As promised (well, planned in my case, but I'm only noting that to avoid the misconception that I don't have this thoroughly planned out), this chapter will be going back to my field of expertise, or at least I like to think of it as such: war. It's quite a big bang as well, I think. Plenty of action – although not as much as one would like – and Lelouch tormenting abound. Okay, the latter may be a sick fetish of sorts for me, but I'm sure (read: hoping) that I do not stand alone in my love for an occasional mind fuck and/or round of torment for Lelouch. His character makes it so deliciously fun to screw with him.

... I am a sick, sick man.


"Alright. Good work, Jeremiah."

Lelouch hung up his cell phone and returned it to his pocket, casting a dark look over his shoulder at the Thought Elevator, imposing as it always was. Suzaku was at his side, watching him warily, asking with his eyes what Jeremiah had said. Lelouch smiled cruelly, looking down toward the ground and kicking at a stone with his left foot. "The California base has fallen."

"Already?" The way Suzaku asked that made surprise an expected thing, though he didn't seem surprised at all. Rather, he remained completely indifferent, as though such surprising feats were now to be expected of Lelouch – as Zero, they more or less were.

"Yeah," Lelouch replied casually, leaning back against the sigil-signed wall. "There were less casualties than I expected. Only ten Han-Shu, a single Akatsuki, and... the Shen-Hu."

Suzaku raised an eyebrow, but if he was actually bothered by the revelation – and by extension bothered by Lelouch's indifference to it – he didn't show it. "Xingke? How did he die?"

Lelouch sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose while he pushed away from the wall, pacing and nodding his head to himself. "The Knight of One," he said, shamed by his inability to predict that Britannia would go to such lengths to protect the base. "But he was defeated as well. We may have lost Xingke, but we struck a massive blow to Britannia."

That was, among other things, true. Yes, he did feel sadness over the loss of such a valuable ally, a kindred spirit, even if their morals were slightly different. But his mind needed to be on their future, the future he would bring, and not on what he had lost to attain that future. There would be time for that later, when mourning could be done openly. But right now, Xingke was allowed to be nothing more than a chess piece that had been used as bait to take one of his enemies, a Pawn placed in the path of a Knight to lure it into the open. It was a basic strategy that hurt you as much as it hurt they, and it hadn't been the intended plan, but it worked nonetheless.

And the Knight they had taken was a valuable one. The Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, was to his father as Suzaku was to himself. An invaluable right hand, the one you relied upon when you knew no other was either skilled enough or trustworthy enough to perform a task. Among all of your many men, your plethora of allies, he was the one you knew could do what was inadvisable to ask of any other. There was bound to be sadness in the loss of their Blue Knight, but that would come later. But if worse came to absolute worst, Todo was more than capable of filling Xingke's space as a Knight. And while there really was no replacing Xingke's worth as a tactician – Duke Henry, for all Lelouch had heard from the man, was in no place to be considered – Lelouch had proven himself time and time again to be more than capable of filling the role of their strategist-commander by his lonesome.

Lelouch was willing to concede to the fact that filling that role was rather difficult when he put his own problems before that of his country, but he swore that this would be the last time. The threat of the Geass had passed, leaving only the physical aspect of this quest left for him. Bringing the former Prime Minister, Schneizel El Britannia to kneel and forcing the abdication of the 98th Emperor were now his only priorities, and fulfilling his oaths to do so now stood at the forefront of his mind.

"Will we be continuing the attack against Britannia?" Suzaku asked. It would have been a stupid question in most circumstances, but with an enemy on both sides one could never be too sure what the next move was to be. And with enemies as smart as the ones they had, staying on their toes and watching both like a hawk was not so much an advisable necessity as it was a rule of survival.

Lelouch shook his head, "No," and continued pacing. The tension in the air was thick, malevolence all but pouring from Lelouch's body. He knew C.C. would be coming through the Thought Elevator soon, and he counted on still being there to capture her again. "If Schneizel is left alone," he continued, voice deathly even while it exuded the evil his mind was clouded with, "we will regret it. Taking El Alamein and Gibraltar are necessary to make sure he does not pose a problem."

Suzaku nodded, far beyond the point of being surprised by the way Lelouch's mind worked. It was like trying to understand quantum physics – although such a venture was probably possible for Lelouch, who used intelligence as a lifeblood that he was reluctant to apply academically. Some would go so far as to say that it was possible to go mad trying to understand Lelouch's mind, and Lelouch liked it that way. The harder it was to think like him, the harder it was for people, friend and foe alike, to see his moves before they were made.

"What about Britannia?" he asked, however, because it wouldn't have made sense for him to have not asked. It simply wasn't Suzaku to leave anything unanswered.

"I told you before," Lelouch replied, smiling crookedly, "that you would be leading our forces into the Middle East. Jeremiah will fortify and defend our base at California, and I will work on pacifying Japan."

Again Suzaku nodded, though this time any thought was halted as the sigil on the Thought Elevator began to shine brightly, C.C. reappearing in front of it. She raised an eyebrow at both of them but said nothing, which only infuriated Lelouch all the more.

"What will you do now?" he growled, narrowing his eyes in a manner most unlike him, or at least he thought so. "You cannot die."

Again C.C. said nothing, which was all Lelouch needed to snap. He glared at her heatedly, raising his left hand to face her, the sigil on his palm shining until it matched the anger reflected in his narrowed eyes. The power that surged from him was palpable, malevolent, and suddenly C.C. was clutching her head and screaming collapsing onto her hands and knees. Suzaku stared at him, awestruck, but did not comment on what he was doing.

"Living a life of torment, of loneliness, of solitude... that is what brought us together, wasn't it?" Lelouch cried. He lowered his hand, and despite that the screaming continued, C.C.'s mind flashing with the many painful memories of both her life and his that he had projected to her. "And yet, you decided to betray the only companionship either of us had. It is only right that I repay the favor."

On some heavily subdued level, Lelouch actually felt some remorse for putting C.C. through such torture, but it was much too subtle for him to care. He had long believed in the right to strike back at those who had wronged him; his father, now his mother and C.C. as well. That was what this was, after all... striking back at a woman who had played with the nearly nonexistent yet still very fragile strings of his emotions, twisting them around her beautiful little finger and tugging at them until he finally disentangled them. She deserved every bit of the torment he was putting her through.

