A/N: Another note, right after I said that I dislike saying things at the start of the chapter. Just need to say, if you see a grammar error or horrible word mash, PLEASE tell me about it. I have a dense schedule, and I'm ashamed to say my proofreading has been lacking much so…..

Mobile Fortress Front

Sunday

6:00 AM

The six pilots were gathered at the forefront of the Mobile Fortress. The battle had been very nearly beyond their limits, as each of them bore their brunt of bruises and cuts, slashes and lacerations across their entire bodies. Senba nursed a glancing bullet wound to this head while Chiba clutched at a broken wrist. Knightmares, barely operational, lay crumpled besides them. Only Tohdoh and Kallen weren't visibly shivering in the open air, though they all felt anxious. After all, the absolute best pilots of the Black Knights, the legends that dared defiance, were currently sitting vulnerable in an open field.

And it was not within their abilities to survey a war.

"This is BULLCRAP!" Chiba shouted, voicing the thoughts of everyone present. She turned to Tohdoh for support. "We need to be OUT THERE FIGHTING THE BRITANNIANS! Zero ordered a FULL retreat, the Mobile Fortress was a nice trick, but honestly, we'll be SLAUGHTERED when reinforcements arrive!"

"Zero has a plan. We must have faith in him." Tohdoh responded in a flat voice. His glassed eyes stared upwards at command deck of the fortress.

"Have faith in him? HAVE FAITH IN HIM? The man who doesn't even show his FACE!?" Chiba shouted, exasperated. "Tohdoh, you've asked a lot of us in the past, but this is just-"

Tohdoh slapped Chiba in a liquid motion. It was not an action one would come to expect of the famed Man of Miracles, but he had been chipped over the last twenty four hours, in the wake of the massacre and this delineating battle.

Chiba faltered back and landed on the ground, shocked. Her hand tentatively pressed at her stinging cheek.

"Chiba. I'll only say this once. What has the JLF managed to do in the years we've had? NOTHING. We were the falling leaves, the wind swept dust, BENEATH the notice of Britannia." Tohdoh eyed her coolly.

"And then Zero comes. He assassinated a PRINCE. He outsmarted and beat Britannia, over and over again. And suddenly, Britannia can't help but notice us. They sent the Witch of Britannia personally to put us down. And then she failed. Backed into a corner, Britannia was forced to take desperate action."

He raised his head and stared at the four other pilots gathered. "It was all Zero. ALWAYS. Even if he does where the mask, even if he ISN'T Japanese, he lives every moment with this hatred at a front of his mind. And that is why, I have complete faith of Zero. That what he does, he does to kill the viper."

"Well said, General Tohdoh!" A high pitched whine filled the air as nine dense shapes condensed around them.

Knightmares….Kallen's raised hopes fell as she observed the models.

Just Sutherlands. Six for each of us, one for Zero, one for... C.C? Then who's piloting the last two?

The cockpit block of the left most Sutherland expanded, revealing their masked leader. Kallen sighed in relief, despite the situation. The image of Zero's bleeding form still haunted her.

A crash sounded to the right.

Britannian reinforcements. Even the fortress won't be able to hold it off indefinitely!

Zero stood. "Your mission is as follows. Eliminate the attack submarines surrounding the Black Submarine. The enemy is expecting no aquarius combat, besides the Black Submarine. These frames are equipped with aqua jets. Take them by surprise, and eject after you destroy your targets." The gunfire increased in the background. "Tohdoh, Kallen, and Senba. You will lead the attack. The rest of you will swim parallel to the Black submarine and collect their eject blocks."

"Wait." Asahina started, examining the presented Sutherlands. "These may be equipped with aqua jets, but not for a submersed environment. There's no breathing apparatus, no water tight weapons, and no guarantee that these will be able to take the pressure!"

"Agreed. Rakshata predicts fifteen minutes of optimal performance. By that time, all of you must be returned in the airlock of the is no other option. As for weapons…." Zero pointed down to the black cylinders strapped to each knightmare. "… Chaos Mines. The water will clip their abilities, but they should work well enough."

