Author's Gab: I'd initially wanted to post an April Fool's chapter (that's also very much relevant to the plot), but I spent too much time laughing from the jokes I saw throughout the intrawebs that I forgot about it altogether. .
"It appears we have new mission orders, Nun - Subject N."
The Lamperouges had been dwelling in their safe house as usual, waiting for the orders that had yet to come. Their first set of objectives had been cleared save of course for the last which amounted to: "Await packages detailing further objectives."
Lelouch woke up on that morning to find one such package delivered, a hefty box sitting innocuously outside the door. Mildly annoyed at this inconvenience - for it would not do to have the other tenants become suspicious of their new neighbors, the boy had then dragged the package into their room, its size being too much for the lean youth.
Once the room was safely locked, the package had been summarily opened, curiously closed by a series of padlocks that only opened upon the input of both their ID numbers. Inside, Lelouch had gasped at seeing at the very top a pile of small arms, complete with ammunition to boot. These he quickly stowed away somewhere in the room, deciding to worry about what to do with them later.
Further in were a some papers that contained new mission details and orders, vials of something that he did not want to guess, some more clothes for the both of them to wear, and then a portable two-way communication device. After another layer of plastic he saw exactly what had necessitated such a big box. It was a large machine, on which was attached a note: "For Subject N's personal use, here is the new prototype. Subject R. It is your duty to read up on the manual attached, and educate Subject N. on the device's use. Signed, R. Duran."
At the mention of that man's name, Nunnally had cocked her head thoughtfully, wondering what the scientist had meant by new prototype. If Lelouch had to guess, it might be another improvement made on that so-called Mind's Eye that Nunnally had to use, that revolutionary device that had allowed her to see the world with limited clarity once more.
After skimming through the rather thick manual, Lelouch then turned his attention to the mission orders, the ones that they would be forced to carry out. Indeed, Lelouch was amazed to find that despite the implied sense of being monitored, he was not being reprimanded in the least for his little foray into Ashford Academy. But perhaps they -
The boy's eyes widened at the first order, which said, "Read the manual that is currently attached," and the second one that also reinforced, "Don't read the subsequent orders without reading the manual first, because you won't understand them."
Looking mildly disbelieving, he had looked over at Nunnally, who was waiting patiently on the bed, then to the machine that had been sent, and sighed. More than his desire to have things done quickly was the thought of not inconveniencing his little sister any further. So thinking, he grabbed the manual and started reading.
Roughly an hour later, he had nearly gotten the gist of what the machine was intended to be. The machine, as he was now describing to Nunnally, was a miniatured operating machine that housed the Mind's Eye system. Aside from the machine's integration of the various systems, however, was a particular feature that left the both of them puzzled.
Apparently, Nunnally could now share in what Lelouch could be seeing through specialized glasses that had been made for him, each holding a powerful camera that would transmit data to the onboard machine and into Nunnally's device. The special glasses were described as "Miniature Factspheres" in the manual, and one in particular had been sent.
With a thick, metallic frame and orange-hued lens, the thing was stowed into a bag of miniature cameras which were also supposed to be attachable cameras intended for the Mind's Eye. Giving the glasses a test, they were both surprised to see it in action, with Nunnally being able to see wherever Lelouch turned his head.
And this feature had been the reason why the mission orders had demanded him to read the manual first, for the following orders were pertinent to such. In particular: "Subject R. will test the effectiveness of the new prototype Farseer lens in the Tokyo Settlement. It is also his responsibility to plant the included mini-cameras essential to the Mind's Eye in whatever tactical location he sees fit throughout the Settlement. The supply is currently limited, so Subject R. has to be careful in choosing proper locations. This will also test the effective range of the cameras..."
Clutching two of those little cameras between his fingers, he then promptly attached them to places in the room. He smiled faintly at Nunnally's reaction to seeing the room using the cameras set up.
The rest of the orders included the exhortation for Subject N. to start taking the prototype concentration drugs that would aid in Mind's Eye synchronization, (he was leery of the prospect of giving Nunnally unknown drugs) for Subject R. to start mapping out the Settlement, and to await further orders as usual.
After a thoughtful pause as he stared at the device that was on Nunnally's head, he stood and started to put on some of the new clothes that had been sent to them.