Lelouch turned to look at Suzaku who, though he tried his hardest, was unable to hide his emotions from Lelouch. This new change frightened him, and he hated it – he hated what had become of his best friend. But that was alright. He no longer trusted in companionship, and while he would continue to find a valuable ally in Suzaku, looking to him for any real support was something he could no longer afford. Nunnally was the only person he could still trust, and she despised his actions enough to be unwilling to listen anyway.

"Take her," Lelouch commanded, nodding toward C.C.'s prone form.

"But..." Suzaku murmured, looking down at C.C. before meeting Lelouch's gaze again. The hard stare Lelouch was giving him, however, left nothing to be questioned. "... Yes, Your Highness."

o---o

"Panzer-Hummel Squad Four dropped!"

All according to plan. Next...

"They have entered battle with enemy KMFs in sectors C-4 and B-5! Sutherlands, Gloucesters... and Gekkas!"

Of course. Middle of the Thar Desert or not, Lelouch would not leave an important location like Jaisalmer unprotected. But that was to be expected; it was how strong the defenses were that had been left unknown. Lelouch's security against spy networks was top notch, like everything else about his rule. But Kanon could work with that. More importantly, he had to work with it; their precarious positions at Tel Aviv and Haifa would be threatened by both Britannia and the United States if he failed. Also, Jaisalmer would serve to be an advantageous location both in protecting their position in the Middle East and in advancing into India.

Ah, the beauty there was in a righteous war. Not a war of vengeance, like the one Lelouch fought. There was no honor in that.

"Move Squads Three and Four of the Autonomous KMF Corps into position," Kanon ordered, once again employing his colored cones as visual representations of the armies' movements. This time, the stakes were far higher than they had been before, and such a thing almost seemed childish. But as the close confidant of His Highness, Kanon could handle being seen as childish. After all, people close to Schneizel had to be strange by definition – he and Lloyd had no trouble being associated with the term 'strange'.

True to his orders, the outskirts of the city were soon surrounded by Sutherlands and Gloucesters numbering well over one hundred, all armed with the lances typically used solely by the Gloucester. The sandy, simmering roads of Jaisalmar were similarly swarming with Panzer-Hummel, though they were not faring well against the vastly outnumbered but superior Sutherlands, Gloucesters and Gekkas they were fighting. And while they lacked the advances into pursuing the Lancelot's success like Britannia did, Kanon was confident that they had more than enough to work with.

It was no surprise, however, that theory and application were two very different things. While his visual display of the battle showed two cones moving in on the city, with the intent to bring a gloriously cone-filled victory, the battle itself was another matter. Outnumbered as they were, Lelouch's soldiers were not lacking for talent, holding their own all the same. Perhaps they were well trained soldiers, or maybe they were veterans from his conquests in China; whichever the case, the fact remained that they were holding up far better than he anticipated. In fact, he dared to note, they were driving his assault back.

With a barely held up veil of indifference – Kanon didn't typically do indifference; hiding emotions was a tasteless way to live, he thought – Kanon continued to watch from the safety of his G-1 Base, every so often transmitting images through to the Avalon, where Schneizel would be waiting to receive them while he worked on driving remnant Britannian forces from the region surrounding Haifa, a task that was far easier than one might assume. There was no expected good news to give to Schneizel, no images of United States forces being decimated with a ruthless hand. Rather, that aptly described the situation in reverse, and despite all odds the United States forces were proving very quickly just why they had been capable of pushing through any and all obstacles that had dared stand before their miraculous leader and his tactics.

"Forces in Sector A-5 are struggling!" another cry filled the tense air. Nobody replied to it, which wasn't unusual – replying to reports such as that would have been unusual, however. Kanon gritted his teeth, thinking as deeply as he could. Their foe wasn't even a noteworthy commander! He was some General brought in from India's army following it's agreement to join the United States, a man who held his own against China's forces but nothing more. By all rights, they should have been cowering into a corner of the city while his forces trounced them at every turn! That was how the battle was predicted to have gone, at any rate.

"Deploy reinforcement Panzer-Hummels!" Kanon commanded, moving a blue cone into the northern area of the city – the black box representing the city. He would not allow them to be so easily defeated, not when the battle had theoretically been their's before it began! Zero or not, Lelouch's invincibility would have to be shattered sometime. No man could win forever, and Lelouch was just a man. A man with intelligence that made just about any tactician to have lived in the past three centuries envious, perhaps, but a man all the same. There was nothing invincible about an arrogant man with a quick wit.

That belief quickly became the only thing keeping him on the sane side of insane – simply saying it kept him from going insane didn't have enough flare for his liking – as the battle went through highs and lows nobody had anticipated. Initially the reinforcements served to do little, but over time they, along with the main body of their forces, had begun turning the tide. At first it was little things, like taking proper cover and adequately protecting themselves while the two sides exchanged blows, but eventually the inferior number of the United States forces began to take it's toll on their performance.

"... Um, Sir..."

Of course, this was Lelouch. And that, by a definition much like 'strange' defined Kanon, meant that things had to be unnecessarily difficult. It just wouldn't be right any other way. This was a fact that was present in any and all battles involving Lelouch, either directly or indirectly. And this time, his refusal to admit defeat came in the form of a frantic report, stuttering something along the lines of, "The G-g-guren! The Guren!" repeated over and over... followed by an entire group of Panzer-Hummel being lost in less than ten seconds as the red Frame dove at their own forces, claw arm loosing a blast of it's Fukushahado energy while it dodged all attempts to strike it with an ease that wasn't entirely human.

Now, unnecessary difficulty didn't exactly explain this development, Kanon realized. It had been just two days since they received word that Britannia's legendary defenses at the California base had been struck down by the Anti-Britannian Front, and the Guren had been responsible for much of the damage. For the Guren to already have been dispatched to this region meant that Lelouch had planned beforehand, which meant...

