Code Geass: Enduring Retribution

Key:

[ ] - Sound Effects

" " - 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 IX - Wartime Reunion

Throughout the centuries of human existence, the madness known as war has come to be praised, glorified and even epitomized, the art of chaos and destruction having, long ago, wormed its way into the darkest corners of mens' hearts. The reason behind this is simple: War, an action which thrives entirely upon the bloodshed and suffering of mankind, is addictive. When one goes to war, he or she becomes endowed with a new sense of purpose and desire, an incurable lust for both control and authority; they are lured by the intoxicating nature of power.

Power. The power to take one's life, the power to send scores of men to their premature deaths, the power to dictate who shall live and who shall die, is exhilarating. Nothing, not honor, not wealth, not glory, has ever come close to the vehemently desired craving for power. It matters not what those men seeking to attain it were like or what they wished to accomplish, all hungered for the ever fickle and elusive concept. Some may have aspired towards dreams of personal gain, others longed for the betterment of others, yet still, in the end, such things were of little consequence. To adjudge one's fate, to transform one's world, one needs, requires, power. It is, by far, the ultimate catalyst for change. But war, that event through which power shines at its brightest and most potent, in the end, has never brought nothing more than squalor and torment, an unsightly truth hidden deep within the layers of lies, all for the sake power. And Lelouch, despite everything, loved it; and he could not prevent himself from his own self - loathing.

Power, more so than anything else, corrupts. Its very nature is one which has led, and still leads, men to their deaths, the relentless thirst for its acquisition resulting in a vicious spiral of both pain and loss, all those attempting to garner doomed to meet their inexorable fates, their humanity, their beliefs, their goals, their actions, the very essence of the soul, lost in their struggle, pulled into the dark abyss of misery and suffering.

Lelouch knew this, he'd experienced the phenomenon first hand, a series of tragedies eternally plaguing his conscience, each individual event more dreadful than the last: The death of his mother, the crippling of Nunnally, the war in Japan, the massacre of Shinjuku, the insanity of Mao, Euphemia's murder, Suzaku's betrayal, Shirley's assassination, the Black Knights' mutiny, Rolo's sacrifice, Ragnarök, the Demon Emperor… All manners of hardships and regrets brought along by his very own hands, whether directly or indirectly, and all in the name of a far off, borderline irrational goal of world peace. And yet he'd continued.

The ends justified the means, his dream had been accomplished, Nunnally's world secured, peace established. But the means stayed just as horrible, the blood on his hands acting as monstrous sins tarnishing his being, forever a reminder of the evils committed. And still he'd relished it, adored it to this day, for only power could change the world, a twisted irony.

"Still, it was all for the greater good…" Lelouch mumbled, his voice low and contrite, "And what does it matter anyways? After all, it takes evil to destroy a greater evil, so can anyone consider those desires as appalling as they claim them to be?" The question went unanswered, sound failing to reach his ears save for the staccato - like scratching of his dragged along footsteps.

Currently, Lelouch was making his way towards his the nearest LPDS to the, now former, Kururugi Shrine, his legs continuously moving his body across the crater filled path, the smell of semi - fresh corpses and remains of charred vehicles littering the roadsides of his advance. The overall atmosphere brought gruesome visions to his eyes, his mind subconsciously recollecting the horrors he'd seen less than two decades ago in a war all to similar to that of this time, memories enhanced by the grim spectacle playing before him once again. Had his psyche not have been of a strong enough caliber, strengthened by years of involuntarily conditioned pain, Lelouch had no doubt that he would have simply broken down and cried, vomiting what little food he'd eaten that Thursday morning. It would have been, for many, a display that was just too much to bear.

As he continued on his self - imposed journey, the raven haired boy caught a faint hint of luminous green upon the edge of his peripheral vision, the uncommon color invoking the image of a certain immortal witch.

'It couldn't be, could it?' Lelouch thought, head turning so as to garner a better view of the subject in question, a burning desire for answers enwrapping his mind. Leaving behind his meager supplies, the exiled prince carefully made his way towards the subject in question.

