Room 277
Tokyo Settlement International Hotel
"C.C…" Lelouch began, tilting his head to look over his shoulder at the green-haired woman. "Can I ask you something?"
"I'm too old for you, Lelouch," she responded dismissively, barely looking up from her position lying on the couch.
"Tch."
C.C. made no reply, ignoring him only to turn one of the pages of the book she held directly above her face, arms at full stretch. It was just the two of them in the apartment now: Shirley had taken Jeremiah and Kanon to book another room and settle them in, while Suzaku had left to make his way back to the Black Knights.
Lelouch's interest was piqued. He stood up from the bed and crossed the room to look down at her, plucking the book out from her hands and examining the front cover. "Yesterday it was philosophy; the day before it was a romance novel. Today, baby names? Will it be war tactics or poetry tomorrow? Mathematics or art?"
"Don't patronise me, Lelouch," she replied, staring blankly at him. "It won't work; I know you too well."
"Perhaps you do. Could somebody like you even bear children?" He handed the book back to her.
C.C. turned straight back to her book. "Who knows? It's nothing like that, anyway."
"Then answer my question."
"What is it this time, Lelouch?" she asked with a slight sigh. "You know more than me."
"You and I both know that's not true." He turned to stare out the window.
C.C. turned the page again. "If you say so."
Lelouch rolled his eyes and walked away from her, coming to a stop a few inches away from the window. Ants still scurried around below him, though fewer in number than before as darkness began to replace the sun's rays. He would have to go meet Kallen soon: a conversation he was both looking forward to and hesitant about.
Kallen would be the first of the Black Knights he would tell everything to. Shirley and C.C. had known since before his death, of course, and Suzaku had been the one with whom he had originally planned Zero Requiem, but he had been forced to keep Kallen in the dark. She and Tōdō were the linchpins keeping the Order of the Black Knights – and hence the public – trusting in Zero, since he was sure that Kallen would realise his motives and that Tōdō would recognise Suzaku. With Suzaku leading them on hopelessly and Schneizel sure to leave them broken, but alive, the conditions would be cleared for Schneizel to believe he was ultimately victorious.
An aeroplane flying near their building drew him out of his thoughts. "C.C., what is Geass?"
"…Coralia…Corinthia…Cornelia…Coventina…"
So she had decided to ignore him again. How like her. Persistently, he pressed on. "What is the nature of Geass?"
"What are you really asking?" She was facing him now and staring into his eyes.
"I want to know why Shirley's and Rivalz' Geasses are so different from the others I've come across," he admitted. "Every Geass' power is related to the mind. Why are those two so different?"
C.C. continued to stare at him curiously for a moment, before letting out a quiet laugh. "Every Geass, Lelouch? You are still as arrogant as ever. Of the countless people I have entered into contracts with over my lifetime, you know of only a few."
She closed her eyes for a moment, setting her book down on the ground next to her. Her arm hung limply over the side of the couch as she opened her eyes once more and stared blankly at the ceiling. "For hundreds of years, I was the only person in the world with a Code. Did you know that, Lelouch? No, I suspect you didn't. The Power of the King is rarely kind; yours is among the most powerful I have ever seen."
"The first person I ever entered into a contract with was a young farmer boy whose name I cannot remember. His Geass had the power to make things grow. Our country was barren in those days; farmers were struggling and the world was decaying from poverty. He always smiled, though, travelling from one village to the next and doing what he could. But Geass was not something people could understand in those times, either. He was killed for practising sorcery two months after receiving that power."
Lelouch made to interrupt, but fell silent as she continued.
"The second person I gave a Geass to was an aristocrat: royalty wanting to escape royalty. His Geass stopped his heart the first time it was activated, but he died with a smile on his face. Years later, I gave a Geass that blinded somebody permanently in both eyes. Another allowed an old fisherman to control the winds."
She picked her book back off the ground and dropped it again, having lost the desire to continue reading it. "But that's in the past, now."
"If you were the only person in the world with a Code, how could V.V. have received his?" Lelouch asked, still facing the window. His gaze shifted slightly, staring up at the full moon instead of the streets below. He wasn't quite ready to accept her story as truth yet.
"Geass manifests differently in every person, you know that," she began slowly. "Vance was always a special child…"
"Vance? V.V.?"
"Yes. That was his name before he took on a code. He was a Vi Britannia once, just like you," she added with a smirk.
Lelouch pretended the knowledge didn't faze him, turning around to meet her gaze. "What are you trying to say?"
"I gave V.V. his code."
"Liar," he responded immediately, ignoring the brief expression of hurt that flashed across her features. "That would have killed you."
"Such arrogance again. You never learn, do you?" she asked, seemingly amused. "I told you that Geass manifests differently in every person. In V.V. it was unlike any I had seen before."
Lelouch's eyes widened as he finally began to understand. "You're saying that V.V.'s Code was his Geass?"