He'd known of the attack all along. Either he had a spy, which wasn't likely, or he had a very good sense of intuition. Kanon gritted his teeth as actual anger began to build inside of him. How dare Lelouch toy with him, toy with His Highness, like this! But if playing a game of outsmarting one another was what Lelouch wanted to play, even unknowingly, Kanon was willing to play. Perhaps he could not outsmart Lelouch himself, but he was confident he could outsmart Lelouch's attempt to outsmart them.

"This is no longer a one-sided battle!" he called out to any who happened to be listening, adjusting his military uniform – a blue suit with golden lines along the shoulders and arms, golden buttons lining the chest, and very tight white pants – to more comfortably fit him. "Squads Two and Five of the Autonomous KMF Corps will keep the Guren at bay! The rest, work on wiping out the enemy forces!"

Yes... this was a game. This was a battle for the future of His Highness' dreams, of course, but it was also a game. Lelouch would taste defeat, and Kanon would be the one to give it to him. No matter how far he had to go, no matter how many men had to be expended for the job to be completed, Lelouch would taste dirt. Already, Kanon could feel the satisfaction of seeing Lelouch deprived to such a state. Ah yes, such a victory would be most rewarding.

o---o

There was something about the way His Majesty carried himself that morning, the way his powdered wig-like hair billowed while his cape, the source of much of his imposing size, remained close against his body as he approached the throne. His face was blank and set with the confidence one could come to expect of His Majesty, but there was an underlying sadness that surprised the present nobility no matter how much they expected it.

After all, but two days ago they had lost not only an important base at California, but also the esteemed Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein. When His Majesty had taken the throne, Bismarck had been there to swear his undying loyalty, and when the Knights of the Round had been formed a decade later, Bismarck was chosen immediately to serve as it's first ranking knight. It was no stretch to say that His Majesty held the Knight of One in higher regard than he did his own children, and Bismarck's place in his heart had been surpassed only by the Lord Vortigem Di Britannia, whom had unfortunately disappeared not long after His Majesty had pacified Britannia.

It could also be said that His Majesty's resolve was born from the same thing that the Black Prince's was, although the Black Prince had not yet risen to power when the desire to see his vision realized had driven him to insanity. Though it was under vastly different circumstances, both were driven greatly by their losses and the desire to protect what they had, though neither would ever admit to such a thing. No, both would say they had visions and that was to be the sole reason, but anybody with a critical eye could see that they were torn by their losses and clung desperately to what they had left.

Neither were nearly as simple as that suggested, however. While few amongst the nobility could claim they knew the Black Prince in the slightest – a memory of a ten year old boy with a loving mother and a sister whom his entire world revolved around hardly counted in that regard – they did know His Majesty. He was as hard to predict as they came, with a ruthless hand for those beyond the borders of his great empire and a gentle hand that promised salvation to any who abided by his laws. So long as there was conflict for the sake of self-advancement, His Majesty could find no possible wrong in the world.

Conversely, the Black Prince seemed to be molding the United States into Britannia's anti-thesis. Where Britannia facilitated conflict, the United States routinely sent out scouting parties to ensure the people were at peace. Where Britannia constantly sought to expand it's borders, the United States formed a strong defense and struck back. Every time there was word of a rebellion, it would be targetting either Britannia or the newly formed Federation of Europe; never had the United States faced rebellion except for the Minor Kyoto Rebellion, and even then the Black Prince had made a slight to his honor a motivating factor in expanding his influence.

This all came down to one thing: strange. His Majesty and the Black Prince, of the same blood and yet as different as Yin and Yang, were to eternally be enemies. There could be no peace with both on the same Earth. And really, this should have delighted His Majesty. A showdown in which his own worth was put to the test, where he could show to the world that not even the Man of Miracles, Zero, could contest him. And yet he sat on the throne, shoulders slouched and his vision the epitome of broken. Really, not even Lord Bismarck's death should have been enough to destroy his mood.

"Your Majesty..." Amongst the nobility, there was an unspoken rule that all followed without question, for fear of their lives: never, ever speak to His Majesty until he has spoken, lest you suffer his wrath. But the recently appointed Viscount York County, Lord Sheadon Valmont, had not adequite time with which to be taught these obvious yet unspoken rules. And thus, a collective gasp followed his unofficial faux pas, as though he had just drawn a sword in the presence of His Majesty. To many, what he'd just done was equally as mortifying.

The same nobles who were counting the seconds until the young Viscount York County met his end gaped in shock when His Majesty nodded in his direction, saying as he waved his hand in a hurrying manner, "Speak."

"Your Majesty," Sheadon said gratefully, moving to stand in the middle of the many rows of nobles, bowing low. "The civilian uprising in York County has grown stronger as of late. With our defeat at the California base," he paused briefly, gauging the reaction His Majesty displayed, though there was no visible change in his demeanor, "the rebels have grown all the more bold, making open displays in the streets and razing our governmental offices. Yesterday alone we captured over three hundred operatives."

"Hmm," His Majesty hummed, leaning back in his seat and properly adjusting his flowing cape so that it wasn't beneath him as he sat. "Go on."

"The PMC in the York County area have found moderate success in targeting rebel hideouts throughout Lackey and Yorktown, but as a whole we have run into difficulties." He sighed, pacing back and forth between the Duke of Exeter and Her Highness, Guinevere U Britannia. "If no proper effort to expel the rebels is made, I fear the entire stability of our hold on the area may be uprooted."

Again His Majesty surprised those assembled as he nodded slowly, simply stating, "I see," rather than making any condescending retort about how Lord Sheadon Valmont was weak and that he was incapable of performing such a simple task as securing the small land he'd been assigned to watch over. In the past, several had been removed from their positions in the nobility for such a thing, replaced with either relatives or somebody else altogether. With His Majesty Charles Di Britannia, being of the nobility did nothing to secure your position in life. In fact, being so close to the Emperor made it all the more fragile.