In the few moments it took the young boy to reach his target, his stark violet eyes widened in a seemingly cartoonish fashion, pupils dilating in utter surprise. Not but a meter away from his feet lied the completely naked form of C.C., her body resting limply within what he could only imagine as having once been the cockpit of a Glasgow Knightmare Frame. By all available accounts, or as far as he could fathom, the typically unfeeling woman must have perished during a fight with remnant Japanese forces, the evidence of battle laid bare by the various Britannian and JDF insignias on the lesser damaged vehicles and uniforms strewn around.

"What could you possibly be doing here C.C.?" Lelouch questioned rhetorically, aware of the fact that the youthful beauty was, by all means, unconscious. Whatever had most recently slain her must have been something of a rather forceful and destructive nature, the large portions of her body stained of black and red residue pointing towards some sort of explosion. This, added to the fact that she'd succumb within a Knightmare, made the most likely answer to be either a cannon or tank shell, neither of which would have incurred a presumably pleasant demise.

He stood there for several minutes in confused mesmerization, his mind racking itself so as to understand the meaning behind her being in Japan whilst his mother still lived, before returning to his senses, reality setting in. Whatever questions he'd come up with would have to wait for a more appropriate time; C.C.'s current condition had now become his main priority.

Moving his ten year old form right next to that of the witch's, an subconscious hurry in his gait, Lelouch, though not without great difficulty, hoisted the amber eyed girl into his arms, his hands hooking underneath her shoulders and dragged her towards a nearby APC, its underside upturned through whatever violent means such a position could have been accomplished, only to then proceed to lean her back against the underside of said vehicle. His passing glance took notice of the woman's face, its features both calm and relaxed, its expression eerily similar to those of bliss and serenity. Had she longed for death so much that those times in which she did die brought her happiness? The implication left Lelouch brooding. Immortality could, in certain aspects, come to be seen as a curse, yet life was simply to precious to just blindly throw out the window, at least in terms of his own personal perspective.

"I promised that I'd make you smile." Lelouch whispered, more to himself than to his 'newfound' companion, a steel like edge of determination present within his tone.

Having arranged C.C. in the most comfortable way he could, Lelouch unwarrantably took notice of her…indecent exposure, a light blush creeping across his face despite the inappropriateness of the action considering their situation and, even worse so, his age. Forcing such perverse thoughts into the deep recesses of his mind, Lelouch quickly refocused upon the task at hand: Finding her clothes, preferably ones that would fit.

'Might as well find myself a weapon while I'm at it. Immortal or not, I'm not exactly keen on dying.' The raven haired boy though as he set out upon his latest of quests. It wouldn't be long before night set in.

Charles zi Britannia often prided himself, although only whenever it was limited to the confines of his own privacy, of his exceptional patience. Despite having been seemingly born with the noteworthy character trait, Charles' years as the Britannian Emperor had helped to solidify this useful attribute, the endless whining and bickering of the court's nobles, combined with the ever - more dull droning of his, often incompetent, ministers, acting as a form of practice, gradually improving said skill with the passage of time. It was, therefore, that the monarch inwardly groaned as he felt his, otherwise generally staunch, composure beginning to slip as he digested the latest words of his favorite wife, an abashed image of the 5th Consort's face clearly visible upon the screen through which the duo were communicating no less than half a world apart. Hands dutifully massaging his forehead, the white haired Emperor questioned, "Would you care to repeat whatever it is you've just told me Marianne? I was under the impression that you'd apparently claimed to have lost C.C."

Marianne's face shifted from guilt to annoyance, a slight scowl easily visible as she retorted, "You know exactly what it is I've just said Charles, don't play coy with me with these games of yours, you know full well that they don't work on me, and besides, I'm not exactly in the mood to play along, that alone should serve you as a warning in any case, you know how it is whenever I get cranky."

