Author's Gab: BACK FROM THE DEAD! Here's the next sub-phase, for anyone who's interested. Took a bit longer since I had to tweak some of my other stories after finishing that dratted academical exercise. Anyway, I'll be rigorously updating for anyone who reads this from here on out, just stay tuned! P.S. Anyone know where I can place a multi-crossover story in this place? Specifically, it's something from anime/visual novels. If you have the patience and kindness to respond, please PM!
The screen lights up, displaying a person's haggard face..
"I assume from this late report and the lack of 'explosive' news from Area Twelve that you've failed in your simple task? Such incompetence."
The figure on the chair sniffs in contempt, already dismissing the voice's panicked apologies.
"Oh well...we can still afford to continue this charade as long as possible...'It' is still a long way from being completed anyway."
The screen fades to black, cutting off the voice's anguished screams. The figure steeples its fingers thoughtfully in the darkness.
Dr. Rouche Aiyme watched as the last of the submersible transports departed from the facility, each carrying personnel and needed supplies to their assigned destinations at the shores of Area Eleven. Once there, they would start executing their orders to support the subjects in their current mission.
As Portland and the man from General Affairs had left on their own submersibles hours ago, the esteemed engineer was now the overall administrator of the facility in their absence. In the line of command, she and Valdez shared a spot, but it seemed that Portland shared her views on the man's inability to lead.
Being the leader, she was forced to watch over the various departures from the facility for much of the day, logging in each vessel to leave into the private terminal as she sat with boredom in the hangar. She had watched the two subjects leave on the first transport, strangely unescorted. She did not know what Portland had ordered them to do, but it seemed that they wouldn't be needing to use the Morgana for a while, as it had been left where it was in its hangar. She had then felt another wave of protectiveness wash over her as she watched their vehicle slip into the water, a feeling she quickly swatted away.
Now that the last transport had left, Aiyme ordered the exit hangar to shut down as she rose to leave. As it was nearly sunset, she only had a little less than an hour to do her daily check on the Morgana. As she strided down the corridors, she was suprised at the feeling of emptiness that pervaded them. It seemed that there was less activity going on now that some of the personnel had left. It was a decidedly eerie atmosphere for the esteemed engineer, and she doubled her pace down the empty halls.
Inside the Morgana's hangar however, the technicians bustled about just as normal. The mechanical beeps which indicated another failed experiment brought an exasperated, yet relieved expression on her face as she regarded her baby once again.
Lelouch took a deep breath as he stood beside Nunnally's wheelchair on one of the many neon-lit streets of the Tokyo Settlement.
The final orders had been given, their initial equipment had been packed, and their cover story had been established long before they had entered that confined space. The trip from the facility was tense and silent between the two, but it remained uneventual until the jarring thump that signalled that they had arrived on the shores of Area Eleven.
Upon exiting, they had taken the chance to breathe the familiar air and note the expansive night sky as Lelouch carried Nunnally towards a nearby hill where some men from the facility had already gathered. There, he eased Nunnally into her wheelchair and received an envelope filled with papers that would help them about the Area. Then the men left, leaving Lelouch to push his sister's chair towards the brightly lit place that was Tokyo Settlement.
Gradually, as they exited the back-alleys and crossed into the boundary of the Settlement, they heard the sounds of the nightlife, of Britannians in all their social finery strolling, laughing and cavorting in singles, pairs or groups, constantly illuminated by the neon lights of various shops and establishments. Here and there could be heard laughter, jeers, joyful discussions - voices of all kinds talking with a united tone of contentment. They passed a group of boisterous gentlemen, from the right came the sounds of a peculiar beat, above them in a building came the tinkle of silverware. Everywhere they felt new sensations, feelings that were just as stifling as the facility's yet felt fundamentally different.
For here, unlike the facility, there were people. Here were people going about as they pleased in society. This was not a ruined city or a military outpost where they had only smelled the scent of fear, blood and diesel dominated; no, here were the smells of Britannian society, of humans living in peace and contentment. There were no walls hemming them in as they freely moved about, no threatening presence hanging above them like the sword that had terrorized Damocles.
And that sparked a hint of envy and resentment within the hearts of the siblings - they who were deprived of such things yet were now pushed into the midst of it all. That there were people who lived such lives, vastly different from their own.
Walking imperceptibly a few meters behind them was the enigmatic head of General Affairs. He kept his face angled towards the shops to the side of the walkway, but kept his eyes on the two as they sought their domiciles.
He looked around and spotted a few of the infiltrated personnel, already mingling in with the local Britannian population. They had their duties as watchdogs and would be reporting directly to him of all that the siblings would do in Area Eleven.
