Glad to see that last chapter was as good to you guys as it felt to me. In spite of trying to be humble, I was very pleased with last chapter, particularly my work in repairing my generally poor job with character development. I've actually been taking the time to reread my work lately, if only to see what I lacked then that I don't lack now, and last chapter was a far cry from some of my earlier chapters. I was actually pleasantly surprised to see how far I've come since May of last year, especially since back then I felt my writing was really good anyway. It's kind of cool to see how much better it's gotten over time.

And to NotAGunForHire, thank you for pointing out that blunder – though it should be said that, rather than being a blunder, it was a poorly remedied mistake. See, rather than doing revisions after posting the Document on as I often do, I did all of my proofreading from OpenOffice, and then uploaded it already revised and posted the chapter straight away. And because can be unnecessarily complicated, the barrier I'd placed between the story and the end of chapter A/N last chapter didn't show up in the posted version. It's fixed now, at any rate.

Anyway, this chapter once again has a couple things of questionable importance. This mostly stems from Euphemia, and my recent decision that her just falling off the grid wasn't a good thing. So yes, I am probably digging my own grave by adding such additional depth so close to the end, but I'll do my best to keep things under control all the while. I'm taking a liberty in this still being my first official work, so this is as much a concrete attempt at a good story as it is me testing the waters of my own writing talent. It just so happened that my first serious attempt ended up coming much farther than I could ever expected it to have.


Guinevere sat with her arms folded, right leg hanging over the thigh of her left, reclining in the seat that by all rights belonged to Her Majesty, and scowled. In the absence of an Empress the seat went to the eldest female relative of His Majesty, a fact that she all too gleefully accepted. When councils were held she was at her brother's side, the stern and watchful vision of scorn that his benevolence would have none of. Nobody dared try to walk over Odysseus, she knew, but if they had the slightest inclination to do so it was rended asunder by her presence.

None of this was reason for her scowling, though. Well, it could be said that her brother's nature had something to do with it, but that wasn't entirely so. No, the source of her frustration was the constant appearances of various military officials, all demanding military action now that Lelouch's entire attention was on Schneizel. First it was the Grand General, then the Commander-in-Chief, and now the Knights of the Round as well.

At present it was Gino Weinberg and Luciano Bradley, two of the youngest amongst the distinguished circle of soldiers. The former of the two was tall and slim, but with an authoritative setting of his shoulders that rivaled that of the former Emperor. He had a crooked smile in place even as he spoke of the most grim of tidings, with carelessly groomed blond hair that fell all over his face and swayed from place to place whenever he shook his head.

The latter looked like a sadistic murderer taken straight out of an overplayed horror movie. Like his comrade he wore a possibly permanently fixed smile, though his was far more depraved and originated from thoughts that only he could be thinking, of murder and torture that he took the utmost of pleasures in. His flaming orange hair stood straight up on end, with dark red highlights to the upright bangs that gave it a proper look of a raging fire. These details were all too fitting; as the Vampire of Britannia, his appearance was every bit as maniacal as one would expect.

"So, you want me to..." Odysseus trailed off as words began to uneloquently fail him, and he grasped his hair between his fingers and tugged lightly. "You want me to authorize military action against the United States? Break the agreements we so recently made?"

"What does time have to do with it, Your Majesty?" Gino asked, raising an eyebrow. "Their very existence is a testament to swift action, and we know that if we do not take action now, the moment to do so will never come."

"Oh? And how so?" Guinevere asked with a sneer. In her mind, she was thanking one of the age old Britannian customs for such a closely knit relation between the Knights of the Round and the nobility, such to the point that formalities were unnecessary. No, she could freely express her distaste for them attempting to uproot the foundation of her brother's ideals.

"Though it is a stalemate now, it will not be long before the Federation lines crumble. If the United States take control of the Gibraltar Strait, they will inevitably fall apart." Gino spoke with a determined sort of defiance that strongly contrasted his usually laid back and casual nature, and his eyes narrowed into tiny slits where they would typically be wide with innocent jubilance. "Like the Sakuradite resources in Japan, trade routes along the Mediterranean will belong solely to the United States. And has been made very clear, they do not intend to share their wealth with the world."

Luciano weaved a strand of his hair around two of his fingers, tapping his foot incessantly as Gino spoke. He rolled his eyes every so often for emphasis, and sometimes would go so far as to roll his head in a circle, cracking his neck. When finally Gino had finally finished his uncharacteristically serious speech, he appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Why he was even there, Guinevere didn't want to know. Surely for some reason that revolved around his need to satisfy that insatiable bloodlust of his. The one that had been sufficiently fed up until Odysseus' rise to the throne.

"At any rate," Odysseus sighed, tensing his shoulders and grasping hard on the arms of his throne as he slowly stood. "I am sure I can convince Lelouch to maintain trade with us, if only to avoid a depression. That aside, military response is not necessary, nor is it something I am willing to do to an ally."

Guinevere gave her brother a sideways glance and touched his hip with her hand, drawing his attention. "He made a good point though, brother. Lelouch's ceasefire with us is solely for his benefit, so that he may swallow the British Isles and corner us back to the lands of our foundation. Already we have lost much of our conquests either to Lelouch or to Schneizel; how can we expect to be respected beyond our borders if we do not attempt to fight back?"

