paused by Hong Gu. "Be sure the weapon is operational as soon as applicable, we might need to employ it very soon," he whispered.
"As you commanded," Hong Gu replied with a curt bow.
********
"How long until they are in place?" Suzaku growled impatiently.
"Three Twenty-First TFS and Five Oh Five TFS is on station with tanker support, Forty-Fifth Bomb Wing is ten minutes from phase line Alpha, Ninety-Third TFS…"
Suzaku tuned the rest of it out and huffed in defeat, his arms flexed stiffly in frustration against the controls. The much-anticipated counterattack failed to materialize. The initial confusion at sea hampered both side tremendously. It had been well over forty-five minutes and they were just getting into positions.
"Where is Jeremiah?" Suzaku seethed.
"Lord Gottwald is aboard HMS Illustrious," the female voice reported without missing a beat. "Coordinating the offensive, shall I-"
"Connect me."
"Right away, sire."
Suzaku was inwardly embarrassed for his outburst at the poor woman, but he could care less if he managed to accelerate the attack by yelling at the right person. For all he knew, whatever precious opening Lelouch created for him might be lost already. The only thing that prevented a complete collapse was the cessation of F.L.E.I.J.A. bombardment.
His tapped his fingers furiously until the screen with masked baron blinked to life.
"Jeremiah-" Suzaku began hoarsely.
"My lord, we will commence the attack in five minutes once the Forty-Fifth is ready to launch their ordnance," the man's stoic manner managed to calm Suzaku's temper somewhat.
"Once you are able to achieve area suppression we will be able to send in the assault shuttles and retake Damocles."
Suzaku was already flipping switches to bring his powerful battle frame online when Jeremiah said, "Please be vigilant, my lord, we receive no additional reinforcement in battle frame and the enemy outnumbered us nearly four to one…"
Whatever you have with you is all we got, he didn't add.
Suzaku couldn't help but smile thinly at the monarch. "I will find a way to even the playing field, Jeremiah, just be sure that the shuttles are there when I clear the path."
"At your will, my lord." The man bowed. "Three minutes."
"All Star leaders, check in with your Lance and prepare to launch on my command." He took one last glance across his instruments.
Suzaku took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Lancelot Albion, launch." He then pushed the throttle all the way up, welcoming the sensation of gravity pushing him against his seat as his battle frame soared into the air. Below him, hundreds of battle frames swarmed into the night sky following the Knight of Zero in a final confrontation to redeem their honor.
********
Diethard worked the manual focus wheel frantically trying to capture every expression through his viewfinder. The auto focus function was too slow for the sheer numbers of people running past his vantage point.
He gritted his teeth and swallowed with effort, willing the tremor of excitement to recede with every growing minute.
Zero had not been a disappointment after all.
He was so disheartened when Zero chose to reveal his true identity that fateful day in the hanger. Admitting the accusation without a fight, relinquished the trust the Black Knight placed upon him. His right palm was actually over the bud of his pistol inside his coat jacket, using the camera over his shoulder as cover, prepared to aid Zero should he decided to contest the allegation. He was hoping that Zero would turn the table once again like he did so many times before when forced into a corner.
Although Zero was saved by Rolo in the end, but that was not part of his device. For that, Diethard lost all confidence in Lelouch's ability to deliver the finality that he had helped and orchestrated for Britannia. He could certainly relayed to the devastation of losing one's sister and the closest confidante, but grief was an emotion for mortals, not the enduring protagonist that he shaped Zero to be.
So he settled with Schneizel instead, who was considerably different from Zero. Just as charismatic, in his calm, subtle way, but much more calculating, more manipulative, and above all, more heartless, which in Diethard's opinion, Zero lacked.
Schneizel assertiveness caused Diethard to stray further away from the "Perfect Ending" for the Empire. Schneizel will firmly but politely reject his propositions at every turns, relegating him to nothing more just another pawn in overall scheme only the Emperor To Be knew.
Diethard was overwhelmed by shock upon learning that he would not be filming Lelouch's execution. He was on his way to plead his case before Schneizel when all hell broke loose. Afterward, he was confined to his quarter until he stumbled upon a clip over the intranet. Mere words could not describe his elations watching in awe at the countenance of what once to be Lelouch disappeared into white noise of static on the screen.