"Are you going to be carrying out the first objective, nii- S-S-Subject R.?"
He picked a particular black shirt that had the symbol of the human skull printed on the back, "Conditions have to be cleared as soon as possible after all..."
He picked up the devices that served as his end of the communication device and draped them over his head, hiding the wire that connected it to the reciever attached to his belt inside his shirt. Lastly, he put on the orange-colored glasses that was the new prototype, and was amused at how eagerly Nunnally had switched to his channel. Grabbing two handfuls of the miniature cameras and sticking them in his pocket, he made for the door.
"I'll be going then, Sub-", he paused. "Nunnally."
"Yes, have a safe trip, nii-sama."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, right? After all, you'll be seeing the same things as I do." He chuckled softly.
"You have a point, but still you have to promise to be careful, okay? I'll be very suspicious if you turn off the connection all of a sudden," she pouted.
"Don't worry, I'll be back before long, Nunnally," he said gently as he closed the door behind him.
"Pathfinder here. Just returned. Decelarate to Alert 1 monitoring."
With another beep, the exhausted head of General Affairs sighed and put away the comm device. He leaned back into the cushiony seat and eyed the menu that had been placed before him with dubiousness, the exotic foods listed there even more.
He was at a certain restaurant in the Settlement, having just concluded another one of his secretive incursions into the ghetto that surrounded it. For it was a known fact that the new Settlement that had been built over the majority of what was once the Japanese capital of Tokyo allowed only Britannians to live within its confines - barring of course, the natives who had ascended to Honorary Britannian status and the odd immigrant.
The rest of the subjugated "Elevens" were forced to live in the outside, in the ghettos and the surrounding places where the Britannians were not. His immediate duties had necessitated his clandestine expeditions into the heart of the ghettos, bypassing dozens of mini-communities of Elevens in the process of gathering information as was his goal. Now, he had recently just returned, and had chanced upon this restaurant on the way to his safe house.
As he sipped the proferred exotic coffee, his mind considered the information that he had recently gathered, deciding on which particular bit he would forward immediately to Portland, which he would again conceal until further notice, and which he would forward immediately, perhaps personally, to the siblings.
The information relating to the so-called "Code-R" project of course, fell in the foremost category, and the Innocence Breaker would have become suspicious if no new information about this particular project would be discovered by the man. As it was, the man honestly had little to go with, for the project was unfortunately stamped with the Imperial seal that undoubtedly implied its importance to at least one Britannian Imperial heir.
The second batch concerning the other project that he had stumbled upon also had its Imperial seal, though his inside source had been tight-lipped as to which heir it was. Lately, the man mused, his source from within this Britannian Knightmare R&D project had become increasingly paranoid, citing heightened security that greatly implied that the project was nearing some sort of breakthrough. Whatever it was, it meant that the two heads from his own project would have to simmer for a bit longer.
The third category was the fruit of his expeditions into the ghettos: the information on where particular rebel groups' headquarters were and what kind of fighting strength they would be in. The latter was largely superfluous, as the two had demonstrated time and again that not even an entire military base would be able to stop the Morgana once it had begun its rampage. But here, inside one of Britannia's most prized Areas, the necessity of hiding their activities was paramount, and was something that the man would consider on which rebel groups he would mark for the two. Small-time groups would be easily overlooked by the Britannians, but the mysterious loss of a particularly infamous and major group would spark off unwanted alerts. (The Britannians would have also been pleased of course.)
The man looked forward to a long, unhindered sleep for the next twenty-four hours, though it would be probably interrupted in a splendid fashion should the food that was now being placed in front of him decide to play fiddle on his bowels.
One slurp was all it took.
In one of the less reputable districts of the Tokyo Settlement, a certain orange-haired girl was walking along the meandering streets, inexplicably lost if the helpless expression on her face were any indication.
This part of the Settlement that she was in was close to the boundary that separated it from the outer ghettos, thus several establishments that catered to the Elevens' tastes could be found here. Many Honorary Britannians fresh from their day duties and those coming in for their night duties would congregate here at day's end, clogging the street and the shops where one looked.
Because of that fact, it was a rare - an extremely rare sight for a Britannian to make his or her way to this part of the Settlement. True, this place was still technically patrolled by the Knight-police, but places like these were a figurative death-trap for any innocuous-looking Britannian that had the unfortunate luck to enter.
