Reception for last chapter was generally what I anticipated it being, because I felt the same way when I went over it after posting it. The chapter itself seemed very choppy, with just little snippets of things here and there that really didn't seem all that important because they were all so independent of one another. And the parts that actually did matter were dulled by the fact that their true importance is in this second half, and I hadn't anticipated in doing so that cutting the chapter in half would affect it so greatly. That definitely was my bad, though it doesn't excuse all of the faults that were in last chapter. I just got impatient with some things and didn't give them the effort I probably should have, I suppose. I guess I can expect that being the case a little bit, what with me having almost no drive to write this for a long time.
And in regards to Charles, monkey kix ass, that was not a blunder or anything of the sort. In characterizing Charles, I've always thought him to be the sort that remains that sort of aloof and detached attitude toward things until it directly endangers him (ie. his sudden shift in attitude with Lelouch in ep 20 when he destroyed the Thought Elevator). In this case, while Schneizel was bothersome to him, it didn't affect him directly, much like Lelouch. The more serious side of Charles gets plenty of focus, don't worry (and no he will not be getting an annoyingly premature death like R2 gave him, though his death was the catalyst of my favorite scene in all of R2 – Lelouch's pseudo-coup d'etat, his epic theft of the Britannian throne, whatever you feel like calling it; I watched that scene at least fifty times while writing this chapter), it just isn't yet.
But I am glad to see such interest in my ideas pertaining to Geass. The majority of them are revealed here in this half, so hopefully the more impatient of you lot will be willing to kindly put down the pitchforks and other anti-author weaponry. Hopefully. God knows I'd deserve it if you decided not to; that last chapter was a sad excuse of a, "Hey, I'm back!" gift. It really was.
Cornelia Li Britannia was many things. She was the leader of Britannia's esteemed Royal Knights, the champion of more than her fair share of battles and a fighter like no other that even the best of the world's aces had trouble keeping up with; it would be no boast to say that, in a world where tactics had no value, she would be invincible. And she knew this. Hell, prideful as she was, she flaunted these facts. But with them came certain standards. Standards that were to be upheld no matter where or when, and to be abided by no matter what. There were no exceptions to these standards, punishable by a lifetime of self-loathing and disgust.
And one of them that she never, ever paced. She never, ever showed nervousness, openly or otherwise. So why was she pacing? And worrying at her lip like it was some chewthing designed for her to vent her frustrations on? Neither were things that fit the profile of the enviable Second Princess Cornelia, things that would make her appear weak to those who saw her as the epitome of strong. Among the women of Britannia's noble ranks, she was the most desireable, more so even than First Princess Guinevere, and that would be shattered if they knew she was capable of being nervous, capable of feeling threatened like any other human. No longer would she be above such human emotions.
Growling under her breath, Cornelia turned and punched the wall. Unlike the walls of the palace, made either of a perfectly polished stone or marble, the walls of the Great Britannia were of a fine metal, ultimately resulting in the loud cracking of her knuckles as they came into contact with the hard surface. She felt no pain from the action – if it even was there, it was blocked out by her subconscious and her insurmountable frustration – thankfully, and she followed up by punching the wall with her other hand.
Why, why did she have to feel nervous? It was her father! The Emperor Charles Di Britannia, imposing though he was, should not have such power over her. Unlike many both in court and in the army, when she returned to deliver word of success in subduing an area or to deliver intel recovered from the odd reconnaissance mission she did not flinch under the condescendingly disapproving stare he would send her. She would not flinch when he cooly dismissed even the finest of her successes, saying something like, "So you are worth something to Britannia," regardless of how many times she proved her worth. These were things she had been groomed to accept in passing since birth, and never had it bothered her.
But now... now, he was different. No longer was he just that condescending, almost arrogant and all too haughty Emperor that she'd been proud to serve not as his daughter but as the Commander of his Royal Knights – and he'd never have it any other way, too. Now she saw him as a frightening man, drawn into the same mysterious shroud of darkness that had descended upon Schneizel and Lelouch, corrupted them utterly and turned her half-brothers into demons. It would not be a stretch to say he too had become a demon, if what Lelouch had said of Clovis proved true. And if that were the case, then there would be no denying that the world was at the mercy of demons who would tear it apart sooner than they'd do any real good to it.
And to make matters worse, that demon – Britannia's demon, as opposed to the United States' demon or the NFE's demon – was now so frightening she could hardly stand the thought of facing him. She had paced and paced, with the doorway to the command center just ten feet away, unable to muster the courage that had once been an unlimited resource in order to face him. He would probably dismiss her question anyway, say that she was being foolish to believe the words of others and that Britannia's truths are the only real truths – something idealistic like that would be a fitting thing for him to say, after all.
"This is foolish," she muttered under her breath, kicking her foot idly. "He must answer for his crimes, and I will decide whether or not Lelouch can be trusted."
That being said, the matter of confronting His Majesty, the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire became a matter of confronting Charles Di Britannia, a man who may or may not be as unjust an Emperor as Cornelia feared one of his successors – and was now certain several of his potential successors were – would be. Steeling herself, Cornelia strode into the command center proudly, ignoring the gawking looks much of the crew sent her way as she did so, as if they weren't aware she was even on the ship despite the fact that much of them had greeted her when her transport arrived that morning. From his seat Charles, surrounded by much of the crew, sent her a brief look, as if he were already aware of the reason behind her arrival.
"Leave," Charles commanded gruffly, glancing in turn to each and every one of his crew members. They all stood, hastening to leave while Charles readjusted himself in his seat subtly, glaring at Cornelia. "Speak."
"During my recent operations in the Tokyo Settlement, I spoke with Lelouch," Cornelia started, pacing from side to side in a way much like a prowling animal, which was much more in her element than things like pety nervousness or fidgety behaviour. "He alerted me of things that, had he not shown me proof of, I'd not believe existed. And I was made to believe you too know of it; am I wrong in believing his words?"
"A liar spoke some truth," Charles said cryptically, remaining still as a statue. "Yes, the Geass is quite real. And I am not so foolish as to be unaware of it. Schneizel yet remains in the dark, but he too shall soon learn the truth."
"So it is true that you too posess the Geass?" she pressed, willing herself to manage a glare from the corner of her eye as she paced. "And that you manipulated Clovis into being the man he was during the war over Area 11?"
"And what if I did?" Charles sneered, completely unaffected by the look in Cornelia's eyes, one that would have rendered anybody else immobile with fear. "He was weak, and he knew when he was born as my son that strength was the only thing that gave him worth. Without strength, he was worthless, and thus needed to be used by the strong. Such is how Britannia is."
Cornelia stopped pacing, staring down her father with as much intensity as he granted her. "I will not accept such a law, Your Majesty. He was not deserving of such a thing!"
"So you would become weak too..."
"No," Cornelia shot back heatedly, shaking her head to emphasize her point. "It is because I am strong that I deny your law. It seemed like idealistic nonsense, but Lelouch was not wrong in saying that we need to protect the weak. Disposing of them because they failed is just..."
"Inhumane?" Charles finished menacingly. He clapped his hands, and in scant seconds Cornelia was on her knees with four guards, all dressed in the finest of Britannia military uniform, pinning her to the ground. "If you believe so, then I shall find a more suitable use for the weak. Starting with you."
o---o
Codes, the truth of Geass, societies from centuries past... Had anyone but he heard of such things, Lelouch presumed they would have not believed it. But Lelouch had seen much since he finally decided to take matters into his own hands and change the world, and he knew better than to doubt such things. His eyes, with the power to enslave any he saw fit to, were a testament to that. But this information and, more importantly, how to use it was a different matter entirely. His father's aim was far more idealistic than he could have possibly anticipated, and while it didn't surprise him as much as it disgusted him, Lelouch couldn't help but feel as though he should've seen such a thing coming. For all of his perceptiveness, after all, it hadn't amounted to much where it mattered most.