Behind them, a panel of machine gun turrets exploded.

"And what about you?" Tohdoh asked. Kallen nodded at the statement. After all, what was the point if their leader didn't manage to survive?

"I will stave off the Britannian reinforcements with my fellow comrades. They won't be able to resist a target like me."

"Zero!" Kallen interjected. "WE'RE NOT LEAVING YOU BEHIND! YOU CAN'T-"

Another explosion rocked the harbor. The left brace of the Mobile Fortress collapsed on itself, teetering the entire structure off balance. "My time here is limited. Don't worry, I have a plan to make it out alive. I wish you the best of luck." Zero slid back into his seat.

The five group members took Zero's cue and rushed to their respective Sutherlands. Only Kallen hesitated, for a fraction of a second, wondering what to do.

Get a hold of yourself! This is ZERO we're talking about! Have faith in his plans. She rushed to her Sutherland.

The six pilots were cautious, fighting in an underwater environment. But Zero was putting himself on the line, gambling it all for the sake of the living. Following orders was the least they could do.

If the king does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow? Kallen paused momentarily as she remembered the phrase, some off ball quote thrown around the halls of Ashford.

A quote like that…and Zero's following it to the letter.

She spared a final glance at the masked revolutionary, the steel cockpit block closing around him. For all of his patter, Zero was a most peculiar man. Intelligent. Sly. Cold. Calculating.

But… when it came down to it…. he's willing to risk his life, all to save the Black Knights. Her thoughts turned once again to the most popular topic always on her mind. Who IS Zero?

Euphemia braced herself for the withering storm. The Mobile Fortress was on its last crutches, barely a quarter of the armaments still live. Cornelia, C.C., and Zero, stood tense at her right.

The cries of armor piercing bullets increased.

Adrenaline of a liquid fire surged through her system, optimizing every sense and muscle. She pivoted the right shoulder of her knightmare in impatience.

Come on…. come on! She took several deep breathes and wiped the accumulated sweat off her arms.

A final shot thundered across the now empty battlefield, followed quickly by the high pitched churning of landspinners.

"Get ready…." Cornelia whispered through the radio. Her own Sutherland shifted backwards and brought her gun to bare.

A squad of eight Sutherlands swerved across the corner and into their line of vision. Euphemia hesitated, her cocked gun just a small press away from firing.

I'm…. I'm sorry! She shut her eyes for the briefest of moments and mashed the button.

The Britannian troops barely marked their guns above parallel when the torrent of shots pierced their cockpits with ease. Three of the knightmares swiveled and impacted the ruins of a fallen building. The final two slumped to the ground, pilots dead or fatally wounded.

Cornelia and Lelouch went about war, briskly exchanging spent cartridges with new ammo. C.C. discarded her gun in favor of a bazooka left lying on the battlefield.

But Euphemia stared at one of the steel carcasses. Slowly, as if trudging through liquid air, she lifted the cockpit block for an open view the Sutherland's pilot.

It was a Britannian male. Barely younger than Suzakau. He had shapeless red hair that flowed downwards past a straight chin. His nose was just barely crooked, protruding forward at the oddest of angles.

And his chest was missing.

Or rather, a large chunk of it was absent. The combination of high caliber anti-armor bullets and organic flesh never yielded a pleasant outcome.

Euphemia choked back bile and very nearly dropped the compartment at the sight of the very dead life.

NO. Get a hold of yourself. This man was no civilian, no bystander, but a SOLDIER. He knew the consequences the moment he enlisted.

She gently placed the cockpit back on the cold ground. He was a soldier…. I AM a soldier. We both have our duties.

Euphemia haphazardly reflected a mock salute. For your service, and ultimate sacrifice, to Britannia.

"And for your intentions, and personal beliefs, may you find peace in your next life" She stepped out from her crouch and prepared for the next advancement.

Lelouch watched Euphemia's actions out of the corner of his eye.

