Code Geass: Enduring Retribution

Key:

" " - Regular Speech

' ' - Unheard Thoughts

" " - Emphasis / Radio Communication

" " - Amplified Speech / External Speakers / Public Address System (PA System)

Disclaimer - Code Geass is owned by Sunrise Inc.

Chapter V: Alive But Alone

Throughout his many years of existence, Charles zi Britannia, 98th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, had come to experience many things, ranging anywhere from the mundane rumors of the daily court, to the more rare, and ultimately unsuccessful, attempts upon his person. But of all of the ordeals he had gone through in the last fifty years of his life, none had come mark him more than those dreadful times of facing an angered Marianne, an occurrence that was, unfortunately, and at this moment, happening right before his very eyes.

"WHERE IS HE CHARLES!" The 5th Consort bellowed, pure venom dripping from her words, her current mood being one which promised all but the worsts of deaths. "WHERE IS THAT VILLAIN WHO DARES TO CALL YOU HIS BROTHER! I WANT HIM FOUND DAMNIT!" She continued, hand formed into fist as she smashed an errant plate of fragile porcelain doting the Emperor's study, spraying shards all throughout the normally comfortable and luxurious room.

The mere fact that his wife had slipped into profanity only caused Charles to become even more wary of the current situation, knowing how every step he took from now on would be akin to walking through a minefield with a blindfold.

"Dear, you must calm down.." He began, his voice low and soothing, or at least as best he could manage considering how deep it was. He failed to get farther into his rebuttal before Marianne, once again, reeled upon him, her eyes shooting an enraged glare.

"CALM?!" She screeched, as if asking if her husband was being serious. "YOU WANT ME TO BE CALM?!" She continued with disbelief, her voice reaching even seemingly higher octaves, if such a thing were possible, roaring out her emotions. Without pause of breath, the Knight of Six continued, "HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY ASK SUCH A THING FROM ME!? YOUR SON, OUR PERFECT LITTLE BOY, WAS JUST KILLED BY THAT THING V.V., ALL BECAUSE HE TRIED TO PROTECT ME, MY LIFE, AND YOU'RE ASKING ME TO BE CALM!? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!? IF I WASN'T…"

Marianne's hatred driven rant finally came to a halt as the Emperor interjected himself into his wife's personal monologue, his patience lost. "ENOUGH!" He howled, a scowl upon his face and a twitching in his eye.

Her husband's sudden retort drew a small yelp from Marianne's, now sore, throat, the powerful and commanding voice of her husband, combined with his now erect appearance, silencing the recently murder inclined Empress.

Regaining his trademark stone facade, Charles sat back down upon his office's singular leather armchair, an enlarged sigh breathing itself out from his mouth. "Marianne," He continued, his brief outburst forgotten, "I understand how you feel, I too had grown attached to the boy, considering how much promise he'd shown, but there is nothing we can do." His tone was back to its softer version of before, his attempts at appeasing his wife having little effect.

"But…But Charles!" Marianne stuttered, her expression betraying the emotions of one both shocked and appalled, "How can you simply let him get away, after what he's done?!"

Her husband's lack of response prompted the, now ever so slightly cooler headed, woman to continue, her voice wavering but a little, "Lelouch, your son, our son, the very definition of a perfect heir, is dead! Why aren't you any more angry than this?! Do you just not care!? He was everything we ever wanted, and now, he's gone! Not to mention how his sacrifice is the only reason I'm still here, mind you! If he hadn't been so paranoid to begin with, I might as well have died with him, riddle by your brother's bullets! What is it that's holding you back!?"

The Emperor simply let his beloved expel her anger, understanding, at least as closely as he could, the reason behind her anger. He too had once lost family, most notably his mother, and he too, despite what he may proclaim, had felt an overwhelmingly large amount mixture of both anger and remorse. What made his reaction different from his wife's, however, was that he'd since learned to cope with such things long ago, burying his emotions deep within the confines of his heart, locking them in. Looking into his queen's eyes, he began, "Marianne, I understand what it is you're going through, I understand your pain, but we cannot afford to let this event get in the way of our plan, do you understand what it is I'm asking from you?"