Add the fact that fifteen-year old Shirley Fenette was a pretty and fresh-looking girl, and the odds of something untoward happening skyrocketed in this place.
"When I find them, I am so going to be giving them what for-", the girl muttered to herself, eyeing her surroundings warily like a rabbit that had found itself in a den of sleeping lions.
Shirley had been initially sent by her mother to pick up something that she had had made in a shop. Along the way, the girl had met her friends from the Academy. They promptly lengthened the girl's outing by inviting Shirley to join them.
Which would have been all well and good, had she been paying attention to where she was gradually going. Along a particularly busy street, Shirley had lost contact with her friends, and had made the mistake of rushing forward to search without getting her bearings. As such, before she realized it, she then found herself in this very area, teeming with the Honoraries that were either heading wearily home or rushing to their duties.
Without a cellphone, Shirley had no way of contacting her friends or family. She'd initially considered asking any Eleven passing through, but that would've definitely given herself off as a Britannian. A Britannian that had lost its way. In a sea of Elevens.
Truly, Shirley was in a big pinch.
Unbeknownst to the girl, some less-than benevolent glances were now being sent her way, though she did not seem to notice this scrutiny. The malicious eyes even now tracked her movements as their owners slowly converged in short order on the hapless girl.
"Going somewhere, miss?", Shirley stiffened at the voice, staring widely at the man who had addressed her. She saw more figures at the edge of her vision, sauntering closer to her, enclosing her like a net from the crowd.
Into her now desperate mind came scraps and bits of her childhood memories: in particular the warnings from her father to avoid talking to strangers, how to politely decline unknown offers, etc. were dredged from that murk. With instinct to guide her, she attempted to go around the man in front of her with haste, knowing (correctly) at some level that nothing good would come from these folks.
"Excuse me, but I have business..." she said in her best Eleven. The man grabbed her hand as she passed, dragging her roughly back to where she had been. A surprised sound issued from her mouth as she averted her eyes from the man.
"P-p-lease let me go..." She saw the group form a tighter knot around her, effectively sealing her escape.
"How rude, miss. And what, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet," leered the man in front of her.
"She's a Britannian after all," hollered one of them.
"A tasty looking one at that," agreed another. "Just look at that body..."
The men seemed to be ignorant to her pleadings as they forced her away from the street. Things were not looking good for the poor girl as she was dragged to the villains' hideout.
---"Hold, fiends!"
Out from the air dived an orange blur, delivering a swift drop-kick to the head of the man who was holding her. The man was knocked unconscious, knocking into his fellows whom were surprised at this development.
In quick succession, the mysterious figure knocked the other men out with strong, bone- cracking punches and whirlwind kicks. It was all over in seconds, and afterwards the man stood proudly in the midst of the bodies, hands on hips and sticking his chest out.
She stared with wonder at this orange-costumed man, broad-chested with bulging biceps and a cleft chin. As he stooped to help her up, she blushed to see him smile at her and say:
"Are you all right, my lady?"-----
"...right, my lady?" The men cackled.
Shirley was broken from her daydream by the pain of the man gripping her arm more tightly as he leered back at her. They were now in a secluded back-alley, silent save for the distant jumble and rumble of the twilight crowd from the street they'd just left. It was filled with the scent of rotting refuse and drying waste, and to the girl it was the single, most disgusting thing she'd ever smelled.
Perfect, the girl thought. To have a daydream at a time like that, what was I thinking? Should've been thinking of ways to escape, instead of cooking up that ridiculous-
"Hey, are you listening, lady?"
"She's probably out of it, like all of them are."
"Haha! That's so true!"
"Let's just get this over with, eh? I got places to go tonight."
"Hey hey, let's just take our time. If you want, you can finish early, so you can go."
They'd pushed her to the ground, forcing her to kneel on the rough-shodden floor. She heard the shuffle of clothes, and various jingling as one of the men kneeled at eye- level.
Frantic, she stared with confused, pleading eyes at the man. She could not even summon up her basic Elevens now, the words failing to reach her tongue in her fear.
