Disclaimer: I own nothing of Code Geass, nor of Guilty Gear, nor to a lesser extent, BlazBlue and Rewrite. I do own this story, and all the inspirations along with it. And of course, the brain where the ideas came from.
A flash illuminated the dark room.
"Yowch!" A figure rolled to the ground, his whole body bathed in a luminescent green glow. Another figure, gaunt and taller than the first, stood to the side, turning on his feet to acknowledge the first one's expression of pain.
"Are you unharmed?" asked the second figure of the first, in a voice that was soft, light and feathery in quality.
The first one stood up, the glow having disappeared. "Whew...bit too much material on the outer runes... I'll be fine, master. Guess I'm not as skilled as you in the ways of the Boundary."
"It is always wise to acknowledge one's weaknesses... Do you feel that, my fellow arcanist?"
There was the sound of sniffing. "Wow, it's a strong one. Either the 'Haven for Elevens' is in deep shit, or it's one of Zero's. If it is him, then I guess he's really not gonna conveniently sit still for you, master. Shouldn't we be disciplining him now?"
"No, the warning to the little girl should have been enough. I repeat that that fledgling Gear will not be a threat to me and mine plans, unless he has acquired the ability to tap into the powers of the Backyard as well..." A bright pink flash illuminated the room now, and the two figures turned to acknowledge the new arrival, a figure of short, slight build.
"Ah, very good. I bid you well, my fellow. What have you discovered?"
A high-pitched, giggling voice, reminding any avid fan (were one present at the moment) of Big Stream Strummer Korali's overly sweetened, hypnotic one's, replied brightly, "It's as you predicted, master! The Elevens' Gaia has begun to work with Zero!"
"Fascinating... And what word from your man on the scene?"
"Haven't gotten around to contacting 'im yet, but I heard he's been assigned to aid Zero! If that's true, then Zero chose well! Even if he's not on the League, I know he was taught by the very best!"
"I guess this seals it," concluded the first figure, addressing the second. "We should take steps now, master."
"Perhaps it would be premature of us to do so, my fellow. After all, Zero does not know of me yet. Please continue to watch him. He could be more useful on the board."
"Very well then, master! I'm off to go watch!" the third one said with unabashed enthusiasm. It made a salute which looked comicalon its slender body. After another bright flash, it disappeared.
"Now, shall we continue designing the array, Mao? Put your ill feelings about young Zero aside. We've a monumental task at hand."
"...Of course, master. Only looking out for you, that's all."
"Thank you."
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Code Geass: The Corrupted
Noontide
The Conclusi- ERRORERRORERROR
Reboot in Progress...
Loading Primary Sequences...
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The concrete exploded.
The screeching sound of Landspinner against earth followed, filling the superheated air briefly with the unearthly wail, before another crash of a hammer sounded.
The Guren fell back, the flames rising to lick at its figure as it increased the distance between it and the Lancelot. It looked worn-down on many parts of its body. It backpedaled through literal walls of flames as high as its own body, trying to increase the distance even more. But its equally battered enemy didn't seem to want to give an inch.
"Get back here, Gear!"
The Lancelot leaped fearlessly through the flames, brandishing its lightning-wreathed fists. Whether or not the flames would affect the Devicer inside the Frame was irrelevant, as the crash of the hammer resounded, metal pounded against metal, and the impact threw back the Guren onto open, untouched field once more.
The flames seemed alive, like red, rabid, witnesses to their struggle. They waved their arms and uttered their cries, even as they ate away at their apportioned fares.
Lancelot emerged, spinning quickly through the air, and the Guren had just enough time to use its other arm to block it, before brandishing the claws in its right arm into a lance-shape and attempting a stab. The white Knightmare twisted and disengaged off to land a few feet away.
The red Frame did not waste time. Leveraging the energies inside it, it dove the monstrous arm into the earth, causing fresh spouts of flame to emerge in a line towards the Lancelot. As the enemy had on that moment still been standing on one leg, the full brunt of one gout crashed into it from below, leaving a burning Lancelot in its wake.
"Haah!" The seithr in the base, already in an upheaval from the environmental shield that leaked in copious amounts of the Zone's impurities in, literally crackled as the Knightmare shone in blue, and after a flash, extinguished the fire that it had caught. The Guren attempted to make a move, but a bolt of pure, lightning energy had erupted from the Lancelot, and so was unable to stop the attack from slamming into its body.
Reeling, the Guren went down on its knees, impaling its right arm into the ground to steady itself. Still suffering from the lightning that arced throughout its Frame, the Knightmare seemed to regard its enemy silently, paralyzed by the lingering effects of the attack.
