We know one thing. Lelouch is capable of great evils. Such as the one described below. Or... maybe not THAT evil, but it is still heartless, to a sense. Read & enjoy!
Turn 5
"This. Is. Britannia!"
For all what Renesmee Cullen knew, she was undergoing the worst moment of her life. The darkness that she was going through was unlike anything she had seen before – thoroughly bleak, empty, as if an unknown void had swallowed everything and anything she held dear, leaving her with herself, and herself alone. Her limbs were frozen in place, like that of a one being buried up to the neck, losing all their senses. Her parents weren't there, nor were her aunts and uncles and grandparents, and not even her dear husband was there to dispel that seemingly eternal shadow.
What was worse, her own screams and cries for help were similarly drowned in the sea of blackness, devouring her desperate wails in the most sadistic way possible, as if it was sentient of her inability to free herself or otherwise asking others to. Even if her nearest and dearest had been there, they wouldn't hear her. Her terrified screams were left to echo in her head, as a further token of helplessness, amplifying her already deeply rooted fear exponentially.
And then came the limit at which Renesmee could not stand it any further. A screeching cry burst out of the base of her throat, as if she had never been able to scream before, in what seemed to be a final attempt to break out of the hell she was confined in. A victimized prisoner plagued by mental agony, Renesmee's cry was perhaps the trapped girl's final attempt to make a breakthrough, before succumbing to the unspeakable horror.
And yet miraculously, for some reasons, it worked. Like a fading column of black smoke blown away swiftly by the white wind, the darkness surrounding her came to its abrupt conclusion, returning her consciousness, sight, and the freedom to move her body around. Freedom came to her so quickly and unexpectedly that she was fidgeting and twitching her limbs long before she could actually question how she had survived the worst ordeal of her life.
As soon as conscience returned to her, Renesmee breathed of relief, upon realized that she was lying on a flat surface, with but a certain warm, wet, and stuffy sensation all over her back and face to pester her. Apart from the sweat on her forehead, which she promptly wiped away rather comfortably with her newly liberated hand, the amount of liquid on her backside alone seemed to be even more than the summation of her perspiration since birth. It was a common sight for her to sweat profusely whenever she had a nightmare, convincing her that all what she was going through was just a nasty abomination of the mind, no more, no less.
Reactively Renesmee lifted herself off the surface she was lying on, as she opened her mouth, about to call out to Jacob, the usual way for her to start a new day. She was stopped before she could say anything though, for a simple reason. She was nowhere near the cute apartment she called her own, and nowhere near the dear man she called her husband. Before her now spread the unknown setting of a strangely decorated room, lacking both the warmth and the loveliness of her own household.
If anything, the room she was now in was more like a storeroom of an industrial structure rather than a place where humans can stay. The lighting available in the room was none too bright as well, with only a tiny ceiling lamp enough to barely illuminate her face and the surrounding constructs. The walls weren't built with brick and covered in flowery wallpaper, but rather put up with sheet metal welded together to form an enclosure. The sharp, dreadfully cold glare from the surface was chilling to Renesmee, as if her rapidly evaporating sweat wasn't already doing the work. A small, but thick and imposing metal door, attached with a sophisticated control system was barring her only way out.
As a final markup to her confusion and growing tension, Renesmee's next realization was far from helpful – the girl's next instinctive reaching for the back of her neck resulted in the discovery of a thick electrical wire plugged right there, one end ominously sticking out of her spine and the other apparently connected to a certain computer on the nearest table. That kind of astonishment turned into fear extremely quickly, as she tried to pull the cord out to no avail, only succeeding to hurt herself as she attempted. After the third attempt, followed by a jolt of pain similar to being pierced through at the very place with a sharp sticking pin, Renesmee decided to give up the futile attempt, but only with a nasty feeling to go with. The notion of being an animal being vivisected was nothing too comfortable, once Renesmee got the idea what it meant.
"Jacob? Dad? Mom? Help me! Help!" Renesmee found herself screaming out loud again, this time with much more success than she had in the nightmare, but with no less desperation, as she tugged at the cord with growing terror.
"You have woken up, Renesmee Cullen, or so it seems."
The door clicked and bleeped as the voice entered Renesmee's system, drawing her attention at once to the source of the sound. Curiosity overrode her current fear, as her eyes fixed upon the automatic contraption, as it slowly and dramatically opened, revealing a particular figure behind it.
"Jacob?" Renesmee asked out loud.
"I'm not Jacob Black," the figure answered, as he walked into the limited effect radius of the lighting system.
Obviously he wasn't lying, as the only thing he had in common with Renesmee's werewolf husband was the dark tone of hair color that was too black to be even close to his brownish shade. His extravagant style of clothing was certainly striking to the look, the white robe covering his body filled with colorful studs and jewelry, the kind of garment that her aunt Alice would do anything to get one into her wardrobe. Maybe it was just Renesmee, but the newcomer's eyes were shining with a degree of determination pushed to the extreme, wide open with notions of both malevolence and benevolence simultaneously, a complexity not known in her little world before. For good or bad, she couldn't tell, her limited life experience putting her to shame. However, at that moment, all her thoughts were about something else.