Marianne's face, now wet from spilled tears, simply noted up and down, up and down, in silent consent. She'd finally calmed herself down, reigning in her emotions, allowing the more logical portion of her mind to take over once more. "Ye…Yes Dear." She stuttered, thought her voice appeared hollow and shattered, as if a portion of her soul had just been ripped away. "It's just that…our boy is gone , our perfect little boy, and I couldn't even save him, I couldn't even say goodbye…"

Charles simply puled his grieving love into his embrace, his tall form towering over her as he pulled her into his broad chest, chin resting upon her head. "It will be alright, my love. Once Ragnarök is complete, you'll be able to see him again, and it will be as if none of this tragedy had ever happened. All we can do for now is continue on with the plan and hope that everything goes as we intended."

Her husband's words of comfort finally stilled the dry weeping consort, her voice having reached is naturally prominent tone, although still lacking its teasing demeanor, before inquiring, "And what of V.V.? Are you going to do anything about that? His body disappeared soon after Cornelia had arrived, so I can only assume he's gone back to the Directorate."

For a moment Charle's eyes glossed over, starring into the distance as he pondered the younger woman's question. What was he going to do? In not but a single night, his brother, the one sibling he'd made a vow to so many years ago, had robbed him of not only his favorite son, but also nearly slain his most cherished wife. To say he felt to resentment towards the blonde immortal would be a lie, but could he truly take action against him either? The emotional dilemma was rather unnerving to him.

Finally, after what appeared to have been the span of several moments, he finally spoke, "What V.V. has done to Lelouch and you is not something I take lightly, and I can promise you he will be given his due at the proper time. However, as it currently stands, to take action against him would be foolish, his skills and code are of a great importance to our cause, not to mention that he remains my brother, no matter the actions. All I can tell you is that I'm grateful your son was at least able to save your life, if not his own. I couldn't begin to tell you the grief I would have felt should you have been lost as well." His words were genuine and heartfelt, an immensely rare matter for the typically faceless monarch, though in the presence of Marianne such expressions of emotion were allowed, bringing a modicum of comfort to his otherwise strained daily life.

Suddenly, as if materializing from thin air, his Majesty's loyal knight, Bismarck Waldstein, entered the room, his pace hurried and abrupt. His failure to properly ask permission for entrance only accentuated the fact that whatever information he held had to be of grave importance, so much so that Charles tilted his head so as to face his subordinate's, eyebrow arched. The Knight of One began, "Your Majesty, I have urgent news", voice calm and flat, the polar opposite of his most recent body language.

"And what is this news you seem so inclined to tell me?" The Emperor inquired, having released Marianne from his grasp, facing the Round fully, a hint of ire and intrigue lacing his words.

Bismarck simply starred into his ruler's eyes and spoke, "The Prince lives."

When Cornelia li Britannia had arrived upon the night's scene, she had been utterly petrified. Having smashed in the large, oaken gates of the Aries Villa, a sense of panicked vigor coursing through her body, she could only think of the dangers her idol must have been facing. While it was customary for members of the imperial family to have some form of emergency system in place, it was almost never that they had actually been used, the rare occasions on which said systems had initiated having revealed themselves, at least so far, to have been only accidents, curtesy of some disgruntled child or accidental fall. More often then not, deaths within the ruling family were either through natural causes or assassination, and the later of the two had never allowed the chosen victims enough time to even so much as attempt to call for help, no matter how near their failsafe had been. And so, it had been to her utmost horror upon waking up to the blazing alarms of the guards' barracks, her very first thought being that of the safety of her charge. If Lady Marianne was calling for help, then she could only invasion the worst possible scenario of things to come.

It didn't take long for the guards to both assemble and mount up, their rifles on hand and armor in place, but it all seemed to be an eternity for the, still relatively young, 2nd Princess of Britannia, her heart pounding as they scrambled towards their APCs for transport to their charge's home, a medical truck and squadron of imperial doctors accompanying them should their services be required.