"Hmph." The deep, burbling sound of the red Frame's Devicer seemed to aggravate the Lancelot.
"Why...why won't you fight me seriously?"
The cry echoed from the depths of the Lancelot. It was a sum of all it had experienced in the two minute struggle.
)()()()()()()()(
"The next and last phase is tactical retreat. Kallen has her own instructions on how to proceed and withdraw with the Guren, and I'm sure once again that she won't disappoint. Use the chaos to disappear into the crowd and through the underground channels detailed to each of your teams. An alternate scenario will come into play here – should the situation demand it, I shall appear in front of the world and announce myself. That should be an ample enough distraction..."
"This is group four, we are retreating with the information, Zero."
"Group six, reporting success, we are withdrawing."
"Well done." There were still a couple more groups that had yet to report in, but it was still a good two minutes before the apportioned deadline. Beyond that, and Lelouch would be forced to suspect many things had happened to the groups.
As his "family" were currently far away from him, he had and was still entertaining fears of them going rogue because he was unable to exert his silent influence. Worse than the thought of betrayal was the thought of berserking, a volatile development that he had no control over. It was a good thing that his trust was not unfounded, and the planner was pleased – so far.
But Lelouch knew that he couldn't always rely on his subordinate Gears like he didn't trust the Gaia members, even if they'd given him the Guren. There would have to better operatives for him to use, so the "family" would be spared the rebellious thoughts from seeing themselves doing gruntwork for a fellow Gear, and also so he wouldn't have to reach out to Gaia or any other organization for assistance. He needed soldiers, footmen, creatures who could think and act, yet did not need to entertain independent thought. Summoning perhaps? Gaia seemed to be an expert in that regard... He had a lot of research to do.
Now for the other matter... He reopened the channel to the Guren. "Kallen, what's your status?"
)()()()()()()()(
Now, Tamaki Shinichiro liked blood. It was all or nothing in the underground where he used to work, and though his secret Gear blood got him out off most of the serious scrapes, he still wore a few scars he couldn't show to even his bestest friends (and on that list was Lord Zero, who was the bestest friend a Gear like him could have). He didn't regret leaving that place, but he couln't regret not having been there, "stuck in" as it were, because it gave a hell of a lot of combat experience. So that was why he liked blood. How it was spilt, the way it was spilt, the blood-on-the-face that made for a good sight, or even the "meta" bullshit some of his new Gearmates sometimes came up with that involved blood that was hidden from the surface yet which could be clearly seen by those who knew all about blood (but he called bullshit on that, hadn't seen nor experienced it himself, but supposedly it was an old Japanese thing). He didn't crave it though, like a bloodsucking vampire, or wouldn't go batshit berseker at the sight of it like some werewolf – or worse, a berserk Gear. Were there Gears like that? Probably.
Seeing it upon exiting back to the outside alleyway where he expected just a single useless roob standing around all peaceful-like was a pleasant, if shocking surprise.
"Whoa," he whistled, his foot on the threshold of the door and his eyes zipping about, tracing the rapid movements of the fighters. "Cool." A stray bolt of something, he didn't know what, maybe magical, shot at his direction, in that moment, and after ducking his head under it, he blinked, saying, "Very cool" while struggling to hold back a grin.
First of all, it looked like the roob was actually good at fighting after all. As he stood and watched, together with the rest of group two who were standing suprised just as he, he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for the roob's movements. Naturally, he knew he would be better if he matched up against the guy, faster and stronger even, but you gotta give a man credit for his skill. The roob liked to use his fists a lot, it seemed, though flinging the trash around them like some improvised weapon seemed also to be its specialty.
Now, the enemy of that one was something weird. It was wearing white all-over with some weird-ass symbols on its chest and shoulders. His first thought was that it was some sort of robot, or one of those "construct" things Lord Zero always praised. But why was it attacking the roob? When it started using magic, he reconsidered, and when it started conjuring swords out of fricking nothing, he was convinced. Some sorta sorcerer? That would explain why those swords kept on appearing from its hand, while the ones that missed the roob many times just seemed to melt into thin air. Although, he took anything he thought even from himself with a grain of salt, after all, he knew nothing about magic stuff like that, like Ars Magus, of sorcerers. Hell, magic in general was a big can of wha-? for Shinichiro Tamaki.
Damnit, they couldn't keep watching like this. The two were turning the alleyway into a warzone. A loud warzone at that. The way the enemy was using its gun to fire off shots that he and the group had to dodge many times, or how there was trash everywhere from the roob kicking up the goddamned garbage every chance he got. He didn't have a watch on him (he always kept forgetting that) so there was a chance Lord Zero was waiting impatiently on their group for this very important mission.