Odysseus obstinately shook his head, billowing out his cape behind him and rolling his shoulders. "The root of the present conflict is Schneizel. While I would rather they settle the matter through diplomacy, I want the world to be ready to move into a diplomatic era when the war ends. No longer should change need to be dictated by warfare!" He turned to Guinevere and pulled her to her feet, holding her within inches of his own body. His eyes shown with an intensity that had remained dormant for far too long, in her opinion, and the sight of such a powerful man in her brother pleased her to no end. "For how many years have we fought, be it because we have needed to or because it has benefited us to do so?"

"For far too long," she replied rigidly and stupidly, determinedly ignoring the surprised and amused look in the Knight of Three's eyes and the casually observant look in the Knight of Ten's. She couldn't care less what they thought at that moment; she cared for nothing except enjoying finally seeing her brother become the man he should have become years ago. The sort her own husband would never be, the influential but otherwise pitiful man that he was. Ah, how wonderful it would be to see the man her brother had become in her husband.

"That is right," Odysseus said as he released her, turning in place to once again face his knights. "We will not fight. We will not join the race for land that my brothers are determined to continue. We will be a sanctuary of peace, and when the dust settles on their conflict, we will be ready! Lelouch will attack or Schneizel will attack – both are inevitabilities. And we will answer with diplomacy, not with swords or guns. We will settle our differences with words and open arms, not with soldiers and bombs. Not a month ago I lost my exiled half-sister to the flames of war, so remember her loss before you so callously request us to resort to military response!"

The entire room fell into a stunned silence as Odysseus finished his outburst. Nothing save for the soft sips of wine glasses being drained by now less than eager drinkers filled the tense air, and all eyes rested on the confident form of His Majesty, head held high with authority and his cape still flowing out behind him from dramatic gestures made throughout his speech.

Guinevere dared to admit that she loved every minute of it. Her brother was feared. Feared! So long had she known that her brother had the makings of a great Emperor, and her confidence in that belief had so long driven her to hope that she would ride his success with him. She had married out of necessity to compensate for her brother's longstanding shortcomings; a loveless and fickle marriage, made to secure an oath with some wealthy and prominent district in Area Six. The man was a weakling, somebody who had gawked openly at first meeting. He was disgusting and without merit, and would never own more of her than a hand to hold for the public eye, but it had given her the prominence she had hoped her brother would provide.

But now, she didn't need that worthless dreck of a man – his persistent attempts at coercing her into continuing his bloodline could be ignored in earnest. Her brother had finally become the man she had hoped he would, a man fitting of the throne he had inherited. With him in his rightful place she could live contently, sufficiently wealthy and with her position secure – but most of all, with the one person she held any emotional care for finally having risen to the heights deserving of him. Her smile was wide and from ear to ear, genuine and full of adoring satisfaction. She fell back into her seat an infinitely satisfied woman, grasping her own wine glass from a nearby table and sipping the red liquid casually.

These sentiments were not shared by many. Though the nobility and the Emperor's court had grown to at least accept his moderate stance, there were few who could deny a longing to return to the heights Britannia had been at prior to Zero's rise. The power they had now was grand, but Britannia had been so much more a year ago.

"I want to get into contact with Cornelia," he continued, ignoring the contemplative wheels turning in the heads of so very many. "Whether she is to remain with Lelouch or return control of the Tokyo Settlement to Britannia, it doesn't matter. But we need a go-between to establish commercial ties with the United States. We need to make the first step in trying to solve problems through diplomacy and words."

"Allow me to, please," a quiet voice sounded from along the forefront of the assembled people. Far along the line of the princes and princesses of Britannia was Euphemia, her pink gloved hands tucked away in the depths of her layered white dress. "I want to talk to my sister, and see... And see if there can be peace in all of this. I don't want to fight anymore."

Odysseus nodded, smiling broadly in his half-sister's direction. "I leave it to you, sister. Let's see if we can bring an end to all of this."

o---o

Monotonous, monotonous, monotonous. Cornelia couldn't stand the mundane work of politics, of matters that needed be solved with words. She had been born a fighter, and while the era where the use for such talents was drawing to a close, she had much difficulty applying herself in a realm beyond that.

It was a shame, really. Before long the war with Schneizel would end, and with any luck Lelouch would have the good sense to use peaceful means to put an end to their feud with Britannia. The last thing she wanted was to be forced to fight Britannia, after all. Fighting her father after all he had done was okay, but she didn't want to antagonize her country more than she already had by being swept up in things.

But she knew better than to hope for that. She had seen what Nunnally's death had done to her half-brother; good sense was not something he had any longer. No, he would use whatever means were necessary to achieve the ends that he sought, and he no longer cared what he lost in the process. Whatever change had made gains and losses so inconsequential to him, she didn't like it.

And whatever hope of him returning to normal had died with the revelation that, she could only guess, Schneizel had been responsible for Nunnally's death. That would be the only think that would explain his sudden decision to go to the frontlines in spite of all the operations in Japan's reconstruction that fell on his shoulders. These were what inevitably fell upon her shoulders now, and she was already trying her hardest to not be grudging.

