... Round of applause, anyone? Really, I have no idea where my muse for this went. I got halfway through it and them I just... lost all drive to continue. Luckily I didn't lose sight of what I had planned for this chapter during this long lapse, though. So... Sorry? Doesn't cut it, huh... I shall go get my groveling outfit now. I have a feeling I'll be needing it to get my meager excuse for a 'fanbase' – do I even have one? - back. And the saddest part is, I actually cut this chapter in half because it was getting too long. That, and I decided the latter half of this chapter has such a high climactic factor that it deserves a chapter of it's own.

More importantly – albeit arguably so – is that I think I got more criticism last chapter than I have ever before – oddly, that delights me. I admit that my ideas aren't absolute and perfect and that which may have made sense to me may not be convincing to everyone else; I'm not a professional author and I don't pretend to be, so I expect myself to make mistakes. But it helps when people point them out so that I can learn from them (since I do want to be an author, knowing where I need improvement is imperative to me).

But there was some criticism that wasn't a mistake on my part, so I will set people's minds to rest regarding those. First of all (mainly because it is simple), my reason for making the United States is a simple matter of making a parallel to the real world United States (more or less in response to the premise of the original failure of the American Revolution in Britannian History), and there will be more development regarding it that will make it differ greatly from a Federation. And for Schneizel, it being a Federation is (as with most of his claims, as I explained) a mask to the true nature of it all, which, like the US, will receive more coverage later on.

And HyuugaHotness, I saved you because I have a lot to say (primarily because you did point out a couple mistakes on my part). The negotiations scene was originally intended to be far longer and more convincing, but doing so would have made for a lot of repetivitity that is, in itself, a problem, I believe. For that reason I toned it down, which turned out to be a mistake anyway since it made things unconvincing. And for the simple matter of why they were meeting in such a manner, I described (perhaps not very well) that neither side was overly concerned with the battle and were perfectly content to do so simply because neither side felt threatened by it. Another unconvincing aspect, but that scene was probably my biggest mistake.

So on another note, I got many a Power Rangers jokes in this chapter. The colors were actually based off of their Frames (Guren is red, Lancelot Kosui is black, Shen-Hu is blue, Edinburgh is silver and the Vincent is gold), and no they will not be fusing in any way, shape or form. Seriously though, I didn't intend to them to be reminiscent of Power Rangers, although I can see where that came from. Thankfully their new titles were intended to be a seldom seen formality anyway.

Also, because it was mentioned, I will explain the reason behind the fallout between C.C. and Lelouch. It wasn't a sudden thing, although the events leading up to it were rather subtle I admit. The more they solidify their contract is the more their own relationship strains, and that will be the primary focus of this chapter and the next. After next chapter, development between them will be minimal until the very end. Hopefully this chapter will shed more light upon the reason why they drifted.

Lastly, though this has nothing to do with any mistakes on my part, I feel the need to mention that after now a lot of things will be different than they were canon. That is, among the things that still remained canon. For one, Geass and everything pertaining to it will be taking a nearly exclusive front seat over any actual fighting starting this chapter (though there will still be fighting; it will simply be limited to the more decisive sort... kind of like what it was in the anime itself), and my decisions in regards to it are primarily based upon my own suspicions of it at the end of season one (because R2, being what it was, trashed just about every mystery Geass had attained over the first season). What I mean is to say that, in reading this, forget what R2 told you of both C.C. and Geass in itself, because they will be completely different here. Some elements may be similar, but the general nature will be entirely different. Previous chapters have hinted at this, I do believe.

All in all, I really liked the reviews I got for that last chapter. So if you notice mistakes like those in the future (and I am sure you will), don't hesitate to point them out for me – as I said, I doubt I will improve otherwise. This chapter is relatively straightforward and shouldn't have any mistakes as extreme as last chapter did, but I will leave that up to all of you, should anyone point anything out.


"Haha, this is great! That Britannian kid is so busy fighting his family that he didn't even realize we'd be here!"

"Don't speak so ominously, Keitaro. Wait until we have actually done the deed before you gloat, will you?"

Keitaro – in full, Keitaro Asakawa – growled in frustration, his notoriously short temper getting the better of him. The cockpit within which he sat did nothing to alleviate his sour mood, smelling putrid from hours spent in it, filled with the smell of his own sweat that even now coated him as would remnants of water after leaving the shower. Oh how he longed to allow his Sutherland to roar to life, to go barreling into Kyoto and force the standing troops, little more than a meager police force with bottom of the line Burai or worse, into a sound surrender. Although, that longing came from more than simply his desire to vent his frustration. Japan would finally have a true place to rest again, where they weren't under the rule of another. How dare that Lelouch kid try to tell them that he would give them that!

The fact that the average Japanese ecstatically supported Lelouch, if only because he had been their martyr Zero, was irrelevant in Keitaro's eyes. Clearly he had some kind of ulterior motive, and this was some trick! And if not, the people were being disillusioned! Could Japan truly regain its former glory under the rule of a Britannian? The very idea made Keitaro sick to his stomach. No Britannian would ever have his loyalty, or the loyalty of the other fifty with which he fought. They were the true Japanese, those willing to pick a fight with whoever they had to for the sake of their own independence. If that meant fighting the fearsome Black Prince in a fight where he held the advantage, a feat that none had accomplished – although none had tried – and few believed to be possible, well, so be it.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't berate me, Chihiro. Let me vent a little – we can't fight yet, after all."

"You know that we can't underestimate that kid. He may be busy doing whatever it is he is doing over near Tokyo, but he wouldn't have left the former capital of Japan – a true symbol for us due to Tokyo being under Britannian occupation – so poorly guarded for no reason. He must have known there were rebel groups working independently from himself even now – it would be too uncharacteristic of him to not be aware," Chihiro spoke in such a knowing manner that it left Keitaro speechless for several long moments, unable to formulate anything remotely resembling a sound retort. Chihiro was, after all, absolutely right – Keitaro realized that much, at least.

"How much longer do we have to wait?"

"The Gefjun Nets should be outfitted shortly. Then we may attack." And then as an afterthought she added, "Try to show some patience, would you?"

Keitaro laughed slightly, "You know I cannot do that. I've waited too long to stick it to that Britannian punk!" He patted the wall of the cockpit lightly. "Finally, the kid'll get what was coming to him all along. Retribution, for using us Japanese as tools!"

"Calm down, would you... What?" The small radar displayed before Chihiro suddenly began flashing a red warning signal, a premonition of sorts for approaching enemies. But those within Kyoto had no idea they were there – they had ensured that by keeping their Frames shut down until the time of departure – and there were no other military bases within the area. Which could only mean... "He foresaw this! The Black Prince is attacking!"

Sure enough, the blips for enemy signals revealed themselves a moment later. Although, to Chihiro's great surprise, there were only two. Pushing her activation key into the Sutherland, she waited impatiently until the Frame was operational, at which point the entire platoon of Frames did an about face toward the approaching signals. Speeding across the ground in beautiful unison were the Lancelot and the Guren, the former seeming to be preparing a large cannon of sorts while the other held a rifle in one hand and had its claw arm poised in front of it, ready to deal out the lethal radiation contained within. "Bring up your shields!" On an impulse Chihiro gave that order, unsure if there were anything else she could do. This proved to be a good idea as that large cannon released a destructive Hadron blast that tore through their ranks like butter, setting off a long line of Signal Lost signs along her radar. Some pilots managed to buy enough time to eject due to their shields, but the majority were either struck too fast to do anything or, worse, hadn't had enough time to raise their shields and met a rather unfortunate end on impact.

