A/N: Well, I've got Chapter 2 done after a week of mulling over the second scene. This scene should give you the premise of what is going to happen soon: the Britannian Empire is in disarray with Nunally being unable to fully take over the governing, leaving the Witenagemot (Gathering of the Wise, a form of Parliament) to do most of the administrative duties. At the same time, the Chinese Revolution has taken place, overthrowing the monarchy and the Eunuch Council, bringing to the world the new Republic of China under the rule of the Xin Kuomintang, led by Generallissimo Chiang Shih-Kai, who is as much of a Social Darwinist as Emperor Charles himself had been.

At the meantime, Lelouch, by means of some new Geass (which shall be explained later) managed to rescue Dr. Ignatio Mobius, as well as a team of GDI military scientist from the burning ruins of the Philadelphia Command Space Station immediately after the thing was hit by a Nod nuclear missile. As a result, Dr. Mobius is now lending the spiritual Lelouch the GDI's technological help, in the form of a "Mammoth Tank, Armor Superiority".

Please read and enjoy!

P/S:Well it's the second chapter, with more than 100 hits but... still no reviews. I don't know what is wrong, but if it is possible, could you please tell me what has gone wrong - via PM or review - so that I can mend it? Thanks beforehand!

Turn 2
Remnants of a Disaster

The natural terrain of Britannia left a lot of uninhabitable zones out of reach of the general public. There were an abundance of deserts, mountain ranges, epic summits, impassable jungles, as well as previously perfectly inhabitable lands turned into waste as a result of Daedalus bombardment. Before the invasion of Sector 11, Emperor Charles had had in mind at least three plans to reclaim more land from nature, but apparently war, terrorism, an untamable son and eventually death had stopped him from carrying out those plans. Arguably, he couldn't carry out all those plans without sufficient energy in the first place, dooming those benevolent intentions into the domain of impractical awesomeness.

As a result, a huge, unpopulated highland in the southwest of the mainland was still standing there, as a proof of triumph of nature over humanity – in a sense. Arrogant were the mountains and the boulders, looming over the arid ground as if it was theirs and theirs alone, as if no man could cross it without falling prey to the hardship. Proud and stoic, as nature had always been.

That is, if Nature had forgotten that Lelouch Lamperouge was exactly the kind of unshakable hero who had no qualms against punching out Cthulhu in the first place, let alone nature. Precisely, the barren mountains where no one in that age could live comfortably was turning into the critical intermediary of his master plans. Only himself, the Earth, and those few he still employed knew what kind of designs and calculations he was having with those wastelands.

It was huge. It was undercover beneath the uncanny shell of Mother Earth. It was branded "Lelouch" from one end to another, conceptually speaking. An underground base/factory compound at its best.

How an entity restricted to spirit-level existence could monitor such an astonishing task was difficult already, but how he could do it when ninety-nine percent of the world's inhabitant would throw all sorts of blessed anti-demon charms at his barely-lingering self if they ever saw him again was a wonder in its own rights. And yet, Lelouch did it… again. Not that he had ever taken any major enjoyment in his royalty status, but the feeling of walking through the newly-constructed and plated hallway of his new hideout, with everyone he crossed path bowing respectfully in his presence, was definitely good. And he didn't cheat his way out of it – his new subordinates' irises were nothing out-of-the-norm, chromatically speaking.

"I greet you, Your Majesty," a serviceman dressed in technician uniform said as he spotted Lelouch in the distance, immediately bowing down low, simultaneously generating that warm and fuzzy feeling of pride in the spirit's heart.

"Afternoon, Lt. Grant," casually spoke Lelouch as he strolled by hurriedly. "Remember to report to Sector 5 for compatibility laboratory tests ASAP."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" affirmed the officer.

"Please excuse me – I'd love to stay and chat but I'm really busy as of now."

Lelouch was honest with that. As of present, his head was on the brink of exploding – that is, if it had been corporeal it would. In the past twenty-four hours, more complications had taken place than the sum of the past one year added, escalating the situation's seriousness beyond casualness. Though the world was not going to blow up any time soon, things were developing rapidly, almost escalating to the in-war levels.

The spirit's pace stepped up as he approached a certain chamber at the end of the corridor. A steel, automated door visualized before his sight, a newly painted "AUTHORIZED PERSONNELS ONLY" in block letters flashing haughtily at all passers' by. Lelouch smirked at the still wet sign – at this step, the only "authorized" personnel were himself and the person he was supposed to meet with behind the gateway.