Her first deliberate kill.

He recalled his first murder, years ago, in the midst the invasion of Japan. Suzaku and Nunally, journeying across battlefields layered with the dead.

A hand shot out from what they had taken as another dead carcass.

It had grabbed Nunally's arm and yanked her from his back in a single motion. He could still remember the voice, the horrible rasp of death mixed desperation.

"Give me food. Give me FOOD! I'll off her! I've killed WOMEN and CHILDREN! Don't you doubt me! I'll do it! I'll do it-" That was as far as he got before a bullet permanently ended his life. Lelouch could still remember Suzaku's eyes, widening as they saw Lelouch's frail hands grasping the cobalt black of a standard issue pistol. Tears blurred the sides of his face.

Lelouch shook off the memories. Euphemia was now rotating away, having made peace with her victim. He could only watch sordidly as she continued preparations.

From the first…. it only gets easier from there. He thought somberly. With that, he flicked on the radio to an open transmission.

He stalled a second longer before gathering his conviction in a single surge of fury incarnate.

"I AM….. ZERO!"

"I AM….. ZERO!"

The voice boomed from within the second Mobile Fortress. The generals stared at the screen with rising panic. Intel had stated that the revolutionary had been absent, most likely killed in the massacre

But here he was, in the flesh.

And despite their advantage, despite having the masked man in the palm of their hands, cornered and played in every sense of the word, the generals still shivered at his form.

The cold drop in his voice, the steel flair, it all inspired a deeper churning of fear.

"I AM TRANSMITTING MY COORDINATES NOW, TO ALL UNITS WITHIN RANGE!" He raised his chin, staring at the screen with full hearted confidence. "COME AT ME IF YOU DARE."

The screen quickly flashed to black.

The generals sat back, stunned for a fraction of a second. But in the absence of his nightmare presence, they rediscovered their fool competence. One stepped forward, brash, young, wishing to take credit for the event.

"Send the Glaston Knights and all reserve knightmares! Bring me Zero's head!"

"-COME AT ME IF YOU DARE."

Kallen eye's widened at the proclamation.

That's…. what he meant by holding them off. I never took him for a fool, but this is SUICIDE!

She pushed her knightmare to full capacity. The best she could do now... was follow his plan.

As of now, she was three minutes into the mission, and her knightmare was quick to show the strain. Half of the motors in her legs had been immobilized a minute into the ocean. Her arms were slowly locking up. Behind her, a small stream of salt water filtered in through a crack in the wall.

In the distance, a shapeless black mass was barely visible.

The submarine!

Her radar beeped at the threat of inbound torpedoes. They flew forward in a single straight path. Kallen manipulated her Sutherland to easily dodge the oncoming ancillary, closing the distance to the submarine in half.

With the metal clank of spinning motors, a top hatch of the submarine slid open, revealing an entire salvo of awaiting missiles. There was a small crack as they took flight.

"Ha! You're getting desperate now!" Kalln muttered. With a small grunt, Kallen veered to the right and under the first five torpedoes. She flipped forward and allowed the final three to slip under her legs. She stopped as a stream of quick moving water whipped by the torso of her Sutherland.

"What…." she said. She backtracked as a sudden pod of torpedoes approached her with gaining speed. They were orange and slimmed to a diameter of a couple inches, obviously designed for quick movement.

One didn't seem like it would do much damage. But fifty? More than enough to shred her Sutherland.

Kallen turned on her side and dived as the torpedoes tore through her previous location.

"NO!" Kallen shouted as they sheared her right arm. She clutched the console as other torpedoes impacted on the Sutherland's armor.

A red flash cited the damage.

Three shots to the legs. Four to the torso. One to the….. She quickly looked to rear of the cockpit in alarm, spotting a steady stream of water spilling in.

"DAMMIT!" She charged forward at the now defenseless submarine. Kallen knew the rules of knightmare warfare better than anyone, the eject sequence was a modified protocol that could only be deliberately disabled from the outside. The outward pressure of water might not have been enough to trigger it, but a change in balance due to excess internal weight would instantly trip the system.

