Disclaimer: I own nothing of Code Geass, nor of Guilty Gear, nor to a lesser extent, BlazBlue. I do own this story, and all the inspirations along with it. And of course, the brain where the ideas came from.

June 30, 2212

Area Eleven, or the Eleventh Sacred Preserve of Humanity

Ashford Academy

Male Dormitories

Room 221B

Lelouch was the picture of indolence, his body sprawled out over his bed, leaning on his side of the wall, with his right hand holding open a book, his left a half-eaten apple. Square eyeglasses were perched haphazardly before his eyes as they watched the images on the television flicker to and fro.

Presently, he took another munch. Then another. He looked at the exposed core almost languidly, before tossing them onto the bin near Suzaku's side of the room. It missed.

He didn't look up when the door opened, letting the smells and sounds of the corridor outside waft in before they were again muted, nor did he open his mouth to greet his roommate when he sensed his presence. As it was, Suzaku initiated the exchange for him.

"Good evening, Lelouch," the aspirant greeted, unbuttoning the front of his uniform.

"Good evening," replied Lelouch almost laconically, reaching over to wipe his hand with a tissue on a nightstand, his gaze still fixed on the screen. His friend stared at him thoughtfully before he threw his upper coat on the hooks. It didn't miss.

Lelouch snorted, putting the book aside and sitting up, finally looking Suzaku in the eye. "So how is our Academy's poster boy, 'the grand successor of Thunder' who unfortunately has only this lowly man to speak to him during the night? I am overwhelmed good sir, truly. As if I were standing in the way of a god himself-"

"Stop it, Lelouch," Suzaku protested, throwing open his mini-closet to search for his pajamas. "You know as well as I do that I've only a gift for one of the elements-"

"A very powerful aptitude for that branch of magic, more than a mere gift-"

"Well, if you'll still go on about that, then you're one to talk, oh 'Prince of the Shadowfrost'... Nunnally must be so proud... Did the teachers seriously not recommend you to the Empire yet?" Suzaku rejoined. "A potent adept of two difficult magics. Hmm, didn't they say these were two rare magics? You'll do the Empire proud."

"Ah, but I must humbly protest, good sir." Lelouch continued with a grin, standing up to retrieve a book from the shelf, replacing the one on hand. "For who else in the history of the Academy has had the good virtue of having three Gears under his belt? The way you protected those citizens in the Downtown with such ferocity, fitting for a great warrior-aspirant, such power..."

"You would know as well as I, Lelouch," responded Suzaku, grinning in his turn as he adjusted the bath apparatus in his hand, "You were there fighting with me after all." He dropped the expression as he glanced at the screen. "Are you still concerned?" he asked.

Lelouch sighed, and looked back at the screen. "The attack did occur close to the Institute, after all," he remarked, clenching a fist. "Can't take too many chances."

A pause. "I'm sure she'll be fine, the Ashfords have got the best Knightmares defending their schools after all," said Suzaku.

"But you know full well that when it comes to Gears, nothing is clear-cut." Lelouch gestured to the book on his hand, which Suzaku saw was an actual low-level grimoire. Suzaku raised and eyebrow before shaking his head and reopening the door. "Yes, I know. I really do," he agreed sadly. Then, as if remembering something, he dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved a multi-colored pile of letters.

Lelouch, catching the scent, quirked an eyebrow at the other youth, adjusting his glasses to peer curiously at the letters. Suzaku couldn't resist a lift in his mouth, letting the letters flutter to the ground like petals. "'Prince of Shadowfrost', your admirers await your call." He escaped through the door, quick as lightning, shutting it close as crystalline icicles erupted from the place where he once stood.

Moments after, Lelouch slumped back on his bed, rubbing his hands together after dispelling that bout of ars, idly noting that one of the ruined letters bore the name of his friend. He shook his head wryly before returning his attention to the screen.