After what had felt like an hour, despite taking little more than a minute or two, the small convoy had appeared at the Villa's gates, and, without stopping, had smashed into its entry gate. Disembarking, the purple haired Captain had then beelined for the structure's front entry, smashing in its doors with the help of a small, cylindrical battering ram, its steel composition splintering the wooden frame.

It was at that time at which her eyes adjusted to the dimly light center of the room, pupils widening as much as for the lack of illumination as much as for the scene she was facing. There, at the bottom of the building's iconic stairway, lay the hunched over figure of the 5th Empress Consort, a pool of blood at her feet. For a moment Cornelia's breath stilled, believing that she'd come to late and that her idol's fate was already sealed, the crimson liquid at the woman's base giving an air that she'd been shot and was, most likely, dead from bloodlust. It was only after several more seconds of concentrated starring that the young woman came to fully understand the situation, the figure of a small boy emerging between Marianne's arms as the mother shifted positions, tears running down her face as she wailed, "Lulu, please stay with me, ok?! Please listen to mommy's voice! Don't close your eyes Lulu, you hear me?! Don't close your eyes!"

The sudden realization hit Cornelia with a force comparable to that of a large bullet, her hitherto clouded mind gaining clarity. It had not been Lady Marianne who was harmed, no. Instead, it was her son, Lelouch, who lay dying.

Coming to her senses, the Captain of the Guard sprinted across the room's marble tiled floor shouting, "Lady Marianne, are you alright?! What is it that happened here?!"

Her charge failed to answer, consciousness focused solely upon the thin frame of the boy in her arms, life seeping form him at an alarming rate despite her best attempts. When she realized Marianne had not heard, Cornelia repeated the question, though this time with greater force, "Lady Marianne, are you harmed?!"

As if awakening from a daze, the raven haired consort turned her head so as to face Cornelia's own, an expression of utter grief plastered across her usually delicate features, one never seen before.

"Cornelia!?" She exclaimed, as if surprised by her subordinates presence, though the notion became quickly dispelled. "Thank God you've arrived, Lulu's not breathing and I can't get him to open his eyes! Please do something, I can't lose him! You have to save him! Where are the doctors!?" The woman's tone was completely frantic, a sense of dread and anguish layered over every word.

Quickly grabbing the communicator at her rightmost side, the 2nd Princess barked out an order, daring for those on the line to hesitate or disagree in the slightest of fashions, "1st Squad, move into the Villa's main floor immediately to secure the room, and bring in the emergency personnel this instant! Inform them they will need a stretcher and multiple blood packs as well, the 11th Prince had been severely injured!" A rapid and customary, "Yes, my Lord.", sounded from the other side, acknowledging the order.

Her commands properly relayed, Cornelia approached Marianne shacking form, laying her hands upon the older woman's shoulders in an attempt at reassurance, as slight as it might be. Soothingly she whispered, "It will be alright my Lady, your so…I mean Lelouch will be ok. He is strong, and always has been, isn't that what your husband always said, that the strong will endure?"

Marianne simply eyed the standing Cornelia for a moment before eliciting a heartfelt sob, the still bleeding figure of Lelouch in her arms, exposed by the natural and artificially flashing lights streaming in from the outside. Finally gaining an appropriate glimpse of her younger half - brother's body, the Captain was unable to prevent herself from feeling a turning in her stomach.

He was going to die, she was sure of it. When one enrolled into the Britannian military, it was customary for the first few in class courses to address the issues of battlefield injuries, therefore requiring a moderate amount of knowledge on the human body. This included data such as weak points, vital organs, major arteries and other such related materials, information which could be used to determine the best course of action regarding a compatriot's, or one's own, wounds, although there is no denying that it was also, more than once, utilized in more…offensive manners. And so it should have been no surprise as Cornelia glanced over the child's injuries that she immediately came to the only logical prognosis: Death.