What would this make of his plans? Charles' plans went far beyond simple matters of world politics and global conquest, into matters of extinction and world reformation... What use was thinking of world poitics in a world that was to be subject to such a thing? No, he couldn't dare think like that... Charles would be stopped, and world politics would still be important in the wake of his ultimate failure. The fighting would continue, there would continue to be prejudice, hatred... things that needed to be removed in order to create a unified and peaceful world. One that could properly look toward the future. One that was not ruled by Britannia and it's increasingly ruthless reign.
"So you did meet him," C.C. said dryly, leaning her head forward from her position sprawled across his bed, arms folded carelessly behind her neck. "And you know the truth."
The truth... He knew more than she was implying, Lelouch was sure. "C.C. cannot be trusted," V.V. had said, although he had not explained why. C.C. was trustworthy, though, right? She wasn't like the Black Knights or the Chinese... She was his ally. His comrade. She wasn't a means to a mutual end, at least not in the same regard Xingke and the Black Knights were. She did have goals that she needed him for, yes, but they were comrades in that quest... right? Or was he, as he feared she viewed him, a tool to that end? Somebody she feigned kindness toward as a means to an end, lying and deceiving like...
... Like his family had, when he was exiled. The people who had shipped him to Japan as a political hostage, disclosing nothing of his mother's fate. Was she one of the people he hated most, then? Or was she, unlike the Black Knights and the Chinese – both of whom were comrades that had mutual benefits from aiding him, a trustworthy ally that would still be by his side when all was said and done, be that with him uniting the world or with him living some depressingly reclusive life, like he had with Nunnally after they were placed in the care of the Ashford family?
"I doubt I will ever understand it entirely," Lelouch replied evasively. "I'm sure I am far too young to understand that sort of thing, am I right?"
"Age has nothing to do with it," C.C. said quietly, gesturing to her own hardly teenaged body, looking younger than even himself. "It's about whether or not you understand what it's like to be bound by time."
"Time..." Lelouch echoed just as quietly, tossing the word around in his mind. She was obviously speaking of her status as an ageless immortal, though how exactly that helped one understand the roots of her existence escaped Lelouch for reasons not even he was sure of. But now, with the thought in his mind, the idea of being an immortal himself was all the more appealing. What if that was what she wanted? Perhaps she wanted him to take her immortality, to thrust him into the endless stream of time while she was left to finally die after so long. No... Lelouch dismissed that thought immediately. If that were the case, she'd have already forced her immortality on him – supposing that were possible – and killed herself. Her desires were beyond a petty need to die, and while she had grown sick of living Lelouch had long since figured out that it was her loneliness that spawned this despair and any possible necessity to die. No, her goals were different... but in what way?
"It doesn't matter how much you have suffered," she added. "Only we truly know what it feels like to be bound by misery, to feel nothing but it for so long that you begin to forget how old you are, then what year it is and, before long, forget about the passage of time entirely. For me, I will still be as I am now long after you have died."
"You have lived far longer than V.V., and he wasn't alone," Lelouch went on, glancing at C.C. from the corner of his eye warily, slightly suspecting of her motives for being so open. Naturally, knowing her, opening up wasn't some impulsive action – only things pertaining to pizza merited impulse, as far as she was concerned. "You are not alone, though. If you are to be bound by time, so too shall I. And then, because it has been just us since the beginning, we will finish what I started and break time's spell ourselves."
She chuckled, sitting up and flipping her hair over her ear exaggeratedly. "Charles said the same thing long ago, you know..." She paused for a moment, allowing that statement to properly settle before she added, "... To your mother," with a sly, very mischievous glance in his direction. Like the ones she frequently gave him before things grew as complicated as they were, back when there wasn't any confusion in where their relationship stood. The C.C. that was hardly serious about anything, even his own survival.
"What do you know of my mother?" Lelouch asked, adjusting himself in his throne-like seat so that he could properly face C.C. on his bed. He had felt inclined to ask of his father as well, for surely C.C. knew something he likely didn't, but the inherent stubborn nature within him wouldn't allow him to express the slightest interest in his father, the man that was to be blamed not only for his corruption but also the corruption of the world entirely, who's sins thrice overcame any that anybody else could possibly have. At least, Lelouch believed so.
As was her wont, however, C.C. shrugged and turned on her side, back facing Lelouch. "Your father didn't want to exile you."
Lelouch would have taken the time to wonder why she had said something like that, especially when it was an obvious lie, but he humored her and her spontaneity regardless. "What do you mean?"
Looking over her shoulder, C.C. smirked ferally in a manner that, were he not already sufficiently acclimated to it, would have sent chills running down Lelouch's spine. "Charles saw himself in you, boy. When your mother was killed, he exiled you because he knew that you, being like him, would fight back. He wanted you to be strong the only way he knew how."
"My father saw me as weak, a liability that wasn't worth his care," Lelouch retorted. He stood up suddenly, removing the contact from his left eyes and letting the single Geass infused eye to linger over C.C.'s face for longer than was probably necessary. "I took the time to care for the death of my mother – I showed genuine emotion. For that, I was declared weak and a failure of a prince, such that I was no longer worthy of bearing his name.
"There are different kinds of love, of course. The love of a mother to her children, of lovers, of close friends... Charles Di Britannia knows not these emotions. All he feels is the satisfaction of his own bigotry, the boundless arrogance and malice that came with letting himself be drawn in by the power of his position." He removed the other contact from his eye, staring down at C.C. so intently that, were it possible and were she not immune to it, he surely could have used his Geass through will alone. "He sent me away, C.C., and he stopped caring whether I lived or died, just as he didn't care that my mother had been assassinated. Like mother, he spared not a thought for myself or Nunnally."
"No," C.C. deadpanned, rolling into a sitting position and crossing her legs. "He did send you away, but he did so because you would stop feeling love, caring only for your hatred toward him. This, he believed, would make you stronger and truly make you the equal he'd seen you could be. I presume this is no longer the case, as his insanity has replaced all thoughts of the world with thoughts of his own twisted ideals, but at that time he had your future – distorted or not – in mind."
"Such a man..." Lelouch muttered, deciding it was best not to argue his father's twisted sense of right and wrong with her. "What was his childhood like? Surely you know, if you know this much."
"Marianne told me much, and V.V. told me the rest," C.C. admitted casually. "Your father came from a time far worse than these, however, so it can be expected that he would be as he is now."
"Meaning?" Lelouch deadpanned.
"He had nearly as many siblings as you, many of which aspired to be the next Emperor, after your grandfather." Lelouch nodded, waving a hand exaggeratedly to urge her onward. "When the 97th Emperor was assassinated without a decided successor, Britannia was consumed in a private civil war amongst it's many heirs. Each abused their respective authorities to overcome the others and take the throne for themselves. And several succeeded, though their reigns were several days at most before they were forced from the throne and the fighting began anew.
"Your father, but a boy of twelve at the time, and his older brother, Vortigem Di Britannia, were of the few that chose not to fight during this time. They hid, believing that so long as they could trust in one another, someday the feud would end and the successorship would be secured."
"But it never was," Lelouch concluded, "until Charles took the throne."
"Indeed, but hundreds upon thousands of lives were lost – mostly civilian casualties – in the process," C.C. corrected, looking down into her lap almost shyly. "In the end, the streets of Pendragon were deserted. People feared the fighting of the many princes and hid. Children who were foolish enough to leave their homes typically died, caught in the brutal crossfire of one battle or another. During this time, fifteen year old Vortigem Di Britannia obtained the Geass. With it, he and Charles put an end to the fighting, killing all of his siblings. Charles was named the 98th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire and, now corrupted by a vision of the Geass' power, turned Britannia into the darwinistic nation it is now."