Lelouch moved forth, before a control panel on the wall, opened his left eye at the maximum angle, and stared at the LCD conveniently positioned at his level. A mechanical voice buzzed from the panel's speaker, the distorted tone it spoke in was quite the comic relief for the deceased emperor on its own.

"ACCESS GRANTED. GOOD DAY, LELOUCH VI BRITANNIA."

Lelouch laughed silently as he heard the declaration. Perhaps in the whole of the compound, the digitalized door response is the only voice that addressed him by name, a good change of air, when he was at it. And then, as Lelouch looked on, the door creaked open slowly, like a giant behemoth taking its time to lumber out of the way, with a jet of steam – or rather, smoke. For good reasons, with the frequency that that door was operating, it'd take much longer before its motion became more flexible. And Lelouch was cool with that – whatever lay beyond those plates he would not want more than a handful to know.

The large doors closed far slower than he had wanted, about at the same pace as it opened. Involuntarily the spirit attempted to cover as much of the still open doorway with his back, as if to block out anyone's unconscious visions. Futility was duly addressed, though. His now-ethereal forms meant that his standing before the gateway could block as much unintended vision as an industrial fishing net could – virtually nothing. Fortunately, the hallway was relatively empty. His newly established base, as much as he would like to boast, was far from adequately manned to give birth to the poky type. But it was only when the steel slabs had came to a complete closure that Lelouch breathed out a gasp of relief, however unneeded it was.

It was an engineering laboratory/factory hybrid Lelouch was now standing in. Compared to the scale of his makeshift stronghold, it was virtually the largest chamber of all, at almost twenty feet high, each side no less than twenty yards in length. According to his calculations, up to five Knightmare Frames of the standard-issue model could be kept there, housed, repaired, serviced, and revved up. Or even dismantled to give rise to more advanced models. In short, the paradise of military engineer, in a modest sense.

For all what Lelouch knew he had done a fine job supplying the stash with sufficient working materials. Mechanical models were lining up one wall, while tools of all sorts, be they automatic or manual, mundane-sized or industrial-sized, were kept on the other. But that wasn't the key feature of the compound. In the middle of the room was something vaguely resembling a tank, which was strange, seeing how most nations in the world had generally discarded the traditional tanks in favor of the more combat-savvy Knightmare Frames in the war. What was stranger, that tank model was larger than most in history, spanning almost all across the length and width of the enormous room, looming over the tiny rest with well-deserved pride. And its structure, as just a quick glance revealed, was at least half a dozen times more solid and stable than the average, outdated contemporary tanks.

Talking about his purpose in the visit, the person he was seeking an audience with was standing there, at a table in the far left corner. A white-haired scientist, with a white blouse to go with, as well as age-denoting wrinkles all over his forehead as a sign of age and devotion to his trade. He looked completely absorbed in is work, not even paying attention to the door's apparently deafening advent. Lelouch raised his eyebrows a little as he glanced at him, after which a smile of approval emerged across his ethereal lips. That was exactly the kind of person he wished to work with – devoted and strongly attached to his work.

"Doctor Ignatio Mobius," Lelouch called out as he approached the table. "It's good to see you still working."

The said scientist jerked a little in a start, as he forced himself back, his eyes a little bewildered as he glanced at his questioner. Upon seeing the familiar figure before him, the old man breathed of relief as he addressed the newcomer.

"Lord Lamperouge, you're back," the man bowed a little, albeit awkwardly, as unnaturally as the word lord, reason of which Lelouch could clearly understand – the scientist he stood before had lived his whole life in a dimension where feudal titles had been eliminated for good.

"I've got to thank you for the duplication of the Shinkirou Knightmare Frame," Lelouch nodded. "It works better than I thought, considering it was almost eradicated from the face of the Earth before…"

"That's nothing, sir," the scientist replied. "It is my pleasure to find out that there exists such an environment-friendly replacement for Tiberium in this world myself."

"Talking about Tiberium," Lelouch addressed, "I'd like to know how your research is going, doctor."

"The result as I have now is splendid, sir!" Dr. Mobius exclaimed joyfully. "As far as I know, the Sakuradite Core installed in the captured Knightmare Frames produces 85% as much power as a Tiberium-saturated Nod power generator core, with 145% service durability and 67% less volatility. As soon as the new Sakuradite Core can be placed into action, the Insurrection can mass-produce the heavily armored Mammoth Mk-III Tanks, fully customizable to tailor to our pilots' every needs!"

"Excellent," smiled Lelouch. "However, are you certain that the Mammoth Mk-III can withstand a full onslaught by the Guan Yunchang-class Knightmare Frames?"