The cockpit continued to fill.

She had seconds.

Kallen screamed a primal statement of singular conviction as she activated the chaos mine and planted it clear on the top of the submarine.

She fingered the radio. "This is Q-1, ejecting now-" Kallen was thrown backwards as the cockpit ferried her away from the massive explosion of black energy.

Kallen watched with satisfaction from forward monitor as the chaos mine gutted the submarine.

Any competent general would have classed at least some varied weapons…. for insurance if nothing else.

She attempted to move her left foot, and was rewarded with the splayed sound of sloshing liquid. The water was halfway to her kneecaps and quickly rising.

"Oh shit."

The knightmare of Andreas Dalton was dashing forward to the sound of distant gun fire. To his right and left he was flanked by his five sons, raring for vengeance against the Black Knights. The only one missing was Guilford, who Dalton had forcefully dismissed from the operation on questions of his mental state.

Dalton had been through better days. His face had lost its customary stone mask. Dark shadows grabbed at the undersides of his eyes, while his hands shook atop the joystick controls. It was only by force of will that he didn't turn to his scanner and search for a specific IFF signal.

It would be the first battle of nearly three years where he didn't have to think of Cornelia.

Wouldn't have to think of the possible enemies that may target her, small traps specifically set for her unit. Wouldn't have to think of the possible alternative, Cornelia falling in battle, leaving only him to describe her demise to Euphemia.

He snarled with fury at the injustice. The implication that Cornelia might fall in combat one day had gradually settled into his mind, nothing could stop the strong willed princess from doing what was needed for victory, especially not the threat of battle.

But Euphemia? The innocent child, heart of the purest stauncher. In all his roaming, he had yet to see someone like her, full heartedly devoted to good.

She was the world's greatest chance for a bright future.

Was.

The World's.

Dead, she was dead. Both sisters had succumbed to a force he had never seen coming, the Black Knights.

Despite open hatred among members of the court, Dalton had respected the Black Knights. Fighting for liberty, justice, honor, driving the conflict forward against unparalleled odds.

The fervor to succeed, no matter who or what they were up against, was something he acknowledged to the highest degree.

But the SAZ massacre smashed all of his expectations. He had been wrong about the Black Knights. And it had cost him the lives of two princesses.

Why…. why did he let the Britannian soldiers take him away? His place should've been with CORNELIA, defending her to his last!

Dalton clenched his teeth. Zero. When I find you…

Euphemia finished the Sutherland with a crosswise hack of her gun. The victim only joined the growing stack of armor on the battlefield.

Pressure had explosively increased within the last minutes as Britannia pooled all resources towards the killing of Zero, the final nail in the coffin for the Black Knights. Despite the lies told by the SAZ, Zero was still foremost a symbol, a near god like figure who independently opposed the Great Britannian Empire.

His existence incited resistance.

For that, Britannia would break him.

But not while she had a say to it. The debris and fallen Command Fortress had funneled the enemy forces into a lewd gap, easy targets for their guns.

Eventually, though, they would succumb to the brute force. Euphemia held no illusions to their predicament, the Sutherlands they faced were the front line throw aways Britannia had initially used against the Black Knights this day. Next to come, would be the elite.

"Zero! New enemy sighted!" Cornelia shouted on the shared com link. "It's….. the Glaston Knights!"

Euphemia breathed out in relief, despite herself.

The enemy, is was not Suzaku.

Had he been waiting on the sidelines to join the battle, he would no doubt have made his appearance with the elite squad. Euphemia would be forced to use her name to incapacitate him, a move that Zero warned her against.

His words, "You, of the moment, are dead. Cherish the gift….. anonymity never lasts long."

But the Glaston Knights were an entirely new problem unto themselves. Trained by the best, they were elite, strong, and fast. Pinnacle soldiers of the Empire.