Lelouch nodded, looking away from C.C.'s smoldering and condescending gaze. "And Vortigem became V.V., right?"
"Correct."
"And when he got the Code, they learned of your past and set out to return the Geass to society?" Lelouch questioned, wondering just why he really cared about the irrelevant details of the matter.
Nodding, C.C. said, "And you know the rest."
"So my father truly had such a hard childhood..." Lelouch sighed, running a hand through his hair while the other replaced his contacts once again. "Regardless, he is beyond salvation. Even if I were to believe he knew such emotions as love and compassion, he no longer does. For the sake of the world, for the sake of my mother's justice, I cannot relent. I will see him dead by my own hand."
"Sir," a voice sounded from the other side of the ornate wooden door that sealed off Lelouch's quarters, "you have visitors."
"Visitors?"
"Knights Gilbert Guilford and Andreas Darlton, from the Viceroy's Palace."
Lelouch and C.C. shared a look, but before Lelouch could voice his curiosity about the matter the door opened, revealing his half-sister's knight and her close aide, both in full military uniform and saluting as though he were the Princess herself. In addition they were both wearing thin visors that kept their eyes from his view, confirming his suspicion that Cornelia's knowledge of his Geass had not been kept in strict confidence. Lelouch waved a hand to dismiss their formality, gesturing toward two chairs on either side of the doorway while the door was closed by a man dressed in full Black Knights regalia behind them. "Surely my sister has more trust in me than to send her men protected as you are?" Lelouch snarked petulantly, looking them each over in turn.
"Necessary precautions," Darlton replied calmly, taking the offered seat. His broad shoulders made the seat seem absolutely tiny, barely capable of holding his large body. Comparatively, Gilford fit into his seat much like Lelouch fit into his throne. "But we have not come on Her Highness' orders."
"Oh?" Lelouch pressed, returning to his seat and crossing one leg over the other, patiently awaiting due explanation while he turned in his seat to properly face the two Knights.
"We will get right to the point," Darlton snapped, taking a second to glare in C.C.'s direction – though he knew not who she was, Lelouch suspected Darlton was wary of a woman dressed in nothing but a shirt that clearly belonged to Lelouch laying on his bed, watching them like a panther would it's prey. "Her Highness is being accused of collaborating with you to restore Area 11 – what is left of it, that is – to the Eleven... Japanese. His Majesty has taken her captive."
"And you want me to mobilize my forces and head for the capital?"
"No," Gilford said, a bit hurriedly. The thought of such treason clearly bothered him more than he let on. "We believe His Majesty is doing it to draw you out, to get you to meet with him on his terms. Already he has left the Great Britannia under the command of the Knight of Nine and the Knight of One, and is en route to an island near the Tokyo Settlement."
"Kaminejima," Lelouch corrected.
"We know not what the place is," Darlton went on. "But if Her Highness is in danger, it is our duty as her Knights to prioritize her safety."
Lelouch paused to consider that for a moment. His father wanting to meet with him meant he had an opportunity to end things. Surely he was more after C.C. than he was after his own son, but that didn't matter. And if he could save Cornelia... It would be the catalyst necessary to turn their recent ceasefire into an alliance. And if they could make the Tokyo Settlement the capital of the United States, the effect it would have on morale would be tremendous. Not to mention it would give them the opportunity to properly secure their position and prepare for the next phase...
"You will come with me, then," Lelouch said as he stood, walking toward the walk-in closet on the far side of the room. Within, he pulled out his mask and his cape, putting both on in turn. "If I can create a miracle, will you trust me enough to convince my sister to ally with me?"
"Ally with you?"
"Surely you now see it," Lelouch drawled, throwing a hand into the air. The sound of his voice came out deeper through his mask, filling him with the joyous sensation of power that Zero granted him. "My father is no longer fit to be Emperor. Like myself, he has a mysterious power, as you know. He also intends to use it improperly, and it is my duty to stop him. Tell my sister to side with me, and you may do as you wish when we have purified your nation."
o---o
The last time he had been here, but three days ago, he had learned that his father was a depraved madman bent on some self-satisfying ideal that could very well have been taken from stories, for how surreal it was. And now here he was, under the guise of the man whom had started everything, going back to the very place the man beneath the mask started. Charles Di Britannia, after nearly a decade of waiting, would answer for the loss of Marianne Vi Britannia. Lelouch would know the truth and, depending upon what that truth may be, would make his father answer for it. He was due for at least that much, regardless of his crimes to everyone else he had wronged in his long reign.
The walk from where Darlton had landed their transport plane to the Thought Elevator itself was long, through a dense forest that seemed to go on without end. Lelouch, despite being against even the slightest exertion that wasn't necessary, found the walk to relieve him greatly. He needed time to think, of course, of what to say to his father and how best to go about outsmarting him. Surely Charles had accounted for the possibility of C.C. not coming with him, and may have even predicted it. Which meant that he must have something else in mind, presuming C.C. was even what he was after, that Lelouch would both need to predict and overcome. But what could it be? The trick of triggering an instance like what had happened in the Geass Directorate wouldn't work without C.C. nearby, meaning that even if there were such traps they were worthless. But then, what else could he have planned? Unless he thought having his own daughter as a hostage was enough?
Beneath the seldom used mask of Zero the air was humid, making the already very tight clothing cling all the more tightly to his sweat-covered skin, giving a feeling akin to the feeling of wet swimming trunks clinging to his legs. His raven dark hair clung to his face just as tightly, shining off of his mask and back into his eyes from the sweat drenching them. Like any forest, it seemed Kaminejima's forest simply would not allow for casual weather, leaving him feeling like the proverbial ant under the magnifying glass. To add to his annoyance, Darlton and Guilford seemed perfectly content in such weather. How they did was beyond Lelouch, though it could very well have been from all the hours spent in the cockpit of a KMF under his dear half-sister's command. Damn soldiers.
"What could be in such a place as this?" Guilford asked, looking at Lelouch – Zero, as they presently saw him – from the corner of his eye. "Surely nothing of any value is here."
"To him, what is here is of the greatest value," Lelouch replied cryptically. "The Geass Directorate's remains and the Kaminejima Thought Elevator... the center of all the remains of Geass' existence."
"Thought Elevator?" Darlton asked skeptically. "Sounds farfetched."
"I am not sure what it is," Lelouch admitted. "But it has ties to the Geass in some way or another, and you will see that it has been here for a very long time. Much longer than even we could guess."
"So it is something no man should be involved with..." Darlton sighed, grasping Lelouch's shoulder in his large hand. "You and His Majesty are truly demons, embracing such a thing."
"I don't care what others think of me," said Lelouch tensely, shrugging off the hand with a nudge of his shoulder. "If I do good in my lifetime, I will let future people – and even those of today – regard me as a demon."
Guilford chuckled wryly, stepping over an errant root and pushing a branch from his face as he went. "Her Highness would respect your convictions."
"And you don't?"
"I could never faithfully serve a demon."
Lelouch chuckled under his breath, letting the lingering sound of the boldened tone his mask granted it settle in their ears, pleasant and chilling at once. "My dear sister is a demon ten times over on the battlefield."
"On the battlefield, such behaviour is a boon," Darlton stated gruffly, eyes narrowing around the scar running across his face. "In a leader, such a thing is a symbol of tyranny."
"Tyranny is an evil I intend to remove."