Pausing as if to admire a certain jewelry shop's display, the man watched their reflections on the glass as they stopped in front of a building. The two seemed to have no trouble establishing their cover stories, conversing politely with the lady at the entrance. He saw the lady turn a brief, sympathetic look at the girl and then shake her head as she pointed to somewhere further down the walkway. The boy bowed and they seemed to take their leave amicably with thankful faces. The expressions would abruptly change as soon as they left the building.
For the rest of the evening, the two were constantly tailed by the man as they sought a place to rest. He watched as they continued to put on a charade of courteousness as they were sought and were subsequently refused entry, being led further into the inner settlement. By now, the man ascertained, they would be exhausted from their fruitless search, and the man decided to start pulling some strings should they be denied entry the next time.
The last one's proprietor turned out to be a particularly rude-looking woman wearing quaint cleaning clothes, who did not even spare the girl a sympathetic glance. She seemed to have given the two's request with some deliberate thought, and just as the man was about to contact some personnel, he saw the woman nod and point her thumb back over her shoulder. The siblings bowed with gratitude and entered the building.
After counting to two-hundred, the man straightened his posture and proceeded to saunter like a drunk man to the building's entrance. He banged on the recently closed door, singing a rude song all the while and swaggered in place at the entrance as it opened to reveal the proprietor.
"What do you want?", demanded the rude-faced woman.
He gestured as if he was tipping an invisible hat. "Evenin' miss. Ah wonder if ya could spare this man down on his luck a li'l space fer th' night? Ah seem t'have lost mah drinkin' companions somewhere and ah don't think I have th'stomach to sleep in th's streets waitin' for th' godawful Knight-powliss t'pick me up. Mah father can pay ya back firs' thing in the mornin' li'l lady and I-"
His long speech was interrupted as he was thrown bodily by the woman back out into the street, a feat that belied the woman's body.
He landed roughly, and promptly started lobbing insults, "Why ah nevah...! In all mah years as a young 'un, ah've nevah seen such a violent, old hag! Yeah tha's right, leave this poor man to the cold, harsh night!" He brandished his fist as he yelled insults drunkenly.
"In this establishment, we accept no freeloaders, not even those who claim to have 'fathers' of repute. Now begone, or I will be calling the 'Knight-powliss' on your sorry behind!", the woman coldly said, slamming the door behind her.
"HAG! Ya'll be sorry tomorrah fer messin' with meee!!", he shouted at nothing in particular, leering at and scaring off the passersby on the street.
At present, the man dusted himself as he stood and swayed as he walked further down the walkway. About a few hundred feet from the building, he ducked into a nearby alley and resumed his normal posture. He ran the images that he had briefly seen of the building's inside in his mind and recalled no detail that seemed to indicate disrepute. The establishment seemed to be quaint and simple from what he could see. The woman herself doubled as a good watchdog. Tomorrow, more "legitimate" personnel would check in and establish themselves in the building to begin their surveillance.
"Old but reliable, just like the owner." The man muttered as he took a cigarette from his pocket. After lighting and breathing deeply from it, he turned his eyes towards the midnight sky and mumbled, "Now for my part in the play."
"First condition, cleared."
"Yes." With an acknowledging nod, Nunnally started to stand from her wheelchair. The servomotors embedded in her legs had a slight delay in starting as creaking, mechanical sounds filled the room. A faint hiss signified the success in re-establishing mobility as the girl stretched her lower limbs.
Lelouch took the time to familiarize himself in the room that they had been given. It was a simple room with one king-sized bed dominating its entirety. Doors to one side led to a small kitchen area and the small bathroom. The yellowing wallpaper he saw, was peeling in some parts, though the violet drapes flanking the one open window rendered a familiar sight to him. Overall, he judged, the room was just right for them.
As he led blind Nunnally towards the bed, he recalled the difficulty they had encountered all night in finding a safehouse. He had hoped that the personas that they adopted: a visiting Britannian escorting his invalid sister, would be sufficient to grant them easy access, but it seemed that most of the establishments considered face value to be of utmost importance. He had even endured watching Nunnally adopt her persona deeply as she fished for the people's sympathy (to no avail).
"Would you like to rest now, Nunnally?", he asked gently after setting her down.
"Yes...I'm a bit...how about you, nii-sama?" she replied as he walked away.
"It's my responsibility to acclimate ourselves to this place. I have to learn as much as I can from what they gave us." He shook the contents of the envelope on the solitary table.
"Alright, but don't work too much okay? I won't forgive you if you do."
"You don't have to worry yourself about it," he chuckled softly. He was surprised to see her stick her tongue out slightly and dive into the covers.
For a moment, he absentmindedly touched the pile of papers on the table as he stared at her lying form. He then glimpsed the neon landscape that they had just been in through the dusty window, and marvelled at how vibrant and...different it had all seemed to him. With a helpless sigh he turned his attention to the pile and picked up the first paper to be read.