To begin with, Lelouch's skin was a deathly pale, virtually all of its color drained from his body considering the still ever expanding pools of crimson upon the stairs and staining his robes. Next was the simple fact that his fragile body was simply littered with holes, the majority of the assailants fire having impacted in the areas of the chest and legs, though somehow missing the arms. There could be no doubt that at least several of the projectiles had caused major damage to his organs, with either his lungs of gut being the more likely of the victims. Finally, as the still sobbing Empress had dutifully pointed out, Lelouch had simply ceased to breath, the final nail in the proverbial, and soon literal, coffin.

These thoughts ran across the synapses of Cornelia's mind at an alarmingly rapid rate, though she choose to squash the all to grizzly logic so as to provide Marianne with at least some inkling of hope, even if it should prove to be false.

Soon, a small team of approximately twenty guards had joined the trio of figures present within the room, a contingency of doctors at the rear, stretcher in hand. As the men in white blouses approached the boy prince's figure, Cornelia shot them a rather intense glare, a silent warning should anything 'unexpected' happen. Unfortunately, as said men began to pry the body from the Empress's arms, the later screeched.

"No, please don't take my boy away! Don't take my darling son away from me again!" Marianne's voice was borderline deranged, a wild gleam in her piercing eyes.

The medic's faltered ever so slightly before Cornelia herself intervened, placing the body on the stretcher and ordering the duo out, all the while holding the frantic woman behind. There was nothing more she could do.

The last thing Marianne would remember from the event would be the dejected words of Cornelia presenting her with a heartfelt, "I'm sorry.", the trauma of the situation thing its just dues and plunging her into darkness. The 5th Consort had fainted.

When Lelouch came to, the first thing he saw was the stark white light of a medical lamp, its rays shinning mercilessly into his exposed eyes, temporarily blinding him as he reeled back from the pain. Unfortunately, however, the prince's sudden flailing resulted in his falling onto the floor, marble tiles smashing into his face. To say he was in some form of discomfort would be moot.

"Uhhgggg…" He groaned. "Where am I?" He then asked, as if waiting for someone to answer him.

Slowly pushing himself off the surface, which was remarkably clean he noticed, Lelouch groggily observed his surroundings, his mind having yet to reach its standard rate of operation, no doubt due to the recent trauma he'd endured. Being hit by fully automatic rifle fire was sure to leave anyone with some sort of mental backlash along with the, rather obvious, physical ones, right?

Now carefully eyeing the room in which he had awoken, Lelouch noted its rather Spartan appearance, with not more than a table, chair, computer , mirror and mortuary table finishing the largely cramped space.

'Wait…' He thought, confusion wiring its way into his brain, 'Mortuary table?'.

Sparring another glance at the object in question, the raven haired boy could only gasp at the reality that was. He had, in fact, fallen off of a mortuary table, its stainless steel legs and top being the very definition of a table for recently deceased individuals, complete with drainage pipe for any…leaking fluids.

Eyes widened in shock, he muttered, "But if I'm here and not in a hospital, that must mean…" His voice ceased, his words no longer able to make their way out of his mouth, jaw dropped, as understanding dawned upon him.

He had died, for that was the only explanation as to why he would be here, and yet, somehow, he was alive. Then a single thought came to mind, a not so distant memory of a shinning red bird in flight, one plastered upon a certain green haired witch's forehead.

Stumbling upright in the most demeaning of fashions, his rear exposed to the morgue's cool sterilized air, his gown protecting little, Lelouch made his way toward the room's opposite side, that on which a body sized mirror lay hanging upon the wall. He lifted his bangs and saw, right upon his own forehead, the all to familiar symbol of the code.

He had a Code. He was immortal. Then a thought came to him, 'Wait a minute, I'm only ten.'

A single, crass word made itself heard throughout the empty room.

"Shit."

"The Prince lives."

Bismarck's words clung to the throne room's air, time grinding to a halt at the three words he'd just pronounced to his liege and consort, an expression of utter seriousness etched across his features.

Both Charles and Marianne starred dumbly at the Knight of One's statement, as if they hadn't heard or were simply unable to understand. A tense silence hung for several moments, before the Emperor, in a tone of, dare he say, amazement, asked, "How?"