But really, a base at Gifu? Other than being a go-between from Tokyo and Kyoto, she saw little purpose in the hasty construction of a base there. It was virtually in the center of mainland Japan, as much so as it could be were one not to consider Kyoto to be the center. And then there was to be considered the fact that not only was Japan an unlikely target of attack with the Federation held down as they were and with Britannia having gone off the grid militarily, but also that Gifu was an unlikely place for them to be attacked.

It made absolutely no sense to her. But then again, how much of Lelouch actually did make sense to most people?

"Your Highness," a guard standing outside her room poked his head in unceremoniously, taking more care than Cornelia thought necessary to not look anywhere but at her. "Lord Guilford and Lord Darlton are here to see you."

"Send them in," she said with a casual, but generally dismissive wave of her hand. The guard disappeared and the two filed in, Andreas first and Guilford close behind. Both looked far more lively than they should have, an unfortunate side effect of their recent inactivity. Incompetence and idleness were unforgivable amongst the Royal Knights and so they had maintained training sessions for the sake of that, but it had extended no farther than basic drills and mock battles either involving infantry or Knightmare Frames. Needless to say, their schedules had been unusually free of late.

"Your Highness," they declared as one, bringing their right arms up in a rigid salute. They had been far more understanding of her decision to remain with Lelouch even after Britannia's reformation than she had thought them to be – being loyal to Britannia first and her second, or so she had thought, it would have made sense for them to return. But no, they had understood her intentions, accepting her wishes and swearing loyalty to her all over again, in spite of Britannia being their home and Lelouch being the undisputed killer of five of Andreas' children – specifically, the Glaston Knights. The proud moment brought suitably prideful tears to her eyes as she recalled it, but she dismissed the bothersome things from her mind, and with them the threatening wetness beyond her lids.

She placed her elbows on her desk and folded her fingers together, resting her chin on the knuckles and regarding her two knights with an indulgent warmth. "What is it?" she asked, trying as best she could not to let on that the excuse to momentarily leave the mundane work strewn about her desk behind was refreshing. Unprofessional in every sense of the word, that's what that would be.

"We have an incoming call from Pendragon on the Emperor's personal line," Andreas stated evenly, but a small twitch in his lips was not missed – accordingly, Cornelia raised an eyebrow, added in a predatory smile for good measure, and urged him onward. "It is Her Highness Euphemia, and she wants to speak to you."

Whatever she had been preparing herself for forgotten, Cornelia shot upright and out of her seat the moment she heard her sister's name. She hurriedly pressed and held down the button on her intercom and rushed out, "Put me through to the Britannia Palace," as fast as her vocal cords could possibly form the words. She was dimly aware that her knights were still in place, watching her frantic movements with some surprise, but she didn't care at that particular moment. Hearing Euphemia's angelic voice, on the other hand, demanded her immediate attention.

"Sister?" There it was; that soft, serene and gentle voice of Euphemia Li Britannia. It was no surprise that she of all people was able to retain her identity in the midst of the widely spread chaos, remaining the epitome of all that is gentle and warm in the world. Cornelia couldn't help the smile that broke her face then. "Is that you, sister?"

"It's me, Euphemia," Cornelia quietly replied, sitting down once again and pulling her chair as close to the intercom as she could. "But why are you calling me? I..."

"I know," Euphemia replied just as quietly, though her voice was not tinged with the shameful regret that Cornelia's own was. "That doesn't matter."

"But..." Cornelia dumbly persisted. Subconsciously she was aware of how stupid and uncharacteristic she sounded but at that moment, with her younger sister's recently forgotten voice filling her ears so wonderfully, it didn't matter. Nothing did. She could abandon her strong front and become a frightened child, if that was what it took to hear her sister's voice again. It was pathetic, she wanted to tell herself, but the mere idea of it died a brutal death to the part of her that longed to be in her sister's company once again. Too long it had been, though in reality it had not been long at all.

"We don't need to fight," Euphemia said gently, so gently that Cornelia knew by inherent instinct that she didn't assume that Cornelia believed that very thing. "Let's end things peacefully, sister. All of us."

Sounding ever more like a sorely broken record, and one that must have had very little variety to begin with, Cornelia sullenly replied, "But we're not..."

With words no longer being Cornelia's forté, she instead cleared her throat loudly, conveying quite clearly both her confusion on the matter and her apparent inability to formulate proper sentences. "What do you... mean?" she managed to force out, more perturbed than anything.

"We need to stop fighting!" Euphemia cried. In her mind, Cornelia could vaguely make out a picture of a very heated Euphemia shouting the same thing, looking almost too adorable as she played a role far more serious than was the norm between the two sisters. "Our brother wants to end things peacefully! He wants Schneizel to be his friend, he wants to keep up friendly relations with Lelouch... Why do we have to continue to solve our problems through violence?"

Cornelia wanted to say that violence was the only way to put an end to violence – that was the thesis by which Britannia and all the world had run, after all. But then she remembered that no longer was the world Britannia's world, but Lelouch's world. The one he had taken by the throat and twisted to his liking. It was idealistic and quite possibly selfish, but his twists and turns to the world were what people wanted of it, right?

Right?