And she knew them. How long had it been since she sat by the fire, listening to the famed general contrive a tile of simple fortitude, but endless entertainment. She had feared Andreas Dalton at one point. His demeanor of ice, the scar inscribed upon his face. But he was one of a growing Cornelia's most trusted allies, and thus she had been inscribed to his care once or twice while Cornelia completed her military training.

And in the time, she had learned his gentleness. The face that had been scared while saving the lives of a family of Sevens during the onslaught of hurricane Courtney. The hand that had adopted five Britannian orphans who had no where else to go.

She owed him her ideals. And if it came down to it, she wouldn't, couldn't, kill him.

But it didn't seem to be a topic of worry. The Glaston Knights weaved through the debris like a breeze, dodging a majority of the fire they had laid out.

The four them were good. But not against a team that had trained their entire lives for combat.

They had one advantage, but Zero was saving it for optimal effectiveness. And at any rate, she doubted either she or Cornelia could live with using it on the Glaston Knights.

"C.C…. Lelouch….. try to incapacitate only." Cornelia's tone was malleable, underling the sincerity of her statement.

Hmph. Like we're even going to get the chance. Euphemia thought.

She stood braced as the first of the Glaston Knights jumped the wall of bullets and closed for combat, gun long since discarded for a golden lance.

Euphemia reversed at the onslaught, attempting to shell out as much lead into her opponent's armor. But the custom knightmare was a hair faster, taking the initiative and slashed at Euphemia's torso. She rolled with the cut and sent the opponent's knightmare backwards with hit to the lower body from the barrell of her gun. She discarded the gun in favor of the miniaturized blade previously holstered at the hip of her knightmare.

The two body's jammed their ignition and rushed back towards each other. The other knightmare kept Euphemia at bay with constant jabs of his lance, preventing her from getting close. Euthemia felt herself being slowly driven into a corner.

Damn. I need to move, quickly. IF he gets me cornered, that'll be it….

Euphemia straightened as an idea occurred to her. She shifted her center of gravity forward and waited for the next stab of the lance. It jabbed forward, aimed to penetrate straight through her cockpit block. She instantly pushed her knightmare into the blow, feeling the tremors as the lance caught in her let shoulder. Her right hand impaled the knightmare's side with a dagger. She jumped back as the knightmare slumped to the ground, energy flow from the Yggdrasil Drive completely shut off.

"One... one down." She whispered to herself. She spared a moment to catch her breath, panting heavily at the recent of exertion.

I should've listened to Cornelia earlier. Physical exercise. Why have I never tried it before.

"YOU BASTARDS!" A gruff voice pitched through the radio waves. Euphemia turned slightly in recognition at the knightmare sprinting towards her.

Dalton..?

Her thoughts were cut short as the Dalton's knightmare put on a burst of speed, smashing a shoulder to Euphemia's already wounded frame. With practiced brutality, the Dalton pinned Euphemia's Sutherland to the back of the wall and shattered her remaining limbs with a lance.

The knightmare dropped Euphemia's disabled frame to the ground. He slowly placed a mechanical leg over the cockpit block.

"What….." Euphemia touched her forehead and found blood from the impact. The attack... so fast!

The monitor in front of her blinked red.

"NOW LISTEN HERE YOU COWARDLY SCUM." Dalton's voice traveled through his outbound speakers. There was a crunch as Dalton increased the pressure on the cockpit. Euphemi went for the radio, only to find it disabled with the rest of the equipment.

Oh no. She panicked and pressed the button again, and received the same response. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no-

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT WOODWORK YOU CRAWLED OUT OF, bUT FOR THE LIVES OF EUTHEMIA AND CORNELIA-!" A snap sounded as steel rivets burst. Euphemia placed her hands on the sides of the closing walls, a feeble attempt at life.

"DIE!"

Cornelia was having her own problems. She was engaged with the presumed Alfred G. Dalton, a pilot of no small skill and no small mouth. They were both engaged in a gun fight, neither relinquishing their long range fighting abilities. Alfred was weaving in and out of fallen debris to shake her fire, while Cornelia committed to tailing her old ally.