"You aren't Jacob? Where is he?" demanded Renesmee.
"As far as we know, Jacob Black's body was nowhere to be found in the aftermath of the Cullen family massacre," the white-clad figure replied. "Chances are he is still alive, but we aren't exactly sure of what has happened to him."
A certain word in the figure's reply struck Renesmee with the weight of a megaton hammer.
"What... what did you just say?" Renesmee spoke with feverish haste. "The... The Cullen family massacre?"
"At 10.34 am yesterday, the Cullen household was raided by a hostile vampire army," the figure spoke extremely openly. "Outnumbered and caught by surprise, the entire family was brutally murdered, their house burnt down, and their remains shredded and incinerated. You are the only survivor that I know of."
Renesmee was stunned at the revelation, only being able to shake her head in denial as a response. But denial was futile when part of her – and that part grew stronger and stronger as her mental realization stabilized – remembered exactly what had happened. Even though she could not remember nothing else, the image of her family members burnt to ash, with only their severed heads as the grisly reminder of what they used to be like was too vivid a memory to be wiped off her memory.
And then came the mental image of the Volturi vampires, torching everything and sparing none, coming for her as the stood helplessly before the smoldering pile that used to be her beloved. How and why she survived exactly, Renesmee didn't know of, the thought doing nothing except hurting her more the more she thought. The next thing Renesmee found herself doing was to clutch her head with both palms, squeezing tightly, as if wanting to strangle out her own brain.
"It... it... it can't be... it's just... just a nightmare..." Renesmee muttered uncontrollably, violently swinging her head as she uttered louder and louder. "It cannot be! You must be lying!"
"Lelouch Lamperouge does lie," the figure shook his head. "But you can trust that this time he is saying the truth."
"Lelouch... Lamperouge?" repeated the dhampir, as she stared at his face at the realization of the familiar name. "You are... Mr. Lamperouge?"
The imagery of her first meeting with the man called Lelouch Lamperouge was anything but vivid. She was blissfully unaware of what his features were, what he was wearing, or even what his voice was like, but there was one thing she still remembered – the duality of that man she was talking to, the duality that made up every bit of him, the dangling shade of both good and evil, truthfulness and chaos, friendliness and malignancy, melded into the shape and voice of one being. Nowhere before had she seen that duality, not even in her father, who was quite notorious for his "I'm so evil" speech, or so her mother told her. And now again that duality incarnation is facing her.
"Yes, I am Lelouch," Lelouch replied. "So you finally recognized me."
"Mr. Lamperouge, that... that isn't real, is it?" Renesmee's words clung on to her new acquaintance, as if clutching to the slightest bit of hope. "My... my parents somehow... they are still alive, aren't they?"
"They aren't," Lelouch answered bluntly, trashing Renesmee's last hope and gunned it down with his every word. "I'm sorry for your loss, but that is exactly what has happened. Being top-notch vampires as they are, they didn't survive the battle."
"It... It can't be!" scowled Renesmee.
"It is true, Renesmee Cullen," Lelouch shook his head, genuinely sincere in his words. "I've seen their bodies with my own eyes. Edward, Bella, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, Alice, even Esme and Carlisle... they're all gone."
There was a moment of silence as Renesmee rolled her eyes at Lelouch, with a look best translated as a fine mix of shock, distraught, angst and violent, vehement rage. She finally snapped.
"You're lying!" Renesmee's reaction was understandably violent, as she sprang at Lelouch in the same way a sniveling child would pummel an adult to get what she want.
Renesmee used to display that behavior all too often at home – being the only daughter in a wealthy family, as well as being the dear wife of a man who worshiped her like a goddess meant that she all too often got things done her way. She had to learn that things no longer worked like that, in the hard way, when the cord connecting her neck to the computer yanked her back before she could even touch Lelouch, inflicting a massive amount of pain to her supper spinal cord in the meantime. The pain was such that Renesmee's eyes blacked out for a brief moment, before being pain-forced to retreat back to the original position.
For a moment Renesmee lost all control of her senses, her agonizing pain seizing control of her totally. And when she finally recovered and resumed her stare at Lelouch, an added degree of humiliation was included in her defeated look. Mental and physical pain finally manifested in a steady stream of tears flowing down her visage, as she began to cry out loud, partly from the notion of having just realized her first irreversible loss, partly because of the helplessness she was currently trapped in, with no hope of getting out by her own.
"Remove my chain!" Renesmee wailed. "I... I want to see my family for the last time!"
"At the moment I am afraid I am unable to disconnect that cord," Lelouch slowly said. "That cord feeds your current mental and physical statistics straight into our main computer system for further analysis. It is connected to your spinal cord with an electromagnetic device – there is no way you, or even me, can remove it without powering off this entire compound."
"You... you are an evil man!" Renesmee exclaimed. "Release me now, before my husband come and..."
"My apology, Renesmee, but it isn't even known whether Jacob Black survived the atrocity," Lelouch replied sternly. "Even if he does, there is little chance he can even find out where we are now, let alone come to save you. The damsel-in-distress model doesn't work in that way any more."