She sighed, trying to recollect her thoughts on the matter. Why did there need to be only warfare? Diplomacy was not a foreign thing any longer or, at the very least, it shouldn't have been. Words could be used now that the world had been changed, she was sure of it. That was what so many people claimed Lelouch had set out to do in the beginning. If that was not to be the case, then...

"You're right, Euphie," Cornelia replied, smiling indulgently. If Lelouch was no longer going to follow the promises he had made, she would have to make a few little changes to make sure that he didn't stop a good thing. If she couldn't trust Lelouch, then at least she could trust her sister. Together, they could do this. For the sake of Euphemia's smile, she would make sure the world became one for diplomacy.

If that was not ideal to Lelouch, than he would simply no longer be the one the world needed.

o---o

"Why are you alive?!"

The right fist of Mao's Vincent slammed into the Gawain's chest while one of the Gawain's long, golden fingers stabbed into the Vincent's shoulder, destroying one of it's factsphere sensors. The two held onto eachother for dear life as they clashed in the air, the Vincent with it's wide arsenal of weapons and the Gawain with it's natural defenses and powerful, albeit limited, weapons.

The Hadron Cannons were momentarily forgotten, primarily due to the fact that trying to use them at such close range and against such a fast Knightmare Frame was foolish. Instead Lelouch and C.C. focused on the Gawain's other weapons, C.C. piloting and using it's arms and legs however possible while Lelouch used the many slash harkens it's fingers boasted. These were nothing in the face of the spear, rifle and other weapons Mao had at his disposal, but they made do and hoped that Lelouch's quick wit and constant reconfiguring of the Gawain's defenses to suit the assault it took would keep them going.

It was growing more and more difficult to do so, though. In close quarters they had the advantage over Mao, as they were able to hold down his arms and render him virtually weaponless. But when he got to long range, where he could use his longer ranged artillery to pick at their defenses bit by bit, they were in much the same position. The battle between them was brutal and merciless, and it was more than Lelouch felt he could handle at times. Only C.C.'s constant presence, taking pressure from his shoulders, gave him any comfort whatsoever.

"I don't want to hear that from you!" Mao cried shrilly, sounding like every bit the child his mindset suggested. He was older in a sense – and not in the sense that his body was several decades ahead of his mind – but there was still an inherent childishness to him, probably born of the insanity he had suffered at the hands of being unable to control his Geass, and later being left alone with that power. Before, Lelouch could find it in him to pity Mao for his grim fate. But now, when the man before him was responsible for the deaths of his friends and his sister, he felt no remorse. He felt nothing but the unyielding hatred that had spurred him to come to the frontlines in the first place, to satisfy his selfish need for revenge.

The Gawain's leg swung out and decapitated the Vincent's right leg, and before she could bring it back it was grabbed by Mao. Joined together once again, the two Knightmare Frames tumbled through the air while they clashed, fists throwing and slash harkens winding around eachother. Mao kept the Vincent's arms wrapped tightly around the leg of the Gawain all the while, making use of what weapons he could without them all the while. Logically Lelouch knew that Mao should have pulled away, but it was quite clear that Mao was not right of mind.

And for Mao, that statement couldn't have been more true. Every time he fought Lelouch, he reached out with his mind, desperate to use his dreaded curse to overpower Lelouch. But there were no thoughts to be heard. They were too high up to hear the voices of the soldiers down below, and the deathly silence was disconcertingly foreign to him. The vivid memory of his days in solitude with C.C., where there were no thoughts to be heard and to torment him, played itself in his mind. It was the exact same scenario, and there was only one conclusion to be made.

Lelouch had become a Code bearer, like C.C. had once told him that he would become! It hadn't been given by C.C., Mao knew that – he'd be able to hear her thoughts now if that were the case. No, there had been somebody else. And Lelouch had gone into this battle knowing that he was safe from Mao's mind games, knowing that Mao would probably make that assumption. Mao gritted his teeth at the thought that he was once again being played the fool, and held on to the Gawain all the more tightly as they clashed.

He would not be made a fool of. Not him! Not when he had come so far, endured so much, for the chance to get his revenge! If pride was all he had left, then so help him, he would cling to it. He would not lose to Lelouch here, no matter what. Lelouch had no advantage over him anyway; it was now an even battle where only their abilities mattered. If that was to be the case, he would have to win without his advantage. He could do that, right?

Lelouch growled low in his throat when Mao suddenly released them, sending the Gawain spinning uncertainly and unceremoniously through the air for several long moments. By instinct he fired the Hadron cannons, the streams twisting and turning as they spun, much like the turning of a flaming wheel. His instinctive action had the desired, albeit unintended, result though, keeping the Vincent at bay until they had righted themselves again. When they had they immediately began firing slash harkens, hooking one around the Vincent's left arm while another stabbed itself into the Vincent's only remaining factsphere sensor, effectively rendering Mao blind.

"You should be dead!" Lelouch spat, ramming another slash harken through the Vincent's only remaining leg; the apendage snapped off with a loud crunch, leaving in it's wake the semblance of a cripple who had his leg removed from the thigh down, with veins – or in this case, wires – poking out through the wound. Another dug into where the factsphere sensor over the Vincent's right arm had been, severing that limb as well. The crippled remains of the Knightmare Frame dangled helplessly from the slash harken wrapped around it's left arm, the golden digit digging into the joint of the arm lightly, but not without pressure.