Amethyst eyes narrowed ever so slightly when he read the Area's current viceroy, a name so familiar to the siblings. He dismissed the tidbit after a while, and continued to plow through the essential information about the nation that had once been sovereign Japan.
The things he read all pertained to the current socio-political climate in the Area, from the attitude of the colonizing Britannians towards the subjugated populace, the "Elevens", to the increased military presence to enforce public order and offset the volatile resistance still being offered by a few zealous natives.
And these, no doubt, will be our next targets, he thought grimly as he perused the information regarding what could be dug up about the various Japanese resistance groups. From what he could guess, most of these weren't even able to field the powerful weapon that was the Knightmare Frame, making it even more of a one-sided battle should the hapless rebels become their next targets.
After a few more pages detailing the various important landmarks within the Tokyo Settlement itself, his eyes lit upon a familiar, despicable name.
Ashford.
His eyes sparked a cold violet fury as he devoured the information on the paper with trembling hands. No doubt, he thought, the worms had been rewarded well for their betrayal. And here, as we languished in that place for five whole years, here they carried on their opulence in their so-called Academy! The Ashford name had been sullied upon the death of their mother, and it was generally accepted that they had fallen far indeed to be forced into exile in this Area. Yet that did not seem to deter the cockroaches, he seethed, as they had magically managed to hang on to society despite all odds - through the establishment of this school.
Lelouch opened the window, letting in the hot, bustling air and the noise of the Britannians in their revelry as he hurled the crumpled ball out. He leaned on the windowsill for a while, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
The noise had apparently stirred Nunnally from her sleep as she rose from the bed.
"Nii-sama, you still aren't done? You didn't have to open - " She paused as she regarded her brother. "Nii-sama? What's wrong?"
"No, it's nothing. I just needed to let my mind digest all the information I just read...I'll be sleeping soon.", he mumbled.
A frown crossed her beautiful face as she said, "Lelouch, I can tell when you're hiding something...We don't hide secrets from each other right?" She raised her hand, palm up toward him. "Not that we actually can," she murmured, "as we are..."
Lelouch coolly regarded the proffered hand briefly before speaking, "Subject N." He saw the hand recoil slightly. "I apologize for disturbing your rest. Be that as it may, I have something to announce. Tomorrow, we shall be diverging from our plan slightly as I have acquired some information that I need to...clarify. Rest assured, I shall be resting soon, as it has been a long day for both of us," he concluded crisply, slamming the window shut.
He strode back to the table with the papers, steeling his heart to ignore Nunnally's hurt and puzzled countenance.
The man crashed to the ground with an audible crack, limbs flailing as he struggled to get himself back up. He stumbled back up with a helping hand from his companion, glaring indignantly at his attacker.
Portland leered down impatiently at the insect that had bumped into him. Having just acquainted himself with the Tokyo Settlement, he had decided to visit the nearest bar to gather some more information about the goings-on in the settlement. The dimly lit interior giving off a pleasant, after-hours ambience had impressed Portland upon his entry - said impression broken upon bumping into this trio after just a few steps.
They looked like typical Britannian youths, arrogant and secure in their families' wealth and reputation. One was particularly giving off an overpowering musk of some sort of cologne, noticeable even amongst the scents emitted by the other patrons.
"Brats. Watch where you're going."
The man whom he'd bumped into made a threatening face. "Huh? I think you should be the one saying that, fatty! Why don't you watch where YOU'RE going, though I can see it's hard to see through all that fat clogging up your eyes."
Portland fixed the trio with his trademark, cold "Breaker" glare. A chill seemed to pass through the youths as they stood stock-still, seemingly dumbstruck by the man's gaze. The man grunted dismissively and did not take his eyes off the trio as he walked past them.
When did take his eyes off them, the trio seemed to come to and with muttered curses, dashed for the exit.
The whole bar was not oblivious to this development, and as he started to lean on the bar, he saw the bartender looking at him apprehensively.
"What'll it be, sir?" squeaked the bartender.
"Bartley's," came the reply.
As the bartender prepared his drink, Portland watched the other nearby patrons sidle silently off from their stools to seek other tables, not before giving him an apprehensive look.
"You new around here, sir?" The bartender's voice queried over the clink of glasses.
"Yes. Just came in express plane. Wanted to experience something better than the drabness the homeland offered, yet so far it seems like I've come back to the damn place."
The bartender nervously giggled as he placed prepared drink on the bar before the towering man. Portland grunted his thanks before taking a swig from his glass.
The Breaker saw and recognized full well what the bartender's nervous gaze meant, and he shrugged mentally as he fixed the man with his curious gaze. "What's the matter?"
"It's quite obvious what has the entire bar riled up, sir. That minor altercation back there was a rare sight, something you could only see in the seediest bars here. Those're places where they..." The bartender brought his voice low. "...Allow Elevens in. So, that's why you're getting all the looks, sir. That kind of near-brawl would've only been seen in places like that."