"Yes, that's right," C.C. confirmed. "Charles wasn't experimenting to build an invincible army of Geass-users; he was trying to collect more Codes to power the Sword of Akasha."
'That twisted man,' Lelouch silently fumed. Still, he supposed that his father's experimentation had made his plans all the more reachable in the long term. "What does this have to do with Shirley and Rivalz?"
"Who knows? Figure it out for yourself." With that, she rolled onto her side and faced the back of the couch, presumably falling asleep.
Lelouch grimaced. He'd pushed her too hard again. He'd probably have to make it up to her for that 'liar' comment earlier, too. Maybe he'd pick up a pizza for her on the way back. For now, however, he had to meet with Kallen.
Making as little noise as possible, so as not to disturb C.C., he collected the briefcase containing his Zero costume and, casting a single look back at her sleeping form, left the building.
"…Stupid Lelouch."
Shinjuku Wrecking Yard
Kallen waited nervously behind the small, one-room office of the wrecking yard's manager. It was 9:45 PM, fifteen minutes before Zero had requested she meet with him. In truth she had been there for over an hour already, curious as to whether or not Zero would attempt to set anything up in advance. At least, that was what she kept trying to tell herself. In reality, she knew that her anxiety had brought her there; this was the conversation that would either restore or damn not only her most sincere hopes and dreams, but also her life.
Refrain was not treating her kindly. It had been nine days since she had injected back near the base of Babel tower – that place which contained her and Lelouch's combined shame, and which had almost become a mausoleum for everything they had once strived towards. The pain was worse than ever, now. Her veins occasionally prickled to let her know that her blood was unsatisfied with her refusal to submit to their desire for her dependency, a constant ache pervading her system and relentlessly intensifying as she drew out the period of time between injections.
'I won't go back on my word. That was the last time I will ever use refrain. If this doesn't save me…' Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back as she stared up at the full moon. 'Sorry, everyone. I can't submit to that poison any longer.'
'At least then I won't have to deceive them about being alive any longer,' she thought solemnly. The back of her coat crumpled against the rough brick wall as she slowly slid down to lean against it in a sitting position, the material catching for a moment and leaving a slight tear.
It had been much harder than anticipated to survive without drawing attention to herself after having her death faked. She couldn't expose her face anywhere, due to her fame as the Ace pilot of the Order of the Black Knights. Nor could she cover herself too extremely: the luxury of perfectly concealing clothing, such as cloaks and masks, was something which was not afforded to anybody in these parts who wished to fly under the radar, due to the Black Knights' vigilance in investigating suspicious figures.
Money was another issue. Shirley had given her some of the 'emergency' cash she apparently kept on her at all times, but even combined with the cash in her own wallet, it was barely enough to cover the cheapest accommodation and food until the night Zero had asked her to meet him. Seedy markets in the ghetto had been her main source of sustenance, while a poor old couple in the most poverty-stricken area of the ghetto provided the hooded figure of Kōzuki Kallen with a short-term room to wait out the last few days of refrain withdrawal in exchange for some desperately-needed cash – no questions asked.
But none of these things compared to the pain she felt from running away and leaving the Black Knights to believe that she had died. Ōgi would have taken it even harder than he had when Naoto had died. Fear and guilt had consumed her mind as she sat in her room, day after day. Every now and again she would foolishly decide to attempt to launch her own surveillance of the Black Knights, just to make sure that Ōgi wasn't going to do anything stupid.
Those thoughts were the kind that were likely to get her caught, though, so they were ruthlessly squashed. It was unlikely that she'd be able to do such a thing in her current state, anyway, so there was little for her to do but continue to hide. Ōgi had Villetta to care for him and a child to care for. Hopefully, that would be enough to keep him anchored.
For what seemed like the millionth time, she cursed her body for failing; she cursed Luciano Bradley, who had originally subjected her to refrain; and she cursed herself for not being strong enough to break free from it. If only the constant aches and pains would disappear, she could fight once more. If only she had her reflexes back, she could pilot the Guren – her Guren – again. All this time she'd been able to feel her abilities, locked away and hidden somewhere amongst the fog refrain had inflicted upon her mind. If she could just fight off refrain for a moment, she knew she could reach them once more.
More than anything, she needed the hope that Zero – no, Lelouch – could inspire within her.
"Kōzuki Kallen."
A powerful shiver ran down her spine at the booming voice of her leader. She slowly rose to her feet, silently berating herself for becoming so wrapped up in her thoughts that she'd missed his arrival completely. Any frustration she felt with herself was immediately overpowered by her own anxiety, however. There was something different about this meeting; she could feel it. It was something Zero had been missing for a long time. She knew without even looking at her watch that he had addressed her exactly as the hour struck.
Silence hung in the air as she slowly stepped around to the front of the office. He seemed to see no need to address her further, so certain was he of his ability to draw her to him. She half hesitantly, half desperately moved towards the place she remembered meeting Zero once before. The man had a flair for the dramatic, after all.