"Me?" Mao cackled, but the childish jubilance that had scarcely been present throughout their fight had vanished entirely, leaving only a scathing rage in it's wake. "You are a demon! You took C.C. from me, you ruined my life! What I did was deserved!"

Lelouch's breath passed between his teeth and out of his mouth in a loud, audible even to Mao, snarl. His body shook with rage as he forced full control of the Gawain away from C.C. - she was indifferent to the matter anyway; she let it go willingly, though she did cast a worried glance to her partner – and dug the rest of his slash harkens into the Vincent. First the head, then the lower parts of the torso and what remained of the legs, and then lastly the left arm until all that was left was the chest, with the cockpit behind it, held up pitifully by the intact Float System backpack. "This is..." Lelouch breathed, the sound passing through his teeth in that same snarl, "... for Nunnally."

He pulled away from Mao just enough to give them breathing space, and after training his entire focus on that floating scrap of metal, he fired the Hadron cannons. One stream passed by harmlessly while the other tore through the cockpit mercilessly, leaving nothing in it's wake save for the fading sound of Mao's scream as his life was wrestled from him so painfully. Lelouch howled with laughter then, delighting himself in the wonderful feeling of revenge. His laughter reached out to anybody that could hear it, including several of the soldiers down below, but he didn't care. Never had killing been so rewarding.

"I've done it, Nunnally!" he cried to nobody except himself, leaning back in his seat and looking toward the roof of the cockpit. "You hated me, right? You never told me so, but I knew. You feared me, and you longed for the days when it was just us..." He sighed despondently, the fragmented remnants of his laughter distorting his voice into a rueful chuckle. "Those days are gone. The past doesn't matter anymore, Nunnally. For tomorrow, I have cut off one of my last ties to the past."

The only one left now was the Vampire of Britannia. That bastard Knight, the one who had taken Clovis from him. Lelouch's laughter died and his eyes narrowed at the thought, and he tightened his grip on whatever surface he could grab hold of while with his right hand he passed off piloting to C.C. again. He hung his head and sighed, speaking to C.C. in a whisper, "I can leave my past behind soon. Then, it will be only us. Alright?"

Idly nodding, C.C. focused on piloting. She had found it in her to pity Mao to the last, and while his death didn't truly bother her, the pity remained. They had a past together, forgetting the fact that she had abandoned him, and what should have been her responsibility had fallen on her partner. Lelouch was pleased though, and he was her partner – if he was pleased by Mao's death, then it was her duty to at least indulge in his happiness. She buried that pity away and smiled indulgently, listening to Lelouch's insane whispers of apologies and farewells to Nunnally, ignoring the growing feeling that it truly would be just them before long. Long before their current acquaintences were swept away by the stream of time, at any rate.

o---o

Suzaku winced in distaste as he fired one of his slash harkens from his wrist, destroying a grenade en route to their entrenched forces. He was still settled atop the Hogosha's deck, fending things off as best he could. It was not a simple matter, and while it was getting steadily easier to do, it was still a matter of immense difficulty to properly defend their forces.

By now, several had broken defenses and brazenly made for the enemy position. Some damage had been done and the enemy assault had suitably weakened, but the fact that their position along the beach was a permanent one hadn't changed. And though Lelouch had finally taken out that Vincent – had he heard laughter? Suzaku wasn't sure – he had made no move to aid their forces, instead setting off to assault the Avalon as it ascended slowly into the sky above the base's center.

Needless to say, it was clear to Suzaku that Lelouch had no intention of coming to their aid. As far as he was concerned, they were probably little more than collateral damage in his quest to satisfy himself. Lelouch had come, virtually usurped command of the army in a manner that suited only himself, and then when his whims were met, he went off and did whatever he liked. And left behind were the rest of them, fighting a losing battle that their miracle-making leader had no intention to amend.

The Guren sped by overhead, it's claw arm pointing downward and a radiation wave surging from it in a protective circle as it flew within range of another volley of rounds, all of them exploding harmlessly as they were heated by the protective shield wave. This left her virtually face to face with three Panzer-Hummel, and she effortlessly turned in place and used the wave to melt a barrage of machine gun fire before setting off high into the sky again. Her ace status amongst the United States army was very well earned.

"Karen!" Suzaku called, activating his Float System and speeding off the edge of the Hogosha, diving down at one of the Panzer-Hummel and kicking off it's right arm as it lifted the arm to fire at the Guren. He all but backflipped in place to avoid fire from another Panzer-Hummel, attaching his Hadron blaster to the barrel of the VARIS rifle and firing into three of them from close range before pulling up and away from the growing intensity of the firepower being rained upon him.

Karen hummed questioningly as she descended by his side, using the protective wave of her radiation as a shield from any firepower that still dared to assail them from so high up. The most of the enemy had gone back to focusing their attacks on the Knightmare Frames lining the beach, but the second line all had the machine guns on their hips pointing upward, as well as their cannon-mounted arms, aimed at the two of them.

"Lelouch has left us for dead," he said grimly, but he was careful to keep any anger out of his voice. "We need to get to the top of the hill before they kill all of us, and he's in no hurry to help us."