"Hey shortstuff!" he hollered at first, and got a beer bottle crashing near his head for it, followed by a fast-moving sword that would have scalped him if he weren't Tamaki. "Shorstuff! You need help? We can totally trash the guy so we can escape! Lord Z's waiting!"
"Not one for subtleties, are you, whelp?" The roob did a flurry of punches at close range that battered the white enemy, causing it to stagger to the ground. Just as the roob attempted to grab it by the head, the white one had rebounded upward and kneed shortstuff in the belly. Or was it his jewels?
"What did you just call me?" He couldn't tell if the guy couldn't answer because he was busy retreating and not noticing the two guns aimed at his bleeding head or if he really couldn't speak from being kicked in the 'nads like that. "Hey you, that's our pal, and now that his pals are here, ain't it wiser for you to back off? Don't worry, we're not ordered to beat up anyone today."
"AdDiTiONal ThrRRReatsss DeTECted. End statement. S-S-switching to multi-target protocols. MAXimizing peRiPHeral visssion."Sounded like a damn robot, that one.
"I am not your pal..." The masked roob did a pretty good riposte against the enemy's sideward kick. A few stray shots were fired in the way of Tamaki and his group, but they were wild off the mark, giving the Gear the thrill of having literally dodged bullets. "- and I can handle myself fine, isn't it so, inquisitor? I'm afraid the loud one does have a point, though." He then watched the roob do a step back, and crouch before doing an upward sweeping motion with his arm. Tamaki's eyes buggered out their sockets when what looked like an upward wave of black something emerged from the ground to cover the enemy head-to-foot. A moment later, the enemy materialized a few feet away, still on its feet, as the roob rushed towards them. "Twas a good dance, inquisitor, and I learned a lot, but for now – toodles!" And with that, the roob made as if throwing something down on the ground, hard, and in the next moment, Tamaki and the group were covered in thick, black smoke.
When next he opened his eyes, Tamaki saw the world around him was colored just like one of those ancient teevee sets he was able to watch for kicks in some guy's house one time. Everything was in black and white, though the enemy, who was looking up and down the alley, was white as always. The roob began walking past the enemy, who didn't seem to see them and had conjured all its swords in midair at once, and gestured. "Come then, 'comrades'. While we're in 'this' realm, we have to move fast. The nearest Gaia accesspoint is two blocks from here. Hustle!"
"What kinda magic is this?" Tamaki asked. He and the others looked around at the bizarre sight suspiciously. They looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been bleached of all color.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Just be glad I didn't leave you for that guy to deal with. ... Fucking sonofabitch was a major pee ay tee ey." The masked roob rubbed his wrists.
The guy was bleeding half to death, or so it looked before the world went all bleached and shit. "Hey you need something for that...?"
"All part of the job," shortstuff replied. "Nothing you goons need to worry about. It's certainly not something I'd trust you to fix." They passed by several streets filled with marching armored Knights, and while Tamaki's lunch threatened to pass back up to his throat at the sight, the roob led them nonchalantly past the oblivious-seeming Guardians to another alleyway.
He pointed to a sewer grate. "Quick. It's about to break. Take what Zero wants and get out of here. There's a pretty obvious Gaia sign halfway down, don't be stupid and go all the way to the sewers. Happy crawling, Gears."
"What about you?" The world had, in that moment, returned to its previous, colored state. Tamaki had to recheck his hands to make sure all of its colors had come back. He wanted to check every part of his body at that moment, even. Well, at least he knew whom to blame if his dick was still bone-white through limp or stiff.
The roob turned away from them, ripping off the mask on its face. He slipped off the shredded black gloves that were matted with dry red spots. "I've got my own hiding spot." Drops of blood spattered on the floor, and Tamaki gave the sight of blood an appreciative glance before opening the sewer grate and hopping down. The others quickly followed. "This is Tamaki, Lord Zero, Group 2 is on our way!"
The inquisitor was puzzled, and not altogether pleased to have the hostiles escape without it being able to pursue. There was a concealment ars present here, and it was ashamed to realize that its senses hadn't been strong enough to sniff out the ones who'd disappeared. It just wasn't in its specialty.
It stowed away the Nox Nyctores in its hands, the guns disappearing and transforming into its disguised appearance. Unlike its blades which were merely transmuted disposable objects, the cursed pair of artifacts should never be far from its master, and required proximity to always function. Bolverk would sleep until it was needed once more in the fight against demonic Gaia servants like that one...
The organization's name brought a shiver up its spine. It reached out a hand to steady itself against a wall. It glanced at the door where the others had emerged from. Analysis incomplete: Investigation later.