The question held no malice nor joy, only disbelief, the man being unable to summon any other form of emotion at this time.

The loyal knight replied, "I do not know, your Majesty. All that I've been told is that Prince Lelouch was found, alive, walking the halls of the Imperial Morgue. They explained how he was clad only in the night robe in witch he had died, having asked them for directions in an attempt to, apparently, find the exit. It was also commented how the boy seemed to appear completely unharmed, with no visible words upon his body"

The royal duo simply stared bug - eyed at the man's explanation, unsure as of how to proceed. The very fact that their son was alive, alive of all things, was enough to destabilize the entirety of their footing, not to mention the need for a complete review of their most recent discussion.

Marianne, who'd remained silent up to this point, finally exclaimed, "LULU'S ALIVE!?" An aura had formed around the Empress' figure, radiating both joy and relief, the news bringing freshly spawned tears to her eyes. She then continued, though with a lowered tone, "Where is he and when can I see him!?"

Unfortunately for her, Charle's voice prevented an answer to the inquiry, stating firmly, "Bismarck, how many people know of this?"

Waldstein considered the question for a minute, before answering, "As of now, your Majesty, Lady Marianne, myself and the Imperial Mortuary's staff are the only one's aware of this information. If I may ask, my Lord, do you believe…"

The Emperor answered the unfinished question in an almost immediate fashion, "Yes.", he stated, the gruff bass of his voice echoing against the walls of the vast chamber, "It is the only explanation.", he concluded.

At these words the Knight of One's eyebrows arched up, the implication's of his Majesty's finality being one of an unprecedented magnitude. Unable to restrain his curiosity, he questioned, "But how could such a thing be possible? There is no discernible reason, nor any existing record, of such an event ever occurring? Is there something that I've not been told?"

Charles simply fixed his knight with his gaze, answering in a flat tone, frown upon his face, "No, Bismarck, I am unaware of how this could have happened, and we can be assured that my brother was just as ignorant as well, or else he would not have struck as he did today. As for your second question, you of all people should know of our plans, for everything we have come across has been given to you, so do not question my candor, understand?"

Having realized the nature of his mistake, Bismarck simply kneeled before his master, exclaiming, "Forgive me your Majesty, It was not my intention to question your actions. I am merely surprised at the repercussions this may have in your plans, considering how unexpected the development was."

It was then that a somewhat peeved Marianne made herself known to the two discussing men, demanding, "What are you two speaking of? Does this have anything to do with Lelouch?" While her tone was strong, there were hints of worry underlying her words, the nature of the conversation having seemingly become darker than she'd like.

Her husband turned to face her and said, "Marianne, I believe that Lelouch has a Code."

The raven haired woman simply gawked at him for a moment before replying, "Charles, if this is some sort of twisted joke than you'd have better…"

"I am not jesting Marianne," Charles interrupted, cutting her off, "it is the only logical explanation for his survival, both you and I know this. You saw the medical report Cornelia presented us with, Lelouch died long before reaching the hospital."

The blood from Marianne's face seemed to vanish for a moment, before returning to its normal color. 'Lelouch immortal?' She thought, 'But how can that be?' It was then that a far more serious matter came her mind, one which she choose to voice sooner, rather than latter.

"And what of V.V., does he know? If what you're telling me is true, than no doubt he must have become aware as well, right? What are we going to do? I refuse to simply place my son back into the hands of that monster." The vehemence in the last portion of her rant drew an ever so minute frown from the Emperor's face, thought he quickly suppressed it.

He then rebutted, "Marianne, I realize how tonight's events have brought you a great deal of stress, though please refrain from insulting my elder brother if you would. As for Lelouch himself I only see one way to protect him."

"And what would that be dear?" The Empress questioned, intrigued by whatever solution her husband seemed to have to offer.

"Exile." Was his deadpanned reply, his face as blank as rock.

"Your Majesty?" Bismarck questioned, a perplexed expression on his face.