The Emperor's lips curled in a downwards fashion at his wife's rather disrespectful reply, unaccustomed to seeing such a crude side of her. True, Marianne was far more…liberal in her demeanors and choice of language, but rarely did she engage herself in such a sulking style of character, more often teasing or waving off whatever verbal ammunition both he and the court's fired at her, taking them as of little consequence or importance. It was one of many reasons for which he'd come to respect, and eventually love, the fiery commoner, and should the situation have been any different he would have simply paid no mind and let it go. Unfortunately for the both of them, however, their current topic was anything but unimportant, C.C.'s disappearance being one of great inconvenience.

Charles merely sighed as he spoke, voice flat and exasperated as he abandoned his customarily granite - like expression, the need for masks unwarranted for the private interaction, "I merely find it somewhat of a nuisance that you have lost our second - closest ally in the middle of a war - torn nation, especially when taking into consideration the fact that you had been sent there in order to retrieve Lelouch. This unwanted development is not going to favor our plans Marianne, it's difficult for me to hide my displeasure at this point."

The Empress' expression seemed to darken only further as she absorbed her husband's criticism, eyes narrowing, "While that's all very fine and dandy Charles, the truth is is that I've lost C.C. and have no idea on how to find her. Add to that my duties as Knight of Six for the invasionary force and I find myself with my hands tied. Now, as for your criticism I don't find them to be exactly fair, considering you have absolutely no clue to the circumstances I was in at the time."

"The please, do enlighten me Marianne, as I still find it difficult to believe that you, of all people, would have difficulties keeping an eye on an otherwise completely apathetic immortal girl, your skills set rendering this whole issue all the more absurd."

A loud bang then suddenly echoed around the empty throne room, the sound of an angered Marianne punching her desk made itself known through the screen's speakers, "Damn it Charles I couldn't do anything! I might be a Knight of the Round but one Knightmare cannot face off against two whole tank divisions, you simply can't dodge everything they'd fire at you, I would know because that's what I tried!"

Charles rightmost eyebrow then arched in interest, a simple gesture oh his hand signaling his wife to go on with her explanation.

"Me and C.C. were acting as the Knightmare escorts for a standard military column on route to Tokyo when we were ambushed by JDF forces and dealt a stunning blow. I then took command and was in the process of routing their forces before enemy reinforcements came in a destroyed my right flank and C.C.'s Knightmare. Charles, I simply couldn't get to her without inviting suicide, I really couldn't. In any case I had to pull back and return to our starting point, which is where I'm at as of this moment, by the way, and now have no way to get into contact with her, let alone find her."

The Emperor pondered his wife's explanation in quite silence for several moments before a certain detail came to bother him, "If what you say is true Marianne, and do believe that I do not doubt your word, then why hasn't she reported back to the camp yet? I assume she would have known the route to come back, yes?"

"And there lies the problem Charles!" The 5th consort irritatedly spat, none to pleased, "The fact is that she did know the way back to base and that she still has yet to show up, a detail which is really getting on my nerves right now, along with some apprehension to boot. Either she's actually on her way and the base hasn't noticed, which is hard to say since I've had patrols sent out ever since my return, or she won't or can't come back, either out of spite of me having apparently left her or because she was captured, both possibilities of which I believe to be minor, but plausible still. The worse thing about this is how we didn't even get to go on our scheduled search for Lelouch following the whole thing."

Charles looked on with interest as his wife's face shifted yet again from exhaustion and frustration to that of worry and concern, the woman's process of though now clearly focused upon that of her son's faith, thought he didn't know why.

"Why is it you say such things Marianne? Was the intelligence provided by the O.S.I. not sufficient for you to find the boy?" He asked, genuinely interested in whatever causes lay behind the raven's reasoning.

Marianne sighed yet again as she looked towards her screen as she deadpanned, "Not really, no."

The monarch was about to inquire further before his wife beat him to the punch, deepening her explanation, "While the O.S.I. did originally tell me of where he was at the war's start, which was the Kururugi Shrine, I'd doubt he'd be there anymore, seeing as to how it had been almost a week before today when the entire building was apparently destroyed by missile strike, and I'm not even going to bother questioning you on that piece of information lest I get angry with you. In essence I have virtually no lead as to where he could be, making this one of the worst days in my life."