The inquisitor surveyed the scene around it once more. No doubt the brief fight had alerted some brethren to this area, who would no doubt be doing a little investigating of their own from the looks of the chaos that had been left.
Current problem unresolved: objective incomplete.
Now, hurried footsteps came sounding from outside the alley, together a few frantic shouts of "Over here, sister!" The inquisitor straightened to full before its body blurred out of existence.
)()()()()()()()(
She was honest and had admitted it, many times, to both herself and to outsiders and to Zero: she couldn't fight for shit. It wasn't some sort of flaw coming from her being a "her", after all, just look at all the Sisters running around killing things like her in the Order. They were on the other side of the wall, sure, but they were also very much capable of busting balls, both human and abhuman, in their own way. Nor was it something to do with her so-called superior genes that named her one of the most wanted enemies of the world. Even though it was supposed to give them superhuman bodies and supposedly superhuman intellect, that still didn't stop the Guardians from handily killing a bunch of them, though they were berserk, year in and year out. In the messed up world where it was everything for itself when not protected by the Preserve, one learned to get physical. Failing that, one became a magical prodigy, like that Lamperouge, making all would-be predators wary of coming near. And boy was that Lamperouge, if he was who she thought he was, the best and luckiest in that regard. Now, she was neither of those things: one, having never devoted herself to the physical like some wannabe Knight like Kururugi, and two, she didn't have patience, though the Prez said she had the aptitude,for Ars Magus.
Growing up, she never took up on the crash courses in all sorts of martial arts the Order sometimes put up, something they established to ferret out promising newcomers to their ranks. She did generally okay on the magical tests they gave kids in early education (she remembered the condescending look that tester gave her when she only managed a large ember where a small fireball was requested). A major reason to the middling she experienced right up to attending Ashford and becoming some form of lesser-Kururugi savant in Knightmare syncing was because of her little problem.
The fear. The fear drove her on and on, her always imagining it like the caricature of robed and scythed Death watching over her shoulder, making her resent the legacy her mixed blood had given her. She'd always watch her every action, careful not to accidentally bash the door in, crush a classmate's hand accidentally or accidentally knock back would-be boyfriends asking if she was free that evening fifty meters away with the back of her hand. Not that the heritage of Ki did her any favors too, something which Kururugi, currently her unofficial sparring partner in the conflagration, flaunted without abandon.
She suspected her young self knew all about the fear, even if it was probably a vague thing to be aware about. She could swear her youth had been spent unconsciously trying to alleviate her sensation of it by denying herself, by putting limits on whatever activity she had done. Do fifty cartwheels, she'd do twenty. Make a teeny, tiny fireball darling, and remember the ABCs of holding on to the seithr around you, and snap, crackle and pop, tiny embers are eating up the woman's dress.
Maybe that was also why she was discovered and hounded by Ohgi's group so easily at the start like that. And maybe that was why she was lured in by the prospect of losing the fear so easily.
Now the spectre of fear had returned, but this time it was a different-faced fellow. Or perhaps it was the same, good ol' cartoony death tossing the robe for shirt-and-jeans and the scythe for a bazooka that put the big wham in things. Because this fear was different. It wasn't the fear of being discovered that she was a Gear, it was the fear of becoming too much a Gear.
Because being a Gear seemed to grant benefits, benefits which she hadn't considered until only after she signed up with Alan Spacer/Lamperouge (?)/"Lord" Zero.
Like the ability to know absolutely frigging nothing about fighting, yet still put up a damn good fight. Even if most of the time she was just running around flailing her arms and delivering the occasional ars. So what would happen if she were more trained, if she were better skilled?
Kururugi had yelled something when she'd sighted his Knightmare from afar. She didn't hear it, obviously, since she was partly still waiting for Zero to explain the orders "I want you to rough up my best friend, and I want it to look good." When the Lancelot, glowing that blue glow she knew him for, rushed at her, she hadn't backed up, or dodged, or anything else at first. She'd leaped at him and turned wildly in the air, until they landed on exchanged initial places in the field. Somehow, while spinning in the air, she'd also been able to deflect that guy's kick with her arm. Wow.
"I remember you," she said to him, and she purposedly made her voice low and growly like a dog had been talking to mask it, though she was sure Zero had remarked that he had modified the voice channel to mask any family member's voice details. "We met at the beginning of it all, Knight. I admit, I was kinda impressed by the way you found out the Master like that. You were like some kinda comic hero turning up to save the day. Sorry I had to be so rough on you back then," What was she saying? She felt like she was adding on a new personality on top of masking her voice. "And now, you're first at the scene too. Wow. I think you're going to be a pain in the ass in the future."