"With more tyranny," Darlton quickly interrupted. "No good will ever come of using such methods to expel evil. Evil expelling evil shall leave evil in it's wake."
Lelouch let that comment linger, primarily due to the fact that he was, though he would never admit it, struck silent. It wasn't as though he was unfamiliar with the ways of the world and it's affinity for succumbing to evil, but he'd come to terms with that. While he did pride himself on the lingering remnants of the compassion he had allowed to dictate his actions, he also knew he would have to embrace the evil he was being corrupted by if he dared hope to create a lasting peace. And with his evil he would expel all other evil, and when all was said and done the world would see peace. No longer would religion, social barriers or race separate humanity. Humanity would be as one, and they would step toward tomorrow together.
Wouldn't they? Surely he wasn't being presumptuous in assuming this would occur, was he? No, that was simply impossible. If the peaks of society embraced such a reality, surely those beneath would follow suit. Never again would there be a need to hate, to loathe... Though surely not everybody would love their neighbors, it was not presumptuous to believe that enough people would to make a lasting change. Right?
For the first time, Lelouch felt unsure of the future. Would a future created by the Geass be truly ideal? Or would society crumble because the future they embrace was forced upon them by a power so terrible it could have forcefully steered them in such a direction from the beginning had it truly wanted to? A world that could as easily be a peaceful one of embracing one another as it could be a world of slavery, where everyone conformed to the will of the Geass. But how was that any different than what Charles and V.V. had wanted, both in the past and now? A world ruled by the Geass was not ideal, no matter what. No, a world made by the honest wills of those it encompasses was the ideal world tomorrow surely desired.
"There it is," Lelouch said evasively, pointing toward the narrow crack in the distant mountainside that had previously been identified as the entranceway to the Thought Elevator. Waitint there would be Charles and V.V., and the most important confrontation of Lelouch's revolution. The enemy of his tomorrow would finally be seen face to face, and finally would he be able to truly embrace that tomorrow. Too long had he been held back by the chains of his past, the need to justify his mother's death and avenge her plaguing him like a bothersome disease that refused to relent until it was satisfied. But that would now change. His mother would finally be able to rest in peace and he would be able to step toward tomorrow, moving without regret toward the blood-stained future that awaited him. There were bullets yet to be fired that weren't in the name of Marianne Vi Britannia, after all.
"Such a place..." Darlton sighed, stepping in front of Lelouch and sidestepping his way through the tiny opening. "I can see why so few know of it."
"Just as few know of this island," Lelouch remarked as he followed him, casually walking without fear of his shoulders, not nearly as broad as Darlton's, being battered by the rock on either side of him. "You would never find it if you weren't looking for it."
"So I see," he quipped in return, stepping out into the wide chamber beyond the small crack from which they had come. It looked, in Lelouch's opinion, similar to a shrine of sorts, with torches lining either side and the Geass symbol on the large door across from them shining a brilliant red. And in front of it stood Charles, staring them down intently while Cornelia lay at his feet, bound at the hands and feet and looking uncharacteristically helpless. It sickened Lelouch in a way, to see her in such a manner as that. Beside him was V.V., completely casual and at ease beside his younger yet much larger brother.
"Her Highness!" Guilford gasped, moving forward until Lelouch's arm caught his wrist. He turned his head and, though it was clearly reluctant, he nodded and stepped back.
"You would meet me with your lies?" Charles demanded, directing with a flick of the wrist to Lelouch's mask. "Are you still too weak to meet me as my son?"
"That has nothing to do with it," Lelouch drawled, running a gloved finger down the length of the tulip-shaped mask. "I am meeting you as the creator of miracles, the symbol of hope for the people who would deny you."
Chales laughed harshly, moving toward Lelouch with measured paces, the heavy falls of his feet resounding loudly against the stone ground. "That too is a lie, is it not? Beneath that mask lies a child, believing in such fairytales as miracles. The Geass is no such miracle!"
"I have more than the Geass!" Lelouch cried, tearing the mask from his head and tossing it aside, the other hand tracing over the contacts in his eyes, itching ever so slightly with the growing want to throw them away and bind his father to the Geass' power. "The will of the people, the desires of those around me... I do not rely on deceit and lies! Zero has created miracles by making the will of humanity reality!"
"Zero has created a web of lies, a mask of a demon!"
"No! Lelouch Lamperouge is a demon, a man willing to turn the world asunder to better it. Even when he dies, Zero shall remain to guide the hopeful, those who would desire change." Lelouch closed the remaining distance between himself and Charles, staring up at him with as much rage as he could muster, all of which paled in comparison to the naturally condescending and withering look he received from his father. "You are a liar, watching from above as those below you weave your deceitful webs, living the lives you have created for them! Britannia has no future; only a still-standing existence you have given it!"
"He is right," V.V. added, frowning as Charles looked back to glower at him. "You no longer care about a tomorrow we desired, brother. You have continued to lie, doing what suits only yourself and what you desire. No longer is it 'our' plan."
"This world is beyond salvation, brother," Charles replied scoldingly. "The only way to save it from it's own future is to reform it."
"A future built upon lies is not better!" Lelouch cried. "A world built upon such things is a world that satisfies only you! What about those you leave behind?! And mother?!"
Charles turned to glare at Lelouch, who in turn took a few steps back to properly match his father's glare. "Change always requires sacrifice. And so, I sacrificed what was unnecessary in the vision of the future. What tomorrow would not accept."
Something about the way he said it; the condescending undertone, the heartless words he spoke, the defiant way he spoke of such harshness... it made Lelouch snap. He threw aside his contacts with a flourish, and before his father could respond he said in a deathly serious tone, "Answer my questions."
Charles gritted his teeth in rage and looked ready to pounce on and kill Lelouch at any moment, but seconds later he suddenly relaxed, eyes falling to a half-close. "Of course."
"Did you kill mother?" Lelouch asked, maintaining the deathly tone his voice had acquired.
"I did."
Lelouch growled under his breath, mustering the will necessary to restrain himself from killing his father on the spot. It took more effort than he'd ever needed to keep his emotions in check, however. "Why did you kill mother?"
Charles' face remained blank, binded by the spell Geass put him under. Even blank as it was, Charles' lips curved in a depraved manner that struck Lelouch with a cold chill that he skillfully ignored. "She disagreed with the ideals of brother and I. She became weak."
"I see now..." Lelouch muttered, smiling slightly to himself at the revelation. "... So it really doesn't matter, does it?" He blinked finally, letting his watering eyes rest as Charles returned to his normal state of awareness. As soon as Charles became aware of things, he locked eyes with Lelouch, seeming to understand what had happened simply by their hateful exchange.
"Geass, hmm? You would go so far?"
Lelouch narrowed his eyes, revelling in the feel of his eyes not being hidden by the irritable contacts that hid his terrible power from those around him. "You are not above being judged by the Geass. Your world of lies, your sins, you are deserving more than all to tell the truth."
"You... fool!" Charles shouted, reaching for the handgun at his side. Lelouch remained unresponsive as the gun was pointed toward his face, staring down the barrel without so much as a flinch. Though to say he wasn't surprised would have been a lie of it's own, as he truly hadn't anticipated his father being so quick to succumb to his anger. Holding rein over his emotions apparently was not a trait he had inherited from the Emperor.
"That is enough, Charles," V.V. muttered reprimandingly, stepping between Lelouch and the gun, his long hair flowing behind him like a flourishing cape. "We have been too idealistic. The old plan was far better."
"You, brother..." Charles growled, watching in shellshocked rage as V.V. placed his hand over the barrel of the gun, inviting him to shoot. "I will not hold back for the sake of the plan, brother. That was our promise."
"Then fire."