"Damn that Black Prince! Chihiro, I'm going after the Black Knight! You do whatever you want." In an enraged huff Keitaro sped toward the enemy, his enthusiasm unfortunately no match for the superior technology and raw piloting skill boasted by his enemy. Regardless he managed to hold his own, assaulting the Lancelot from the side in such a way that it itself was made a shield, preventing the Guren from reaching him quickly, clashing with the Lancelot's MVS with his stun tonfa. When it grew apparent that he would be overpowered he backed off, lobbing a chaos grenade toward it to buy him enough time to gain some distance. The rest of the platoon were fast to join him, readying themselves for what was inevitably to be a difficult conflict.

"We are the Black Knight and the Red Knight, Suzaku Kururugi and Karen Kozuki. Will you not surrender?" Suzaku's voice was cold, but it was pleading. He didn't want to fight this battle, to be forced to suppress mere civilians – rebels or not – in such a manner. Perhaps it was a remnant of his humanity. Or perhaps it was a part of who he was that would always remain. Whichever the case, the mere proposal of surrender caused Keitaro to ache even more to drive his tonfa into that black Frame, to tear it apart and show to the world that the fabled Black Knight was a joke. A traitor to his people, no less. It would be Keitaro to do all that.

"I would sooner die than submit to the dogs of the Black Prince!" As one, the platoon of Sutherland brought their rifles up, opening fire with a rain of bullets upon the Lancelot and the Guren. Sand kicked up and smoke billowed, making the outcome of their execution unknown for many seconds. As finally the sand began to settle and the smoke cleared, the forms of the Lancelot and the Guren could not be seen. Any joy was cut short as a massive Hadron blast from above tore through their ranks a second time, decimating their ranks as though they were ants to be stepped upon. The sand that had once again kicked up in the face of that attack cleared to reveal the swiftly approaching Guren, bombing down upon them from the sky with its claw arm at the ready. Try as they might the Sutherland simply could not keep up with its speed and finally it latched itself onto one of them, destroying it almost instantly with a surge of radiation.

Those still alive could do little. They used whatever they had, exhausting their rifles' rounds and running through their supply of chaos grenades, but all of their efforts seemed to be in vain. Any and all attacks either missed entirely or bounced off of the wide array of shielding the Frames had. Fear grew with every unsuccessful attempt to destroy the two meddlesome foes until suddenly there were many who held thoughts of regret for having not surrendered – they were civilians, after all, and self preservation was high on their lists of priorities. Keitaro was among few still motivated, seeing every unsuccessful attempt as buildup to what was surely to be a fantastic battle in the end. Such a brash nature was all a Japanese could display in times like these.

"I'll ask you again," Suzaku's voice was far more harsh this time, lacking the distant warmth it had before. "Will you surrender?"

"We will not," Chihiro responded. Her breathing was labored and, from what Keitaro could tell, she had nearly been a victim of that recent Hadron blast.

"Then as the Black Knight, right hand of the United States' CEO Lelouch Lamperouge, I will be your opponent." Keitaro had little more than a couple seconds to prepare himself before the Lancelot crashed down upon him, one MVS deadlocked with his stun tonfa and the other still poised to attack. He brought up his shield quickly enough to deflect the attack, but the swinging ceased not, hammering into his shield relentlessly. The blows began to take their toll on the unfortunate recipient Sutherland, and finally its arm was removed altogether with one powerful swing. Keitaro backed off, covered by two of his allies when the Lancelot attempted to give chase.

Keitaro hadn't gotten more than a few yards' distance before he joined the fray again, firing between his two allies at the Lancelot's lower leg. A small explosion coursed its way through the Frame's makeshift kneecap and it slumped for a moment, halted by the damage dealt by that small assault. The assault was too small though, and in just a moment it was attacking again, cutting down one of the Sutherland. As it backed away and fired a slash harken toward it three more advanced upon it, opening fire and launching slash harkens in unison with one another. The Lancelot was undeterred, swerving around all of the attacks while closing the distance between the four of them, taking one out with a swipe of a MVS across the torso while both slash harkens fired around that Sutherland and embedded themselves into the other two.

"Pin it down!" Chihiro cried, panic beginning to grow evident in her voice. Another three Sutherland advanced upon it with that very intent, but all three were swiftly dispatched by a stream of Fukushahado radiation from the Guren circling overhead. As though that were some sort of signal the Lancelot finally took the offensive, lunging toward those remaining and dispatching them with practiced ease. Many ejected before they were even reached out of sheer terror, and it wasn't long before Suzaku had almost single-handedly wiped out the entire platoon, leaving Chihiro and Keitaro – both with damaged Frames – and less than ten others still standing. Chihiro's entire body was quivering in fear; it wasn't supposed to happen this way. She had suspected the Lancelot may be seen, but even then it shouldn't have been able to so easily dismantle them. One person taking on so many was, no matter how she looked at it, simply impossible. And seeing that theory torn apart before her was frightening, among other things.

Suzaku felt a small pain build in his chest as he carried out this dreadful duty. He had really had no problem doing what Lelouch asked of him before, but this was a little more... ruthless. Lelouch's orders hadn't had a shred of kindness to them, as Suzaku had hoped when he had been summoned. It was brief, in which Lelouch simply said there was an uprising beginning around Kyoto and that they could use it to show the true extent of their might to the world. It was true, of course... but was it right to condemn all these people to death for those reasons? They were deserving of this judgment of course, but Lelouch had the wrong motives for passing this judgment. It was for that reason that these small stabs of pain grew ever stronger for every cockpit that ejected or for every Frame that was destroyed as a result of his actions.

Had he been right in becoming a traitor to Britannia, all that time ago?

"As you can see, Keitaro Asakawa, the United States is not to be opposed." High above, staring down upon the rebels with a condescending look in its lifeless eyes, was the Gawain. Within Lelouch was lightly trailing his fingers over his eyes, unhindered by the irritating contacts that kept his Geass contained. "My Black Knight Suzaku Kururugi has been quite thorough in proving this to you, has he not?"

"You...!" Keitaro slammed his fist against his thigh, his rage quickly reaching a boiling point. "Don't look down on me, Black Prince! Come down here so we can settle this!"

"I do not think I will," Lelouch's voice resonated in a mighty chuckle, amused by the conversation – which only served to further anger Keitaro. "You see, I have no reason to fight you now. You are an ant, trying to leave his hole. Why must I be the one to step on you?"

"You are too pleased of yourself, Lelouch Lamperouge," Chihiro admonished. Lelough laughed at this, making her flinch at the icy tone of his voice.

"Should I be more modest? Would that impose in others the true nature of whom they speak to? Foolish." The cannons on the Gawain's shoulders opened and energy began to gather within, finally to be released in two long streams of Hadron energy. The Gawain turned as necessary, wiping out all but Chihiro and Keitaro themselves, as they had been some distance away from the main gathering. When the streams died out the ground was charred, devoid of any remnant signs of life. It was highly unlikely that any of the pilots had gotten the chance to eject before they had been subjected to the Gawain's overwhelming strength, and even more unlikely that the life growing upon the ground below them had been granted the chance to escape.

"Cruel of you, isn't it? To be so ruthless..." As though the sudden destruction didn't bother her at all Chihiro tutted, shaking her head in a pitiful manner. "Is the world truly safe in your hands?"

"Twice you refused Suzaku's request to surrender. I don't need to show you any form of kindness." As an afterthought he added, "I would have gladly spared your lives had you listened. Perhaps imprison the leaders, but otherwise I would be fair."

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting now?" cried Keitaro, firing off a few rounds on reflex. The rounds sailed toward the Guren, where they fell helplessly to the red Frame's advanced shielding. "You are a tyrant! A dictator! You want the world for yourself, don't you!"