"May I suggest, father, that we deploy forces to the region to uproot the rebellion ourselves?" The speaker was Odysseus U Britannia, the eldest son of His Majesty and, if only by official standing, the Crown Prince of Britannia. His large body was a telltale sign of whom had fathered him, though beyond that and his surprisingly quick wit there was nothing that properly associated himself with His Majesty. His broad shoulders belied his status as a surprisingly serene and calm man, with short brown hair and the beginnings of a beard of the same color. His blue eyes were soft, with no underlying flame that suggested he was of the violent sort, like so many of His Majesty's children were. The Black Prince and the former Prime Minister were fine examples of what Odysseus U Britannia was not.

His Majesty sat up fully, tall in his chair and every bit as imposing as he ought to be at all times. "And why would we do that?"

Odysseus flinched visibly, though he managed to keep his face straight – yet another of the rare traits he had inherited from his father, and one of the many reasons he was admired amongst the nobility despite not having the military prowess that many of his siblings had. "An empire cannot thrive when danger threatens it from within, father. Moreover, Schneizel has crossed through to the Thar Desert, where his forces now hound Lelouch's at every turn. I suggest we take this opportunity to secure our position, so that we may meet both with the whole of our strength when the time comes."

It wasn't uncommon for long silences to follow any suggestion, regardless of how minor. His Majesty was not one to accept suggestions without giving them due thought, and when he did accept a suggestion it was because he himself saw the merit in such a course. But for such a tense silence to follow, where it was clear that His Majesty wasn't even really thinking about the suggestion at hand, it was more than a little surprising. Odysseus didn't seem concerned by it – any trace of a timid man that would have been visible months ago had disappeared, likely on account of some revelation concerning the fact that two of his half-siblings were involved in a feud that could easily determine the fate of the world in it's entirety for a long time to come – and waiting calmly, arms folded behind his back and shoulders squared, looking like the vision of composure that everybody saw in his father.

"Bollocks!" Sheadon cried, striding forward with a purposeful step, the ornamental plume on his headdress swaying to and fro behind him. "With all due respect Your Highness, Your Majesty, my forces are more than capable of dealing with this minor insurgence!" He turned to Odysseus, standing in place along the isle of the first row, with several of his siblings lined to his right, and bowed. "Your Highness, we should be worrying about retaking our naval base at California and reassuring our position in the Middle East, not expending supplies and troops dealing with trifling issues like rebellions!"

Odysseus blinked, appearing to consider what had been said for the briefest of moments. His Majesty remained impassive, watching the exchange like an overseer would, looking down upon them with a condescending glint in his eyes, as was his wont. "Viscount, I do not think reclaiming our territories is of the utmost importance right now. No, with Lelouch and Schneizel at eachother's throats, we ought to focus our efforts on securing our position. Putting even more of the world into conflict would not benefit us any longer; the world has moved on from the days where our movements dictated those of the rest of the world."

His Majesty stood suddenly, his cape billowing out behind him with a flourish. He stood to the side of the throne and, with a beckoning hand, gestured for Odysseus to approach. He did so cautiously, moving until he stood face to face with his father. At full height, His Majesty stood only three inches taller than Odysseus, but those three inches alone made all the difference in his imposing status. "Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the throne with his hand. Another collective gasp resounded through the high ceilinged building as soon as the word had left his mouth, though he payed those present no mind. "I will leave for a while," he continued, turning to leave while he grasped at his cape, keeping it from flowing out behind him. "Rule in my place."

But Odysseus did not sit. No, he didn't rule in His Majesty's place. That damned, wretched stunned silence did. Nobody so much as blinked as His Majesty strode out through one of the large doors only he was allowed to use, gesturing with a roll of his shoulders for the soldiers standing in place to open them as he approached. Odysseus seemed stunned most of all, turning to run after his father at the latest moment, but the doors closed behind him as if he hadn't heard his son at all. With no other choice, Odysseus hung his head and turned, returning to the throne and taking his seat.

This wasn't the first time this had happened, of course. Many times had His Majesty disappeared with nothing more than a word, leaving somebody or another on the throne in his place. Usually it had been Schneizel, which had long led to the belief that His Highness' bid for the throne would lead to him attempting, at worse, a coup d'etat. As Odysseus took his place on the throne, there could only be one coherent thought in the minds of those left behind.

How long would His Majesty be gone this time? And, when he returned, what would be left of the throne to which he belonged?

o---o

Karen gritted her teeth, moving to the side as again a slash harken threatened to slam into her side. They... were... everywhere! For every Frame she destroyed, two – sometimes three – moved to take it's place. She flung out her slash harken, catching one of the many Sutherland surrounding her by the head and destroying it. Her head swam as she smoothly brought the Guren into a backflip, dodging two slash harkens that then moved past her on either side, striking through eachother's Frame and destroying eachother.

"Get out of my way!" she cried, firing a wave a Fukushahado radiation from her claw arm, spinning in a circle so as to hit everything in the wave's path. There were comrades to save, and a city to protect! And worst of all, she knew it was still going to get worse. She wanted to believe that this was something Lelouch had not accounted for, that the sheer strength of the enemy assault had not been properly predicted. But the fact of the matter was that it was far too unlike Lelouch to do something like that. Arrogant to a fault he may be, but Lelouch did not make common errors like that – it would be a sin to him, she was sure. But that meant he was risking all these lives on some gambit he had come up with, or worse, had simply anticipated that regardless of how many lives were lost that she would be able to pull through.

Like hell she would! Already she had been forced to replace her battery twice, and it was nearing the time where she would need to retreat for a third. She didn't need to exercise her authority to get these benefits – the commanding officers were willing to give her whatever she wanted because, no matter how one looked at it, she was the only reason they were still alive. But during those windows where she wasn't there, demolishing every KMF that stood in her way, the situation got that much worse. Before long, she feared it would turn into a brave one-man showdown of the Guren against their entire army. That would not be pleasant for either side.

Karen ignored despairing thoughts such as those while she swept forward, smoothly dodging a swing from the Sutherland's lance and kicked away the rifle that rested at it's side, bringing her claw arm up to clamp onto the side of his head. As she always did, she glanced away while she pressed the button that sent radiation energy surging through her arm, boiling the Sutherland until it's metal began to form an odd shape, almost bubbling, and then exploded. On some level, she envisioned the same fate befalling the pilot within. And no matter how accustomed she was to killing – when it was people she felt deserved it, she dared say she didn't mind killing – she could never come to accept the greusome fate the Guren was capable of bringing down upon it's foes.