Charles scoffed and threw his head back, though he didn't move the gun from it's place. "So Lelouch really..."
"Lelouch has nothing to do with this!" V.V. interrupted. "He is like you, brother. Too much so. But he is not so narrow-minded as to sacrifice the world for self-satisfaction."
All but steaming with fury, Charles pulled the trigger. The muffled sound of the gunshot rang through the air as slowly, deliberately, blood began to fall from the barrel and from V.V.'s hand. V.V. smirked as though there were nothing there, turning to Lelouch and nodding his head in invitation. "It is time I finished my job."
"Your job?" Lelouch echoed, stepping forward and staring at the gaping wound on the boy's palm.
"I have not aged since Charles and I were children. I have lived half of my life away as a child a sixth my own age. It is time I give that curse to another." And with that, his hand shot forward and grasped Lelouch's. As he remembered happening to him when C.C. first touched him, Lelouch was propelled into an astral plane within his own mind, where time and all other existences merged into an unfathomable existence not befitting of something as worldly as words. V.V.'s voice echoed in his mind, clear and above all else, "This is not a contract."
"This is an offering?" Lelouch asked, no longer surprised by hearing his own voice in his head.
"An offering," V.V. agreed. "You have power now, and you have dreams. I will do the only thing I can do, and give you the strength to use that power. Time will no longer matter – not only will you live in a different time, you will live in a world where time stands still. For you, there will be no end. You will be a sin to humanity, and that sin will be your curse. Will you accept this offering, knowing I will die the moment you accept? Knowing that, the moment you accept, you will bear the curse we have suffered since the beginning of time?"
"You were my greatest enemy's ally. You knew of my mother's death, and you lied because it suited you. You have sinned too, and you will atone. I will accept this offering, and with it free you and curse you. Give me your Code, and in doing so begin your atonement through death."
As soon as he finished, Lelouch's head felt light as images passed through it. Some familiar from when he had been struck mentally at the Geass Directorate, some unfamiliar such as seeing many people bearing the symbol of the Geass on their foreheads, moving throughout a medieval-like city that could have been from the Roman era. Commonplace were people with Geass flaring in their eyes, people with Geass markings on one part of their body or another. It was a society of only those with the Geass or the Code, people who transcended the society of today. There was no fighting, no hatred, no disagreements... Lelouch could see at once why his father would have wanted the return of such a world.
The next scene he saw in his mind's eyes froze him solid. On the stairs where his mother had died, with Nunnally beneath her and on the brink of insanity, stood his mother and C.C., calmly talking in the middle of the night. "He will make his move tonight," Marianne said quietly, gesturing toward the doorway where, Lelouch noticed this only then, no guards were standing. "He will kill me tonight. Will you continue?"
"We are cursed," C.C. replied cryptically, shrugging her shoulders. "To save our people from the curse of loneliness that binds us, I will use whoever I have to. Even your son, if it comes to it. He would be a good choice to finally end our loneliness, would he not?"
"Charles has plans for Lelouch," Marianne replied just as cryptically. "He wants to mold Lelouch into the perfect heir, knowing that Lelouch will not let the world remain as it is. Someday, by Charles' will or our's, Lelouch will kill him. Make sure it is by our will."
"So long as he is my tool in saving our people, I will do so," C.C. said, and then turned and walked away. The memory-esque scene ended there, returning Lelouch to his consciousness as V.V. released his hand and collapsed to the ground. Despite all the emotions running through him, Lelouch could feel his eyes tingling irritably as the Geass faded from existence within him, replaced with an inexplicably power in the very depths of his soul. It did nothing to ease the hurt and the pain he felt then, but he felt as though he could take his father down right there. He probably could, indeed, but something within him told him he wouldn't.
"He gave it up, huh..." Charles muttered, looking down at his brother's body, curled up at his feet with blood still pouring from his hand. "This makes things easier for me, though." He looked at Lelouch, as though judging his worth with his eyes. "Come here with C.C., and bear witness to the future."
"And if I don't?" Lelouch challenged, wondering why he felt compelled to consider such a request.
"You cannot defeat a plan that has not been layed, right?" Charles said mockingly. "You will never defeat me unless you face me on my terms."
o---o
The moment they got Cornelia into the transport plane and took off back toward the Tokyo Settlement, only one thought registered itself in Lelouch's mind... C.C.. Her betrayal of his trust, using him as a tool for her ideals, giving him much needed comfort to smokescreen her true desires all left him feeling so sick he could hardly imagine his skin maintained it's pale complexion. She would be waiting for him to return, not because she cared but because she wanted him to think she cared, even if she played their little game of pretending not to care that, now that Lelouch saw their partnership for what it was, wasn't a game to her at all.
Worse yet, her charade was so well played that he had not seen it coming. Betrayal would be easily seen were he in the right state of mind, and yet her betrayal of his trust and his care had been so unpredicted that he was still reeling from the revelation. She, who had given him the power that had started everything and saved his life countless times over, was a traitor. She was supposed to be his ally, the only one that would still stand by him when all was said and done and the mutual benefit that kept everybody else by his side had worn off. When the world no longer grasped the tips of his fingers or the heels of his shoes, she would still stand by him as an impervious shield. That was how it was meant to be.
"Dammit," Lelouch growled as he walked, Darlton and Guilford behind him as they strode through the halls of the Viceroy's Palace, the former of the two carrying the still unconscious Cornelia on his back. Without a word to the two he turned around, ignoring their remarks behind his back - "Where are you going?" and "Do not disrespect Her Highness so!", respectively – and tearing off down another hallway. Doors of elaborate design lined both sides, but one that waited for him stood out in particular. As he walked he whipped out his cell phone, finding Rolo's name in his contacts and quickly asking, "Are you ready?" as soon as he heard Rolo answer the phone. The entire exchange took less than ten seconds, from taking out the phone to shutting it and returning it to his pocket. And as soon as he did, he brought his feet to a halt in front of a door distanced from all the rest, but otherwise no different in design.
The door flew open before his hand reached the knob, and C.C. stepped aside to let him in with as much indifference as she typically displayed. "You're tired, right?" she asked by way of explanation... An act, to deceive him into thinking she cared and was simply reluctant to show it. The witch wouldn't be getting to him with her false, hidden niceties though, to be sure.
"I'm fine," Lelouch replied gruffly, pushing past her and toward the bed, removing and tossing aside Zero's mask as he went. "We got Cornelia."
"And Charles?"
"He got away." Lelouch crawled to the head of his bed, turning around and seating himself, crossing one leg over the other and reclining against the broad headboard of his large bed. "By the way, C.C.," he said, digging into his pocket while keeping his eyes closed. C.C., who had not yet seen his eyes, was surely raising an eyebrow and tapping her foot impatiently, though she cared too much of her plan to openly rebuke him for his dramatic act. "Here," he sighed, opening his eyes and tossing his contacts at her."
"Ah?" C.C. gasped softly as they bounced off of her chest and tumbled silently to the ground. She raised her eyes from the floor to meet Lelouch's, and he took great pleasure in watching her indifference falter under the revelation that there was no longer Geass flaring in the depths of his eyes. "You..."
"You always wanted to put an end to our curse, C.C.," Lelouch laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. "And with this, the curse will be broken. Geass will fade into nonexistance, and we will be it's sole survivors. We will bear the curse alone, in the stead of all others. It is fitting of us, who have wronged and cheated so many, isn't it?"
Lelouch smirked when C.C. remained silent, averting her eyes whenever his eyes sought them. "By the way, was mother your ally?" C.C.'s eyes shot up to meet his the moment he said that, a mixture of worry and fear – the latter Lelouch could hardly believe he was seeing in the blank-faced witch – running through them. "She knew about the assassination before it happened, right? And yet, she made no attempt to save Nunnally and I. Was she, like you, a self-satisfying traitor? Or did you corrupt her too, trying to use her to fulfill your selfish desires?