"I want a better world. That is all," replied Lelouch.

"Bullsh ---"

"Lelouch, may we finish this?" Karen asked, her own hotheaded impatience getting the better of her. Lelouch laughed.

"Yes, take them out." The process took no more than a few seconds. Damaged as they were the enemy were sitting ducks as the Lancelot and Guren converged upon them. Keitaro and his Sutherland were the first to be taken out, by way of one of Suzaku's MVS being lodged within its torso. Chihiro wasn't far behind, locked in the iron grip of the Guren's hand, boiled to immesurable temperatures from the Fukushahado. As the area cleared from the resulting explosions and the subsequent smoke, nothing but the remains of previously destroyed Sutherland were left. "Suzaku, you got all that recorded, right?"

"Of course."

"Then we shall use it, and begin to expand our power." Lelouch laughed one final time for those whom he had just condemned to death, maniacal and without remorse. The fifty or so rebels here had been ideal people; people willing to do what was necessary for what they believed to be right. And in that regard, they were to be honored. But beyond that, to Lelouch, they were deserving of no more than his amusement at their deaths. That was who they had opposed, and that was who they were doomed to lose their lives to. And worse, Lelouch thought ecstatically, they would in the end be used to further his goals. A fitting punishment for those who opposed the future, indeed.

o---o

How long had it truly been since he was happy? A year? A decade? Several decades? Indeed, for one with no need for time such as V.V., remembering such a thing was impossible. Every day felt the same as the last, after all. Never aging, never changing... forever standing still, in a way. It was a curse, but it had been one he had welcomed all those years ago. Because it was for his brother, Charles Di Britannia, this curse was nothing. But now, in these darker and more depressing days, what did he have? What crutch did he have to keep the burden of this curse from swallowing him whole? To pull him beneath the waves of its burden and suffocate him, to finally free him... that, perhaps, wouldn't be an unfavorable fate now.

"Charles..." Though, the notion of death being comforting was still painful. Immortality, after all, was the mark of his bond with his brother. To think that he would have to abandon it was still terribly painful; a dull pain, but still pain all the same. And did Charles care? No. All he cared about was the plan. That didn't mean that V.V. didn't as well, but... what was he, in the grand scheme of things? Was he Charles' brother, or was he a necessary element of their plan? That was a question that had occupied V.V.'s thoughts for many a night till now, and still there was only one thing that came to mind – the need for a new Charles. That was the only solution, for otherwise the plan would result in V.V. fading away into nothingness, forgotten – he couldn't allow that.

Behind the boy bearing exceptionally long, blond hair was the ruins that acted as his current hideout. Not exactly quaint or anything of the sort, but it was safe. Safe from everyone. Few knew of it, and those that did were susceptible to the defenses placed around it, creating the perfect defense. Though, the fact remained that it wasn't as safe as their hideout in the depths of China, and that location had been flushed out and captured by Lelouch regardless. But the mistake of taking anyone lightly wasn't a mistake V.V. was about to make again. Making that mistake was what had aloud Lelouch to overcome him before, even with the preparations he had made in case of the eventuality.

That raven haired boy had, unfortunately, been the other thing that had occupied his thoughts as of late. Charles-incarnate, he liked to refer to him as fondly. He was unfortunately the spawn of that witch Marianne, but that was a meager issue. Through and through, he was more Charles' son than any of his many half-siblings were. Perhaps not quite as ruthless as Charles, but that was changing. And it was changing far faster than V.V. had anticipated. It seemed that Clovis' death was a breaking point for him. Did that mean causing the boy more pain would make him more and more like Charles? It was worth thinking about.

"You are getting weak, brother."

Yelping in mild surprise V.V. turned to his side where, unbeknownst to him up until now, Charles was approaching. Had he really been that distracted? Charles wasn't dressed in the robes he normally donned, instead taking on a more informal appearance of just a white robe lined with colorful embroidery; red and blue, with gold streaming down the center. The aristocratic features that were reflected in nearly all of his many children seemed even more prominent in this form, and the scowl on his face seemed all the more menacing – so menacing that V.V. could not resist the cold chill that ran down his spine upon catching sight of it.

"You are still being careless. I knew you would have set traps, and I already know how to prevent them. Why, then, would you think they could protect you, brother?" Charles strode closer still, finally stopping no more than four feet from V.V., glowering down at him from his vantage point of well over three feet.

"Being careless shouldn't matter if it is effective," V.V. muttered childishly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring up at his brother.

"And is lying to me something that should not matter either, brother?" Charles challenged, returning a far more threatening glare. Despite himself, V.V. shuddered before it.

"Are you talking about me not watching Lelouch like I said I would?" V.V. asked.

"We have a contract, brother! To kill the gods! Or have you forgotten about our oath?" snapped Charles. He swung an open palm toward V.V.'s face, sending a loud smack as his strong hand connected with the childlike features of V.V.'s now stinging red face.

"I have not forgotten! But what is this promise if you lie as well?!" V.V. snapped in kind, stepping toward Charles in measured paces. For every step he took. Charles took one back, avoiding contact with his brother. "Liars cannot make a world of truths!"

Charles scowled, "And when have I lied, brother?"

"You have always been lying! I was never your brother – that was a lie! I was your tool, a necessity in your plan; nothing more! I never mattered to you, and saying otherwise was a lie! Wasn't it, brother!"

"You are being weak, brother! The plan must always come first!"

"And what of us?! We made that plan to erase the world that put us through what we have been through! What use is the plan if we forsake each other in the process?"

"We were ready to make these sacrifices!"

"If they were necessary! Not because they were beneficial to one of us!"

"Were your lies beneficial to both of us, then?"

"Had it not been for Rolo's betrayal, they would have!"

"That is enough." The very childish and sibling-like squabble was brought to an end by the authoritative tone of Bismarck, scowling at both of them as though they were misbehaving children.

"What is it, Bismarck?" asked Charles, looking away from V.V. almost defiantly. "I left everything to you Rounds. Or have you failed me as well?"

"Not yet. However, the Royal Fleet under the Knight of Twelve is engaging NFE forces in Area 18 and are struggling. It will be bad if you dally any longer, Your Majesty."

"Schneizel?" Charles cried, aghast. "He moved faster than we expected, Bismarck."

"I miscalculated, Your Majesty. I did not expect him to alleviate the civil war issue through a mass extermination."

"A mass extermination...?"

"Dispatched large forces to all key areas and destroyed everything. Civilian casualties were as high as actual insurgent casualties were, and he unified the entire country in just a few days," Bismarck explained. His face twisted into a rather disgusted expression and with a scoff he forced out, "To think you were going to let him have the throne someday, Your Majesty."

As soon as that had settled in, Charles chuckled in a rather depraved, cynical manner. "The White Prince follows in the Black Prince's footsteps, does he? Fine then. I will go put my ungrateful son in his place."

"And what of the Black Prince?" asked Bismarck, smirking in a manner that was just as depraved in nature.

"Leave him be for now. That ungrateful son will be poking his nose where it doesn't belong soon."

The wind whistled, kicking up leaves from the ground and ruffling those resting in the trees around. And some distance from the ruins, resting in a high top tree with those sounds surrounding him, listening to the entire exchange with growing shock, was the Gold Knight himself. This had been a place stumbled on purely by chance – V.V. had never disclosed its location to Rolo in the past – but it had proven to be a good find. What he had heard here, what he had seen... oh, how good this news would be for Lelouch! He, who had been searching for V.V. on the sly for some time now, would be ecstatic to hear this.