"By the sovereign authority of the Guardians," he replied, "identify and surrender yourself!"
The words might have worried her, chilled her, maybe made her laugh if the voice had been any less firmer or had lesser conviction or reputation behind it. But this was Suzaku. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel about this guy who was a companion in the council, and who was good enough to be made the youngest living Knight in the Order.
And so she shot back, "You're in the way, Knight. Back down."
And the conversation continued, but this time with him firing off one of his Frame's harkens. She remembered the technique Prez had mentioned, about harken "kissing" being one of the hardest skills to master. She was surprised her own first attempt had worked, her own clamp-shaped harken colliding with the Lancelot's golden arrowhead.
Now the Lancelot was bluer than before. While his harken wasn't even done returning to its place, he had charged, quick as ever, ramming into her with fists swinging. Well, he looked quick, but she was easily able to use her right arm to push him back. Though she couldn't block the farewell kick to her midsection.
"Urk!" Milly could lecture all she want in the remedial sessions about the wondrous advances in Knightmare interfacing technology that assured Devicers virtually no pain from outside stimuli save for the extreme cases of chopped-off limbs and/or being skewered by magisword or artillery shell, but that guy's kick hurt. Then again, she was able to recover quickly, flinging a wad of flame at him. Now, that might've actually hurt, tough luck for the guy. Well, maybe not. The Lancelot had flung a burning piece of debris at her.
The vibrating made her teeth chatter, and when it was followed up by the Lancelot again attempting another close-range charge, she was distracted enough to allow Kururugi to push her several hundred meters, through lines of tall flames and almost straight into a wall had it not been for her quick reversal, clamping her claws on the Lancelot's left Factsphere and pushing the Frame back.
She quickly added her energy into the arm, which funneled out and materialized into a swirling stream of fresh fire that forced the Lancelot even more backward, widening the gap between the two. She guessed the attack would've been hot enough to roast a shipment of fish in seconds. When she let the flames subside, she sensed the guy start to charge up his own attack, which triggered the decision to escape or clash, but in the end she hastily charged up her own, resummoning her own energy, her mind calling back a memory of the feeling of the guy's energy when she was still a slave under Zero, protecting him unwittingly from the Lancelot.
It was a tactical feint; fool the enemy into an ars exchange, before delivering a sideways harken maneuver that was guaranteed to send the enemy Knightmare reeling. All Knightmare devicers - well, all Knightmare devicers who took up advanced combat courses, of which he'd given up a summer session to take up, to Lelouch's chagrin - called it a legal attack, and the enemy would be a fool for letting it happen to them.
That red Gear masquerading in the metal armor of a Knightmare fell back alright, and he was just about to deliver a withering bolt of lightning through its midsection when it recovered mid-fall, and took a swipe with its clawed hand which he had no choice but to dodge by rolling back.
I don't get it, Suzaku thought, a knot of frustration building up inside him, deep within the Lancelot. He was supposed to be faster, even if he had no real arms on him other than his harkens and his enhanced, near-infinite fount of ars magus to call upon. He should be logically faster than even a Gear in full-berserk. He could take down class-A gears no problem in the Lancelot.
Was it because of the Knightmare? Did it enhance the user somewhat? He infused a little bit more of his energy into his harken. Keep going, he told himself. Although his insides burned with the fires of justice, his sensei's voice kept him focused, kept his consciousness centered. He would kill this Gear without succumbing to base rage. He'd deal justice coldly and swiftly. He launched one of his harkens, gleaming with lightning energy. The other he shot at the concrete below, to act as a ground.
There. The thing attempted the same technique, "The Harken Kiss". In that split-second collision, he triggered the lightning energy attached to it-
What? The sight and sound like a gunshot followed, and his harken limped to the ground before it was quickly rewound back. When the smoke cleared, he saw the thing with its claw outstretched forward. "Damn!"
Not losing an idle second, he channeled the lightning into the Lancelot's limbs this time. It was a risky maneuver, with the risk of all four of his limbs being blown off in a fit of accidental discharge. "Reckless!" Lelouch would say. The Lancelot smashed its fists together. The Landspinners screeched as he charged forward on lightning-charged feet.
It was a well-known fact, even among non-Guardians, that Gears had almost no organized martial capability. They relied on superior bodies to weather physical assaults, and a font of endless magical potential to resist magical attacks as well as deal it in turn. Pit them against a skilled warrior with matched speed and magical resistance, like some veterans (like his sensei), and they were handily beaten through the use of sheer martial prowess.
It's probably why Ki-users are much sought after, Lelouch had remarked one tutoring session.