"I thought you were an ally, truly," Lelouch continued without pause. "When this was over, you would still be the witch by my side, and I would be the warlock keeping you from your loneliness. You would have escaped your curse. But that didn't satisfy you, did it? For you who, like Charles, cared for nothing but your plan, I was nothing but an accessory, wasn't I?"
"You were, at first," C.C. admitted with great reluctance. "But in this timeless world, you were all I could count on. Before I had been able to stop it, I needed you as much as you needed me. You were not so much an accessory as a comrade."
"Lies create a vicious web, don't they?" Lelouch snarked haughtily, immensely enjoying watching her grow even more uncomfortable under the weight of his words. "They are the perfect escape from reality, weaving falsehoods and truths into an unrecognizable mess of existences. There is no better way to escape that which you do not want to face. But should your lies be revealed, they are the most deadly weapon one could possibly wield against you.
"No matter, though," Lelouch sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "V.V. has offered me his Code and entrusted me with his burdens, and with that responsibility we no longer have a contract. The bind between us that kept you by my side is gone, so I am sure you will want to find somebody else to carry out your self-fulfilling aims."
"No," C.C. protested, her voice quiet and almost fearful. Were Lelouch in a more reasonable state of mind he would have pointed out that he'd longed to break through the outer shell of C.C.'s stubborn nature and reach out to the woman beneath and that he now had such a chance, but the only thing on his mind was the desire to satisfy the hurt and the betrayal nagging at him from within. "I..."
"Sorry," Lelouch cut her off, smiling crookedly, "I wasn't giving you an option."
"What?"
The door swung open and Rolo filed in with two soldiers of the Geass Corps – recognizable by the Geass symbol covering the chest of their Black Knights uniforms and the dark visers that covered their eyes from view. All three held a rifle in hand and has a sword sheathed at their right hip, a personal touch granted by Lelouch himself in order to give them the truly superior impression they deserved. Rolo's eyes went from Lelouch and then to C.C., taking in each in turn. "Is it time?"
"Take her away," Lelouch sighed dismissively, opening one eye to glance at Rolo. "Don't hurt her, though. I do have some honor."
"I wasn't considering such a thing," Rolo replied defensively, sounding slightly offended. But then he turned to Lelouch and flashed him a smirk so nefarious that the thought crossed Lelouch's mind that Rolo could truly pass for his brother. "Traitor or not, Lady C.C. was once one of us, right?"
o---o
Friendship... loyalty... compassion. I understood finally why my father discarded such worldly things. They were too fickle, full of negative emotion and ill intent, such to the point that you could not tell where the line between genuinity and falsehoods stood, could not tell if the ones you trusted most could truly be trusted at all. C.C. had crossed this line, taking with her my trust in that line altogether. Friendship from now on would be a weakness, something I could not afford to let dictate my actions. Suzaku, Karen, Jeremiah... they were my comrades, my allies and my soldiers. Calling them friends would be inviting betrayal, and betrayal was one thing I would not stand for.
The loss of the Geass and Cornelia's surrender to the United States cemented a change in my life. Finally the time had come for the next phase to begin, where the fight would finally be taken to Britannia. For far too long had the world outside of it's borders seen bloodshed, soldiers trampling over or stealing crops, and cities burned to the ground out of petty ambition. Finally Britannia would see it's atrocities returned upon itself as the Anti-Britannian Front finally committed itself to it's unified goal of crushing Britannia under it's foot. With the power of Africa's states and the Empire of China, as well as Japan's army in the Order of the Black Knights, the unified Anti-Britannian Front had finally gathered the strength necessary to bring the Emperor of Britannia to kneel, to see the entirety of it's fearsome military forces crushed by superior men. The days of Britannia ruling over the world's every move had ended.
Yes... Finally, after eight long years of suffering and hiding, Britannia would answer for what it did to it's Prince Lelouch and Princess Nunnally. The children of it's Emperor, tossed aside for reasons I finally understood, would finally have their opportunity to get revenge. ... Nunnally, though, would never think of revenge. No, this was for me – for those who had similarly been wronged by Britannia. Nunnally would be given a better world in the end, but she would not wish for it to be done in such a way. Hopefully Nunnally will truly be able to forgive me someday, to be able to look at me and see somebody other than the demon she and so many others see in me. In Nunnally's future... I wonder if I have a place in it. When all is said and done, where will I stand in the world? Will I guide it to it's future? Will I watch from a distance as somebody else does? Or will I, like C.C. before me, come to scorn life and all things associated with it because I am unable to escape it?
o---o
"... A contract?"
Cornelia looked up from her place in bed, pillows strewn all around her and behind her while she rested, as Lelouch strode across the room in measured paces, turning off the T.V. as he passed it. The marble flooring of her room resounded loudly against the solid falls of his feet, one after the other in a perfect rhythm that Lelouch let dance through his ears several times before turning his full attention to Cornelia again, watching her watch his Geass-less eyes with a mixture a fascination and wariness. Ever the proud, careful warrior, he thought, even as she lay helplessly in bed with a broken leg and two sprained arms. Cornelia Li Britannia was definitely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, anything but weak.
"Of sorts," Lelouch replied cryptically, settling down on the end of her large bed and running his hand along it's length idly. "You have already made your entrance into the United States official through the other member states, right?"
"Yes, but I did not do so for your sake," Cornelia shot back defensively. "Father has to answer for what he has done, and Schneizel corrupts every bit of land he steps on in his bid to stop you two. Given that, you were the only one I could turn to with my honor intact."
"Of course, of course. 'I am a demon and I will innevitably corrupt this world as I have everything else around me,' right?" Lelouch drawled, looking toward the intricately patterned ceiling – many coiled circles overlapping and merging in an indecipherable mess of swirls. The crimson red of the ceiling gave the design an additionally intricate feel to it, like hellfire swirling and moving about in an elegant dance that only it understood. "Regardless, I will need the support of your Knights to attack the Britannia proper."
"The Britannian navy is far too strong!" Cornelia cried exasperatedly, looking at Lelouch with a look that said, 'Are you mad?" about as bluntly as it could reasonably be said. "How do you intend to break through the navy with your forces and still have enough power to reach the capital?"
"You are experienced in naval combat, right?" Lelouch asked devilishly.
Cornelia nodded absently, wondering exactly what this entailed to the inner workings of Lelouch's mind. "Not as much so as I am at commanding battles on land, but I am not inexperienced. Why?"
"In that case," Lelouch said, an increasingly devious smirk working it's way onto his face, "you will be appointed the Anti-Britannian Front's Admiral. Meanwhile, I will be leading our main forces with the Hogosha in a sneak attack on Pendragon. We will seize the capital while you draw their attention by attacking the naval base at California."
"And what does this have to do with a... contract?" she asked warily.
"You have no reason to be loyal to the United States," Lelouch shrugged, "and I no longer have any intention of trusting people without just reason. And so, a contract is in order. In exchange for your promise of fealty to myself and to the United States, you will be given the authority to reform Britannia as you see fit once it has been made one of our states. You will essentially be father's heir."
"I have never been interested in taking the throne for myself," Cornelia countered casually.
"Britannia has been corrupted, to the point where neither Schneizel nor I could save it. Britannia needs a more moderate ruler, like you or Odysseus, to save it from itself now." Lelouch stood, walking around the room while he ran his fingers along his eyes. "These eyes... these eyes held a power that corrupted me the moment I accepted it. Even without the Geass, these eyes are cursed. I cannot save Britannia now, and all of Britannia will suffer if you do not accept. Will you?"