Perhaps he would actually thank Rolo. That would be a grand reward indeed.

o---o

Following the fall of the Middle Eastern Federation, the annexed area had become just another colony in the eyes of Britannia. With the area being of great import – specifically being the barrier between Africa and the Empire of China – it was an essential defensive position for Britannian forces in the world, especially with the entirety of Africa split between the NFE and the many neutral nations lying therein. When the NFE had been formed, however, the small area took on a whole new level of importance. It acted as the gateway to the United States' territory. And that, in Schneizel's eyes, made it as important as the British Isles themselves. Northern Asia had its own importance, yes, but that front was poor to attack from with the artillery the NFE had access to. And before long, the Middle East would turn all of Africa into a warzone, even more so if the neutral nations were to cast their lot with the United States, as Schneizel suspected they now would.

This was made worse by the natural defense the Middle East had in the mountainous port of Haifa, an important location along the Mediterranean Sea. That port alone promised the security of the entire area. Which was why the near entirety of Schneizel's forces were presently converging upon the small port. Its fall would promise the almost complete removal of Britannian forces from the area, granting a monumental victory to the NFE. This, in essence, was then a battle of the utmost importance, both in their growth as a power in the world and in Schneizel's influence. But his allies didn't need to know the latter.

The dangerous waves of the Mediterranean crashed all around below the Avalon as it moved low over it, swiftly closing in on the fortress awaiting them on the horizon, tiered high toward the sky along the side of Mount Carmel and seemingly impossible to attack, especially by sea. Around the Avalon were many fleets, moving at a much slower pace as they fought against the fearsome waves threatening to take them asunder. Each was armed with many cannons ready to bombard Haifa as soon as they were within striking distance. The assault would be swift, and the damage dealt before KMF deployment would hopefully be devastating enough to make a siege possible. Otherwise, this was to be a futile effort and a possibly fatal one. But that was a gamble Schneizel would have to take, even if it meant leaving his preferred field.

The skies above told of favorable conditions once they reached land. Rain was imminent, and the muddy landscape would prove infinitely advantageous for the assailants. The bulky form of the Panzer-Hummel allowed them to be far more sturdy, granting them a traction that Britannia's more humanoid Frames lacked. If the rain was to be as sudden and heavy as expected, Britannia would be washed toward them, to be picked off with ease. Unfortunately this would also mean the climb would be much slower, and fighting the elements when scaling the walls they would have to scale would be difficult. But this was why Schneizel liked being prepared – he already knew how to deal with that.

"Defensive weaponry has been deployed! If we progress much farther we will be in range of their cannons!" Neil cried, whirling around in his seat to stare hard at Schneizel. "Your Highne--- Sir, we will need to stop here if we are to preserve our forces for the main attack."

"Proceed another 200 meters and then fire. We will take out their first line from there," Schneizel replied nonchalantly. A heavy silence fell over them and the seconds passed with nonexistant ticks. Each waited in tense anticipation for the time when the first shots would be fired, as from there it would be complete chaos. This battle would be a test of their mettle against a well fortified foe, using sheer strength of will and basic siege tactics. There were no flashy tactics that promised a decisive advantage to be used here, unfortunately. Such things were impossible unless they were willing to absolutely ruin the entire city in the process, not to mention kill off a great many of its citizens. Destruction like that was beyond what even Schneizel was willing to do at this point. The fact that destroying Haifa utterly nullified anything there was to be gained from this battle may have influenced his decision, however.

"Cannons one through eight, firing!" The entire ship seemed to tilt backwards as the cannons that had been – with much difficulty – outfitted onto it fired at once, sending their respective projectiles hurtling toward the large wall that separated the city from its port. On contact the projectiles exploded, sending many tiny pieces of explosive shrapnel scattering along the wall that set off in a series of smaller explosions, taking out a large portion of the wall, leaving the broken off pieces to fall upon the unsuspecting mariners, fishermen and other such people below. The turrets that rested along the wall remained relatively intact, although several were dislodged from the loss of wall holding it. Those still in place fired one after another, sending large missiles soaring in a downward motion toward the approaching ships.

"Anti-ship missiles! If those hit, we...!" Neil cried, panic overtaking him.

If Schneizel held any worry, it was hidden behind a cool mask of indifference. "Move port side, twenty degrees. Fire the main cannon toward the sea."

It took the cannon less than a second to line up, and another two to fire. As it neared the water the much larger projectile exploded, sending a massive wall of water spurting into the air in front of the Avalon. As the missiles neared the wall they were immediately sent into a steep decline, embedding themselves deep within the sea, harmless. A moment later the next wave of shots from the Avalon's cannons and those of the fleet below fired, resulting in another fireworks show of explosions along the large wall. In their wake was a crumbling wall, no longer able to hold its own weight, quickly crumbling. Cheers of joy poured from everyone, both awed and delighted by their success thus far.

"Full speed ahead," Schneizel said, waving an arm to the side. "Deploy all available VTOL units and ready the next wave. Drop them off on tier two and begin the assault."

"VTOL units going through system check now." A pause, "All clear. VTOL units deploying!"

One by one the large, bird-like transport units took flight, soaring over the raging sea. Beneath them, held in an awkward vice-like grip were Panzer-Hummels, ready for the conflict to come. The VTOL dipped and swerved as they went, dodging whatever was fired at them from below. Above clouds continued to gather, giving an impending sign of the coming storm. They soared over the still crumbling wall and over the city beyond. Some dropped their loads into the city, but the majority continued on to the next tier, where a line of Sutherland were taking aim. As the Panzer-Hummel landed both sides opened fire, they began what was to be a brutal and bloody conflict.

"Naval units, deploy! Take control of the port and isolate them!" Schneizel ordered, his voice now booming with haughty authority.

Small ships dropped from the large ships below, each carrying a Panzer-Hummel in much the same way the VTOL did, with the exception that they were strapped in at the feet rather than caught by the shoulders in a vice. The small ships sped along the water, leaping off of any waves they came across and landing with expert ease. As they came to a sudden halt at the shoreline the Panzer-Hummer filed onto the land, opening fire on whatever lay in their way. They were indiscriminate in their attack: buildings, KMFs, anything but the civilians themselves were targeted. The port was a burning ruin in just a few moments, a stark contrast to the radiant and relatively unharmed city ahead, on the other side of the now rather low wall.

"Sir, signals spotted. One, two... ten VTOL units en route to our position! At the helm is... a blue Vincent! The Knight of Twelve!" Neil shouted.

"The Knight of Twelve? A decoy," Schneizel responded, waving a hand. "Prepare all artillery to fire, and begin rapid ascent. We will fight her ourselves."

"Us?! The Avalon was not built for KMF combat!" Neil protested. On the verge of hysterics he leaped from his seat, advancing on Schneizel swiftly, "Sir, please reconsider! You cannot put the flagship in such unnecessary danger; it will lower morale, not to mention risk your life!"

Schneizel waved his hand in a dismissive manner, "If we do not, she will harass all of our forces. We can at least delay her, and take out the VTOL units."

"Delay?"

Schneizel nodded. "Their forces here are too few, and with rain being imminent, Monica must have realized the disadvantage she is at – there is no way she could not have; she is that kind of woman. Which means she is out here to delay us until reinforcements can arrive."

"All cannons loaded and ready to fire on your order," Darin stated, finally breaking the silence he had been holding up until that point.

"How close is the enemy?" Schneizel asked. As he turned toward Darin, he waved toward Neil's seat with his hand, silently ordering him to return there. Frowning the whole way, Neil did so.

"The VTOL are beginning a descent toward the port now. If they land, our forces there will be hard pressed. Monica seems to be accepting our challenge, as she is heading straight for us."