"Ha! Is that all you can do, terrorist? Disappointing." He reversed to the left and out of view. As her knightmare approached the corner, she was backhanded by a quick lance slash to the right arm, severing the control nodes. The gun jumped out of her hand and to the ground.

"Pitiful. Just pitiful. And here I thought I'd be joining a fight!" Alfred reversed before she could counterattack with her knife. She looked up in preparation for the continued fight and froze instead.

A purple knightmare ripped off the mechanical limbs of Euphemia's Sutherland.

"Euphemia!" She shouted. A rank of bullets smashed into the her frame, preventing her from immediately going to her sister's assistance.

Cornelia's focus sharpened instantly.

She ran in a straight path towards her opposing knightmare frame. Seeing her movements, he raised his gun and laid down a textbook net of fire.

But she was expecting it.

Cornelia dodged the round, letting the next shots slam into her torso, where the armor was thickest. At the sight of her berserker onslaught, Alfred dropped the gun and gripped the lance.

She raised her arm with the knife. In a predictable fashion, Alfred positioned himself right foot forward, prepared to spear her cockpit block in a single blow. Ten feet from the enemy, Cornelia launched her slash harkens at Alfred's factsphere. Cornelia heard Alfred chuckle as he twisted to the right and parried the slash harkens, twisting back around to face Cornelia's.

"Really? I'm sorry. I know your desperate, but that was pathetic-" Alfred's voice, streaming through the sound system, was cut short by a short gasp.

Cornelia's knife had imbedded itself to the hilt at the interlocking joint between shoulder and chest. With a hiss, the weakened clasps automatically jettisoned the destroyed arm and the lance.

Cornelia snatched the fallen item and twirled it back towards her opponent. The tip hovered an inch before the cockpit block. Alfred had gone still and silent, grasping the fact that survival was prominently in the hand of his opponent.

For Andreas. She tripped the knightmare's ejection sequence with a minor puncture to the cockpit before speeding forward to the assistance of her sister.

From the distance, her mind registered the Dalton's booming voice.

"FOR THE LIVES OF CORNELIA AND EUPHEMIA-"

Cornelia reached the verge of panic at the spaced distance still between them.

Dammit! I… I can't make it in time! She grabbed her communicator, not caring what Lelouch's instructions had been.

She activated the radio.

"DIE!" Dalton's voice roared, easing fatal pressure onto his opponent's cockpit.

"CORNELIA LI BRITANNIA ORDERS YOU TO STOP!" Dalton paused, frazzled by the ear splitting voice.

Impossible! A recording, it must be! Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel a dim lit blaze of re-surging hope flood his stricken mind. The steel sole of his knightmare eased off the crippled knightmare.

His thoughts were jarred as a purple knightmare frame tackled him from behind and shoved him clear of his would-be-victim.

Dalton clenched his teeth in anger. So that was it. Just a trick to catch me off guard.

He lashed out at his new opponent with his lance.

"How dare he use Cornelia against me. HOW DARE ZERO!" He abandoned his lance and grabbed the enemy knightmare frame with bare hands, squarely landing a kick on its chest plate.

But the other knightmare was no novice to the game. With one hand, it utilized his errant momentum to flip him to the ground and land a blow to the head of his knightmare, disabling his factsphere. Before he could use the advantage, Dalton gripped the knightmare's legs and tossed them off balance. He quickly righted himself and impaled his lance in the knightmare's left leg.

Missing both an arm and a leg, the knightmare collapsed, splayed out across the ground.

Dalt approached, comprehending his duty, but held back by the tiniest spark of hesitance. Those moves…. the coordination… I've only seen them on one pilot-

"Idiot… IDIOT!" Cornelia seethed at her own incompetence. She should've had a plan, should've created an alternate plan of action. No doubt Lelouch would've in a second.

And instead she was laying in the dirt, knightmare utterly spent.

Dalton's frame appeared to be almost frozen in contemplation, no doubt working the final curves to his identity. She grabbed for her communicator, but paused for a second.