"The Chinese Guan Yunchang is, statistically speaking, just a revamped version of the Lancelot Frame," Dr. Mobius said. "And the damage output stats of the original Lancelot, as far as I know, are roughly the same as those of a Nod Avatar Frame or a Scrin Tripod Attack Frame, neither of which could defeat a Mammoth fair and square. I have full confidence in the Mammoth Tank, as a long-time developer of GDI weaponries and technologies."

"The Chinese have the advantage in number, Dr. Mobius, lest you forget about it," Lelouch looked rather skeptical as he spoke. "We need something to balance that advantage out. Have you, Doctor?"

"That is where we are now, sir," Dr. Ignatio replied with pride as he whipped out a blueprint from his table.

The blueprint was especially detailed, filled to the brim with connotations and complex formulae, most of which Lelouch could not understand, to his vast intellect's shame. Not that he needed to, anyway, for the answer was on the way.

"The pride of the GDI military is the widely adopted rail guns," Dr. Mobius continued, as he glanced pridefully at Lelouch's blank expression. "Naturally, the Mammoth MK-III Tanks are also equipped with a double-barreled rail gun, but its heavy duty frame allows for the deployment of many more. With no need of the many layers of Tiberium shielding any longer like the original design, the frame can allow for even more of these boys, not to mention extra armor, which we'll talk about another day. Consequently, we can actually enhance the Mammoth Mk-III into a monster tank, literally, with anywhere from seven to fifteen rail gun turrets, laser-guided to suit the purpose. Meanwhile, the Lancelot Knightmare Frame, or the Guan Yunchang when I'm at it, can carry much less armament and armor than our Mammoth. The answer, sir, is a foregone conclusion."

"If that's so," Lelouch replied enthusiastically, although technical details weren't too much of his favorite, "when can the project start in full scale?"

"We need money, sir," Dr. Mobius answered, as he looked at his oversize brainchild with a visible gag. "This kid weighs two-hundred and sixty-four tons, without the rail guns, that is. That's just the raw mass alone. We also need the precise technology to manufacture GDI-exclusive spare parts. Not to mention ammunition and a lot of other things. As I said, sir, war costs money and tons of it."

"I can take care of the money myself," Lelouch blinked confidently. "I have… sources, you can trust me on that," his face then turned serious all of a sudden, as he stared at the scientist with due suspense. "Apart from those, when I was away, did anything happen?"

"As the radio suggests earlier this morning, sir, the situation is, unfortunately, falling apart rather quickly," Dr. Mobius answered, his face tensed as he spoke in response. "Generalissimo Chiang Shih-kai has had his first hostile speech on open broadcast today. He doesn't seem to be concealing his attempt to take advantage of Britannia's current situation and launch a full-scale invasion. Although, he does strongly suggest that if anything, he would take Japan first, and then comes the lousy, depraved Holy-Crapped Britannian Empire, to put things as he said."

"How's the response of the Witenagemot then?" Lelouch looked quite agitated as he gritted his teeth.

"Far from positive," Dr. Mobius answered. "If they are the people to represent Queen Nunnally Vi Britannia's administration, then the reign is as good as doomed. They were at best withdrawing and at worst outright trembling before Chiang's threat."

"I know most of those people since birth," Lelouch shook his head in clear disapproval. "The epitome of an entire race of corrupted politicians – and unfortunate for Britannia enough for them to be in power at this important time."

"Sir, from my personal experience with red-tape bureaucracy," Dr. Mobius replied with a nod, "You can rest assured that they will be the last people to stage a resistance and the first to turn tail and run should the Chinese really blow the war trumpet."

"Then let's make this quick, Doctor. The Witenagemot must fall if we are to resist Chiang's menace." Lelouch's annoyance escalated as he breathed out heavily. "Those people are not far from offering my sister to those scums on a platter to save their own skins, I am sure of that."

"I shall do my very best, sir," Dr. Mobius answered. "But by all means, my attempt alone will not solve anything. We need more labor, and we need them fast. Otherwise we are getting nowhere."

"Then, how much can you do alone for, perhaps, the next week?" Lelouch asked earnestly.

"I need at least ten more helping hands and adequate machinery if I am going to turn out even one Mammoth this week, sir," Mobius' tone was a combination of disappointment and frustration as he said. "Otherwise this hull may have to sit around for another three months, at least."

"I see," Lelouch breathed out hard, as if trying to swallow a large lump at his throat.

"On the other hand, sir, there's also some good news," Dr. Mobius said, attempting to cheer up the mood. "The messenger sent to the 34th Imperial Knightmare Unit has returned with an uplifting confirmation."

"She's back?" Lelouch's eyes brightened. "What did they say then?"