"Fire the CIWS on port side at the VTOL. Ready all CIWS on starboard side, and aim all cannons toward the Vincent."

The CIWS on port side opened fire on the descending VTOL, sending several into an uncontrollable spiral to their inevitable deaths. Of the ten VTOL in descent, only four escaped the torrential firing of the Avalon and reached the port. There the Sutherland carried were dropped, two caught up in fighting and destroyed before they could even raise their weapons. The other two took cover behind a now-dilapidated building, where they holed themselves up to outlast the assault of the Panzer-Hummel that now almost entirely had the port under their control. When an opening presented itself one of them launched a slash harken toward the roof of a building opposite where they were hiding, soaring up to a balcony where it took cover and lobbed a grenade toward the line of Panzer-Hummel below. The grenade hit its mark, but this alerted them to the Sutherland's new position and it was destroyed in mere seconds.

Meanwhile, the Avalon had since begun engaging the Vincent before them. A difficult fight ensued in which they had a monumental disadvantage, but even so they did not waver in their determination to fight off the KMF. Shrapnel was fired and the many CIWS unleashed the extent of their firepower but the Vincent dodged it all, dipping and swerving around any and everything. The damage taken was a few small explosions from the fired shrapnel coming into contact with it, damaging the shielding on its upper body slightly. Monica continued to close in on the Avalon, taking to hand the assault rifle placed at the Vincent's side. A single grenade was fired from the rifle, travelling in a slight arch and crashing down upon the nose of the warship before it, leaving the Avalon's bow a blackened mess.

"Twenty percent damage to the bow! Fires are breaking out!" Darin reported, not missing a beat in his swift assessment of the situation. Schneizel grit his teeth.

"Have them put out immediately. Neil, direct all CIWS to the Vincent at once. Fire all cannons on her as soon as she is pinned down."

At this moment, time seemed to slow. As Monica closed in on the Avalon, now with two MVS poised in their lance-type fusion to strike, and the Avalon's CIWS opened fire on her, many things seemed to happen at once. Taking the MVS lance in a single hand, Monica brought up her free arm and revealed the needle blazer within her elbow, firing upon the CIWS toward the starboard side of the Avalon. All were eliminated in a swift turning motion, and then went those on the port side, the shells fired from them bouncing relatively harmlessly off of the Vincent's armor. Damage as a whole was rather minimal; only the areas already weakened by shrapnel actually took any damage, the extent of which was some minor damage to operational control. It was at that moment that the cannons fired, a massive wall of explosive shrapnel that exploded all around the Vincent. Try as she might Monica was unable to evade it all, and the resulting explosions sent her soaring toward the ground below, with the recommendation to eject flashing dangerously to her left.

"The Vincent is down! W-we did it!" Neil laughed, shaking his head in an almost-pitiful manner. "I can't believe it!"

"Our forces are climbing up to the third tier as we speak," Darin said next, far more calm about their nigh-impossible victory over Monica. But everyone knew that, deep down, he was celebrating their victory just as much, though he kept a far more professional appearance through it.

The third tier was largely dedicated to homes for the people, primarily due to the fact that this tier was the furthest up and, in times of war, the hardest to attack from both land and sea. Only attacking from air made this tier an easy target, and even then there was no real reason to attack it. But in this instance, with the tier acting also as the main camp of the fortified Britannian forces, an assault on such an area was inevitable. Sutherland and Gloucester blockaded just about every road and formed concentrated groups in all locations of importance, making an assault very difficult. Furthermore, with the issue of the buildings around them holding civilians, the ability to fight freely was severely hindered.

"Hold position and await the arrival of the main forces," Schneizel ordered swiftly. "Neil, deploy all reserve units at once toward tier three. We will need every bit of firepower we can get there."

The reserves ultimately didn't matter too much. As soon as the entirety of their forces had gathered, all hell broke loose. Both sides demolished one another, one through sheer force of will and the other by making use of its fortifications and superior raw strength. The streets were littered with the scattered remains of destroyed Frames in mere minutes. There was no regard for anything but eliminating their enemy. On a number of occasions a Sutherland or a Panzer-Hummel would be destroyed by friendly fire simply because they were in the way. Any onlookers could only describe the desperate conflict as absolutely atrocious. There was no justice or honor or anything constituting humanoid thoughts. Only loyalty to their own respective sides that drove them to commit such atrocities. It was as close to a war tragedy as there had been since the great flooding near Xi'an in China late last year.

A shrill beeping began sounding from the computer at the station which Darin was seated at, breaking through the tense atmosphere from watching the battle progress below. "Its a request for communication. On a private channel, too..."

"I'll bite. Put it through." The screen hanging over the window overlooking the bow of the ship shifted to static for a minute before turning black, the words Sound Only spelt in red in the center of the screen. "Must you play games, father?"

"So you were expecting me, Schneizel," Charles' voice responded, rumbling in a mighty chuckle.

"Cut with the pleasantries!" Schneizel snapped.

"Then retreat, pitiful son of mine. You cannot win."

"I am as strong as you, father. I need not cower before you any longer. I can take what you have tempted me with for so long."

"So your aim is to take this throne by force. How naive." Schneizel was fuming with rage at this point but Charles gave him not a moment to vent as he went on, "Conflict brings only more conflict. You will be a king of nothingness, foolish son."

"You are unfit to rule, father. And Lelouch will be a dictator. I will sacrifice myself to destroy you both!"

"With that power? You are weak still, Schneizel!"

"I will prove to you I am strong, father. Do your worst! I will not waver."

"Will defeating me here prove you are strong? You are a fool, Schneizel!" Schneizel gritted his teeth as Charles laughed, trying desperately to contain the rage he had contained thus far. "You are no better than Lelouch! Driven by emotions, by desires! Your selfish ways will not solve anything!"

"Do not compare me to Lelouch! He is a demon beyond salvation, a claw waiting to tear into the very fabric with which this world was made!"

"And then what are you?"

"I am his evil half-brother, the spawn of a lesser evil that will absorb all the hatred in this world to destroy the demon before him."

"If that is so, Schneizel, then I am the devil himself, no?"

"That is correct."

"Amusing! Very well, son of the devil. I will play your game – for now."

o---o

"So the Middle East falls into conflict as well," Suzaku stated evenly, meeting the stern stare Lelouch had been giving him with an equally stern one of his own. Both were dressed exceptionally well, befitting of the occasion for which they were dressed. Lelouch was dressed in a close fitting black robe detailed with such colorful embroidery that it was something befitting for only the highest of royalty, if not the Emperor himself. A black cap with golden trimmings covered his hair, with a feathered tail falling down the back. His regalia was topped off with a red sash tied around his waist, a hardly necessary accessory that had no purpose other than to flaunt his importance. And flaunt it did.

Although in a far more militaristic manner, Suzaku was dressed quite similarly. He was dressed from head to toe in navy blue; a shirt that buttoned at the side, with the symbol of the Order of the Black Knights over the heart and a pair of black wings behind them. His pants tore just below the knee, leaving an opening through which the black linen beneath could be seen. Leather gloves covered his hands, and the boots he wore were about as gruntish as they came, as far as he was concerned.

"This is all the more reason for us to make haste. We must prepare ourselves to face off against Schneizel," Lelouch responded, frowning. "Schneizel was defeated, but he instead occupied Tel Aviv. The Middle East will soon be in open conflict."

"The Middle East won't survive a conflict like that..." Suzaku mused.

Lelouch stepped closer to Suzaku, pulling his friend close enough that he could whisper without fear of being heard, "And as my Black Knight, you answer to nobody in that room except for myself. Of the forty-nine representatives in that room, not one of them has your loyalty, understood? Only I have authority over you. And when this is said and done, you will lead our army to do what you wish with the Middle East. Does that satisfy you, Suzaku?"