As the Empress fell into exhausted silence Charles began to evaluate the overall situation, his conclusions being none to good. Lelouch was still missing, C.C. had vanished and, to top it all off, his wife was fatigued, both physically and mentally. The trifecta of problems made for a nasty combination.

Repositioning himself upright upon having realized his gradual slouching throughout the conversation, the man spoke in a both caring and stern manner, "These affairs will have to be dealt with at the soonest possibility Marianne, therefore the brunt of the responsibility will fall to you, so make sure to not fail me, as well as yourself, again. However, I advise you to get your rest for the following morning, the war has yet to truly close, our problems will have to wait until then."

Marianne response was one in the form of a small smile and curtly, "Thank you.", before the ongoing transmission terminated, signaling its end. As the retractable screen gradually slipped back into its concealed position, Charles' thoughts drifted, mind wandering, 'I will have to inform brother of this and he is most likely to be unhappy. What other obstacles are going to find their way into our plans?'

Death, eternal slumber. C.C. had longed for it for decades, maybe centuries at this point; in all honesty she couldn't really tell. The overwhelming desire to finally attain peace, to embrace the stillness of the dark, the ignorance that came when absorbed within the Collective Unconscious, remained the only reasonable goal she could strive for. There was, in her lifetime, simply to much pain and too little love for her to endure the hell that was living, nothing more than experiences she could easily do without. It was why, as the immortal woman gradually emerged from her state of limbo, that she sighed. Death had, yet again, eluded her. Had she not wept her due amount of tears long ago, C.C. made no illusions she would have at her rousing.

To her curiosity, however, C.C. awoke, not in the remains of a downed Knightmare frame, but instead lying on a makeshift pile of clothes, similar in purpose to that of a bed, a warm fire flickering off to the side, its sparks emanating from the small, hissing flames that cast a dim light onto her surroundings. The environment around her, she noticed, was noticeably metallic, the stainless steel gray of some armored vehicle's interior vaguely illuminated. Her eyes, adjusting to the dim glow, observed the finer details of her temporary abode, the eternal youth taking notice in the series of rank and file seats, as well as small - arms racks, lining said vehicles walls, their presence acting as an clue to her location.

'I'm probably lying inside one of the downed APCs.' She perceived, having recognized the all but inconspicuous Britannian crest upon the transport's roof, streaks of soft moonlight flowing in through puncture holes of various sizes across its armored hide, no doubt caused by stray shrapnel or other such projectiles.

Rising from her original laid down posture, C.C. then became aware of a light weight bearing upon her shoulders, eyes absorbing the appearance of a large and bloodied Japanese combat uniform with which she'd been dressed, a single tear present in the region frontal to that of the heart. No doubt it's previous owner was no longer in need of it, though the getup made questions arise. Just who's it that had moved and clothed her, and where were they now?

'Who could this mysterious benefactor be?' She inquired to herself, genuinely curious as to the identity of her 'savior'. The answer appeared in an almost immediate fashion, a sound of rustling coming from the opposite corner of the APC.

Crawling towards the sound in a catlike fashion, what C.C. saw brought on a not so mild amount of surprise. There, sitting awkwardly within the confines of the frontmost passenger seat, was the all too familiar shape of a small, ten year old child, raven black hair hiding away his, no doubt, closed eyes, rifle at his side. The boy's mere being here, let alone survival when, by all accounts, he'd been proclaimed dead, sent the witch's mind in an uncharacteristic bout of confusion.

"Lelouch?" She whispered, pupils dilating as she attempts to force her vision to improve, wanting to insure that whatever sat before her was real and not some figment of the imagination.

The young child stirred for a moment yet did not wake, his slumber either too deep or her voice to low for C.C.'s word to effectively wake him. As she placed a hand upon Lelouch's shoulder in preparation to shake him awake, the amber eyed woman realized that he was shivering, his balled up form ever - so - slightly vibrating as his body did its best in order to stay warm. She sighed.