He launched into a series of advanced strikes with his fists, using the Landspinners to quickly maneuver the Lancelot around, through, over and under the Gear's counter-attack. All the while, he rained blows with his fists on the Gear's body, each blow leaving a lightning-energized dent.
Still, the thing was fast. It was always yet faster, its claw, the one thing he was watching for split-seconds before each punch, still scoring a hit after every second on the Lancelot. He switched from fast to slower, more charged attacks to hopefully unbalance the Gear enough, but he only was able to give it more time to counter wit its own claw. All the while, the Gear had hardly moved more than a hundred yards, and it spent the entire time merely defending. It was as if it was waiting on him to attack more. As if his current attacks weren't enough. As if he weren't enough.
He clucked his tongue, intensifying his attacks. Maybe it was just a flaw in the Lancelot's base design, it requiring most of Lloyd's packs to truly succeed in combat against Gears. He'd bet if he had a sword from the Slash pack or a Longcannon from the Blast Pack he'd left back there outside the conflagration that he would've been able to win handily.
Suzaku saw a fireball about to form from the palm of the thing's claw. Risking the contact, he punched the claw, and the two hands clasped in a twisted parody of a lover's grasp. Following the enemy's example, he tensed, turned most of his energy to the hand, even ceasing his punching assault as he matched the thing's other hand with his own. The Gear seemed to notice and began charging too, but he would win by sheer speed.
But again, in one of the split-seconds, the red one's harken fired (How could he forget that?) and only through quickly disengaging his hand to intercept was he able to stop it from smashing into his mid-section. Concrete exploded as the Landspinners fought to combat the momentum from the harken. With the retreat came the unclasping, undoubtedly something the Gear had been hoping for. Enraged, Suzaku crushed the harken with his hand, deforming it, before firing a blast of his pent-up lightning with his other, catching the Gear mid-cast, striking it through its chest and knocking it back a few hundred yards through a red veil of fire.
"Get back here, Gear!"
The Lancelot leaped fearlessly through the flames, brandishing its lightning-wreathed fists...
)()()()()()()()(
"The penultimate phase has ended. Technically, the mission was supposed to end by this time...if not for Kallen and Suz- Knight Kururugi."
The Command Gear eyed the status screens dispassionately, his square glasses perched on the bridge of his nose in preparation for the return trip to Ashford. In his hands was a datapad where the only pertinent information, the information which incidentally came into his hands last courtesy of Tamaki, and of which he was still of a hesitant mindset to read. It was not an exaggeration to know that Lelouch Lamperouge hesitated to open up what was to him a trove of Pandora's.
C.C lay on the bed of the safehouse, having ostensibly slipped in through mysterious means past all his best defenses. Her long, green hair was splayed out over one the bed like a large, moldy pizza slice which shook periodically, as she perused in her turn one of the other datapads the groups had brought Lelouch.
"The minutes of the 'Prismatique Fanatique Club' meetings from the year 2210," the woman read aloud, sliding past information on the pad using the dainty tips of her fingers. "Why, it's just as it claims to be, Little Gear!" She threw the datapad back into the ungainly pile at the foot of the bed, forgotten by both Gears after they were done with them. "They're all junk. Secret things, true, but still little more than refuse from where you're standing. Why did you go all the way to have your lackeys retrieve these? I mean, who gives two damns what the... what was it? What the editors of 'Commentatorial Conclave Weekly' really think about current international politics? Or who won which magical girl contest in whichever country? Or-"
"Yes, yes, thank you for the illumination, witch," Lelouch responded, his eye still on the status screen. They shook as if from an unseeable breeze, which the Command Gear steadied with one of his hands. He could still smell the fresh residue of teleportation ars on his hand as he pressed several keys on the interface. "Did you really think I was that stupid?"
"Let's hear it with your explanation then - as to why you expended a lot of time and arms on these." Her eyes turned to the datapad in his hands and they lit up and dimmed back in the space of a millisecond. "Or was it all smoke and mirrors, then? All for the sake of-"
He held up the datapad, pointing to it like it was a sacred text. "This, C.C, is the collection of information on Gear modification that was in the Guardian's old archives. Somehow, it found its way among other junk files in a little terminal tucked inside an out-of-the-way shop which strangely hadn't been evicted from the Guardian edict in spite of its two-year inactive status, where it slept for the better part of ten years until this day." His voice rose. "The information isn't up to date, I grant. The live information Guardian has is decidedly more advanced than what this datapad has to offer, but it's not too far off from what I-" his voice faltered, and he bit his lip and looked away. "-from what I... I'm looking for."