"So I see," Karen deadpanned, directing her attention briefly to the distant shape of the Avalon in the sky, guns firing while the massive form of the Gawain took all of the assaults against it's massive shield in stride, then firing it's Hadron cannons. One stream hit the massive cannon over the command center while the other hit the linear catapult, destroying both and setting aflame the area where they had been. The Avalon was completely helpless to Lelouch's heated assault, and the annoyance provided by the aircrafts that had been launching from the Avalon up until the destruction of it's linear catapult – and probably the entire hangar by extension – was minimal. Lelouch was single-handedly grabbing Schneizel by the throat, without a care for the men he was leaving for dead behind him.

Where had Zero gone, the enigmatic man who she so greatly and unconditionally respected? Karen frowned petulantly, but refused to comments on the matter.

It was an unspoken agreement between them that something needed to be done about this. Together, they descended toward where the lines of Panzer-Hummel were assembled. Karen immediately set into tearing through them with her Fukushahado wave and her slash harkens; Suzaku was close behind, simultaneously urging Todo to join them in their brazen efforts.

As soon as the order had been passed along for Todo to assist them, Suzaku began attacking in earnest. He drew away from the enemy lines long enough to reconnect the barrel of his Hadron blaster to the VARIS rifle, took aim with a brief moment of concentration, and then loosed the destructive wave along the first line of Panzer-Hummel. Several hurried to scatter away from the assault, but those closest to the ones that were hit first were doomed before they even tried to move. When the stream finally faded to nothingness, four Panzer-Hummel had been turned into burning heaps of metal, several others had nothing left to prove they'd been there in the first place and the entire first line, the one most responsible for the havoc wreaked upon their forces, was in complete disarray. Those who had survived his assault, a scattered group of about thirty Panzer-Hummel, were dispatched in relatively swift order by the Guren and the Shen-Hu.

"Charge!" Suzaku shouted, unsheathing both of his MVS and lunging at one of the Panzer-Hummel, cutting it in two before turning about and repeating the process on another. "Get to the top of the hill before they reorganize! Fight for your lives!"

A deafening affirmative from the many soldiers below rang out, loud and piercing as suddenly the many Knightmare Frames roared to life, Han-Shu and Akatsuki and Gekka numbering nearly sixty. The numbers had been far more plentiful before Lelouch had unceremoniously abandoned them after ordering them to fight a battle that shouldn't have been fought, but Suzaku was determined to make sure what was left of their decimated army see this battle through, for the sake of the many that had lost their lives to a poorly made plan and Lelouch's selfishness.

Suzaku twisted and turned in place as he swung and swung, cutting through one Panzer-Hummel after another while Karen kept close by, picking off what he couldn't see at one moment and defending him with her radiation shield the next. Within moments their allies were by their side, joining the battle truly for the first time since they had landed on the beach many hours ago. The Federation lines were crumbling quickly, but that wasn't enough for Suzaku – no, he was determined to see the base taken by their hands, not Lelouch's self-minded assault on the Avalon.

"King Lelouch has tasked us with taking the base!" Suzaku declared, deciding it best not to discredit his friend's authority, no matter how much he doubted it himself. "We have now the opportunity to do so – attack! Show them the strength of our determination! Show them our desire for our ideal tomorrow!"

A collective battle cry rang through the air as their forces rushed headlong into battle all over again, spurred on by their desire to succeed after being held down for so long. Some were the overzealous Japanese that had comprised the Order of the Black Knights and some were the dedicated Chinese that largely made up the Empire of China's Anti-Britannian Front, but neither were lacking for the dedication that made the United States' military forces so powerful. Their likeminded desire to see Lelouch's promises a reality, the connecting point in all of their efforts, made them all one collective effort, rather than the differing nationalities that they otherwise would have been.

Suzaku stayed back for the most part, allowing himself to momentarily indulge properly in his role as commander. He set up a private channel with Karen, who immediately began speaking once it had been opened, "You don't want to let Lelouch claim this victory, huh?"

Suzaku snorted derisively, holding back any bitter comments on the subject. "Lelouch is here for self-satisfaction – for all intents, I'm still in command. Lelouch will not claim a victory for his selfish satisfaction."

Karen immediately voiced her agreement, though in less pleasant terms. Again the ensuing silence spoke for what had been left unsaid, and Suzaku focused on the battle taking place then and there. The base itself was finally under proper assault, and the minimal defenses left at the base itself were being taken care of with relative ease. Their initial battle outline had been to leave the base itself intact for their own future use, and that was being upheld so far. Beyond that, Suzaku allowed himself to hang back and direct the battle via his radar, which was a lesson he desired to learn from Lelouch in full sometime soon.

"Karen, move to assist the Fourteenth Division!" he called out, watching as the group of Han-Shu in question were making their way around one of the hangar-like buildings situated in the base's center, toward the western side. Lying in wait were several signals, and while Suzaku was confident they would be able to hold their own, overcoming Lelouch left no time to spare – they couldn't afford to be held down at any point.