"You've never been one to really look after yourself Lelouch, boya, have you?" She mockingly questioned, her hands slithering their way behind the boy's back and under his legs as she hosted him up, bridal style, carrying him to her 'bed' closer to the fire. He'd most likely had trouble falling asleep with the light it created and moved towards a more secluded, and darker, portion of the transport. It was a good idea as long as one didn't mind the cold, however. The September climate in Japan is often described as both hot and humid, at least to foreigners, though it was also common for the temperature to drop down significantly during the nights, explaining the Prince's making of a fire; he hadn't wanted her to get cold.

'Quite considerate of him, isn't it?' She mused, now sitting down upon her bedding with a cradled Lelouch in her arms, his head pressed lightly against her breasts as her own rested upon his hair. If the situation had been one of virtually any other kind, it could be said that the duo's position could be akin to that of a mother coddling her child, a heartwarming scene to say the least. C.C. was a witch, and ergo heartless, but that did not mean she was unable to display emotion. Centuries old she may be, but the essence of human nature was not something time alone could merely do away with. A slight movement against her chest signified the boy's slumber approaching its end, a quick look down giving her a glimpse of his fluttering eyelids. Lelouch's pupils fluctuated in size as they attempted to adjust to their surrounding environment, a tired and surly tone characterizing his voice as he spoke in a somewhat unintelligible manner.

"So this is…" He paused as a large yawn escaped from his mouth, testimony to his most recent state, "What its like to be Cheese - kun…" he finished.

The witch arched one of her eyebrow's at the Prince's remark, interested as to the origins of the statement. What was this so called 'Cheese - kun' he spoke of? Why did it seem to come to mind as he found himself wrapped in her arms? And, most importantly of all, what relation did it have to pizza? After all, the fact that an entire half of its name was the exact same as the all - mighty of pizza toppings must be of hint of some great significance, correct? In any case, C.C. noted within her mind that she would, sooner rather than later, receive her due answer to these highly philosophically important questions. Such findings would have, no doubt, great ramifications upon the future of the famous Italian dish, at least in her opinion. She would consider said knowledge as her due payment for her show of tenderness; it wasn't just everyday she'd expressed care towards someone, as she certainly wasn't going to do it only out of the goodness of her heart either.

C.C. was then brought out of her musings as she registered an unnatural rise in temperature near the region of her breasts, a large pool of heat having gathered around them. Straightening her back so as to allow her head to tilt downwards, the green haired woman noticed, with considerable amusement, the deeply flushed face of Lelouch, cheeks glowing in a laughably dark shade of crimson, his eyes widened in apparent horror at the positioning of his face in respect to her body. He sputtered, "Uh…Well I…C.C…. This isn't…Hem…"

Seeing as how the Prince appeared unable to formulate even the most basic of proper sentences while he remained within her embrace, the witch gently lifted him off of her lap and place him at her side, right arm draping over his shoulders in an dual attempt to both comfort and tease him at the same time. She thought such a gesture would help to ease into the all but inevitable interrogation Lelouch was about to take par, using companionship in contrast to the horrors of war he must've seen to better manipulate him, the fact that they'd known each other relatively well also acting as a sort of on the side trump card. He was a nice boy, but still, she needed answers.

"So…" C.C. began, her tone flat and unfeeling, "How are you alive?"

The question caused Lelouch to visibly flinch, his eyes widening before almost instantly returning back to normal, a glint of suspicion present within his deep, violet orbs. "I could ask you the same thing C.C., that Knightmare back there seemed rather beat for you to have gotten out of it unharmed, not to mention how I found you…" He cut himself off before finishing his sentence, the lude memory bringing back yet another blush to his face, although much more mild than the last.

C.C. was amused at how easily flustered the Prince would become at the mere implication of the unmentioned subject, though the fact that he seemed to be evading her question also brought on suspicions on her own. Just how did he survive? Could it be that he simply never died to begin with? After all, Charles was not above using his children as pawns in his game, so the idea of using Lelouch a bargaining chip, one that was already, at least officially, dead, rendered the boy all the more handy. But, if that were the case, why go through all the trouble to retrieve him, let alone send Marianne herself? While she could understand Marianne searching for him out of love, she doubted Charles felt the same. She continued, "My situation is rather special Lelouch, and my telling you isn't of any real importance, so don't bother overthinking it. That aside, you still haven't answered my question: How is it you're still alive?"