"It remains quite simple really," Began the emperor, amusement in his words, "seeing as how it would be…unwise to present Lelouch as alive, considering the reports of his death that would have, by no doubt, spread, as well as the fact on how it would be difficult to shield him from any potential future actions from my brother, I shall have the boy exiled to a foreign power, somewhere where we will be able to keep him close at hand but far enough away so as to ensure his safety. It would be a shame to lose the boy."

"And to what nation would you send him dear?" Asked Marianne, the explanation having garnered her undivided attention.

"Japan." Was the straightforward reply.

"Japan?" She questioned, unaware of the reason behind such a choice.

Comprehending his beloved's apparent confusion, the Emperor began to elaborate, explaining how, "Japan is vital for two reasons. First of all, and most importantly, is the fact that one of the Thought Elevators have been discovered on a remote portion of land known as Kamine Island. Secondly, the Japanese mainland serves as the world's largest known reserve of raw Sakuradite, a mineral the empire is in dire need if we are to maintain our current advantage over the E.U. and Chinese Federation, not to mention how important a role it plays in our Knightmares. The only difficulty we face is that their current leadership, that of the Kururugi Regime, is heavily suspicious of our intentions. And what better method to have them lower their guard then to provide them with a hostage?" A sly grin formed upon Charles' face, his lips curling in an upwards fashion at their edge.

"You intend to make Lelouch a political hostage?" Marianne asked, frowning at the implications being laid out before her.

"It is for the best dear. Not only will he be safely away from my brother but, should either he or C.C. refuse to participate in our plans, then we will have another Code at our convenient disposal.

"A good plan your Majesty." Commented an impressed Bismarck.

"Noted." Replied the Emperor, somewhat dismissive in his tone.

"And what of Nunnally Charles, will you separate her from Lelouch? Would you do that to the boy?"

The Emperor momentarily froze at his consort's question, though only just. He, of all people, understood the sacred bond that existed between loyal siblings. It was a notion that both he and his brother understood all to well, in this world of lies. Could he bring himself to sever such a bond between Marianne's children. It was a dilemma to him, though he had to take into account the overarching goal. Ragnarök was the end, and Lelouch was but a means. Yes, he would separate them. Once it had all come to pass he would explain his actions and they would come to understand. His son was intelligent enough, his daughter kind. They would accept it, as would the world, all in due time. Emerging from his musing, the Emperor replied yet again, "Yes, I shall."

Marianne lowered her head, eyeing the floor, but remained silent. He knew she did not wish for such things, but he also knew that, she too, could understand the reasons behind his decision.

"Then it is settled." And with an air of finality, Charles zi Britannia left the throne room, Bismarck at his tail, walking towards his private quarters. The night had been all too long.

Lelouch had never been one for surprises, having a personal hatred for such things. The very name was synonymous for the unforeseen and unpredicted, terms which had never gone well within his mind. He'd always preferred the calculable and orderly, the factors that could be assembled and analyzed, rendering them easy to control or, at the very least, manipulate. So it would be easy to understand his annoyance when he'd been found searching for an escape at the morgue, only to be discovered by two doctors whom, apparently, had been on their way to conduct his autopsy. The reunion had, to be blunt, been rather difficult to explain. It would seem, however, that such event would only be the beginnings of his problems, unfortunately.

Not but an hour following his discovery, Lelouch had been forcibly carried off by a small team of O.S.I. agents and dumped onboard a plane, his only explanation having been what he'd been given in a small manilla colored folder. The experience had been rather anti - climactic he believed. It wasn't every day a prince died only to resurrect mere hours later, but, then again, he'd experience worse.

He would soon find out that he was being, once again, shipped off to Japan, his duty being that of a political exile, a tool in his father's grand scheme. Only this time, to his dismay, he would be alone.

"Nunnally…" He muttered under his breath, tears swelling at the corners of his eyes.

He was immortal, trapped within the body of a child, separated from the most important person in his life, and now, on a plane towards his newfound prison.

It was going to be a long flight…