A loud click echoed around the area as two floodlights came to life – one illuminating her own position and one pointed at a figure standing regally atop the roof of an old car.
"...Zero," Kallen whispered almost reverently, feeling her knees weaken slightly in his presence.
Zero appeared to regard her for a moment before he spoke. "Kallen, it is good to see that you are doing well. Thank you for coming here tonight."
'Doing well? I wouldn't call a Refrain addiction doing well.' Kallen frowned slightly, but remained silent. 'Could Shirley have not told him? She hadn't known before we last talked, but that would mean she–'
"I have brought you here tonight because I know this is a place from your past that holds deep meaning for you," he continued, breaking her out of her thoughts. "This is the place where, years ago, you realised that you did not need an army to accomplish your goals – that if you cooperated with me I could make your dreams a reality."
"Dreams?" she repeated to herself. It was almost like he was teasing her – hinting that he could give her what she needed to throw away the crutch of Refrain once and for all, but never explicitly confirming it.
"I tell you this now because I will need you to trust me once more as you did then. It does not take a thousand men to topple an empire, so long as your sword is sharper than theirs."
"Why me, Zero? I'm useless now. Everybody knows that! I can't even pilot the Guren anymore!" Anger welled up inside her – anger at herself for not being everything Zero needed and more. She fell to her knees weakly. "I'm nothing anymore, thanks to Refrain."
"If that is how you respond, then Schneizel has truly won," Zero's voice boomed back, startling her. "Find your resolve! Remember what it was that once drove you – the dreams you have given up on. There is much to do if we are to wage this war for the world and I will need you by my side if we hope to win."
"Win?" Kallen's lip began to tremble. Zero still believed they could win. But that was impossible, wasn't it?
He didn't respond, seemingly content to allow her to process it herself.
"Can we really win, Zero?" she eventually asked, hope and defeat battling for dominance in her tone.
"We are already winning!" he proclaimed, his arms flying out to his sides until they were level with his shoulders, palms upturned. "The only thing that can kill Schneizel is his own ambition. I have given him the world and now I shall take it back!"
It was him! Every part of her screamed that there could only be one man behind that mask. A crushing force bore down on her at the thought of facing him once more, but she slowly managed to rise to her feet.
"I need to know..." she began in barely more than a whisper. "I need to know..."
She looked up, eyes blazing for the first time in many months.
"...Is it you, Lelouch?"
The silence seemed to drag on for hours as he stared at her. She stared back at first, but her conviction slowly decayed into doubt. What if she'd been wrong about Lelouch being Zero? What if it was still Suzaku again? What if it was somebody she had never met before and to whom she'd just betrayed the secret of Lelouch's false tyranny?
Just as her fear and doubt were about to overwhelm her, Zero finally moved. Kallen could only watch with bated breath as he slowly moved his right hand to the centre of his mask and grasped it firmly. She could hear the mechanism releasing in the silence of the night, but he kept it covering his face for a moment.
"What would you do if it was, Kallen?" he asked sombrely, before removing it completely.
None of her dreams – none of the hundreds of different scenarios that had played out in her head over the past week and a half since Zero had requested she attend this meeting had prepared her for the shock she felt at seeing him again, very much alive.
"Le…Lelouch…"
In an instant she had collapsed onto her knees once again, those piercing purple eyes of his driving her back to the ground with the sheer power they radiated.
The Prince – no, the Emperor– remained silent and still, neither a frown nor a smile marred his features.
Suddenly, something snapped within her. The questions that she had been secretly longing to ask since the moment Zero landed in front of him, sword in hand, were spilling out of her mouth in a flood of emotion.
"What are you playing at, Lelouch? I thought I understood you when you died – Planning your own death for the sake of the world. But everything was fake! You faked your death and left us anyway!" She was shouting now, eyes glistening with tears. "Why, Lelouch? We needed you! Why did you leave us? Why did you leave me?"
Even her knees buckled beneath her now, leaving her crumpled on the dirt, tears streaming down her face.
Lelouch watched her emotionlessly for a moment, before turning his gaze to the moon once more.
"Ah…Why indeed."
2009 a.t.b
Pendragon Palace
Lelouch Vi Britannia, 17th in line for the throne, stared unblinkingly at the marble floor as several attendants fussed over him. It was a standard procedure amongst children of the Emperor: whilst they all lived primarily with their respective mothers – Charles' consorts – they were required to periodically spend a few days living at Pendragon Palace for appearances' sake.
How often they were required to visit was at the discretion of the Emperor. Clear favourites and likely successors such as Schneizel and Odysseus would visit weekly, while lesser-known princes and princesses were required less than monthly, much to the chagrin of some of the more ambitious consorts. The likes of Lelouch, Cornelia and Clovis made the trek to the palace for the same four days of each fortnight, being lower-profile, yet still within reach of the throne.