She took to the air, looking around for any sign of combat in the surrounding area. The bulk of their remaining forces were locked down near the governmental offices, taking cover while trying to halt the advance of wave after wave of Panzer-Hummel. Several of their men were near the edge of the city, using a building as their only defense from being surrounded by several Gloucester and no less than twenty Sutherland. Her decision made, Karen landed herself atop one of the roofs of the many buildings throughout the city, leaping from roof to roof until she loomed over her allies like a superhero hiding in the shadows, out of sight but watching over them all the while.

One of her screens was warning her that her battery was at it's limit. Ten minutes, and the Guren would be out of power. That was enough time to save her allies, but was it enough to save herself? That didn't matter at the moment. Her resolve set, she leaped down just in time to throw up her claw arm, using her Fukushahado not as a weapon but as a shield, halting the bullets that otherwise would have just taken out her allies.

The Sutherland before her halted when they saw her, but she payed them no mind. In the blink of an eye the shield-like use of the Fukushahado had shifted into a loosed wave of energy, destroying them plus the many that were likely waiting behind them. Her landspinners flung out behind her feet as she turned, lunging forward as she spotted a Gloucester closing in on her allies, removing it's lance from it's hands before launching a slash harken through it's chest, destroying it instantly. Her head spun from all of the movement, a sort of nausea that could only be associated with prolonged use of the Guren overtaking her, much like riding a roller-coaster for the first time. She managed to resist the bodily urges that normally would have overtaken somebody in such a position, finding the strength to use her claw arm as a weapon, using it's sharp claws to cleave through another Sutherland as it neared.

"Get out of here!" Karen cried, slamming the slash harken in her right arm through another Sutherland and clearing the way for her allies. The road ahead, or at least her radar said, would lead them straight to the governmental offices, where they could join up with their allies and lend a hand on that front. As they passed by, giving her words of gratitude in passing, Karen turned to bar the road as KMFs filed in to give chase. This many she could handle no problem, but using the Fukushahado wave had severely damaged the remaining energy in her battery. Four minutes, no access to the Fukushahado – without risking running out of power prematurely, at any rate... She could still do this. Or at least, she hoped so.

Four minutes. Karen lunged forward, dodging around a lance thrust and destroying the offending Gloucester with a slash harken. Rather than letting it return to her she propelled forward to meet the end of her slash harken, turning and clawing into a Sutherland with her claw arm. Her other slash harken launched out at another Sutherland while she held her ground, letting the superior shielding of the Guren take the bullets fired her way.

Three minutes. She could see more KMFs nearing her, but the bottlenecked road allowed her to take the newcomers in stride, still weaving her way through their ranks while using her slash harkens and claw arm as her weapons of choice. The shielding of the Guren was wearing thin but she payed it no mind; it could hold out against this level of firepower for a while yet, and she was not about to retreat and let her allies be attacked from two sides.

Two minutes. Karen had begun to understand how Xingke felt, making a brave stand that would make him go down in history as a valiant warrior to the end. Her movements were slowed slightly on account of the lack of power remaining, but she still managed to drill into another Sutherland with her slash harken before she backpedaled, throwing both of her arms up as a makeshift shield against the rain of bullets coming her way. She knew her end here wasn't a predetermined certainty, but the odds of her going down were still...

"Karen!" She heard her name called desperately, and then the Lancelot landed in front of her, already drawing it's MVS and charging at the foes in front of it. And then she was being picked up, the black and yellow arms of the Gawain visible on either side of her as she was lifted off the ground. Despite her protests - "Put me down, Lelouch!" and, "I could have taken care of it!" - she knew they saw through her charade. And perhaps, she realized as the Guren's energy finally ran short, this was what Lelouch had been waiting for. He knew his allies could last because he would be coming to put his neck on the line for them. At least, she wanted to believe that – and in her exhaustion induced stupor, she faded from consciousness believing just that.

o---o

"Where are you taking her?" Suzaku asked casually, slicing through another Sutherland with ease. There had been many of them, more than Karen reasonably should have been fighting on her own, but Suzaku knew her stubborn nature well enough to not hold it against her. She was fiercely loyal to her allies as well, and Suzaku was not so blind as not to see what would have happened to their main force had she not stood guard here. Her bravery and sheer will ought to have been commended, but there simply wasn't time.

"Back to the offices," Lelouch replied gruffly; he above all knew that he shouldn't have been savagely slaughtering the enemy ranks, but that didn't stop him from openly admitting to Suzaku that he had wanted to do just that. "Don't worry, she won't be coming back out to fight."

Suzaku nodded, not even pretending to be surprised that Lelouch had anticipated his distrust. Surely he knew the effect his recent actions had on his friend, and Suzaku figured that Lelouch simply had no interest in addressing that distrust. Instead, he focused himself on cleaving his way through the many KMFs before him, one explosion after another until his immediate vision was more often than not blinded by the high rising fires of a detonating Frame. So long as Lelouch kept his morals intact, Suzaku could work his way beyond the occasionally inhumane things his friend did. Some dark side of Lelouch was just like that, after all; it was part of the Lelouch Lamperouge/Lelouch Vi Britannia/Zero package.

The problem in the present scenario came not from the fact that Suzaku had been left alone to deal with a quickly replenishing force that was probably no smaller in size than what Karen had been facing, but rather from the fact that a force that big didn't have any forseeable end to it. Bringing down his Hadron blaster, Suzaku swiftly took aim before letting the massive stream of energy tear it's way through the enemy ranks like butter.

"There are too many, Lelouch!" Suzaku cried, growing steadily aware of the fact that his radar was warning him of more signals approaching his position, and in far greater numbers than he would have liked. Some part of him wanted to wonder whether or not these many casualties were something Schneizel could afford, but he didn't dwell on it for long – no matter how much there were, he would not simply allow them to turn Jaisalmer into another one of their desolated, poverty-stricken territories. The people were counting on him to protect them, even at the cost of turning the streets outside their homes into a battleground.