Violet eyes stared deeply into her own, the duo's gaze locking in within one - another. Several seconds, then a minute passed before Lelouch finally, and seemingly reluctantly, backed down.

"It's because I never died in the first place." He deadpanned.

The boy's lack of emotion was off for the typically emotional child, although, in his defense, virtually every other human on the planet appeared emotional to her.

'Lack of practice.' Was all the witch chalked the observation to. She was getting sidetracked though.

"You don't sound very convincing."

Again she was answered by silence for a moment, right up until Lelouch spoke again.

"Believe whatever it is you want witch, all I can say is that what I'm telling you is the truth." Lelouch deadpanned yet again, although there were the faint traces of annoyance seeping into his voice, C.C.'s insistent pushing most likely to blame. She decided to let the matter rest for now, she'd have her answers one way or another, and she had the patience to wait for them. Time was the one thing C.C. would always have in excess, much to her own personal dismay. She decided to switch topics.

"You seem to be holding up quite well considering the fact that there's a war going on, have you done this before?" She mockingly questioned, eagerly awaiting whatever outraged or unhumorous response to make its way out from Lelouch's mouth. What she heard, however, was not something she'd expected.

"Yes, quite a few time actually." The raven haired boy responded, sincerity present within every spoken word.

Lelouch's eyes then widened in surprise as he realized the slip - up, his face scrunching up as he began to mentally berate himself on revealing such sensitive information so easily. At this point in time he could not predict what course of action C.C. might take should she become informed of the underlying truth of his situation. He turned his head so as to avoid the narrow stare the green hair woman was now giving him.

"What is it your hiding exactly Lelouch? These answers of your's aren't what you'd call typical, especially at your age. Won't you tell me, as a friend at least?"

Despite the gentler approach, the tone in which the amber eyed girl posed the question left the impression of wariness. She was getting upset at how vague and indirect he was being, despite her change in topic. She was getting nowhere. Switch in tactics then.

"Lelouch, I'd prefer not use more…unsavory methods to get you to answer my questions. Wouldn't you rather just answer me honestly for once instead of avoiding the subject?" She questioned, emotion lacking yet again.

The boy in question only looked at her with disdain at the not so veiled, looking justifiably angry at the implications she was making. Good, at least she was eliciting some other form of reaction from him other than deception. His attitude was honestly getting yo her considering how he'd never seemed this closed when they'd interacted back at Aries.

"C.C…." Lelouch warned, "This kind of information is not something you should be prying into at the moment, can't you understand?"

Both opponents stared themselves down for the how manyeth time since they'd begun talking, neither will wishing to relinquish before the other, although, just as last time, it was Lelouch who gave in first. C.C.'s apathetic look simply could not be beat.

'It's not fair, she's had centuries to practice too.' Lelouch thought as he silently sulked. He would not let the witch get a bigger kick out of the situation more than she'd already had. "I'll explain things later C.C., alright? I just need…" He paused, unsure of what to name in lieu of an excuse, "Time to think." he ended.

Of course, C.C. saw right through and realized that he was vying for time, but she also realized he was not willing to talk at this point. Besides, forcibly invading his mind was more of a last resorts and immensely draining on her psyche, so she kept the looming threat as a sorts of back - up plan rather than a main course of action. The answers could wait until morning.

"Alright Lelouch, get your rest, and sit by sleep by the fire this time instead of sleeping off in the cold over there, it's ridiculous. Don't worry, I won't bite…much."

As she noted herself back to sleep, C.C. couldn't help but register the on and off ramblings of her roommate, word's of 'wicked witches making men sleep on the floor' pervading her thoughts.

'Where does that boya get all those ideas?' She inquired before becoming enveloped in darkness once more. It was a close to death as she could get anyways.

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