"M-me? Lead? What about you?" Suzaku asked, whispering just as quietly. To any passers-by, they looked like two close friends sharing a touching moment, or something of the sort. And while that in itself was strange given the people in question, it was nothing anybody would bat an eye over.

"Japan is still in ruin from our occupation. I will be staying here to begin reparations."

"Reparations?"

Finally Lelouch stepped back, growing ever more conscious of the fact that people were giving he and Suzaku rather strange looks – strange looks befitting a strange occurance, but strange nonetheless. "The Japanese have newfound distrust toward me after the formation of the United States. It is not rare to find someone stating that I am doing this to gather strength for my own ends, and that my kindness toward the Japanese is a front to make use of them," he explained.

"T-that's...!"

"Don't trouble yourself with it." As if to drop the subject entirely – although it was indeed a subject that weighed heavily upon Lelouch's mind – Lelouch turned toward the doors before them, taller than either he or Suzaku and made of a well polished wood that looked more red than brown. His lips formed into a hardly containable smirk and he waved his hand to usher Suzaku closer as he walked toward them. "Beyond these doors are our future, Suzaku. What we have been doing so far is terrorism, no matter what I have said to the contrary. You know this, I am sure. Now, however, we will have grounds upon which to continue our fight."

"We have come far, haven't we, Lelouch?"

"There is still a long road before us, and it will only get more difficult. I shall be this country's mind and body; can I trust you to be its sword?"

"I shall be your sword, Lelouch. We are in this together; don't forget that."

"So long as you don't either. Did you have Kaguya show them the footage from Kyoto?"

Suzaku nodded, "I did."

"Good." Lelouch's hands rested upon the curved handles of the large doors while he gave one final glance back toward Suzaku, "Than they will be easy to make use of."

The doors creaked loudly as Lelouch pushed them open. The many eyes seated in a large circle turned toward the door as he and Suzaku strode in. Each person seated in the circle had a flag posted on the back of the table in correspondence with where they sat – forty-nine flags for forty-nine representatives. Representatives from Sudan, Senegal and from the various members of the South African Union were just some of the many people gathered. With the exception of the few countries which had surrendered to Schneizel and the NFE, there wasn't a single country in Africa that hadn't accepted Lelouch's invitation to the United States. Seated to the right of a large – and presently unoccupied – seat was a space belonging to Japan's representative, a role taken by one Kaguya Sumeragi. A seat to the left of the large seat remained unoccupied as well, with the symbol of the Order of the Black Knights as its respective flag.

The ninety-eight eyes in the room remained fixed upon the two boys as they made their way around the table and toward their respective seats. Two soldiers dressed in the uniform of the Order of the Black Knights stepped forth to pull out the large chair for Lelouch, and with a slow nod Lelouch took his seat. After waiting for Lelouch to have taken his seat Suzaku followed suit, and the moment he settled into the soft cushion of the black chair the room seemed to fall into a daze. Nothing seemed to move, and the light breathing people took was nearly inaudible. Only Lelouch seemed unbothered by this, sifting through a stack of papers that had been generously placed before him. The room waited in complete silence as he did so, tensely. Finally the tense air began to break, and Lelouch smiled broadly as he said, "I am pleased that so many would cast their lot with a cursed man."

Whether the statement had actually been funny or not to anyone, they all laughed. A stout man with a large assortment of facial jewelry in particular laughed quite rambunctiously, overtaking the more subdued laughs just about everyone else made. He was the Ambassador and subsequently the representative of Botswana, direct aide to its President. A man of no small import, Khajad Rossa had some renown, if only due to the fact that the President himself was rather sickly and much of the administration fell to him as a result. The renown he had earned was hardly worth mention, however, as he had done little more than the basic duties. Even so, past rumors that had stated he was working alongside Britannia in its preliminary invasions into Africa made his name well known, if not his deeds. But with this rumor, his fame too faded.

"You honor us, Black Prince. Is it not true that you are the Man of Miracles, Zero? Is there anything cursed about that? You are a hero, if anything!" Khajad bellowed, his voice rumbling low in his throat.

Lelouch resisted the urge to laugh at how easily his false modesty had been bought. Even those who knew him better than others seemed to be convinced, and only Suzaku was evidently aware of the falsehood in Lelouch's modesty, though he showed no signs of being bothered by it. Pressing his luck in the modesty department – it was a valuable tool if used properly, after all – Lelouch responded, "But I am weak. Britannia continues to grow, and the White Prince too has spread his wings. I cannot contend with either with the power I have."

"Even so, you managed to conquer Japan! And with few casualties on your own side! How can you be so modest?" Khajad laughed. Lelouch had to wonder how a man such as him had been given such an important office as an Ambassador, but he allowed it too to pass. Now was not the time to be questioning the worth of his allies, after all.

"It is no fault of my own to appear modest," Lelouch replied. He rested his elbows on the desk and then his chin on folded hands, staring down the stout man down intensely for a brief moment. "The reality is that this world must unite in its effort to overthrow Britannia. That, I suspect, is something we agree upon?"

"Aye, it is."

"In that case, this is what I propose." Lelouch paused long enough to ensure he had the attention of everyone seated, and then continued, "As it is, we lack both the time and the proper scenario by which to form any concrete form. In the stead of an official charter, would a global alliance suffice? Cast your lot with me and grant me superiority, and I will ensure that someday we will properly be able to create a united front dedicated to peace."

Khajad's amusement had vanished upon hearing that. He cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to remain calm, and said slowly, "You want us to bend our knees to you? And you want us to believe that you have no desire for power?"

"If I have said anything of the sort, it was a fault of my own. I do want power." Lelouch remained passive as the room broke out into arguments varying from calm and meticulous to simply outraged cries. With the room in an uproar Lelouch watched, growing more and more amused by the second. But at the same time, this made him wonder. Would a union of allies such as this create a longstanding peace? There would always be strife amongst them, and eventually... well, he didn't want to think about eventually.

"The question is, what do you intend to use this power for?" Lelouch recognized this new speaker as President Alain Omar Bernard, representative of the relatively small nation of Gabon. Though he had only been in office for a short six months, he had already done many a deed that had justified his taking upon the namesake of their past President. By no means a patient man, he won points with Lelouch in that he was blunt and to the point, although not to a fault, and he was very reasonable and had the well known tendency to withhold judgment until he knew all sides of a man. He was a valuable ally in that regard.

"To unify this world, of course."

"And you would become our King? A God? Is that what you want?" Khajad interrupted. He slammed a first down on the table, steam all but pouring from his ears as he raged, "You would have us bend our knee to you in the name of world unity?!"

"For the time being, to maintain unity amongst our allies. When all is said and done, the council of this nation would be one of all equal states."

Alain nodded solemnly, considering this. "What would you have over us?"

Lelouch smiled, a genuine gesture of kindness lacking the falsehood many of his actions had held as of late. "Consider me a judge in court, if you will. No state may take action without consent by majority vote, and my vote counts for more – all for our benefit, of course. Aside from that, I will be acting as our unified Commander-in-Chief. Is that suitable?"

Alain chuckled, "So basically, you act to make sure none of us gets overly ambitious and tries to overpower the rest of the council, is that right?"

"For the most part, yes."

Alain furrowed his brow as he thought for another long moment. The rest of the representatives kept their eyes fixed on him, awaiting what he may say next. Finally he said, "Prove to me your intentions are just."

"How so?"

"If this union is to be, we shall make it an obligation of your's to dedicate yourself to the tasks we see to be our objectives, and if you stray then we may remove you from power."

"What do you believe our objectives to be?"