"But... why, Mr. Lamperouge?" Renesmee muttered. "Why did you... do this?"
"I have no other choice," Lelouch shook his head. "There is too many... mysteries around you for our own good. But don't worry, the test won't last more than a week. You'll be fine after that."
"What do you want me for?" Renesmee asked, her emotions in a full-scale surge as she spoke.
"There are many things you needn't know as of now," Lelouch answered. "Just keep in mind that we share a mutual interest. We need you for an important mission. And you, similarly, need us."
"I don't need you!" Renesmee exclaimed madly.
"Your parents have died horrible deaths at the hands of powerful vampires – those more powerful than themselves," Lelouch said. "Don't you want to do them the rightful justice? Don't you want to avenge their death? Don't you want to make the culprits suffer the way they had your parents suffer?" the Britannian ex-emperor stared right into her eyes, not at al touching his Geass, yet with the same degree of compelling persuasion. "Don't you?"
Lelouch's charisma was almost hypnotic. Before Renesmee knew it, she was already nodding in agreement, as if forgetting wholly about the abuse she was undergoing.
"I... I do," Renesmee verbalized that gesture. "But... but how?"
"You have vast potentials, Renesmee," Lelouch answered. "Enough to achieve greater things than your parents have even dreamt of. Enough to help shape the world into a better place for everyone else. But you must first learn to use that potential well."
"My potential? What do you mean?" Renesmee asked back with all due curiosity.
"You have a certain... power, Renesmee. A power barely understood by today's science, yet powerful enough to render whole armies useless," Lelouch answered. "We are trying to learn more about your power, and devise a way for you to channel it against your enemies. Once you have known how to control it, you will be untouchable."
"Tell me what you know," Renesmee demanded. "I want to be able to destroy the Volturi as soon as possible!"
"Geass," answered Lelouch promptly and sternly. "Keep that word in mind, Renesmee. When the day come, you'll know what I mean."
******
"Lock the door," Lelouch ordered the military officer standing on duty at the gateway as he exited the room. "Make sure that she doesn't attempt anything stupid, like breaking free or trying to escape."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" ceremoniously replied the officer.
Lelouch nodded in agreement as he marched away. There were many things that needed his work apart from a sniveling spoiled girl, after all. His time was short, and knowing that the Chinese Xin Kuomintang would take every chance they could to seize Britannia for themselves, Lelouch knew that they could be stopped by nothing short of a full division of GDI Mammoth Mk-II Tanks.
"And there came the problem of labor," Lelouch sighed. "Better not let Dr. Mobius know that even I am unsure of where we can start conscripting skilled technicians yet, or..."
Lelouch's thoughts were interrupted as he entered the next section of corridor, where his ethereal form was almost pierced through by a certain, peering pair of discontent eyes. The ex-emperor looked up to realize that before him, the GDI veteran Colonel Havoc had been waiting for him, with folded arms, shaking his head in due discontent as he stared at his supposedly superior.
"Your Majesty," sarcastically remarked the veteran. "I have some questions I would humbly like ask you, because they have been troubling me greatly."
"What's the matter, Colonel?" Lelouch asked back, feeling rather puzzled.
"I was wondering how much you honor a promise," Colonel Havoc questioned. "We Commando, for your information, detest nothing more than a commander without honor."
"I am losing you, Colonel," Lelouch glared back with some degree of annoyance. "What on Earth are you trying to tell me?"
"You have promised the late Edward Cullen to protect his daughter, haven't you?" Colonel Havoc asked.
"Yes, and what is wrong with that?" Lelouch scoffed.
"And, Your Majesty," Colonel Havoc said, "may I asked you from when did blatant human experiment and incarceration serve as protection for a young girl? You are already breaking your promise to the dead by what you are doing to her!"
"It is a must, Colonel," Lelouch tried to keep himself calm as he explained. "She is part of, no, she IS the most important part of our plans. We cannot succeed without fully understand her powers and use it to our advantage!"
"Even by resorting to such things as vivisection and solitary confinement?" Colonel Havoc questioned. "That, may I say, is not even how the GDI treat prisoners! Only the most dehumanized of Nod Confessors would use that methodology on... children!"
"Then I welcome you to this side of the world," Lelouch could no longer contain his annoyance, as he let out a roaring exclamation. "This. Is. Britannia, Colonel Nicholas Parker. Where all sides of the conflict extensively use apparently immoral methods to serve their needs, no exception. We can either do it, or be damned."
Pausing for a little while as he breathed down his rage, Lelouch resumed with a calmer, yet still extremely vexed resolution.
"And my sister does not allow me to be damned, you know that?" Lelouch shook his head violently. "If something bad happens to her, I'll never forgive myself, or even the world, when I am at it!"
Before the GDI veteran even had time to reply, Lelouch had marched off, ignoring him thoroughly, leaving Colonel Havoc to stand ground like an old fool.
"By the grace of God, what kind of a leader have we gotten into?" Colonel Havoc sighed. "I wonder if you understand what we are getting into, Dr. Mobius..."
******