A year ago, the timing of their visits was seemingly random. Lelouch might pass by Euphemia as he arrived at the palace, farewell Clovis two days later and be informed by Nunnally that he'd just missed Odysseus' arrival as he left his rooms for breakfast. In recent months, however, he found that their visits would often coincide with that of Clovis and the Li Britannia sisters. Schneizel and Odysseus had grown to live almost full time at the palace, their respective mothers being all too happy to allow them to gain the Emperor's favour.
He was auditioning them – that much had been clear to Lelouch for a while. For what, he wasn't quite sure yet. It was possible that he was searching for his successor, but somehow he was unconvinced of that being his father's immediate goal.
Regardless, every day saw at least a few chess games take place between the young strategic titans of the Britannian royal family. Lelouch would generally beat Cornelia, but could never overcome Schneizel. Nunnally could occasionally beat Euphemia, but Clovis would always prove too much for her. Day by day their strategic abilities were honed and potential candidates for the throne began to shine out from the rest.
The strong grew closer to Charles and the weak were gradually forgotten about, Lelouch mused. He'd always known that was what his father believed, so it came to him as no surprise. He and his father had spoken occasionally over the past few months, but their conversations were few and far between, usually containing nought but a few – admittedly very useful – chess tips. Schneizel met with the man far more often, however; on a particularly active week they might do so two or three times. It was always in private, of course, but nobody ever asked what they talked about for varying reasons – not the least of which being fear of reprisal.
Lelouch coughed as a particularly forceful attendant tugged at his cape, causing the string to dig into his neck. It was different this week. Schneizel was meeting with the Emperor every night for hours at a time, with none of the subtle mentions of such a meeting to his siblings during the day. Schneizel's chess had improved phenomenally for such a short time, too. It was as though his half-brother had suddenly become invincible: no matter how much of the older boy's defence Lelouch would ruthlessly crush, he found it almost impossible to check Schneizel's King, let alone checkmate it.
Another tug – this time on his cheek to apply some foundation close to the corner of his mouth – and he had finally had enough, jumping up and bolting for the door amid frantic shouts for him to come back. He was still a young boy, after all, and no more enjoyed wearing makeup as he did playing dolls with Euphemia, prince or not. The formal robes he was already wearing were more than enough for him to meet with his sister at any rate.
He knew that Cornelia would be there when he entered the expansive, yet Spartan room. His current status as a permanent resident of Pendragon Palace meant he was acutely aware of all comings and goings. He was the only current permanent resident in recent history, save for the Emperors themselves, but he could hardly count it as a sign that he was in his father's favour. It was more likely that the man simply didn't know what else to do with him while Nunnally was in hospital receiving treatment that would hopefully restore her eyesight and lower-body motor function.
A week ago his mother had died, leaving his sister crippled and his own mind twisted with rage. His father was the Emperor of Britannia, the most powerful man in the world! He should have been able to protect her – to at least protect Nunnally! His own chess ability had skyrocketed in the past few days, he acknowledged as Cornelia gave him a knowing nod and stood from her position reading on a couch to set up a chess set. His previously more relaxed style was quickly being overrun by a more aggressive and cunning style.
Unorthodox moves and tactics that all but the world's greatest chess masters were wary of attempting littered his regular repertoire. His sword was many times sharper and his shield was serrated, traps scattered all across the board ready to ruthlessly dismember any opponent foolish enough to spring one.
Cornelia could no longer hold a candle to him. In their first game, Lelouch took advantage of her distinctive shape and barrelled straight through her flank, his King leading the charge. The second wasn't much better, but at least she had been able to capture a few of his more valuable pieces before he checkmated her from within her own fortress.
An hour later she returned to her book on the couch and he lay down on the carpet near her, both acknowledging that they were unlikely to gain anything by continuing. A book lay open in front of him – something about Chinese military tactics – but the book itself disinterested him. Instead, several chess pieces from the games he had just played against Cornelia lay on the book's pages. Some stood up, while some lay down; a couple had even rolled off and now rested on the floor. There didn't seem to be any particular order to them, but that was the way Lelouch preferred it: he had dropped them there deliberately, after all.
Chess was a game of war, but no scenario on the chessboard could resemble war the way this could. Some pieces stood, some fell and some weren't even a part of it. Every time he looked at the model he had made, he felt an urge to stand all of the fallen pieces back up - a feeling he never got in the game of chess, where broken pieces were discarded and forgotten about, while the player's full attention was on his healthy and useful pieces.
That was the problem with Britannia. Not by any means was it the only problem, but it was certainly the thing Lelouch Vi Britannia loathed the most about his country. If Nunnally's disabilities couldn't be healed, then Britannia's world would never be a world where she could survive.