The man in front of her laughed as he grabbed her shoulder roughly, ripping the sleeve.
ohpleaseohpleasenononono, she now thought desperately as she stared frightfully at the grinning faces above her. Anyone, help, please help me even someone in orange, someone help me, I'm scared, I-
"Wow, this one's got some nice titties."
Her mother's gift from two years ago already had its front unceremoniously ripped, exposing smooth, pale skin. In a daze, she heard the men whoop and watched the man's hand come close to her front, intent on stroking her-
"Oi, out of the way, mongrels."
Shirley heard a plonk and a grunt of pain as the faces that had been staring down at her now looked around in confusion at this new arrival. A few more sounds later, and the men spread out, allowing Shirley to see what was going on.
Through the legs of the man in front of her, she saw another one's, and watched as a leg rose to kick. After a dull crack, the man in front of her collapsed, and she finally saw who this stranger was. It was a lean, raven-haired youth, staring disdainfully at the men in front of him.
The most striking part, of course, were the strange glasses the man wore. They were orange-lensed and seemed to be too big for his face, obscuring some of his foregead and cheeks. The second were the over-large headphones on his head, tilted carelessly to the side as if he'd stopped listening to them for a moment. Then there was his body that, though lean and well-toned, couldn't possibly have been able to take down a number brawny men.
Yet take down he did, as Shirley watched the other men charge the youth in unison. The latter calmly took a step back, and she wondered if he was turning to run, but he seemed to have just picked up a plank from the garbage pile behind him. He now met the men's charge, knocking his weapon deep into the first's open belly.
Pirouetting, the stranger slammed the plank into the next one's face, earning a cry of pain from the victim as his eyes were assailed by splinters. The remainders who had seen this paused in their attack to watch the youth more warily as he broke the splintered plank in two, wielding them each in both hands.
She heard a sigh escape from hims as the stranger made his move, rushing at the nearest man and knocking him out with a quick flurry of strikes. He heard another sigh as he met the next one's charge, tripping him heavily into the ground. With only two left, it meant a few more successive strikes before all the men were knocked down, leaving the stranger to stand in the midst of it all, strangely looking very much annoyed in the aftermath.
She was about to rise and greet this stranger when she saw the man who had been tripped rise suddenly, delivering a fierce blow to the stranger's head. The action dazed the youth as his orange glasses clattered to the floor near her and his headphone dangled freely from his neck. The man's small success was short-lived, however, as the stranger quickly recovered and struck with his weapons.
"MONGREL!"
A bone-cracking sound later and the man was down on the floor again, head flowing from his head. With a sigh, the stranger discarded the weapons, and as he stooped to pick up his fallen glasses, his eyes met that of Shirley's.
For a brief moment as she stared at the handsome, scarred face (oh yes, he looked handsome) she felt a wave of revulsion wash over her at those weird-looking eyes that seemed to be sizing her up. The moment quickly passed, and the man rose to straighten himself up, looking very much like one of those Eleven delinquents he had just felled in that weird get-up of his.
What's with that skull? she thought idly as the man swiftly exited the alley with no last look in her direction. For long moments she just sat there, puzzling over this strange encounter with the strangely-dressed stranger, not a thought of quickly escaping from a situation she had been narrowly saved from entering her mind.
She was jolted to reality, however, when two uniformed members of the Knight-police ran in, one shouting "He's not here!". Afterwards, as she was escorted to her home by the Knight-police and watched as her mother ran out hurriedly to hug her in tears, she thought to herself: I've just been through the weirdest experience I've had yet, haven't I? A real life abduction, and an honest-to-goodness rescue. I don't know whether to be horrified or happy by this.
That night, Shirley Fenette dreamed of orange men in tight spandex, flying around under a gloomy, violet sun.
"I'm back, Subject R," the smooth, modulated voice of Nunnally came through his headphones. "The housekeeper was very polite. Did something happen while I was gone?"
"Nothing much," replied Lelouch as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just had a merry chase with some Knight-police types."
Indeed, they had been annoying, those Knight-police. Ever since one had accosted him as he was sauntering at a park, looking for a place to dump a camera, he had become leery of those arrogant uniformed people. He did not know why he drew all of their glares, and wondered why it was that two had threatened to even take him in. Those two he had lost somewhere in the outskirts of the Settlement, the place where he was just in.
"So how're the images coming along, Subject N.?" he asked.