"As you said yourself, you want power to unify this world. Then naturally, our objectives would be the fall of the New Federation of Europe – specifically, their dictator Schneizel El Britannia – and the Holy Britannian Empire. Surely you wanted power because you realized fighting both on your own would be folly?"

Lelouch nodded, "You are insightful indeed. I had not foreseen Schneizel going so far in his bid for power, not initially." He ran a hand through his hair and cast a glance in Suzaku's direction; Suzaku was smirking, much to Lelouch's surprise. Clearly, his knight was gaining an affinity for these more sinister acts, an affinity he thought only he had. "At any rate," Lelouch went on, "if this is to be, then I have terms of my own."

"Which would be?"

"The disbanding of all military forces to all member states. These military forces will instead be made part of my Anti-Britannian Front, which shall hereafter be simply the United States Army, and the unified military force will be placed under my control to fulfill the aforementioned objectives," Lelouch explained. He had half expected to be met with cries of outrage, but instead he was met with mostly nods and the occasional skeptical glance.

Alain was one of the ones who had nodded. "But what of security? Naturally we need a police force to protect ourselves."

"I shall grant all nations my protection, as I have with Japan; you will be supplied with the best I can offer – without limiting my own resources, of course – in the way of Knightmare Frames and other artillery, for self-defense." Again Lelouch was met with nods, this time more enthusiastic, though there was still a small reluctance that Lelouch noticed despite how well it was hidden. "Then I believe we have an agreeable situation. Will you all agree to these terms and accept me as your King, to watch over and protect this union, and to strive to create a peaceful world?"

Though it could have been expected at that point, the response was unanimous. And thus, the United States ratified its charter, a feat of unity not seen since the initial formation of the Euro Universe, and even then a feat that surpassed all other feats like it. The rest of the meeting centered around that point, ending several hours later when all parties were satisfied, which was far easier than Lelouch – or anyone else – could have anticipated. Such a meeting would normally have taken days upon days to complete.

As Lelouch took leave of the room ahead of everyone else, he was quickly made very aware of the tugging sensation on his arm. The next thing he was aware of was the sudden shift in scenery as he was pulled into a separate room by small but powerful hands, that could have only belonged to a child and yet were infinitely more powerful than his own. Rolo, of course, Lelouch decided immediately. And sure enough, his Geass-imbued aide was standing in front of him as he came to, his violet eyes flashing with what could either have been a fierce determination of a childish amusement – odd as it was, Lelouch saw both.

"How did it go in there?" Rolo asked suddenly, though Lelouch could tell he was dancing around the desired subject of conversation.

"As well as could be expected," Lelouch replied nonchalantly. Eager to change the subject and escape the possibility of his inner glee being found out, he asked, "What did you need?"

Rolo's eyes glazed over with what could only be described as triumph. Triumph for what, exactly, Lelouch was at a loss. Nonetheless, Rolo looked rather proud to be the one imparting upon Lelouch whatever information it was he had. Frowning in impatience, Lelouch urged, "Out with it."

"I found the new hideout for the Geass Directorate remnants," Rolo said in an obnoxiously childish sing-song tone of voice, and if it were possible the pride radiating from him increased ten fold.

On account of that pride that Lelouch had occupied himself with understanding, it took him several seconds to grasp what it was Rolo had just said. As soon as it sunk in Lelouch's eyes widened marginally and he gasped out, "Where?"

"Kaminejima," Rolo responded quickly. At Lelouch's urging he added, "A Thought Elevator – like the one in the old Directorate hideout – is there."

"Good," Lelouch acknowledged, smirking viciously. "Good work, Rolo." And then, in a gesture that was worthy of being caught on camera, Rolo thought, Lelouch smiled warmly. In a tone barely above a whisper, clearly spoken with great trepedition, Lelouch muttered, "Thank you."

The rarety of Lelouch's appreciation left Rolo stunned for a moment, though he quickly composed himself enough to say, in a voice far too indifferent to convince even himself, "What do you want to do, then? Shall we go meet with V.V.?"

Lelouch nodded swiftly, "You and I will go with the Vincent and the Gawain. Even if we cannot kill him, we can at least make V.V. our prisoner."

o---o

Perhaps, Lelouch thought, power was corrupting him. Why else would he be in such good spirits after solidifying himself as the King of a union of nations strong enough to rival Britannia? Why else would he suddenly feel as though he could do whatever he wished – not that he hadn't in the past, but that fact was completely irrelevant to the subject at hand – and that, should he choose to, he could become God himself? Not that he'd ever want to; immortality such as C.C.'s was one thing and the surreal power of the Geass was another, but omnipotence was above and beyond either and Lelouch truly had no desire for such a thing.

The controls of the Gawain felt heavenly in his hands, yet another sign of power that he could display at any time he so wished, used at his whim to do his bidding. Power that surpassed the sheer power just about any other had. His thumbs hovered over the small buttons that would fire the massive Hadron cannons the moment he ordered it; his thumbs were mere inches away from being able to destroy just about anything before him. That kind of power was surreal even to Lelouch. Not as surreal as the Geass, naturally, but they were entirely different forms of power that both served their limitless usefulness. While the Geass played on his naturally deceptive and calculating mind, the Gawain calculated and compensated for his lack of piloting skill. Really, how much skill did it take to pilot of Frame that was designed with analysis purposes and sheer animalistic destruction in mind? Both suited Lelouch more than he'd like to admit, he added as an afterthought.

Today that overwhelming power would not be directed at his father or his brother in matters of the utmost importance on a global scale, however, although that didn't bother him one bit. Small steps, after all, had been the foundation of his swift rise to power. Which was ironic in and of itself, given that in less than a year he had attained a power as great as the power that took Britannia many generations and just as many conquests to achieve. His power was born of his own strength rather than the strength of those around him, and it lacked the solid foundation that Britannia or even the demolished Euro Universe had. The United States, indeed, was a delicate balance that had to be monopolized as it was to stand a chance at remaining stable.

But at the same time, it was the closest thing to a truly unified power that the world had. Britannia was loved only by it's own and hated by all else, and the NFE was born of dictatorship and so would die in dictatorship. The United States was born of a unified desire, centered around the strength of one whom they believed could make their dreams into realities. They were a fanatical bunch, if nothing else, but that small discrepancy aside the fact remained that the United States had the greatest chance at a longlasting existence. More or less.

"Rolo," Lelouch called pensively, eyes scanning the vast expanse of sea below for any glimpse of land. "Where is this place?"

"Ah..." Rolo paused abruptly, and it occurred to Lelouch then that he hadn't chosen the best of guides for this. But his hands were tied in the matter, given Rolo's status as the sole person amongst Lelouch's own that could have led him at this point. "It's a small island," Rolo continued suddenly, with a confidence that almost made it seem like this small bit of information was helpful. "I found it just off the coast of the waters near the Tokyo Settlement."

"How do you know of this place?"

"Once I saw it, I knew," Rolo said quietly. "I was brought here several times in my youth, while the Directorate was training me."

Lelouch ignored whatever else it was that Rolo was saying as he focused on the expanse of water below or, more importantly, the small island that had just become visible in the distance. It seemed covered almost entirely by lush forest, a rarity that Lelouch hadn't really expected to see. "Is that it?" Lelouch asked suddenly, cutting off whatever it was that Rolo had moved on to saying.

"That's it," Rolo replied quickly.

Lelouch pushed himself into a steep descent toward the island, eyes already scanning it for a place with as few trees as possible where he could safely land while still allowing easy access to the large cave he'd already spotted near the north end. Which was where, he suspected, V.V. was waiting for him.