She had used her name against Dalton once, in the midst of combat. He may have dismissed the first as a fluke, but a second time? It would all but confirm her identity. She and Euphemia would be thrust back into the courts, the madhouse of murderers and psychopaths, hidden behind wicked charm and polite reversal.

And Euphemia would die. Britannia had swung the momentum from her death, utilizing it to deprive the Black Knights of their greatest resource; the people. With her return, it would only be a matter of hours before another framing was arranged.

And she couldn't accept that. But it all flew back to one question: Who is Dalton loyal to?

Her radio crackled.

"Who is the pilot of this knightmare?" Dalton's voice came through, anger spent. His voice was tired, but laced with an undertone of desperation.

Before she could compose an answer, the distant landscape rippled with movement, a phalanx of approaching Sutherlands. 20 at the least…..

Zero's voice played through her communicator. "60 seconds Cornelia." She nodded in blind acceptance and rolled her knightmare towards Euphemia's, peeling back the steel cockpit with her one good hand.

The things I do for you Euphemia….

She hit the sequence to retract her cockpit. There was the hiss of retracting locks followed by a thick silence as Cornelia found the battlefield beleaguered around her.

It was a stunning sight. The landscape dotted by the reigning destruction. Buildings, pilfered and sacked, fallen in crumbled ruins. Broken knightmares, punctuating at intervals, now twisted clumps of dented metal. But somehow, inexplicably, the sun had managed to rise, a contrast of a rising red hue. The morning air breathed life to the sodden battlefield.

She quickly removed her headgear, letting her purple hair flourish to her shoulders, staring down Dalton's knightmare.

Dalton stared and kept on staring. His mouth hung slack in wordless pronouncement, tears lapping at his relief. He hit the button to eject the seat hard enough to damage the console. He had to see it with his own eyes, had to confirm the impossibility with his own sight, to be able to truly believe

that it was her.

She had the same obvious fire. Her hair, the shades of brilliant purple, blazing tin the morning sun. Eyes a purple blue blend. And the posture, proud and defiant, daring the world to scream at her.

Relief surged through him. Alive….. after all this time. It was only then that the second crashing abounded; Why…. why are you fighting Britannia? With the Black Knights…..with ZERO?

"….Princess Cornelia!" He traveled down his frame to the ground by a slip wire, pushing such thoughts out of his mind for the time being. He watched her take an identical step to the ground. "Cornelia!"

It will work out fine now. She'll come back to Britannia. She has to! She's a princess of Britannia!

But… should she come back? A small voice asked. The SAZ…. why would they dismiss Guliford, Suzaku, and I? Something else happened, something Britannia is lying about.

And she knows it.

He was within ten feet of his princess, watching her grip a feeble form from knightmare he had downed.

A feeble form with pink hair.

A silent chill overtook him. He stopped dead, eyes wide, words fleeing him. Cornelia, supporting Euphemia with one shoulder, passed him on the way back to her knightmare.

She turned towards him for a single instant.

"Things are happening in Britannia. Corrupt, sinister ideals. Praised for their very traits." She stopped for a second, a luxury she couldn't afford on the clock. "Britannia tried to have Euphemia assassinated. Her only safety now….. is in death."

With a fluid movement, her hand careened to her side and then out again, leveling a pistol at eye level.

Dalton's eyes didn't waver at the sight of the barrel, instead focusing on Cornelia's eyes.

Eyes ice old, aged. Not the same.

"I can forgive you for this. For hurting Euphemia, unintentionally. But should you choose to talk, to say ANYTHING that would compromise her nameless identity." Her voice dropped to a fatal pitch. "I swear, I'll kill you."

He briefly hesitated before replying with a military salute. "Your majesty, my loyalty has always been to you and Euphemia. You have my word, I will not speak of this."

Cornelia eyes him edgily before holstering her weapon. He swore he could see a sentence of gratitude pass through her complexion, before dissipating.