He had read the news that interested him off the daily newspaper that was usually brought to the clubroom earlier in the morning, right in the middle of Milly Ashford's vigorous proclamation of "budget cuts" and Nina Einstein's report on the indiscretions of the library club with its blatant misuse of remedial grimoires. On the paper had read: "Gear Outburst near Ashford Institute: Cause for Concern?" and Lelouch had spent that recess sitting and brooding, much like the Ice Prince he was said to be, much to the chagrin of the other members of the student council.

Gears. The word brought a strange taste to his lips. They were not as rare as their teachers had them believe; there was a saying that for every ten Britannians in the mainland there was one Gear, fit and ready for service. Usually they were docile creatures, known for their ready attunement to magic, and ars in general, and combining that with their almost robotic devotion to tasks set for them and one had the most efficient workforce in the world. But there came times when one would snap: unleashing the full brunt of their physical and magical might on any that stood haplessly nearby. The worst case in recent memory happened at the Russian Thermonuclear Plant near New Chernobyl: the magical backlash left the land devoid of even microscopic life, even to this day.

Their inherent volatility would've been of no concern to Lelouch, if it were not for the fact that virtually all Britannians who'd chosen to live and work in Area Eleven inevitably brought their own Gears with them. Larger, nobler families had more than one. The Gear that had killed ten and wounded fifty near where Nunnally schooled had belonged to the Ashfords. There was a major cause for concern there, even if the Family's Knightmares were capable enough to contain them quickly.

And damnit, but Nunnally was everything to him! If something happened to his only family in the world, he didn't know what he would do. The Lamperouge name was virtually a ghost, with no other in the Empire to claim it. Should a strange Gear shatter his peace, then there'd be another addition to the long line of applicants to many organizations seeking to eradicate the loathsome creatures. He'd probably be right behind Suzaku.

"Lelouch, if you could... you're really bringing the whole dorm down..." The youth stirred, blinking in surprise as he realized that he had subconsciously crafted an entire formation of crystal-clear ice right in the middle of the room. He looked at Suzaku, whose freshly bathed frame stood in the doorway, with all the other dorm-mates looking on and gawking at the display of ars. He hadn't truly noticed.

Shaking his head, he dispelled the formation: the ice, having lost its animation, collapsed to a messy heap. Suzaku bowed and apologized to the rest of the boys, before shutting the door behind him.

"Are you really that worried, Lelouch?" Suzaku asked, with concern in his own voice. "We could ask Milly to request Nunnally to be relocated here. "

"No," replied Lelouch with a sigh. He stood to return the grimoire into the shelf. "I don't want to inconvenience her. And besides, you know she's just going to slap my head and call me an incorrigible worrywart."

"Well, you are." Suzaku, in his pajamas, transferred the channel over to a local Japanese-flavor music one. "As I remember you telling that Gear, 'Time for you to cool down'." The soothing music from a flute started to fill the room.

Lelouch shrugged and began wiping his glasses. Amethyst pupils regarded his Japanese (and only friend, in the truest sense) as he busied himself retrieving books, papers and grimoires from his own shelf.

"Well, I know the only way to solve the world's Gear problems is if enough of us become heroes to protect the whole world. And it always-"

"'has to start within us' Geez, you really are suited for knighthood in the Order. As if your freakish strength or affinity with the famous element wasn't just enough." Suzaku gave his friend a look, before snapping a pen open to begin writing on a piece of paper. "Funny you should mention my strength, I've been meaning to write for the survey thing on the naturals of Area Eleven. Would you mind helping me, Mr. Genius?"

"Oh, where do we begin?" Lelouch lounged back on his bed, and propped his head on his hand, mock-imitating an instructor of theirs. "Let us start with an anecdote. Picture your average, Japanese man. Most of the time, they're as average as one can be. But sometimes, as a quirk of their endangered race, they may exhibit strange abilities. Suddenly, that average Japanese man can lift two-ton weights as if they were hay, or run through a stream of gunfire without getting hit, or catch a bullet with their bare hands. Frightening capabilities, but that is the fact. Your average Japanese man has just become a fearsome human."