Cornelia was still there when he finally looked up from his current inspiration, though she had spun around to lie on the couch facing in the opposite direction. She informed him that Euphemia and Clovis would likely show up within the next half an hour, the latter of the two having taken the former for tea upon her arrival at the palace with Cornelia. Lelouch mumbled his thanks and rolled onto his back to stare blankly at the giant portrait of his father spanning the room's entire ceiling; he and his half-sister had spent enough time together over the last few years not to require anything further of each other and to enjoy the companionable silence.
True to her word, Euphemia ran through the doorway ten minutes later and bolted towards her two siblings awkwardly, seemingly in two minds as to which she should hug first. Unexpectedly, Lelouch won out this time: the older sister who doted on her so much was almost always the first to get her attention. Question after question tumbled out of her mouth about how he was, how worried she'd been for him after hearing about what happened to Marianne and whether Nunnally would be all right. Clovis smiled knowingly at him from the doorway as Lelouch unsuccessfully tried to calm the frantic Euphemia.
Though he made a brief effort to allay his half-sister's fears, his mind was elsewhere. As he had glanced up to meet Clovis' gaze, he'd seen Schneizel passing by the doorway behind him, face resolute and steps measured. The room they were in was near the southernmost tip of the castle, where access was limited, with the Emperor's private rooms being the only other notable location beyond it.
'So Schneizel is visiting Father once again, is he?' Lelouch mused silently. He slowly removed Euphemia's hands from his face, the girl having realised he wasn't paying her his full attention. His older brother and father were clearly planning something and he intended to find out what it was.
"Sorry, I..." He hesitated slightly. "I have to check on Nunnally."
Euphemia gave him a kind smile as he stood and made his way to the door. Clovis gripped his shoulder for a moment and nodded as they passed in the doorway, his older brother moving towards a seat near Euphemia. He took slow steps – though not slow enough as to draw more attention – and when nobody was still looking, he turned left instead of right.
Lelouch's eyebrow's narrowed. It was subtle, but he could have sworn he'd seen Cornelia look at him suspiciously as he'd announced his exit. Had she seen Schneizel too? He was fortunate that there was so much pressure within the royal family not to interfere with the Emperor's business: even if she had seen him head towards their father's rooms or suspected him of doing so, she would be unable to act upon it. If she had seen Schneizel, she couldn't have known whether they were working together or he was spying; if she hadn't seen Schneizel, Lelouch may very well have had an appointment of his own with the Emperor.
Keeping his footsteps as close to silent as possible, he steadily moved forward and took in the enormity of this wing of the palace. Britannian Emperors had always had an eye for grandness, from their ballrooms to their private living quarters. It was as though he was steadily shrinking as he left the central area of the castle: the hallways could have comfortably fit two knightmares side by side with room to spare and the ceilings were several stories high, large chandeliers hanging at regular intervals.
He hesitantly risked a peek through two majestic white doors at the end of the corridor to make sure he hadn't accidentally caught up to his older brother. There were no staff in this area of the castle during these hours: all cleaning was done on a strict schedule to minimise inconvenience to the Emperor. Finding the room thankfully empty, he slipped through the doors and slowly closed them behind him.
This room was one of the most sacred areas in the entire palace. No journalists or photographer had ever been allowed access and it was even frowned upon for consorts and heirs to enter without their presence being requested. This was the Hall of Emperors, a private ballroom where the achievements of every Britannian Emperor to have lived were honoured.
The room itself was circular in shape, marble floor gleaming from the light entering the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking His Majesty's private gardens. At the far end of the room were two marble staircases leading up to a large balcony which encircled the room from the floor above. In the centre of the room sat a pristine grand piano, its brilliant white finish edged with gold.
But what really gave the room its name were the dozens of portraits that adorned the walls. Lelouch didn't need to count to know that there were ninety-seven in total – one for every Emperor of Britannia. It was a rule that no two portraits in the entire room were to ever be the same size. When an Emperor died or relinquished the throne, he would have his accomplishments judged by his successor and his portrait in the Hall of Emperors would be sized to reflect his worth compared to his predecessors.
Lelouch found the tradition distasteful, but would not have held such disdain for it were it not for the way that he knew each Emperor's deeds to be assessed. Never was any consideration given to how much the world – or even just the people of Britannia – had benefited from their reign; what was valued was increasing the nation's military strength, land and power. Things may have been different a long time ago, but in the past couple of centuries it was the militant and ruthless Emperors who were celebrated the most in history books and, indeed, in this hall.
But it was not this room in which he sought his answers. At the top of the staircases was another set of double doors, leading to his father's bedroom. Slowly, with feet shaking but miraculously remaining silent, he made his way to the door and crouched down beside it, thankful that it had been left slightly ajar and he could look through the crack. He couldn't see his father or Schneizel directly, but could clearly make out their flickering silhouettes on the wall against the golden glow of the fire. A chess board sat between them and, though Lelouch was unable to see which piece was which colour, the board had been reset, so he would be able to tell where they were based on their approximate position.