Lelouch's voice on their private channel was low, almost growling, as he said, "You have to live, Suzaku." Chills ran down Suzaku's spine while he nodded, charging once again into the fray, both swords swinging. "That is an order, Suzaku. Live!"

Were they speaking face to face and if Lelouch still had the Geass, Suzaku was certain he'd now be a slave to his imprinted desire to live. Even without such a Geass though, the need to live for Lelouch's sake was strong. He dodged around lance thrusts and slash harkens, never once stopping in the swinging of his swords. Occasionally he would pause long enough to let the MSV shields take in a torrent of bullets or block a weapon that otherwise would have caused him some minuscule harm, but even then his swords were only idle in his hands for five seconds or less.

o---o

Suzaku Kururugi... He was an interesting man. Lelouch had discovered this long ago, when he'd first seen his friend's inhuman ability to pilot the Lancelot, but Suzaku had never once given him reason to believe otherwise. He was a pilot that surpassed all others, save for maybe Karen, and with the insurmountable strength of the Lancelot, he was more than deserving of the aptly given title Black Knight.

More than an enigmatic warrior, he was also an equally interesting friend. Even in their current falling out, he was fiercly loyal to him, taking his word as law even when Lelouch suspected he'd mutiny. After all, Suzaku's loyalty had been so easily shaken as to betray Britannia in the first place, and a small part of Lelouch would always be wary of this fact coming back around and hitting him hard. But Suzaku had given him no reason to be distrusted, and so Lelouch continued to put his faith in the greatest of their aces.

He set the Guren down near the governmental offices, tall and a pure white that strongly contrasted the desert-like surroundings, where already mechanics were waiting to replace the Guren's battery. As he turned about to join the forces holed up nearby, the thought crossed his mind that Suzaku may benefit more from his aid. ... No, that would not do. Suzaku could at least hold out until he broke the desperate battle taking place near the offices. Panzer-Hummel were being destroyed one after the other, but their charge toward the offices was hardly being slowed. There were simply too many to hold off for much longer.

"All forces," he called, his voice drawling with a commanding aura even to his own ears, "break into two groups and move to attack the enemy from behind." Meanwhile, he landed along the main road toward the governmental offices where many of the enemy Panzer-Hummel were moving, with Trikuta Hill and the Jaisalmer Fort to his back, overlooking him. There several KMFs were posted with sniper rifles, but their usefulness was likely dulled by his appearance.

Lelouch struck out his arms, the golden yellow fingers of the Gawain pointing forward as the Panzer-Hummel neared. Their every effort to do him harm bounced harmlessly off the massive MSV shield that encompassed his entire body, and they could do little to prepare themselves as a slash harken launched from all ten of his fingers, each embedding in a different Panzer-Hummel. Rather than pushing the weapons all the way through, he swung the caught Frames about, slamming them into their comrades and causing even more destruction as his fingers retracted. The walls of the buildings on either side of them remained largely unscathed, but there was visible damage – falling of bricks, mostly – done to the exteriors.

The Panzer-Hummel ranks were undaunted by this however, moving at the same pace they had been before, firing whatever weapons they could at him; rounds from the machine guns, missiles from the cannons on their arms and slash harkens all flew at him from all sides, slamming into his massive shielding. Though no damage was actually done, the force alone of the many assaults were enough to force him to dig in his heels to prevent being driven back. His slash harkens flew one after the other, one firing while another retracted, allowing there to never be a moment where the enemy was free from one of his slash harkens. It was a risky approach at best, but it allowed for a better defense, which Lelouch felt he needed at that moment.

Just a little longer, though... The forces he had sent to move around were nearing their position, using chaff smoking to remain undetected by the enemy sensors. Surely the enemy had some idea what his strategy was, but with their attention so wholly on him, them knowing or not was relatively meaningless. They would be caught in a pincer before long regardless.

Suddenly the Panzer-Hummel halted, a stray missile continuing on it's path and slamming into his shielding, shaking the cockpit violently. Lelouch gritted his teeth and launched all ten of his slash harkens again, the wired anchors slamming into the chests of ten different Panzer-Hummels and destroying them instantly. Lelouch was never more thankful than he was at that moment that the Gawain required very little actual piloting skill; the sheer destructive strength of the Gawain made it his ideal Frame, and it's lack of mobility was hardly a problem with it's status as one of their unique flight-capable KMFs.

The lack of movement from the enemy was not something that required Lelouch's level of intellect to find out – whoever was in command was surely one of Schneizel's better leaders, to have been able to so perfectly nullify the, admittedly half-hearted, tactic he had come up with. "Take cover and fire when you see an opening!" he ordered, and as soon as they did he fired both of his Hadron cannons, letting the streams of red and black energy break through the enemy ranks with ease. In their wake were less than ten Panzer-Hummel, all grouping together in a desperate attempt to keep from being wiped out.

A small part of Lelouch – the usually larger part that fought with his mind rather than his emotions – felt that he was going a little overboard with his fighting, but he decided not to think anything of it. At the moment, all he cared about was repelling the enemy attack, and the lingering anger of the past few days demanded to be used. He charged forward, the ranks of Panzer-Hummel parting around him, until he was standing in the middle of the road with the Panzer-Hummel surrounding him. Then, with one finger pointing at each Panzer-Hummel, he launched his slash harkens.

Watching the explosions all around him, he felt a multitude of things. He felt satisfied. He felt like he'd done a good deed. And he felt disgusted. What was wrong with him, taking pleasure in such a ruthless action? This wasn't like his fighting before; this could not be justified as a necessary course of action, one that he would have to make whether he liked it or not. No, there was another way... he simply wanted self-satisfaction.

War does indeed change people. And Lelouch, for the first time, truly gave thought to that.

o---o

Being a sovereign, while just as important as being a commander was, in a word, troublesome.

Try as he might, Lelouch never could find himself enjoying the monotony of sitting in place, listening to various different things and giving his own opinion while accepting those of others. Perhaps it was a fault of his, but he always felt that things worked best when they went his way, and acceding to the demands of others altered his own vision, however slightly.