"Your fears," stated C.C, rising from her prone position, "are justified, but there is nothing you can gain, Lelouch, from pursuing this train of thought further than it needs to be. You'll only be hurt by the revelation that waits for you, I somehow know you will, little Gear, and I don't want to see you break down because of what a piece of digital text tells you."
"And if looking away means another two years of blindness?" thundered Lelouch, breathing hard in great spurts. "If it makes me blind to what I- to what Nunnally may have gone through, to what many people, children have gone through because of someone else's-" The hand holding the datapad trembled, seemingly almost at the point of snapping it in two. "No. I seek the truth, as you said. As I promised you."
C.C opened her mouth to reply, but a thought seemed to occur to her and she ate her next words, eyeing Lelouch with pensive pity. The transient breeze from outside shifted the hair over her shoulder cagily, like a hesitant lover's touch. There was a shifting of clothes, and Lelouch had changed from his black suit to the Ashford uniform.
"Are you going to head back to your human place now? What of the girl?" asked C.C.
There was a sound like that of a loud gulp as a small shroud of darkness the same size as his hand enveloped the datapad. Lelouch then glanced at C.C and nodded silently to the query as he tapped his feet impatiently.
"They've fought long enough. Suzaku is putting up a very good fight, and I can't fault Kallen for not being able to send the message adequately. It seems I will have to speak to him about the matter personally later. But for now..." A crunch of bone, a pull over the fabric of reality, and the sound of water oozing later and Lelouch had given way for Zero, in his familiar form of the winged shadow.
"Please don't forget to destroy all the evidence of this place."
"Not your cleaning lady, little Gear. Even if I do give off the impression of having to babysit you all the time." C.C laid back on the bed as the rush of turbulent seithr from the Zone that was right outside the hideout flooded into the small room, the gale turning her hair into an upright bush.
Zero made a sound that seemed like a snort before it headed out the door, and with its closing, the torrent of contaminated air ended. C.C watched the larger, solidified molecules of seithr float still in the air like sawdust. She stuck out her tongue when one descended to her face with the slowness of dripping dew. The brown speck of dust sizzled as it came into contact with her tongue, and the woman's face twisted from that awfully bitter taste.
"Many years later and I still fall for that trick." Annoyed, the green-haired woman fetched the datapad she'd read last. Giving the thickened seithr trapped in the small room a whirl, the pad caught fire instantly, and a moment later, was obliterated into so many fine particles. C.C watched her empty hand for a few moments before pointing her finger at the roof and repeating the same, albeit bigger Ars.
)()()()()()()()(
"Why...why won't you fight me seriously?"
By all accounts, the red one seemed to be beaten. Lightning continued to torment its body. Its sole harken line lay tattered, the clamp-shaped device at its end melted and deformed. A clear, round dent could be seen on the Knightmare's front, blackened by spent lightning. It kneeled on the ground in the picture of the exhausted, beaten warrior.
But the one who truly felt the spectre of defeat – was the white-blue warrior.
A ringing silence followed. Slowly, the Lancelot's blue glow dimmed, its energies left to flounder as its heart lost its fire. On the other side, the Guren kept its unseen eyes on the enemy silently, as if patiently waiting for some command.
"Prepare for justice, Gear," Suzaku said quietly.
"... You fight good, Knight. You're an asset to your race. Maybe we can spar again, in another battlefield," the red one replied after a long moment of stillness, as the Lancelot was moving forward to deliver the finishing blow.
The Lancelot paused, its Devicer puzzled. "- what? No- you'll be facing justice now, Gear. There will be no other battlefiel-"
"What you're seeing just now is me collecting myself. It doesn't mean I'm beaten yet, it just means you got round one. Hell, there's still a whole lot of rounds to come!" The Guren strarted to rise, though it was still hampered by the lightning on its body. The Lancelot hesitated, before falling into a ready stance.
"Get yourself ready, Knight, 'cause-"
"That is enough, Flame. Your wounds are many. I will not have you throw yourself needlessly into this endeavor." The battlefield of flame literally shifted appearance as the flame raced to part way on one side of it. At the center of it was a black shadow, the black not of soot but of a hidden, watching menace that held back a mighty malice.
"Zero..." Suzaku uttered in a low growl. The Guren was forgotten; the Lancelot turned, the very energies surrounding it crackling upward to a manic pitch.
"Good greetings, young Knight. I suspect a reckoning is in order for you and your passionate determination. Perhaps you may yet achieve that; perhaps not. What is important for you right now is to stand down. You are, in your present state, currently outmatched. Come, Flame. Let us depart."
"Not before your justice, Zero!" Suzaku shouted for all the flames to hear.