The combat footage that he came across later solidified his believe that his favorite hero was back into the plot, but the story was unfolding all by itself, beyond the scope that he could foresee. All he knew was that an ultimate confrontation between the good and the evil was looming, and it was unclear who was which, but he would be there to capture every frame, he would be the one who revel the final victor to the world.
Just then a uniform with green strip and trims ran across his view finder, knowing who it belonged to, he panned and followed Maldini struggling through panicking soldiers running into the hanger and toward the awaiting transport. Diethard zoomed in and watched Maldini grabbed the perplexed pilot who stood by the ramp and shoved him inside, seconds later, the turbine engines spin to life, behind him, the heavy blast door screeched and rumbled as the hydraulic system labored to pull the two five-ton doors close. Screaming and shouting intensified as more soldiers frantically trying to get through.
After falling bodies and crushing bones, the heavily armored doors finally closed with a deep and echoing shudder. All the clamoring died down in an instance as everyone's attention turned to the now closed gate. The only sound in the spacious hanger was the sound of running jet engine. But like with a click of a button, everyone rushed toward the shuttle only to be pushed back by a picket line of personal guard from Schneizel.
The tug of war between both sides were becoming fierce and more violent, the sound of clamps releasing on the outer door fueled an unspoken urgency from the soldiers trying to board the plane.
Diethard's fingers tightened on his camera, knowing full well the situation had quickly reached a boiling point. It was only a matter of times before the shootings begin, and he was right in the middle of it! But this was what he strived, what he sacrificed so much for; the capturing of raw, crude human emotions.
The outer door lumbered slowly open as thick and oily smoke poured in from the outside, further intensified the scuffle. Just when Diethard cringed and was waiting for the opening shot, the heavier door grinded to a halt and the entire hanger plunged into darkness.
********
"Bloody Bullocks!" Professor Kassel swore angrily, his movements paused in midair, the tussle of wires mingled between his hands.
"Move your fucking arse and get me some light!" he barked into the murky darkness. As on cue, arches or light shined through the darkness.
He continued attaching the rest of the wirings when his assistance hurried over. "I am done over there, professor-"
"Do we have enough power to set off the device?"
"Yes, professor." He nodded, taking over Kassel's task.
Kassel stood up with effort, wiping at his face now slick with sweat and huffed in relief. The trap was almost done, all he need was…
And that was when he heard it, a series of faint yet insistence rumble coming from the other side of the closed gate.
********
Diethard instinctively flipped on the spot light above his camera and panted his view finder on the now shuddering door. Many other weapon-mountedflashlights also came on, all shone at the same direction.
Each beating on the gate was gaining force and intensity, each thump was louder than before and every one produced an echo that reverberated inside the hanger, making his eardrum pop. Thanks to the slightly ajar outer door, their head wouldn't explode from the sonic boom. Never the less, several dozen men already cowered down with hands over their ears, begging for the suffering to end.
Sound of pulling chains and movement off the corner of his eye caused him to swung his camera around, bringing the bright, powerful spotlight on the source of the noise-
And he froze in midstride, his camera hung limply on his shoulder.
"Holy Mother of God…" Diethard moaned.
Diethard watched in dreadfulness as Professor Kassel and his people hoisted C.C. up in midair by her wrists, her bare and lanky frame dangled ungracefully back and forth like a broken doll. He averted his eyes and stared at the man responsible.
You have just signed the death warrant for us all.
"What the fuck are you doing, Kassel?" Diethard tried to yell over the racket. "Let her down."
Seeing no reaction from the guys in lab coats, he strode closer to be heard. He wasn't doing this out of sympathy or compassion for the now comatose girl, nor out of any respect. He was doing it simply because he did not want to be condemned with someone he had nothing to do with.
Too late.
The latest strike from the other side bulked the heavy gauge door inward, the resulting boom was so loud, his ears was still ringing long after he dropped his precious camera and covered his ears.
Someone must have rerouted the power on the deck, for the lights overhead came back on and the outer door resumed its lumbering glide. Just like everyone else, Diethard looked from the door and the running transport and contemplate his next move…
WHAMMM!
A thunderous clap sent everyone to their knees covering their ears. The twenty centimeter thick blast door blew open on its bottom half like botched corn kernel. The force of the impact sent broken metal fragments flying and turned the hanger into a shooting gallery.
Flesh ripped and bone shattered. Dozens of men went down clutching their wounds and writhed in pain, crying for help. Many others dived for covers as the fragments pinged off whatever cover they took from behind.