Like today, for example. Much of Cornelia's court had been adopted into his own when the Viceroy's Palace was made the administrative capital of the United States, and while they were adept at what they did and were not overtly greedy, they simply did not connect with Lelouch. There were demands to expand the Tokyo Settlement to accommodate for the recent influx of immigrants, requests that they lessen their focus on Knightmare Frame production and instead focus more on rebuilding Japan from it's decaying state, suffering as it was from nearly a decade of warfare.

And these were, no matter how he looked at it, good suggestions. As far as he was concerned, he was relatively glad that he had advisors that cared for more than their own gain – they cared for making Japan better. But this was to be at the expense of their ability to wage war, and with the world as it was, warfare was necessary. Peace could not truly reign with things as they were.

"But Your Highness, if we do not rebuild the Gifu Settlement, we won't be able to reform central Japan at all!"

Lelouch nodded absently, but he couldn't really deny the truth of those words – he never could, but all the same he hardly wanted to address them. Without really addressing the issue, he turned to the speaker – a man of little more than five feet, with long blonde hair and shimmering green eyes, wearing the regal clothing that was to be expected of Britannian nobility; the former head of House Amherst, Garth Amherst – and stared at him intently, wondering if there truly was an underlying greed to the man that was simply being very well hidden. One could never trust the motives of a noble whom had been forced from his home, after all, although according to Cornelia Garth had come willingly. "What about expanding the Tokyo Settlement? And with Lord Kururugi trying to break through the enemy position along the Congo River, we have very few funds that are not being expended keeping the main army supplied."

Garth flipped his hair over his shoulder, remaining strictly serious even when doing something so casual and dismissive. "We are drawing in funds and supplies from almost one third of the world, Your Highness. Surely we can spare funds to make living conditions for the people better."

Lelouch started, staring down Garth for a moment to judge the genuinity in those words. Either this man was genuinely concerned about the people, or he knew just the right way to hit him – Lelouch, for all of his recently cold-hearted actions, could not hurt the people. The people, especially those whom had lived under Britannia's rule as Numbers, had a special place in his heart as kindred spirits.

"I see..." Lelouch murmured, considering the idea with a thoughtful expression. "Very well. Lord Haliburton will oversee the reconstruction and defense of the Gifu Settlement."

"Lord Haliburton?" Garth was legitimately surprised by this, and for good reason – with the loss of the Blue Knight and the other Knights being dispatched to their different frontlines, only the Gold Knight had remained in the Tokyo Settlement. "But if he goes, we..."

"Cornelia has returned from California, and the Royal Knights are on standby, as are our standing forces," Lelouch cut him off, throwing his head back to rest against the comfortable chair. "And Britannia is fighting off the various insurgents rising to power throughout their territory; the Numbers are in an uproar with Britannia's weakening, and they are trying to reclaim the many regions they have lost.

"The time is good for us to worry about our own internal security," Lelouch continued, though he didn't really believe that; their funds were still better spent ensuring that their troops were not lacking for supplies. That, more than properly colonizing Japan, he felt was of the utmost importance. "If we send Lord Haliburton himself, we can make sure the position is defended. As it stands, it and Kyoto are both very prominent outposts here in Japan." But now that the thought was on his mind, Lelouch found he could not deny the necessity to make sure the people were not lacking. Already China was well on the way to repairing the damage done to it while the High Eunuchs had held power, and Africa was thriving more than ever now that it had a stable economy, which left Japan as the only land in the United States not yet tended to.

There was also a historical significance to the Gifu area that, although privately, Lelouch intended to make use of. It had been the powerful stronghold that was conquered and turned into a grand castle unlike any other several hundred years ago, when the warlord Nobunaga Oda had brazenly marched toward Kyoto and taken control of the country's government. As one of the most notable historical figures in Japan, his memory was a boon to Lelouch's efforts to reform Japan. An ironic boon at that, Lelouch thought, considering the resemblance of their respective campaigns, despite being on entirely different scales. That, and Nobunaga openly exercised cruelty and brutality on more than one occasion, which was an evil Lelouch had yet to acquaint himself with. And hopefully never would.

"... Very well then," Garth said despondently, but he didn't seem to actually disagree with the suggestion. In fact, rebuilding the Gifu Settlement was an advantage in many ways, least of which being it's historical significance and it's stance as a potentially powerful military base. "If that is settled, we ---"

All movement came to a halt, words left half-formed as a massive shaking seemed to rock the very earth beneath them. It was not an earthquake, if only for the fact that it was doing no harm to the building itself or the many paintings hanging on the walls, all of Clovis' design. Lelouch dreaded to know what the cause of such a thing was, but the larger part of him knew that knowing would be better than ignorance. All the same, he couldn't resist the sinking feeling in his stomach that something bad was coming. Something very bad.

"Your Highness!" a soldier cried, bursting into the throne room so quickly he didn't take the time to bow. His uniform was that of the Black Knights rather than Cornelia's Royal Knights, with the Geass sigil on his chest. "That..."

"What is it?" Lelouch asked impatiently.

"That explosion..." Explosion? Lelouch raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing, waiting for the soldier to finish what he'd been saying. As the seconds ticked by, Lelouch could feel that sinking feeling building to a boiling point in his chest, bursting like a fountain when the soldier said, "... It was Ashford Academy, Your Highness."

o---o

Lelouch's feet were moving, even though his mind refused to keep up with it's own actions. He was going somewhere, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out where or why he was going there, and he didn't really care. He was trapped in a lifeless daze, his mind capable only of repeating the extent of that soldier's heart rending report.

"What was the extent of the damage?" he had asked but twenty minutes ago, his heart pounding in his chest as he clung to the hope that, somehow, the damage was not nearly as severe as he rightfully presumed it was. That was probably a mistake, he thought in reminiscence, to let himself be held up by something as fragile as hope.

The soldier's expression had turned grim, his eyes averting from Lelouch's own at that moment, and Lelouch knew. Without it being said, he knew what had happened. And his heart's pounding stopped suddenly, reduced to infrequent and soft beats meant only to keep him alive; his heart didn't dare serve any other purpose, lest he dare to hope again.