"This is my last order as Cornelia li Britannia. Dalton, get into your knightmare, and hit the eject. You and the Glaston Knights." She waited for the sound of his movements. "NOW!"

Dalton rushed to his knightmare, following her orders out of habit. He watched Cornelia climb into her cockpit, Euphemia still inert.

God, I did that, I hurt Euphemia. But more than that, the steady realization that Britannia had painted the target, not the Black Knights. If it's true, BRITANNIA tried to assassinate the pair, then everything is a lie.

Lelouch was sweating profusely from within the metal cauldron. His knightmare was battered and worn, both front slash harkens disabled. To his right, C.C.'s knightmare wasn't faring any better.

From the highest level of the battlefield, he watched the three Glaston Knights regroup for another onslaught on his and C.C.'s location. Tactically speaking, it was less than ideal. Any height advantage gained was only lost by the open area, which heavily favored those with more combat experience. If more reinforcements showed up, they would be easily surrounded.

But he needed to see.

He needed to make sure that Cornelia and Euphemia would get out safely and without harm. He had very nearly gotten killed when he saw Euphemia's knightmare go down, freezing up and letting one of the Glaston Knights fire point blank. It was only C.C.'s timely intervention that saved him.

Lelouch diverted his attention to the group of approaching Sutherlands. A wall of purple steel, quickly advancing on their humble position. Following them was an a second Mobile Fortress, housing the generals, confident in assured victory. The Glaston Knights planning on taking them down with combined forces.

Perfect.

"Schneizel." He mused. "I at least expected competence from your subordinates."

He moved his radio, activating the transmission to his allies. "Everyone! 5 seconds!" He clicked it off and activated his eject sequence. As the triple surge of fire propelled him into the air, he reached into the folds of his cloak and unveiled the small device with a single button.

"Long live….. JAPAN!" He clicked the beating trigger.

The generals were reclined back. Awash in their confidence of assured victory. The topic of conversation had turned away from war, and to the commodities of daily life.

Major Beck Hans watched the scene out of the corner of his eye.

It sickened him. Here, the finest of Britannia, the elite pompous fools who made their positions on the cash they shelled out. No skill, no strategy, just the whimsical thought that everything would turn out fine. And here as they partied, as more troops died, more Britannians suffered.

INEXCUSABLE!

One of the Generals noticed his sordid expression and walked over.

"Sir General Bale!" Beck responded with a salute. General Bale dismissed it with a wave, smiling gleefully.

"Why the sorry face! We're just about to kill Zero HIMSELF!" He wrapped an arm around Hans broad shoulders. "You should relax more, at least try to pretend to be happy!

Don't do that. Don't you dare pretend like we're friends you arrogant scum- He stopped his errant thoughts, and forced a small smile to his face.

"Of course, General." He replied. The general retreated, content with his expression.

"SIR! Confirmed! All hostiles have ejected from their frames!" A technician called. The generals laughed humorously at the statement

"Well, what are you waiting for? Just shoot them down-" Hans stopped paying attention. Focusing instead on the announcement.

Ejecting? This is Zero we're fighting….. he understands the futility of it! Unless this is part of his strategy… unless….. He turned towards the downed Mobile Fortress that had been commandeered by Zero.

My god, could he be-

"ALL FORCES! TAKE COVER NOW!" He shouted, turning on his com link. "FULL REVERSE!"

The generals looked up, now annoyed at the break in their mood. "Now Hans, I know you're a top notch soldier, but you need to-"

A blast of orange fire radiated from the G-1 Fortress. It surged outwards before shrinking slightly, the energy biding its time to reach full power. And then, with an explosive reversal, it expanded to the limits, encompassing the G-2 Fortress, its occupants, and nearly all the Britannian forces present at the dock, shredding steel and stripping flesh, a mercy-less hailstorm of conjunct metal.

From a distance, three cockpit blocks touched down on the ground.

A/N: Ah don't have to much time to say stuff right now, as I ruined my schedule by waking up late in the morning.

Just want to say thanks to EDK, who left an excellently composed review of my story