"Have you put any more thought into the question I posed to you last night?" Charles asked, his low growl reverberating around the room.
Schneizel hesitated for a moment. "It is a difficult question."
"It's a difficult lesson," the Emperor countered, standing from what Lelouch knew to be one of two red leather armchairs on opposite sides of a chess board. The soft clink of glass echoed slightly as one of the many expensive bottles of whiskey sitting on the mantelpiece was opened and used to fill two glasses, ice scooped from the small bucket that always sat next to the table when his father played chess.
Schneizel accepted the glass that his father placed on the table with a nod, but did not move to touch it yet. Instead he moved one of his Pawn forwards a space and the two settled into a silent, yet relaxed game.
While Lelouch was unable to see their expressions, he could tell from the board position that his father was completely in control of the game. His father's strategy seemed to be more of a test than an attempt to immediately force a surrender. Every few moves he would occasionally probe one of Schneizel's defences or cautiously spring one of his traps before reverting to a more defensive position.
Just short of twenty minutes later, Charles called a stop to their game. There were still several pieces left on each side and no check was evident in the next few moves, but he had clearly seen something that assured him of his victory should the game continue. He leant back in his seat and lifted the glass to his mouth.
Schneizel followed suit steadily after resetting the board. It was hard to tell from Lelouch's position outside the door, but it looked like he was examining the board, likely conducting his own analysis of the game before his father shared his views.
"I would like to hear your answer now," Charles said, confusing Lelouch. His had never failed to analyse a game immediately afterwards when they played together. "The most important thing you must know as a Britannian prince is how to take a dominant chess strategy and turn it into a dominant war strategy. Everything comes down to what your pieces mean to you."
Schneizel took another sip of whiskey, head tilted down towards the board. "The Rooks and Bishops are war machinery. They can cause a lot of damage and don't all move in the same ways, but the enemy can usually anticipate most moves involving them. They are not useful for sneak attacks or delicate situations."
He must have sensed approval from Charles, because he continued. "Knights are the more unusual assets at your disposal. A group of knightmare pilots, a missile your opponent isn't aware you possess, a covert operation to achieve a specific goal or even a hostage. They are much harder to predict and must be dealt with immediately by an opponent once they become aware of them."
"The Queen is, of course, the most physically powerful and regularly useful asset you possess – a third generation knightmare frame, for example." He picked up a Pawn and stared at it momentarily, before setting it back down on the board. "The Pawns are the faceless masses whose job it is to probe the enemy's defences and provide just enough resistance to allow the more powerful pieces to move defend the King without risk to themselves. They can be easily sacrificed to capture a more powerful enemy piece."
"A Pawn can become a Queen, too, but those with potential will often find themselves in the situation in which to do so of their own accord. There is no need to waste time and effort developing them personally," he added.
"A good answer," Charles growled with a pair of slow claps. "Not brilliant, but good. You have forgotten a piece, however."
"The King?" Schneizel queried serenely, sounding unconcerned that he had neglected it.
"Yes."
"The King represents myself," he answered confidently. "I am the most important piece on the board: if I die, my side loses."
Charles let out a harsh laugh. "Then why be the King?"
The gears in Lelouch's brain were spinning rapidly, as were those in Schneizel's, since he had not responded by the time Charles continued. "Some might say that the weakness of the King is his inability to move fast or far, but his true weakness is his mortality. The fact that the King can die means that the best and most powerful leaders must take on the role of the player, who cannot be harmed by any piece on the board."
Schneizel lifted his King off the board and held it in the glow of the fire, turning it around in his hands and clearly deep in thought. "Then if you can make your enemy think they've killed you by letting them kill your King, you've already won.
"That's right," Charles confirmed, clearly pleased that his favourite son had caught on so quickly. "You will make a fine Emperor one day. But before that, there is something I require."
"What is that?" Schneizel asked, perhaps a little too quickly. Then again, it wasn't every day you were endorsed by the Emperor as his likely successor."
"War," Charles replied gravely. "There are certain countries which I desire to assimilate into the Holy Britannian Empire."
Lelouch's eyes narrowed. This conversation had suddenly taken a far more sinister turn than he had been expecting.
"You are a promising heir, Schneizel," Charles continued. "Which is why I will be giving you a test, the outcome of which is crucial to my plans."
Schneizel finished off the last sip of his whiskey, seeming to have relaxed slightly. "What will the test involve?"
"In just over a year, you are to lead the invasion of Japan, a country with significant quantities of Sakuradite. You will receive the aid of the Knight of One, your choice of two of the other Knights of Round, as well as a significant percentage of my main army. If you are successful, you will retain both the services of that army and that of one of your chosen Knights of Round."
"I would be honoured, father," Schneizel asked, his silhouette quickly standing to make a low bow. "But I must ask: what of the others? Lelouch, Cornelia and Odysseus are very strong in their own rights."