Cornelia nodded immediately, shooting Lelouch an offended glance for even suggesting otherwise. "As a soldier through and through, I would sooner die than betray Britannia. Unlike Suzaku and Jeremiah, who's loyalties were shaken by their bond with you, I am not so easily displaced."
Lelouch nodded, "And you are all the more a soldier for that conviction."
"Be that as it may," Cornelia continued, "I know better than to die foolishly for a decaying country I am loyal to. If I must betray Britannia for now in order to save it later, I will do so resentfully."
Flashing his half-sister a winning smile and a deceitful wink, Lelouch sat in the tall, well furnished chair that occupied the head of the round table that occupied the open area of the room across from Cornelia's bed. One leg crossed over the other and he folded his hands while resting his elbows on the table, placing his chin in the fold and turning his head to look at Cornelia from the corner of his eye. "I have already taken the liberty of making your Knights Darlton and Guilford Rear Admiral and Vice-Admiral respectively. Both are under your direct command, though I presently have them running drill exercises with your troops as well as the ones I have placed under your command.
"Also, I will have to ask that you take the matter of acquiring a fleet into your own hands," Lelouch continued, breaking his left index finger free of the fold to tap against his cheek. "While it is a bothersome duty, the member states are reluctant to grant me the funds necessary to build a navy capable of contending with Britannia's. That being said, what funds they have granted me are being put to replenishing our supply of KMFs and other supplies. Unfortunately, the new Akatsuki Frames are far more costly than the outdated Burai were, and getting them in large quantities is expensive."
Cornelia frowned as she stood, joining Lelouch by sitting at the identical chair situated at the other end of the table. She plucked a phone off the nearby wall and pressed a button, saying, "Tea," into it before hanging it up again and turning to Lelouch. "I have no problems doing so, but isn't one of your duties making sure the army is properly supplied?"
"It is also my duty to properly know my men and delegate orders accordingly," Lelouch snarked, smirking at Cornelia's scowl. "Though I dislike admitting it, I am far less knowledgable of naval warfare than you. Between the two of us, you are far more suited than I for acquiring armaments for a navy."
"Well," Cornelia sighed, pulling over a pad of paper and a pen from the corner of the table, scribbling some notes probably only she understood. "Britannia's navy focuses on overwhelming strength, as all of it's military does, and as such it's defense lies primarily in the strength of the base's defense itself. Our ships by comparison will need far more defensive strength, with still enough firepower to take out the base should it be necessary." Again she scribbled down notes as she spoke, adding several diagrams – or at least they appeared to be so to Lelouch – to the mix. "Although, if at all possible outfitting the ships with VTOL units would be preferable, thus allowing KMFs to assail the base by land."
Lelouch nodded absently, flinging the thought around in his head while trying to figure out how exactly that would work. Unfortunately, limited – nearly none whatsoever – knowledge of naval warfare and naval weaponry in general made understanding the depth of what Cornelia was saying a rather difficult matter for him. "The base is very heavily defended, even if you successfully get the army on land. The defenses at the port alone are strong, and beyond that are many fortifications that will make a siege difficult."
"That is what the VTOL units are for," Cornelia replied petulantly. She paused while the door opened, gesturing with a wave of her hand for the tea to be placed on the table. Once the small white cups had been placed before herself and Lelouch and the servant had politely bowed and retreated, she sipped elegantly at it while watching Lelouch's face critically. He too sipped from the tea placed in front of him, albeit in a far more reserved and careful manner, as though it were spiked with a lethal poison waiting to kill him. His obvious lack of trust intrigued Cornelia, who immediately made the connection between him and their father's similar lack of trust, though she did not bother to comment on it. Much like she hadn't yet commented upon the lack of any Geass in his eyes, even though his eyes held the distant warmth that meant they were not covered by contacts.
Lelouch understood what she had been thinking about immediately, and gestured to his eyes with one hand while the other lightly grasped the handle of his teacup and brought it to his lips, draining it of a respectful amount of tea before placing it down on the small plate with which it had come. "Uncle Vortigem is dead," he chuckled, running his finger along his eyes and showing the tips to Cornelia, showing that no contacts had been removed. "Though he was my enemy, I took pity on him for living his life as a child."
"What do you mean?" Cornelia asked, scowling. "And how do you know about Uncle Vortigem? He left Britannia long before you or I were born."
Lelouch chuckled again, throwing his head back to rest against the back of the chair. "Clearly you know our dear uncle," he pointed out, "and he, like our dear father, was cursed by their lust for power."
"The Geass?" Cornelia asked knowingly. "Is that why he left Britannia?"
Lelouch shook his head in reply, gesturing again to his Geass-less eyes, "The origin of Geass – the Code. I will spare the details, but it is how father got Geass. Uncle Vortigem gave me his Code, and that killed him."
"The Code?" Cornelia asked disbelievingly. "Meaning?"
"Immortality."
"... Immortality," Cornelia repeated skeptically, nodding to herself as she sipped at her tea again. "And you can give other people the Geass as well, right?"
"Right," Lelouch agreed, watching with a raised eyebrow as Cornelia elegantly flipped her curled purple hair over shoulder and out of her face, revealing a tiny scar running from her jawline to the outer area of her cheekbone, near her ear. "Did father...?"
"His guards," Cornelia answered stiffly, moving so that her left elbow rested on the table and her head was cradled by it, casually hiding the scar. "Never have I felt so disgraced as then," she added angrily.
Lelouch smiled lightly, all the more willing to let talks of difficult things drop momentarily in favor of the sort of casual conversations they had shared in the past, before the times had grown tougher and the need for such difficult talks had arisen. "He has that affect on people," he said lightly, waving a finger from the side to side in a silent order for Cornelia to move her hand. She did so grudgingly, turning her face to better show him the scar. "Consider that a silent oath," he added, "to yourself. That mark will be a promise to yourself, to avenge the disgrace he has given you, right?"
"Hmm," Cornelia hummed, bringing her teacup again to her lips. She smiled tightly in gratification as the fluid passed through her lips, and she quickly hid it behind an indifferent expression as the teacup left her lips, making the entire gesture hidden from Lelouch. "How has Nunnally been doing?" she asked carefully, watching Lelouch's expression immediately sour.
"She returned to Ashford," Lelouch replied tightly, hanging his head sadly. "She understands my motives for fighting, but..." He sighed, running a hand down his face while he lifted it, letting his fingers linger to scratch his chin. "She was always satisfied living in hiding, just me and her. Things were simple, even if we were prisoners, and we were happy. She doesn't understand that I was never satisfied living like that, that I knew I could get revenge for all the times this world had wronged us. She wanted it to be just her and I, while I wanted to change this world and redeem our mother.
"I now know redeeming our mother is impossible," he continued, laughing softly to himself. "She was like everybody else. They used me until they were satisfied with what I had to offer, and then they betrayed me. They taught me that friendship and trust are sins, that I will only weaken myself if I allow myself to be subject to them. I will truly become a demon because of them, won't I?"
o---o
Tel Aviv's relatively poor populace, deprived already of many liberties granted to citizens of Britannia's Areas, still found the strength to throw rocks and other such objects at passing KMFs as the Schneizel's troops moved into the city. Several people had dashed in the way of Panzer-Hummels or Sutherlands, bravely staring down the Frames and daring them to run them over. Consequently, the occupation of Tel Aviv – a matter which had been settled without so much as a battle – still resulted in a casualty list nearing fifty, a number many times too large for an occupation of it's nature. Schneizel had not been pleased to know this, but he managed a brave face and cooly dismissed the listings as fools who stood in the way – literally – of his ideals. On the inside, though, he loathed that he had to succumb to such wicked means in order to gather the strength necessary to match his father and demonic half-brother. If only he could discover the source of their strength, so that he could match it without needing to be an enemy of all people...