"I apologize for my roughness," The Breaker rumbled into his glass. "I've just been having some rough times."
"Ah well, it happens to anyone, eh sir?", the bartender made a waving gesture.
"Indeed it does. The name's Charles." Seeing the split-second shift in the man's face as he saw the proffered hand, Portland chuckled. "The name's quite common back in the homeland, mind you."
The bartender laughed in turn as he reluctantly took the man's hand. "True, true. One can't expect His Royal Majesty to just walk in to a little bar out here in Area Eleven, can't they?" The Breaker nodded jovially, eyeing the other patrons, who now seemed to have relaxed after watching this exchange.
As he finished his glass, he signalled the bartender for more. As the man fiddled behind the bar, Portland said, "I think I'll be visiting this bar frequently during my stay here. Nice ambience."
"You have excellent judgement, sir."
"So then, now that we're settled in. What can you tell me about Area Eleven?", the corpulent man leaned in as he spoke. "'Cause I think I'll be spending an eternity here, and I don't wanna miss out on anything," he continued with twinkling eyes.
Nunnally dreamed of swirling clouds of the most vivid of colors, coating her, surrounding her in their intensity. Within the swirls she could glimpse images from a forgotten past, of recorded instances of happier times.
Voices, a great multitude seemed to scream from somewhere behind her, though when she turned to look, she saw only clouds.
Yes, here she could see with full clarity. Here she could distinguish the colors that were real, unfabricated.
Here, she was free.
She flew among the clouds, soaring freely through a phantasmagoria of images. She was curious as to how these clouds would taste, so she reached out to the haze, but the colors would seem to recede from her hand, only to return as she removed it.
Again, she heard the voices, and again she could not see the source. Behind, above, below, to the sides....Where was the bottom here?
At this thought she felt herself fall down a great height, her arms flailing as she sought to fly once more. She felt a slight relief as she saw the clouds following her descent in a trail of rainbow.
For a time, she continued to fall and gradually she sensed herself slowing down, giving the clouds time to reform around her.
Then she looked up, and glimpsed a sickly yellow sun through a hole in the clouds. Its sight did not blind her, nay it only disgusted her. At this, the sun was hidden once more from her sight by the clouds.
Suddenly she felt herself being grasped by something strong behind her. She struggled and craned her head up to see.
drip
NO!
A wide-open mouth.
drip
I'M...
The mouth bristled with great, golden teeth. She felt something wet drop on her hair.
drip
The voices seemed to grow louder in volume now, a scraping sound echoing from a multitude of throats.
NII-SAMA...
She thought she could hear the thing speak in a hushed, excited voice as she felt its hot breath come closer.
drip
"minemineminemineminemine-"
drip
NII-SAMA!!!!!
From vividity, Nunnally woke to darkness. She was breathing heavily, and she heard her pants echo across the room. She kicked away the covers and rose to a sitting position.
"...Nii-sama?" she asked tentatively.
There was no answer. She felt beside her and found nothing, not even the lingering warmth that was the evidence of someone having slept there. She tilted her head as she felt with her remaining sense for her brother, but it seemed that there was one foregone conclusion.
He seemed to have left early, not even bothering to wake her. If she had to guess, it was something that had to do with his queer attitude last night, when he'd said those hurtful words.
She dived back into the covers and curled herself up. "Nii-sama, where are you?" She shivered even in the warmth. "...come back quickly, I need you nii-sama..."
Fort Guilliman, Bonaparte City
Sometime, late January
If you're wondering why there's been such a huge gap in time between this and the last entry, I can tell you that it all boils down to what had apparently happened to you almost a year back.
Heh, .... I think they must've injected me with Frenzy or something.
... basing from the last entries, the base was ready for a change in posts, since the Britannians don't seem to be threatening the Mediterranean anymore from Gibraltar.
They told me that it was reported as an accident. Some sort of crazy story about a leak. But I know better. As I've been telling the debriefers here in Bonaparte, watching their sceptical ... I can swear, it was a monster. It must have been something experimental coming from the Britannian robot-lovers. I mean, who else in the world has the capability of .
Now they're shipping this Ace to another airbase. Particularly somewhere remote, I can assume, where my story won't spark rumors. They also gave me a warning. ... That monster, that thing was responsible! Yep, you heard it here first!
... Everyone from the base. From Jean the "world-class chef" to sweet and deadly Jacqueline. Everyone's gone, and I ...
.... told me to live on. "There is another day!", he said ..... Why was I the only one .....
I swear to whatever gods are out there, smiling capriciously down on us. That monster must be brought to justice. Even if all I have with me is a shitty assault rifle. That thing, with the claws and the .... so, so sorry ....
(The rest of the entry is blurred, the ink looks like it had been washed out.)