Charles motioned for him to take his seat once more. "Odysseus is a strong tactician, but he is all too easily manipulated by others; he lacks the cunning required of an Emperor. Cornelia shows great promise, but she will never be on your level."
"And Lelouch?"
"Lelouch will become a brilliant strategist one day, but he can no longer lay any claim to the throne."
Schneizel sounded confused when he spoke. "Why is that, Father?
Dozens of possibilities ran through Lelouch's mind, from Charles not being his real father to obscure rulings in Britannian law. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for his father's next words.
"The injuries Nunnally has sustained are severe. She will never walk again, nor will she ever see."
Lelouch scrambled backwards on the marble floor, eyes wide in terror and too shocked to shed any tears. The bottom had fallen out of Lelouch Vi Britannia's world. Nunnally was crippled now. Nunnally would never walk. Nunnally would never see. Surely there was something his father could do for her! He had the best medical professionals in all of Britannia at his disposal. He wouldn't just forsake her completely!
"It would be a sign of weakness to our enemies for a member of the royal family to be in such a condition," Charles continued, oblivious to the raw fury building in his most dangerous son. "I have no other option other than to make full use of her while I can as a bargaining chip with other countries."
Just like that? Her own father was going to give her away as a political prisoner, without a care in the world as to how she would survive? He would have stormed in that second to confront the man, but he managed to barely suppress his rage: he could do nothing for his little sister if he was caught now.
"Nunnally will never be able to survive by herself," Schneizel countered, seemingly reading Lelouch's mind. "Judging by what you mentioned before, I can only conclude that you intend to send Lelouch with her."
The Emperor chuckled. "You are correct. Any leader would be foolish to accept a broken piece alone."
"A broken piece..." Schneizel muttered to himself pensively. "Tell me, how can a leader play Chess, yet not be a King? The King is symbolic of the leader himself. The only way to kill a King is to kill the leader; how is it possible to sacrifice your King and live?"
Charles picked up his glass of whiskey and drained it completely, before setting it back down on the table in front of him. "One of my research teams has recently made significant progress on genetic modification."
"You mean cloning?" Schneizel sounded interested.
"No, something far more sophisticated. Soon we will have the power to change the very nature of a person's DNA, to the extent that, given time, their body will remodel itself based on our alterations."
"A double, then," he concluded. "That is nothing that hasn't been done before. While this method might have the advantage of being a perfect physical match, doubles are always caught out by betraying slight personality and behavioural differences. They are also notorious liabilities when forced to make decisions in situations where they cannot contact their employer. What makes your scheme any different to those that have come before?"
"Only one and a half seconds of hesitation and you came to that conclusion yourself," Charles noted. "You are correct that it is a double's actions which lead to their discovery. However, would you say the same if it was possible to completely erase who a person once was and replace everything from their personality to their memories with another's, yet ensure that they remain completely subservient to that person?"
"Such a thing is possible?" Schneizel asked cautiously.
"It is."
"Then nobody would be aware of my deception-"
"-Until it is too late," Charles finished for him. "Do you know why the King can only move one space, Schneizel? The greatest secret of Chess is that the King is at heart a Pawn. To sacrifice a Pawn means to give up one piece for a more powerful one. To sacrifice a King means to give up the world, then cut down your enemy while their back is turned."
Lelouch stared blankly at his mahogany chess board, the crackling fire before him the only thing illuminating him in the darkness of his chambers. He played against himself in an almost serene manner, casually moving pieces from both sides and dropping dead soldiers into the box to the left of his board. Periodically, he would angrily wipe the remaining pieces onto the floor and reset the board with brand new ones from a box to his right.
Did his father want something more than to capture land? There was no way a man like Charles Zi Britannia would give anybody else not only the key to invincibility, but also the potential to usurp him without something enormous in return.
He ground his teeth.
The most likely scenario was that he considered Schneizel a threat to his reign and wanted to make sure the boy had a weakness he could exploit when the danger of a coup d'état arose. Yes, that had to be it. By planting the idea within him at a young age – while he was yet to lead an army or control any land of his own – and giving him a seemingly flawless plan, Charles could almost certainly rely on him to use it. His father was very cunning and very ruthless, something Lelouch was realising more and more by the day. If Schneizel used a double, then he would be protected from the entire world, but could be easily taken out by anybody who knew of it. Charles could kill him in a heartbeat if he got too powerful.
Lelouch began to chuckle quietly, once again wiping the board. He slowly began to place the White pieces on the board: eight Pawns, two Rooks, two Knights, two Bishops and a Queen. The King he put to one side; Schneizel would be his ultimate enemy – his elder brother was far too shrewd to not see Charles' plan and eliminate him. The Black King joined his enemies on the board, but instead of a wall of Pawns protecting it, eight Black Queens stood proudly against the White army.
If Schneizel refused to play by the rules of chess, then so would he.