"The girl named Renesmee Cullen has been successfully enrolled into the unit's training sub-division," announced Dr. Mobius. "The only condition, though, is that she must remain in Imperial service for at least one month after graduation, by means of the Constitution."

"That's no problem at all," Lelouch remarked with a visible smile. "Major Jack Ingham has done his best in our service, after all. We can't ask for more when this enrolment itself is nonstandard."

"That being said, sir," Dr. Mobius backed up to his table. "I wonder if there is any way we can bolster production, for this doesn't…"

"Trust me, Doctor," Lelouch said determinedly. "If I can pull you to safety from the wrecking Philadelphia with your life intact, I can similarly pull out a good production staff at your disposal. I only ask that you complete as much as you can as quickly as possible…"

"My life is yours, Lord Lamperouge," Dr. Mobius bowed once more. "As are the lives of all the Philadelphia crews you have saved from that nuclear disaster. We'll jump into a Tiberium silo at your command if you want."

"I'd rather not, thanks," mildly replied Lelouch with a sly smile signature of the Demon Emperor. "There's a lot more I'd like to ask of you guys…"

******

Renesmee still hadn't recovered from the impact the oversize mechanical entity's appearance had on her. Certainly, an action figure would make a fine toy, but one thing, that was for boys, and the other, the toy in her front yard was too large for its own good. And Jacob particularly didn't like the latter any least bit – his old-generation car was almost trashed when the thing threatened to topple over. Not to mention how no one was even vaguely able to picture how that humongous steel figure could make its way into Forks without alerting the neighborhood, let alone positioning itself precisely at the very center of the Black household.

"This thing is going to take a day to remove from here," Jacob remarked as he walked around the gigantic toy three times taller than himself.

"Are you sure you can do it alone, dear?" Renesmee asked, her crystal clear eyes emitting what seemed to be a combination of awe and mystery.

She wasn't a small girl any more, physically speaking, and in some way, mentally speaking – even when nightmare happened, it was unlikely that its effect could drag on for as long as that, protruding into the ever-beautiful real world. It was plainly weird at best and absurd at worst.

In any case, the absurdity had been done, and its effect now undeniable. Somehow she got a guilty feeling of responsibility – were it true that what had happened in the dream had truly affected her real life, she had made a fair chunk of mistake by nodding to Mr. Lamperouge's request.

But what was done was done, and there was no point in regretting, or so it seemed. They really should move the large toy somewhere else, so that it wouldn't clog up their cozy front yard and threaten to crush their sweet home should it lose balance. The point was, Renesmee didn't expect to spend that day cleaning up the mess.

"Or should we just leave it here and go on with our plans?" Renesmee quietly asked her husband.

Jacob wiped his forehead as he glanced at his childish spouse. As annoyed as he was from the unwelcomed addition, he understood the importance of that day. Three years ago, on that very day, they were wed at the consent of everyone in the Cullen household. Although he had sworn not to violate her until she had gotten chronologically older, and it would be quite some time before she would happily bear his child, that day had still gone down into his and her calendar as a day to remember.

To celebrate it, Jacob had promised her to take her on a field trip of sort – a memorable tour of the surrounding woodland. It was supposed to be one of the rare occasions that Renesmee got to get some air, so how eager she was to await that special trip was a foregone conclusion. And Jacob, being the platonic lover he was, would rather have his house crushed by a meteorite than trampling Renesmee's wish.

"Of course this will have no effect on our anniversary, honey," sweetly said Jacob, as if forgetting all about the Shinkirou looming over their house. "If this freak falls on our garden, or even our house, we can always rebuild it. But an anniversary is a timely event, and time, honey, doesn't come back!"

"Hooray!" exclaimed the dhampir gleefully, an exclamation not unlike those of primary schoolers before an exciting event. Jacob smiled happily as he gazed at her innocent beauty – intellectually and physically speaking she had grown up, but the lack of real-life contact knowledge had slowed her mental maturity by quite a bit. And Jacob would rather this state continue for some more.

Jacob flicked his head towards his antiquated automobile, helplessly parked at the mercy of the mech. He opened the door with a powerful swing, as he leaped to the cabin, pinned his seat-belt in place, and signaled Renesmee to follow suit. The childish physically-adult wife of his was gleefully quick to follow. Jacob had enough time to have a quick glance at her eyes – it had returned to the crystal clarity of complete, childlike, blissful ignorance it used to be and should be.

"Growing up can wait, Nessie," Jacob thought as he started the engine. "I'd like you to live as happily as you can, for as long as we, no, I, can protect you from the world beyond…"

*******