"The entire school was destroyed," he said, probably knowing how unnecessary it was to say so, but saying it anyway. "Lord Guilford ordered the Royal Knights to go search for survivors, but..."

"But?" Lelouch pressed, no longer caring for the safety of his nearly nonexistent heart. He had a feeling what was coming, but he wanted to hear it anyway, to dash any remnant desire to hope.

"Lady Nunnally's wheelchair..." the soldier murmured, blissfully unaware that His Highness was dying a little bit inside with every word spoken, "... Lord Guilford found it amidst the wreckage."

He had immediately stood then, declaring the meeting to be over and took his leave. He had been wandering ever since, replaying that conversation in his head again and again. He almost wanted to laugh, for all the good it would do him. Despite the inexorable pain within his chest, he felt he needed to laugh. Maybe because he had finally realized that, in this world, there were no such things as fair and unfair. His mother had been taken from him and his sister irreparably crippled, and so he had fought back against his father. And in turn, he had lost handfuls of comrades, now friends as well, and even his sister. The only person he still felt he could hold on to, even if she quivered slightly in fear everytime she heard his voice, even if she stuttered when she spoke, so nervous was she that her dear brother was a demon that would bestow upon her the same fate he had given to so many others. People who had deserved it, but nonetheless had been the judge of many a life.

It was then that he realized, on some level, where his legs were taking him. Back to where it had all began, to the one person he felt he could hang onto besides Nunnally. She had betrayed his trust and torn into his heart, but even then his heart clung to her memory like a homesick child, praying that the small comfort her presence could bring would reach out to him. Even if she had become an enemy in his eyes, his heart was willing to look beyond that for the sake of it's own survival. And Lelouch was powerless to disobey, forced to watch as his legs dragged him toward the cell that held her.

She was laying against the stone wall at the back of her small, eight foot by ten foot cell, garbed in the white one-piece he had found her in, the many straps lining it's front and it's arms wrapped around one another, binding her in such a way that Lelouch couldn't even identify. Her eyes were wide open, watching him like a frightened animal would it's predator, though there was no trace of such emotion on her face. Like his own, Lelouch was sure, her face was blank, and not of her own volition.

"What do you want?" she asked calmly. It wasn't patronizing or laced with suspicion – it was a casual question that demanded a casual answer, which was a better way to go about this than Lelouch could have hoped for. ... Hoped, he laughed afterwards, shaking his head at the absurdity of even thinking such a word. Hope was a sin as far as he was concerned, useless as it was to him. Hope did nothing but disappoint, contrary to the intent of such a thing.

His hands gripped the bars of her cell, parted just enough that he could fit the width of three of his fingers between them. The cell door was hard to find at first, as it looked the same as the rest of the bars and there was no discernible barrier that could be used to locate where it began and ended; the only way to locate it would be to find the lock and the handle that opened the door, which was harder than one would assume. His eyes found both after a cursory glance, and he put the key into the keyhole and turned, opening the door with his free hand.

"Let's talk," he replied evenly, but he couldn't keep a bit of desperation out of his voice. C.C. noticed it as well, raising an eyebrow as she stood, silently walking until she was on the other side of the bars, with the door being closed behind her.

"I could run away," C.C. stated, but it was easy to tell she wasn't serious. Not entirely serious, at least.

Lelouch nodded absently, turning around and walking, making sure he could hear her footsteps echoing his all the while. "I'll take my chances."

"Oh?" C.C. murmured, following him despite her taunts of doing otherwise. "You trust me, then?" she asked, and it took actual effort to keep himself from laughing at the somewhat hopeful tone she employed. He would have thought she'd seen the truth in hoping before now, but he didn't care enough to press the issue.

"No," he said obstinately, "but I know you." He continued his walking, making his way back to his own room slowly, dismissing the thoughts of the empty bed in his room that had been untouched for many days. With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he said with a roll of his shoulders, "Nunnally is dead."

The footsteps following him stopped suddenly, and as he looked back he saw that his words had left the desired expression on C.C.'s face – surprise. Her eyebrows raised of their own volition, and she asked before she could think of anything else, "What happened?"

"Ashford was attacked," Lelouch replied carefully, taking great care to make sure his voice was leveled and devoid of emotion. "It was definitely a bombing of some kind, but we haven't found out who did it or why. Her wheelchair was found with the ruins of the academy."

"And so you came to me because you have nobody left?" C.C. asked. If Lelouch hadn't been so focused on keeping emotion out of his face, he was sure the surprise and the inevitable wince that would follow would have told her she hit the nail on the head. "What of your own plans?" she asked in spite of her own best efforts not to, curious as she was to discover the underlying thought to his coming to her.

Unfortunately for Lelouch, this had been a self-imposed impulse at best, with no pre-thought whatsoever that made for a scenario so unlike him that he didn't dare speak until he had formed a believable, logical reasoning that was both true – even if it was only to be a backhanded truth – and... reasonable. A high price no matter how one was to look at it, but Lelouch was confident in his ability to do so on demand. In fact, his mind, now back in full operational order, was already piecing together various elements of things he had learned of late to formulate a reasonable opinion and an underlying ideal to go with it.

"You and I will be the end of it all," Lelouch stated, more or less thinking as he went. "With us, Geass' curse will end. Geass will return to society through us, and we will live forever as it's sole survivors."

The facial expression he received in kind was one of disbelief, incredulity and, more surprisingly, amazement. "You would accept such a fate, knowing now that Geass does to you?"

Lelouch nodded, reaching forward to take her hand before she could pull it away. "We are partners. If this world will take everything else away from us, we will stick together and make sure it can't do that to anybody else."


Contrary to what my profile said, I did manage to salvage enough battery power on my laptop to recover the rest of my work for this fic, so it didn't fall into the unconditional hiatus the rest of my work has. On the other hand, because this was all I had to work on, I am starting to think that I'm working a little bit too fast for my own liking; not that I'm fishing for reviews, but the past two chapters have yielded so few that I'm beginning to think interest in this is, ironically enough, dwindling now that I'm actively working on it again. I don't really mind either way because I'll finish it regardless for the people that do read it, but it certainly helps when I have proper feedback to work with – not that you should feel obligated, or anything.