His father may have stripped him of his right to claim the throne, but he would never need it. He would take this rotten country by force and reshape it into something worth existing.
He placed the White Queen back on the board.
'Thank you, father. Thank you, brother. You have given me what I need to destroy you.'
Shinjuku Wrecking Yard
Kallen bowed her head as Lelouch finished, fists clenching handfuls of dirt. No part of his narrative meant anything to her. She didn't play chess, nor did she study war tactics, but she couldn't help but feel some part of her fears assuaged. In her mind there was never any explanation that could adequately justify his actions, but at the same time there was no explanation that could not. She had come prepared to believe anything he told her, so long as it allowed her to regain her hope and give her a chance to once again wage war against Britannia.
Yet still, she yearned to understand him – to trust him.
"So everything was a lie," she began, looking up to meet his gaze. "You fought against us, killed our people and took over the world for nothing!"
Lelouch stared unflinchingly in the face of the raw fury in her eyes. "You once told me to play my role as Zero to the fullest – to deceive everyone until the very end."
"Schneizel had removed himself from the board, leaving me with no King to attack. He has always refused to be the King or any other piece, ensuring that he is always the player and pulling the strings from the shadows without ever being in any danger. Schneizel is a coward, Kallen. He would never feel secure enough to become King and claim his spoils unless Charles and I were long since dead and buried; the best result anybody could obtain against him until then was a stalemate."
"Then everything up until now –" Kallen began.
"–Has been to bring Schneizel out into the open, yes."
Tears welled up in Kallen's eyes. "Then…Shirley…Absolute Animation…"
"Shirley told you more than she let on to me, then," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Your instincts are correct. Shirley's Geass can create bodies out of nothing and animate them to do as she wishes. When active, she can see through one eye in her own body and through one eye in the animated body's. As you may have suspected, it was used to fake my death."
"How can a mirage hold a gun, or sit on a throne, or be…" she faltered slightly "…stabbed so realistically? All that blood…Wouldn't Shirley have died too?"
"There is no mirage; the bodies Shirley can create with her Geass are real. It does cause Shirley some pain, but it is a fraction of what the body would truly experience. I am concerned that it may worsen if her Geass evolves, though."
"But Lelouch, you could create entire armies with this! You could defeat Schneizel!"
He shook his head. "There are some limitations. While the bodies can be touched, prodded or interacted with in any way, they cannot themselves interact with anything else, save in minor ways such as sitting on a chair or holding a gun. Attempting to operate a knightmare or any other sort of heavy technology would cause their muscles to give out; Shirley does not have such a strong command over them. She is also only able to control one at a time, though I would again expect this to change if the Geass spreads to her other eye."
Kallen opened her mouth to reply, but the hope she had regained at hearing the initial explanation of Shirley's Geass had been brutally stripped away from her. Nothing came out.
"I no longer have any use for the Order of the Black Knights. It was necessary that they suffer absolute defeat at the hands of Schneizel. There is no hope for them to launch a successful rebellion now; this truth alone is the only way we can possibly achieve victory."
"Lelouch! What are you playing at?" she screamed furiously. "The Black Knights are the only people in the world who could ever possibly hope to fight against Britannia! Become our leader again and lead us to war! Don't abandon us now, Lelouch!"
She collapsed into the dirt once again, tears pouring from her eyes. "…Don't abandon me now, Lelouch."
"Stand up, Q-1. Your allies need you. Japan needs you. The world needs you! The Order of the Black Knights may not be necessary any more, but you still have a role to play. Weigh out justice! Regain the purpose you have lost. Join me as we fight with everything on the line! Together we will reclaim the world that Schneizel has stolen, Kozuki Kallen: Ace of the Black Knights"
Slowly, she dragged herself to her feet, trying to control her breathing. Her eyes still glistened, but now her tears were tears of joy – tears of hope. With this she could break refrain's hold over her. With this she could fight for Naoto's dream. With this she could free Japan.
"Yes…Yes, Zero!"
Room 277
Tokyo Settlement International Hotel
"It's done, then?" Shirley asked quietly as he entered. The lights were off in the room and it had been cleaned immaculately. She was sitting on a pillow by the window, staring absently into the night sky as the solemn moonlight lit up her features. C.C. was nowhere to be seen.
He sat down on the bed, trying not to look at her. "Yes."
"Don't cry for me, Lelouch," she said with a smile, giggling quietly as he tried to conceal wiping a stray tear from his eye while he thought she wasn't watching.
Slowly, she got to her feet and walked over to stand in front of him, touching a finger to his chin and using it to raise his head so their eyes met. "I knew your heart could never truly belong to me. You have never lied to me about that. I'm just glad I could spend a year pretending you were mine."
Her body shivering, she leant down to place the last kiss she would ever give upon the lips of Lelouch Vi Britannia and quietly left the room.
"…Forgive me, Shirley."