"Satisfactory as of this moment, Subject R. It's a bit strange looking at all these places, it's like I'm doing..what was that again?...surveillance! Surveillance on the city.
I think that's what they might want you to do Nunnally, Lelouch thought.
"What's with this last place, Subject R.? I see Knight-police and some... are those bodies?!"
"Probably the Knight-police enforcing their 'glorious' and 'necessary' authority over the natives," he lied with a snort.
"That's horrible," came her voice through the phones. "I can't believe they would use their given powers like that."
"This is a Britannian colony after all, Subject N," sighed Lelouch as he neared his last destination. There was a sign before him, warning civilians not to pass, but he ignored that and clambered over. He advanced down the street, and saw that why there had been a warning.
Before him, the street terminated abruptly at a sheer end, and as he walked to the edge, Lelouch beheld before him ruined buildings, in sharp contrast to the ones behind him. Undoubtedly, he was looking into one of the ghettos, where he read that the natives were forced to live in, segregated from the Britannians in the Settlement.
For a moment, he beheld what had once been a district of the city where this Settlement had been built upon, where a proud nation's capital once functioned. Foremost in his emotions were faint pity and disgust. Pity for the 'Elevens' who had lost their home, disgust at the Britannians who had taken it from them.
Like a flash of lightning he remembered that solemn vow, illuminated by the light of a setting sun. A foolish memory of a purpose that should have been, that will never -he gritted his teeth- come to pass. The crumbling ruins in front of him seemed to serve as a testament to the boy - or was it a reflection of himself that he saw? Now discarding the half-forgotten memory into the shadows of his mind, he stuck the last of the mini-cameras into the warning sign as he left the area.
Behind him, lights within the ghetto flared up, faint and scattered in many places as far as his eye could have seen.
Leaning on a railing on a shopping mall in the Settlement, Portland lazily watched the orange sun sink slowly into the horizon, each centimetre of its descent shrouding the world more and more in darkness. As there was a cloudy overcast, there were no chances of the night being illuminated by the pale moon or the vibrant stars.
Portland enjoyed these types of sunsets a lot.
(Extracted from an anonymous web chatlog transcript)
***User "PuddINlovr" has entered the chat.***
[PuddINlovr]: hello...
[wingsofcc]: hi hi ^.^
[albinox241]: Wow, its rare to see the most enthusiastic members be late
[proflazer]: pHU(|1|\|9 L473!
[albinox241]: somethin happen?
[PuddINlovr]: work stuff like usual
[albinox241]: ah
[wingofcc]: omg u too? h5
[PuddINlovr]: so what were y'la talkin?
[albinox241]: nothin much, wondering wer u wer, stuff like that
[cat4fite]: and about that ridiculous britannian kiddy show
[PuddINlovr]: wat?
[wingsofcc]: .
[cat4fite]: with all its propaganda shit
[albinox241]: language
[Forklover]: hey language
[PuddINlovr]: wut
[cat4fite]: and all that damn preposteeerouusss thing about knightmares
[PuddINlovr]: o that, i kno that
[PuddINlovr]: on 2 thought i dont, not really watchin KIDDY shows at my age
[wingsofcc]: LOL
[albinox241]: lol
[um8sam]: Secret propganda aside, it's very well-animated, and has a decent plot
[cat4fite]: lol decent
[syorty]: DUDE, weve been over this
[PuddINlovr]: hey i dont c new girl/guy
[cat4fite]: lemme spell it for you
[wingsofcc]: she hasnt been on that often =[
[cat4fite]: plot is crap, any of palubra's could beat it
[albinox241]: that is true, from the logs, she's been on once or twice a month only
[cat4fite]: animation is crap with 90 percent being rehashed scenes
[PuddINlovr]: been almost a month now since her last
[cat4fite]: i swear i coulda seen the glasgow turn and be shredded by the main guy's guns for the nth time
[cat4fite]: thats
[cat4fite]: how
[cat4fite]: it
[cat4fite]: is
[proflazer]: (0/\/\B0 bR34|3R
[cat4fite]: ladies
[cat4fite]: and
[cat4fite]: ladies
[PuddINlovr]: so WAT were you talkin bout when i wasnt here
[PuddINlovr]: cause i sure as hell dnt wana think that talkin bout kid shows is all tht u can com up wd
[cat4fite]: we were talking bout the size of your behind, thats wat
[Forkover]: so anyway i got this new thing over here where i live
[albinox241]: cat, one last derogatory, and your out 4 a week
[cat4fite]: fine, ill shut up about how britannia is dominating the airwaves, AND the world
[Forkover]: clothy thing drapes over your back and when you lie down on it, you get this smooth feeling
[wingsofcc]: that's nice =)
[Forkover]: even when lying on something rough
[PuddINlovr]: sigh ive had enuff
[Forkover]: its been damn nice for sleepless nights on the lab
[PuddINlovr]: "Sometimes, I prance around the room with a towel around my chest, pretending that I'm married to the Emperor."