Schneizel looked down at the desolate streets of Tel Aviv from above, much as a God would the people – the irony of that was not lost upon him, either, noting that where he stood was known as the God-given promised land to it's people. The streets were worn, pavement cracked and split at many places, torn as though it had just been a battleground. By all rights it had been, despite no actual battle having been fought there, and the cracks were so worn in that they had obviously been there for some time. It had not been all that long since Britannia had initially occupied the region and made it into the honorless Area 18, stripping even the Jewish of their rights and conforming them to the status of Numbers, depriving them of both social status and religious status, tearing them away from their God like a baby from it's mother. The cracks, worn as they were, had the distinct indents of wheels from KMF landspinners, revealing the past conflict between brave warriors who defended their God and Britannia's hordes, determined to whip even God's soldiers into submission like all others before them. And Schneizel had just honored these people with a repeat performance.
"I will make it up to you..." Schneizel muttered sadly, placing a hand to the window that separated him from the suffered streets below. "I will return to you your names, your God, your land... but I cannot yet."
As though they had heard his promise, a small family of four – a mother, a father and two children of less than ten – left their home, a pitiful thing one story in height and broken down in several places, shingles missing from the rooftop and a large axe-shaped split in their door. They looked from side to side carefully before advancing down the steps that led to their doorstep, careful to constantly scan from side to side every few steps. They made their way down the sidewalk, the children hiding behind the legs of their parents like lost puppies and the parents standing shoulder to shoulder, each occasionally leaning over to whisper something into the ear of the other. Their fear was palpable, and as he watched Schneizel found himself watching the road and the sidewalks, jumping everytime he saw somebody, just like they would.
As they turned the corner, both parents were pinned to the ground as three soldiers surrounded them, pressing guns to their heads and shouting something into their ears. Despite expecting this Schneizel winced, unable to remain detached as he watched the soldiers carry out orders he himself had given, strictly under the pretense of the cold dictator he had made himself out to be. Both parents had begun crying openly as a piece of paper was shoved into their faces, a documentation of the new laws placed on the war torn city by himself that had already been forcefully posted in every home. One rule it detailed included the necessity of home lockdown after midnight – it was nearing dawn already, and the moon was lowering steadily toward the horizon – and the family in question was now suffering for it, leaving Schneizel to watch in rapt fascination and absolute disgust as the mother and father were pulled toward the side of the road and shot point blank in the head, splattering one another with their blood as they fell. The children followed, heartlessly dragged aside and given the same fate, leaving their bodies to fall atop their parents'.
Schneizel quickly pulled shut the blinds with one hand, covering his mouth with the other as he turned away and resisted with all his might the urge to empty his stomach. But he would not allow himself to show weakness, even in his lonesome. No; he had made the decision to walk down this path, welcoming all the hatred the world had to offer until such a time that he acquired the power necessary to redeem himself, showing the world to a future brighter and more certain than one either his father or Lelouch could offer. That time would come before long, hopefully... If not, all would be lost, be it those he cared for – the people – or his sanity. If he lost either, he lost himself – that was the reality of his position, a fact he had embraced the moment he turned down this path.
The room was relatively well furnished, all things considered. The three story Pagoda house was just about the closest thing to luxury the dilapidated city still offered, with the elegance of an upper middle-class Britannian home comparable to the homes in the outer areas of the capital Pendragon. It had historical significance that shattered the hearts of the people the moment he took it as his personal residence. The room was made of marble in it's entirety, kept clean even in the people's darkest hour like a God that required their unconditional service. A small desk occupied the rooms eastern wall, with papers strewn across it detailing reports from their recent battles in both Tel Aviv and Haifa, as well as casualty and supply reports following both engagements. A king sized bed occupied the opposite wall, with a canopy covering it from corner to corner. Quotations from the bible - "Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord and has made the Lord his hope and confidence", "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path", and "I came that you may have and enjoy life and have it in abundance, until it overflows" stuck out among others - were engraved into the walls like prayers, over various depictions of God, Jesus and other religious icons. Never had Schneizel born witness to such a testament of faith as this, one unlike anything Britannia had to offer. In an entirely different and strange way, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Schneizel crossed over to the desk, sitting down in the tall, black leather chair that rested against the wall and behind the desk. He flipped the switch on the lamp at the edge of the desk as he began to flip through paper after paper, eyes scanning them in quick succession. Total casualties, over one thousand... MIA or captured, over three thousand... Not nearly as bad as it could have been, given how devastating the battle at Haifa had been following the arrival of his father. All the same, it was a blow he could ill afford at that point in time, when every last soldier counted in their do-or-die battle for their futures. Their claim to power rested on a successful campaign in Area 18! And they could hardly resort to drawing from the civilian population to replenish their soldiers, unless they were to cross a line that could never be recrossed and utilize forced conscription. No matter what, though, that could never be allowed. The people had suffered enough as it was, and forcing them to fight for somebody they hate more than even the oppressive law Britannia had placed upon them would be much too severe.
"... 'Status of Tel Aviv restoration slash purification: reconstruction of upper class homes and business offices, arrest of over three thousand civilians and execution of one thousand, seven hundred and sixty'," he read to himself, running his index finger along the paper as he read. True to detailed form, the sheet included many attached sheets with information of every civilian captured or executed. It was shocking to find a photo identification for every last civilian captured or executed, but Schneizel willed himself to remain calm while he continued to read over their personal records, family members, occupations... children. Many had left widowed husbands or wives in their wake, some even leaving orphaned children. Schneizel swiftly grabbed a pen and scribbled a note to authorize the construction of an orphanage to help the many now-orphans. He feared he would be consumed by insurmountable guilt if he did not, more so than he was already threatened to be.
"Your Highness?" one of his guard's asked timidly, opening the door slightly and poking his head in. A pair of thick black glasses covered his eyes, and his hair – a dark red, with blackened tips – fell around his face and over his forehead, and were he not wearing glasses they would surely be hiding them from view much as the glasses were. His face was smiling, teeth showing slightly through parted lips, contrasting the nervousness in his voice. "We found somebody trespassing on the Pagoda's grounds and have taken him into custody. What should we do with him?"
"I told you what to do with civilians who didn't follow our rules," Schneizel spat out coldly, quickly covering up any trace of emotion through the hard edge in his voice and the withering glare he directed at the soldier who, in response, shivered very noticeably.
"He doesn't look like a civilian, Your Highness," he replied meekly, quickly ducking away from the door as two other soldiers pushed through carrying a man with a bag over his head by the arms, stopping briefly to bow to Schneizel before dumping the prisoner on the bed. He was wearing a form fitting white lab coat with a small overcoat that covered his biceps and chest, with an equally tight fitting purple undershirt and brown leather gloves. The bag was pulled from his face, revealing a carefully combed mop of silver hair, with long bangs falling over his face. His eyes were closed, but as they slowly opened, Schneizel couldn't help but gape in surprise at the demonic look in them.
"... The voices..." he gasped, his voice sounding more like a laugh or a cackle than a plea for help. "Turn off... the voices..."
That's the end of this chapter. For those who wonder, I have never been to the Pagoda House and I claim no knowledge of it's interior, so if my description is insufficient to anybody who may have been there before, at least you know that I have a genuine lack of knowledge of it's appearance.
Also, take a vote if you don't mind. If you think it would be better, I will modify this chapter and last chapter into one massive chapter. If not, I will leave it as is. Your call.