A sizeable chuck caught a guard from Schneizel's personal detail by his torso, killing him instantly. The projectile continued past his corpse and straight into the engine of the waiting shuttle.
The slug demolished the turbine engine and the razor sharp turbines broke off in pieces which in term also sheared off the right landing gear assembly, causing the transport to collapse on its fuselage, the better half of the plane were now engulfed in flame by the ignited jet fuel and seconds later, fireballed into the air.
Ignoring the throbbing pain from his ears, Diethard shouldered his camera and zoomed in on the figure that emerged from the breach.
********
Nicolas and his team cleared the last flight of stairs; their weapons drawn and ready, the commotion was heard four flights prior. He followed right behind Nance who flopped down on the floor and deployed his light machine gun, other member fanged out, forming a semi-circle around the entryway, ready to engage any hostiles.
"What in the bloody hell…?" He heard Ingham's baffled tone behind him, but didn't have time to look, for his aiming reticule was centered on a figure forty feet away, where virtually every gun in the hanger was pointed at.
It's the Demon King.
Nicolas recognized It at once. It was that same pair of slanted, glowing red slits and the hideous, tattered, odd looking cloak that he saw on the footage. It took him a few seconds to figure out why; the draft from the widening hanger door was blowing one way, but the cloak was drifting toward the opposite. And its skin tone was an uncanny…auburn? Or was it brown? Its hair was spiking downward close to the face…
No.
He corrected himself. The Demon King was drenched in blood. He only noted this because like some sort of freakish illusion, the enormous mace that he thought It was holding morphed into a shape of a human size, five-fingered hand before his very eyes. The patch of skin underneath its ear had the same pale complex. He squinted more closely, blood was still dripping down on its face through the soaked hair. And there were those dark…mist evolved around, circling slothfully by Its feet.
He took his finger of the trigger on the already lowered rifle and swallowed hard.
Like many others in the hanger, the memory of those slain weighted heavily on his mind. The testament of the unimaginable horror was standing in front of them.
From his distance, it was hard to discern its expression, but it was clear that the Demon King was taking in the view, its head veered from left to right in his direction…
The vile creature bellowed. Its carnivorous jarred open at an impossible angle, the shrill and lingering howl carried with it an unbelievable rage that the jagged fangs within pledged absolute destruction.
Nicholas looked on dumbly as the Demon King leapt high in to the hanger, as he followed its descending form; his eyes gawked at the green haired girl hung dangling in the air.
"It's impossible…" he whispered.
********
"The cable, now!" Kassel screamed with all his might. His eyes were bloodshot, watching the objection of his affection came at an incredible speed.
The Barricade cable system designed to stop or recover out of control battle frame came crashing down on the creature as it landed in front of C.C.
********
Diethard panned his camera between Kassel and the now ensnared creature. The professor stood over the creature triumphantly and retrieved a medical injector from his coat pocket. The Demon King struggled violently against the steel netting, its black cape fluttered unnaturally underneath.
He cursed his over excitement when he saw the professor's hip moved but no words came from the amp.
"-crown jewel of our existence," the professor glowed menacingly. He took a small, blue color vile from another pocket and inserted it into the injector.
"Now you are mine," Kassel declared. He reached down and placed the injector head on the exposed skin and pulled the trigger.
Through his lens, the professor's expression was one of puzzlement and uncertainty. He watched the doctor pulled the trigger once more, twice and finally stood up and looked at the tip of the device.
"Argh…bugger," Kassel whined in annoyance. The professor reached into his side pocket and started fiddle with the injector. He was so engrossed with whatever he was doing, he didn't notice the black cape by his foot liquefied and slithered over the cables. It began to engorge and stretch, like a scene from out of the most sinister legend, into serpents with seven heads, each one with distinctive features.
"Professor."
Someone hissed from outside the camera view, it sounded like that scrawny assistant of Kassel's but Diethard dared not move the view finder. The crosshair was center at the man's nose.
Maybe it was premonition, or perhaps by the shadows casted by the serpents, the professor slowly lifted his gaze from his hands to the seven towering fiends. The dumbfounded expression soon changed to one of awe and amazement. Diethard held his breath as the men pushed his glasses further up the nose, grinned and plunged his injector into the nearest beast.
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To Be Continue