Karen did as he ordered without so much as a word of response; not even an acknowledgment of any kind, just the confirmation of her signal moving as he directed. Shortly after the signals of the Federation Panzer-Hummels lying in wait were lost, and Karen wordlessly departed elsewhere. By all rights, her status as the Red Knight gave her free licence to do as she pleased on the battlefield unless Lelouch himself was in command, but she had the good sense to follow orders if it benefitted them, and for that Suzaku was grateful.

The fight continued and Suzaku continued to direct the troops as necessary, and for the most part it went without incident. Todo was needed to reinforce the Eighty-Ninth Squad when they were held up investigating the eastern hangar, pinned down by a bottlenecking group of Panzer-Hummel that made it their personal mission to keep the group of Akatsuki out of the hangar. Karen was needed on two additional occasions, once to aid the Eleventh Batallion of the Third Division's remnants when it was sorely outnumbered trying to follow orders with only three Han-Shu, and again when the same batallion was cornered by zealous squad of Panzer-Hummel that broke out of a second hangar in the northeastern corner.

Suzaku sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he gently urged the Lancelot across the ground toward the hangar on the western side, where Todo had suggested they gather their forces before dispatching sweep forces to ensure the Federation forces in the base had all been suppressed or had surrendered. The battle was not quite over, but Suzaku was pleased that they had so swiftly taken care of the situation. And they had done it without Lelouch's guidance, which was a major step that they had needed to make as an army.

Now Suzaku just had to see if they could afford to follow Lelouch at all. Was it still wise to do so? Were Lelouch's wishes still the same as their own? And what was he supposed to make of Lelouch's selfish impulses? There were so many questions he still needed answered, and Suzaku was dismayed to admit he was growing less and less sure of the world Lelouch would create. The world Lelouch would create was seeming more and more like one that would satisfy only himself.

o---o

It seemed that, despite their best efforts to the contrary, the higher powers of the world still wanted Lelouch to carry their will. Schneizel couldn't fathom why, of course, but he relented to that inevitability the moment he saw how easily Lelouch turned even a doomed situation against them. Granted he had left his army for dead, which Schneizel made sure to note for later consideration, but the fact was that he had turned defeat into victory in some manner.

"The fires at the hangar have spread! The fourth floor corridors are inacccessible!"

And to make matters worse, after such a bright lifetime, God's platform would finally fall. Avalon, known by those who chose to dig into the roots of the name's origin, as the sacred land where King Arthur's fabled Excalibur had been forged in times that may or not have been. The Historia Regum Britanniae detailed it also as being where he was taken following being mortally wounded in battle with his nephew, Mordred.

Ironic, wasn't it? Mordred, the traitorous and calculating thief of King Arthur's throne; Arthur, the wielder of justice who died delivering justice. True it was that in the reincarnation of this tale that was being made, Mordred – Lelouch – did not die, but King Arthur appeared to be going down with his sacred island. Schneizel smiled ruefully and tensed his muscles by grabbing onto the arms of his seat in the command center, bracing himself for the steady fall of the Avalon as it neared it's end bit by bit.

Granted, the brave man-with-his-ship act was a sentiment not many held, if only for the reason that it was immensely stupid when, with a little work, they could probably survive the ordeal of the Avalon's fall to the ground. Now this was complicated by the hulking and threatening presence of the Gawain, it's Hadron cannons still very poised to strike, and quite visible from the front windshield. Lelouch had made no effort to contact them thus far, and Schneizel doubted that talking to his half-brother was high on his list of priorities after having just avenged Nunnally.

That was another matter to be considered, even though it was hardly the time to do so extensively. How did Lelouch overcome Mao's ability to mind read? Had he surpassed the limits that even Mao thought he'd set? It seemed unlikely at first, but Schneizel knew just how little he truly knew of matters involving this 'Geass' and other such abnormalities. It could be very possible, for all he knew. And that was a scary thought to be acknowledged.

Lloyd had already prepared aircrafts for his escape and for Cecile's – it had been decided, for some odd reason, 'that science didn't need to die with the Avalon' and Schneizel, for an even more strange and inexplicable reason, had agreed. They had already made their escape by blowing a hole in the back of the hangar and having Cecile carefully pilot the plane through the awkwardly shaped hole it made, but now that the hangar was aflame such a performance could hardly be repeated. Not to mention it would take far too long to find a plane that was still operational after Lelouch's vicious assault on the linear catapult, and they hardly had time to spare.

"Your Highness, we found an escape route!" a soldier shouted as he rushed into the room, taking a passing moment to bring himself to salute before breaking it again. "The medical wing was breached during the last Hadron blast; if we can get the survival equipment from the remaining planes in the hangar, we should be able to escape!"

The growing sinister side of Schneizel, the one that saw this as a live to fight another day opportunity, promptly thought, That should make a nice diversion.

"Very well," Schneizel said as he stood, immediately grabbing onto the wall as a slash harken dug into the Avalon, dangerously close to the command center and with the added effect of making their descent that much faster. "All soldiers on hand, with me to the hangars. Everybody else, get to the medical wing and sit tight."

Schneizel walked out the door calmly with six soldiers walking close to him on either side and behind him, all holding rifles to their chests and trying their best to maintain blank faces despite their obvious fear of going down with the ship. It didn't help that the once safe haven had become a flaming mess, and that simply walking it's corridors could be dangerous.