Mostly ignoring Lelouch, Suzaku looked down at his paper and said, "I was just going to jump straight to the point. I got an outline that mentions 'History of Ki', 'The Power of Ki', 'Ki and the East,' 'Modern Reactions'...hmm, I feel like there's something missing here."

There was a brief silence. Lelouch let out a small chuckle, before replying, "Well, I did read the flyer, and they only specified 'personal experience as a Ki user'. Nothing about history or a description of it. Most appropriate thing would be to write about how you scaled four stories with a single jump to save that girl, or when you were literally able to walk on water that one time at the resort."

"Seriously?" Suzaku asked, rubbing his head. "I just figured...you know, because they were curious and all, I could be as informative-"

"Suzaku," Lelouch interjected, rubbing his hands together. "You don't have to make it as whole and perfect as possible. Just... do what's asked. They want your experience with Ki, write about it. Not everything demands perfection."

Suzaku frowned at his roommate, lost in thought. He tapped his pen repeatedly on the low table, a repeating rhythm that brought a dull resonance to the other boy. Then he relaxed, murmured a thanks and began to write on the paper. Half an hour later, and he showed off his finished work to Lelouch, who didn't take the proffered paper and instead squinted at it.

"Not totally bad, well... what I mean to say is, not bad. Just right – for you. Ouch!" Lelouch shook as the after-effects of some-hundred volts of electricity shot through his body. He watched Suzaku insert the paper into a book, before slipping it back onto the shelf.

"'Night, Lelouch."

"The same to you. You're not going out?" He asked his friend, noting how he was already in his pajamas.

"Nah, the instructor told me to refrain from strenuous activity this week." Lelouch ah-ed, remembering that test runs with Knightmares necessitated the fact, being that it made it hard to synchronize if your muscles didn't fit into the armor. Of course, Lelouch being Lelouch, he had no difficulties in that regard – though he was an average with Knightmare synchronization at best unlike the poster boy doing mild sit-ups on the other bed.

)()()()()()()()(

"Speaking of Knightmares, how's my little baby doing?" The Earl Asplund's flamboyant face boomed out his rambunctious greetings on the wide screen above, causing most of the crew to flinch at the volume of his voice. A lone tech, perhaps their representative, went up while holding a datapad, inputting some numbers on the interface.

"Hmm...hmm...Ah! Oh my, this looks promising..." remarked the Earl as he looked down on the screen, apparently viewing the latest data being sent to him by the representative. After a loud whoop, Lloyd Asplund grinned, a toothy, white grin that had many in the crew averting their faces. "Simply marvelous! As expected of the Ashfords, you sure don't screw around with quality!

"Now... On behalf of the Empire, we'd like to thank you for your hard work – six months was it? - on this sector of the program. Emperor knows how long we've been needing a prototype since the Sutherlands... not that I've anything against the Ashfords of course!" There was a beep, and the tech, surprised, looked at the flashing red button on the interface below her. A moment later, alarm klaxons sounded throughout the small hangar, and each of the crew were looking in confusion around them.

"Mm? What's going on in there?" Suddenly, there was the sound of a loud crash, of something ripping metal, followed by many screams. The techs were frozen in shock before one of them stood up from his seat to run for the nearest door. "Gear! Run for it!" His yell was followed by more screams and the scrambling of many seats as the crew stumbled to escape for their very lives. The cacophony was answered by an angry roar, not unlike a lion yelling into a megaphone.

The representative blubbered an apology to the Earl, who replied, his face astounded, "Wait, before you go, don't forget to upload the alphas and the betas! Don't forget that! We can still salvage them from- oh dear, now that's a bloodbath, oh no, I did not have to see that-" his communication was cut off by a chair thrown right at the screen, shattering it into silent pieces.

"A Gear outbreak in the middle of the Preserve? Most troubling..." On the other side of the communique, Lloyd sank back into his chair, looking gloomily at the small summary of data that had been sent to him. After a moment, his face lit up with optimism as he remarked, "I'm sure they can still salvage it...that data is important after all, a shame about the Gear, though..." Sighing dramatically, he stood, hand hovering over a tray of sandwiches on the nearby table, before he remembered himself and left.