"If it is the world's justice, I have no need for it. If it is the Order's justice, I laugh at it. If it is your justice, on the other hand..." Zero put one of its clawed appendages up where its chin would've been, as if thinking. "No. Not today. You are still too young. Weak."
Suzaku's next answer was a rapid charge, so lightning-quick the Lancelot became a blur as it bore down within the space of a second on the black Gear's form. But Zero did not make a move, and Suzaku belatedly realized the thing had been nothing more than an illusion, as he was quickly alerted to a dozen Zero readings on the radar display. Nevertheless, he crashed spectacularly onto the empty concrete, dematerializing the illusion with a twisted satisfaction. "I am NOT weak! Not weak! Not cowardly, not powerless! Not weak, Zero!"
There were many Zeroes when it looked around, but one of them seemed to be real. This one stood near the fallen Guren, placing its claws on the red one's hide.
"Zero, you coward!" And filled with his righteous fury, he lashed out again with a stray, unfocused bolt of lightning. The Zero over there again made no attempt at dodging or otherwise proving it wasn't an illusion; but the attack nevertheless only sailed past its face, dangerously close for a stray spark to reach out and touch the Gear's cyclopean features. His attack sailed past the two, fizzling out into the flames.
"A millimeter more and you'd be dead."
"It is fortunate then, that you had neither the skill nor the experience to make it count, to adjust the attack better. That millimeter is the difference between you, a human, and myself, a fully-realized Gear. Good day, Kururugi."After uttering the words of scorn, the shadows themselves erupted from the ground to cover Zero and the red one.
"Wait!"
But before Lancelot could cross the few yards over to where the two were, the latter had disappeared, melting into the mass of pure shadow. A moment later, and even the shadows themselves disappeared, leaving the white-blue one the lone remaining warrior in the burning field.
Suzaku stared at the spot where Zero had just been. The Gear had been within his grasp for the third time, and he had again failed to dispense his duty. He remembered his vow ("DAMN THE VOW!"), he remembered his sensei, he remembered his friends. Never in his years of combating renegade Gears had he felt so helpless, the honey-sweet promise of justice so tantalizingly out of his reach. His body seemed to echo his rage, as the Lancelot built up its last surge of blue energy, before erupting it upward into a jagged blue spike that would be seen by the many Guardians who were hurrying to reinforce the white-blue warrior.
"Damnit!"
)()()()()()()()(
Code Geass: The Corrupted
Noontide
End
AN: I've been occupied with a new eroge (euphemized as visual novel) I just received in the mail this week, so updates may be a bit sporadic for a while.
Also, my friend urged me, as a further tribute to B., to do this omake bit. There's actually some spoilers here to future developments. Or are there?
Code Geass: The Corrupted
Story Mode Guide
Difficulty: Five/Ten Stars
Rounds: 2
Instant Kill Mode: On
(Story Mode)
(picks Black Dandy/?)
Battle 1 (VS Immaculate/?)
Stage: Area Eleven - Backalley Brawl
Special Condition: Half tension bar rate, 25% handicap, no rewrite dial
Lose: Game Over
Win: To Gaia Servitor route
Win by Instant Kill: To Gentleman Assassin route
Time Out (W/L): To The Corrupted route
(picks Immaculate/?)
Battle 1 (VS Black Dandy/?)
Stage: Area Eleven - Backalley Brawl
Special Condition: Half tension bar rate, 25% handicap, no alchemical armaments
Lose: Game Over
Win: To Guardian Servitor route
Win by Instant Kill: To Merciless Inquisition route
Time Out (W/L): To The Corrupted route
(picks Guardian Knight/Kururugi Suzaku)
Battle 1 (VS Flame/Kouzuki Kallen)
Stage: The Dead Zones - Kallen's Conflagration
Special Condition: 75% handicap, lightning magatama disabled
Lose: Game Over
Win: To The World's Hero route
Time Out (W/L): To The Corrupted route
(picks Flame/Kouzuki Kallen)
Stage: The Dead Zones - Kallen's Conflagration
Special Condition: 75% handicap, HEAT gauge has 5x modifier
Lose: Game Over
Win: To The Flame Ascendant route
Time Out (W/L): To The Corrupted Route
As an addition, I won the silent bet. None of my friends who got first read, nor any of the online readers have chimed in on several other crossover elements, though minor they can be, throughout the chapters. (I made special care to make them quite obvious too... boohoo)
Ah well.
But yes, they are canonical in so far as they affect this story. But I restate that this story will be primarily about the universes I quote up there in the disclaimer. Until that disclaimer changes, those are the only things from whose elements will be relevant to this story.
Thanks for reading!
Merlin Out.