Scratch that, Schneizel thought bitterly as he sidestepped a threatening piece of metal sticking out from the wall, definitely dangerous.

From then on, the soldiers took position in front of him as they continued to make their way to the elevator leading to the fourth floor, where on the east wing the hangar was waiting for them. The way was sure to be relatively safe, mainly because their route of choice was behind the command center and since it had yet to be hit, it could be safely presumed that this area too was safe.

The only problems to be found before they'd reached the fourth floor were several other cases of metal sticking out from the walls, probably collateral damage from the hard hit the east wing had taken when the linear catapult was destroyed. In an exaggerated effort to prove their loyalty the soldiers would tear out the metal and toss it aside, leaving the corridor safe for his own passage. It was highly unnecessary, but his soldiers knowing their place and what their duties were in practical situations was a good thing.

It just needed to be reminded that this wasn't a practical situation. They were made quite clear of this when, as they were getting on the elevator, a large beam of metal fell toward them from the gangways above. It clanged to the ground just as Schneizel got out of the way, but it was an unspoken thing that from then on, carrying out the insignificant duties of a soldier that would have been important otherwise was no longer necessary.

Things got truly hectic once they were off the elevator and on the fourth floor. True to what had been said, the corridors were glowing with various hues of red and orange from the fires slowly building throughout. Pieces of metal were strewn about without any rhyme or rhythm, and climbing over them was just an added annoyance to the annoyance of trying to resist the scalding heat of the flames all around them.

The heat bit and lashed out against him all the more fiercely the closer he got to the hangar. Sweat began to line his brow and he could feel it clinging his clothes to his body, reluctant to part with the last defense his flesh had against the biting and lashing of flames against it. His hair shone both from the firey hues and from his own sweat, likewise clinging to his head with a vice-like grip. The heat truly was unbearable.

A rush of heat unlike any they had felt before struck out at them as the door to the hangar hissed open, revealing a burning wasteland of scraps of metal, charred objects and half-standing planes. Some seemed operational, and Schneizel was quick to locate one that appeared to be functional. The soldiers filed into the room carefully, rifles held out and kicking aside anything in their paths. For them, this was a mission to secure items needed for a safe escape; for Schneizel, it was a mission to carefully make his escape, following Lloyd and Cecile toward the location they had decided upon earlier.

"Check over there," Schneizel firmly ordered, pointing far away from the plane he had designated. The troops all nodded and proceeded thither, blissfully unaware that they would be too late to stop their Lord from making his daring escape. He strode over the plane and through open the cockpit, climbing in and shutting it silently over his head. He began reading and flipping switches, periodically checking to see if the soldiers had noticed his seemingly inexplicable disappearance. Finally the plane began roaring to life, which brought the soldiers' attention to him, but they were too late as he flung the plane through the opening nearby, falling toward the sea until finally it properly came to life and took him high into the sky.

Behind him, the Gawain dug more and more of it's slash harkens into the Avalon, like a Kraken enveloping a ship at sea. The Avalon looked like little more than a fragmented mess of the proud vessel it had once been, and Schneizel winced sympathetically as it finally exploded, sending the Gawain hurtling away from it in a spin. Many proud men had just died, but they would be avenged, eventually. For now, Schneizel focused on getting himself to safety, where he could properly begin planning for the new tomorrow, when finally the world decided to discard Lelouch.

For now, he would hide. It was the only thing he could do.


So, this wasn't so bad, for a 2nd part that was hardly a 2nd part at all. We had some drawn out examples of people growing discontent with Lelouch, not that the hints haven't been there for a couple chapters now. There was a bit of odd hinting at a Guinevere/Odysseus pairing, but not really, and it was an amusing impulse and me getting swept up in writing that scene more than anything. At any rate, it was fun to hint at that a little bit, though it won't be going anywhere unless I have a strange impulse to bring it up again.

Not likely, though my disturbing like for the whole concept of forbidden love may give it another mention or two. We'll see.

And as we can see, the story finally has an ending in sight. Lelouch has had his pseudo-rags-to-riches tale of epic conquests, he has turned the world upside down and avenged (killed) his mother. What's left? Ah, yes: being brutally stabbed in the back. Will he actually be stabbed in the back? Am I hinting at this with all this talk of people being disillusioned with Lelouch for nothing? Well, keep reading to find out, if you really care. I won't actually tell you, but if you've actually been reading my A/Ns from the beginning and know me as a person even the slightest bit, you know what the answer is.

Really, only one satisfies the many of us who love Lelouch.

This chapter was mostly written while listening to TM Revolution (those of you who don't know who the great Takanori is, he did opening and insert themes for Gundam Seed, and much other amazing work that I won't bother to list – sadly, most people would remember the one I did mention first), which was an interesting change in tone from the usual theme I tend to take with this story. Specifically, I tend to listen to the darker sort of music that one would associate with Code Geass (Mosaic Kakera – Sunset Swish, anything Ali Project, and on account of two MADs, Doubt & Trust – Access and Empty 96 – UVERworld), so this chapter was a bit of a different feel for me. If you can tell the difference, don't hesitate to let me know if the moderate change in theme was a good thing or not; I think it suited this chapter, but to make it a lasting thing is something I'm not sure of.