When finally he landed and shut down the Gawain, Rolo having landed beside him and climbing out of his Vincent in turn, the sun was disappearing behind the rocky wall before them. Lelouch lowered himself to the ground, immediately glad to be feeling anything but the nonexistant air beneath his feet. It was an unfortunate side effect that came with prolonged use of the Gawain, but Lelouch suspected he was acquitting himself nicely to the sensation of moving on air. After all, it wasn't that much different than piloting an aircraft, in theory, right?

"Through there," Rolo whispered, pointing to the small crack-like opening that looked like it could fit barely one man. "The Thought Elevator is in there. They have placed many mind-based traps around, but I think you should be okay so long as you keep your Geass hidden and C.C. is not with you."

"That witch?" Lelouch coughed, glancing away from Rolo momentarily. "I'd not trust her farther than I can throw her at the moment."

"Yes, well, that is hardly relevant," Rolo said monotonously. "V.V. is still in there – I can feel him. And he knows we're here."

"Indeed I do, Rolo," V.V. said, suddenly standing at the entranceway of the previously pointed out opening. Lelouch remained unresponsive to his sudden presence. "I've been waiting, Lelouch."

"I presumed as much," Lelouch replied nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders casually, letting the resounding noises of their respective cracks fill the air. "Had you not, you would not be here still. Am I right?"

"As perceptive as Charles," V.V. quipped, taking pleasure in Lelouch's involuntary twitch at the comment. "Though there is one difference between you two I've noticed. Care to explain, Lelouch?"

"And what would that be?" Lelouch asked in kind, though he didn't sound curious at all.

"Why, pray tell, are you moving so slowly? With your Geass, you could have taken over Area 11 in a month. You know the right people to Geass, and you know how best to use them." V.V. smirked at Lelouch's discomfort, before striking home and saying, "You simply... didn't. You showed compassion, when in reality you should not have the capacity for such a thing. Why is that?"

A tense silence followed his question. Rolo looked back and forth between the two questioningly, and Lelouch glared with every bit of malice he could muster – which was a lot, he thought, amused by the fact – at V.V., his eyes taking in every bit of that God damned smirk that V.V. had the audacity to wear so easily. Worse, though, was what he had said of Lelouch. How dare he! Surely he knew the answer, and surely he knew exactly where the scattered fragments of compassion in Lelouch's heart had come from. He just wanted the satisfaction of seeing Marianne's son – the son who had been disowned and left without a mother in a fashion so painful that he should have been filled with such hate that he would have used anything and anyone for revenge – in discomfort, and in that regard he was certainly succeeding.

"And with the Gawain," V.V. went on, because clearly – according to Lelouch, at any rate – he was not satisfied with his victory thus far. And if he knew Lelouch as well as Lelouch suspected he did, than he would not be satisfied until he had struck at the very core of Lelouch's pride – his ego, and his overwhelmingly vast knowledge, though the latter was harder to strike at and quite possibly a byproduct in some regard to his ego. "Though the Gawain was acquired more recently, and is clearly not as useful as your Geass. Even so, had you wanted to you could have eliminated entire brigades of Britannian forces without breaking a sweat, and you have piloting talents that bring shame to your mother's name. So why, when you had all this power, did you not use it?"

And again, silence met his question. Though rather than being a tense silence born of Lelouch's annoyance, Rolo's curiosity and V.V.'s amusement, this one was born solely of Lelouch's refusal to answer the question. V.V. had gained a lot already, but he was not about to strip Lelouch of his ego. No, to do that he would have to fight much harder than he was now. And Lelouch presumed, or hoped rather, that V.V. had more important matters than carrying on such a battle.

"At any rate," V.V. continued, confirming Lelouch's presumptions and hopes, "you know why I have not run."

"Either you don't see me as a threat, or you see more merit in making use of me." Lelouch scowled down at V.V., digging one hand into his pocket while running the other through his hair. "Either way, you'll find I am no easier to control than my father, I am sure."

"I do not want to control you," V.V. said softly, though Lelouch could tell he was reluctant to say it, for whatever reason. "However, you are more reasonable than Charles. And he... seems to not care about anything but his own ends anymore."

"That is how it has always been," Lelouch laughed. "He has always sacrificed what he thinks he doesn't need in favor of what he wants." And then Lelouch pointed to himself and raised an eyebrow, eyes dancing with a bitter amusement.

To his bemusement, V.V. appeared to ignore Lelouch's quip, frowning and hanging his head slightly. "Lelouch, what has she told you? Of Geass, that is."

"Only it's nature," Lelouch responded, curious as to the sudden subject change. Mysteries pertaining to the Geass were, after all, things he absolutely had to know. Having such a powerful weapon without knowing a thing about it could prove disastrous later – probably sooner, however.

"So she has not told you that Geass is not a power at all?"

Lelouch's eyebrow rose again, and Lelouch felt like quite the fool when he uttered dumbly, "What?"

"Geass is not a power at all; it is a way of life. An extinct way of life, but a way of life all the same." V.V. began pacing, occasionally looking up at Lelouch from the corner of his eye. "I tell you this not because I want to, but rather because I feel that if I do you may realize what it is Charles wants. What he wants is not what it has always been, you see."

Lelouch grunted his acknowledgment.

"At any rate, Geass dates back to, and this is subject to interpretation depending upon whom tells the story, back before the birth of mankind. Mankind as you know it, anyway." V.V. stopped his pacing, looking up at Lelouch with an expression of such anguish that he almost believed it to be genuine. It was hidden behind a mask of indifference but seconds later. "The Geass Directorate is essentially as our kind always was; a society solely composed of people who have Geass.

"This is how the world was for centuries, or perhaps only decades – I know not. Around the time of the Big Bang, our people, save for very few, were wiped out. The integrated themselves within normal society as it began to form, but before long they were revealed and, systematically, were killed. It came to the point where the Geass Directorate was necessary, else we all would have died. We began forming contracts, rebuilding our own bit by bit. It was selfish and naive of us to think things could be as they were, but it didn't stop us from trying."

"And what Charles wants," Lelouch concluded, "is to return the Geass Directorate to normal society. A world without malice, where only the strong survive... those with the Geass are strong, and would therefore be accepted."

"That is how it was, at first," V.V. nodded, frowning petulantly. "But over time, this ideal gave way to madness. He no longer believes that society can redeem itself. He wants to erase society, and return the world to the state it was in prior to the Big Bang. He wants a world composed only of those with the Geass, or people like I – those with the Code."

"You speak about all of this," Lelouch commented, though he didn't sound surprised – and he wasn't – in the least, "as though you have lived through it."

"The Code brings that curse upon you. When you receive it, usually when a contractor is sorely wounded and decides to pass it on so they may die, you get with it the memories of our people. They are vague at best and I know not of a single person from the past, but the experiences and the hardships are all there."

"The Code, I assume..." Lelouch said slowly, piecing things together in his mind at a frightening speed only he was truly capable of. "... Is the immortality? The Geass is a toy to the people with Code, who create Geass of their own will and are immune to it themselves."

Nodding solemnly, V.V. said, "And in exchange, we receive an eternity of torment, living to see the same things over and over again. It will never end, not for us."


Okay, there are two things to note in relation to the last scene. Point one is that I had intended to include a little more, which may be obvious in the abrupt way with which it ended. But I decided against it for the simple reason of adding a little bit of surprise to the next chapter – more than there already is abound, at any rate. Second is that it is entirely likely that it seems vastly different than the rest of the chapter, but that is because my more recent work has forced me to adopt a more pre-modern writing style that might have shown more than I would have liked.

Also, I won't say when I will have the next chapter complete, but with any luck this returning muse of mine will not run away on me again.