[albinox241]: ...
[wingsofcc]: o_o
[Forkover]: wat
[syorty]: ...
[brass]: ....
[fel3ti3var]: .....
[proflazer]: --- ||\|3\/\/ j00Z \/\/3r3 94'/ Phr0/\/\ 7|-|3 $74r7
[rollypolly]: ....................
[PuddINlovr]: wat? i just vented
[albinox241]: suuuuure you did
[syorty]: so wich of the consorts do u imagine urself as?
[Forkover]: dude, SHE's his own consort
[cat4fite]: Fork, you know tat was a pretty stupid sentence, ryt?
[wingsofcc]: anything you'd like to tell us pudd? -_-;
[PuddINlovr]: guys im just venting
[PuddINlovr]: srsly
[cat4fite]: pretty sure dats what we all do yep yep
[albinox241]: 'normal' guys dont vent like that
[PuddINlovr]: its lyk
[PuddINlovr]: a hard day at work
[Forkover]: my story was totally better
[PuddINlovr]: u get home
[PuddINlovr]: unwind
[brass]: ur dress?
[cat4fite]: when i get home, i switch on the news to see what else the brits r up 2
[PuddINlovr]: log in2 daily chat channel
[PuddINlovr]: u c how bad dscussion s goin
[albinox241]: we were discussing you too, does that count?
[wingsofcc]: =P
[PuddINlovr]: and then u say something lyk that
[PuddINlovr]: feels goooood man
[proflazer]: Ph33L5 94444'/
[PuddINlovr]: no srsly try it
[rollypolly]: no srsly i wont
[PuddINlovr]: u wont b disappointed
[albinox241]: we are all disappoint
[PuddINlovr]: just say "Sometimes, I prance around the room with a towel around my chest, pretending I'm married to the Emperor."
[Forkover]: dude no
[cat4fite]: u wont catch me doing that
[cat4fite]: if anything i wont be any tyrant's bitch
[PuddINlovr]: or just some other variant
[wingsofcc]: "Sometimes, I rub mayonnaise all over myself and roll around in the bed."
[cat4fite]: ROFL
[PuddINlovr]: LOL
[albinox241]: et tu?
[PuddINlovr]: see?
[Forkover]: damit
[rollypolly]: "Sometimes in a crowded room, I fart in the most silent of manners, watching with silent delight as others start looking at each other with hostility.'
[brass]: fffff
[albinox241]: "I delight in praising myself before the shower."
[Forkover]: what d heck was that
[cat4fite]: "I thought 'Revenge of the Titans' was pretty cool."
[Forkover]: dude
[brass]: "When no one's looking, I sometimes stick my pen down there to scratch stuff..."
[syorty]: "I have a bath towel I call Bob."
[Forkover]: srsly?
[PuddINlovr]: dude, try it
[PuddINlovr]: itll make u feel better
[Forkover]: like hell i will
[proflazer]: "1 b3(0/\/\3 31573|\|714L \/\/|-|1L3 1'/\/\ 1|\| 7|-|3 p07."
[Forkover]: arrrg
[wingsofcc]: :-#
***User "WS4life" has entered the chat.***
***User "Ganymeluv" has entered the chat.***
[Forkover]: "In the morning, I look at the fresh eggs with lust in my eyes."
[WS4life]: I now remember why I rarely come here.
[Ganymeluv]: TMI
***User "WS4life" has left the chat.***
[PuddINlovr]: LOLOL
[brass]: OH DAMN HE SAW IT
[Ganymeluv]: that is NOT what i expect to see after a shitty day
(end extract)