Chapter Five: And his name was Zero

Arc Two: Beneath the Red Table

Opening: "Cyclone" - 12012

Anger. Fury. All holy hell unleashed so concisely and pointedly one would wonder whether it were a physical thing, that could be wielded like a blade, its hotness and focus slicing through all in its way, onlookers making from Lear's shaft. These were the things Lelouch felt as he made it back to his room, as he swept his arm outwards, smashing a vase filled with flowers, echoes ringing out in high pitched screams as they refracted off the edges of the vinyl walls in tiny pieces, falling and littering the carpeted floor with sharp edges and stale dirt. He roared, not loudly or grandly as was his way, but a hoarse deep groan of frustration and regret. He had held himself back, he had listened, and still nothing. He had found Clovis, he had been there, and he had reconciled with him, only for him to die.

And while it did strike him as momentarily selfish, he felt bitter. It was as if, he felt, that Clovis was his to kill, and having decided to work with him, having him die at someone else's hand seemed completely unfair. As much as he denied it, he would have loved to be the one to do it. Anyone else, any other political rival or ambitious enemy seemed inappropriate. No one had a Casus Belli like Lelouch's, and to see it stolen, on a basic level, hurt him.

Though he suspected it probably hurt Clovis a little more, given that he died and all.

This private acknowledgement drew him out of his rage just long enough to spy the legs of a silent wheelchair and the face of a terrified girl.

"Lelouch?"

His fist retracted back towards his torso, as he released an exasperated breath into the ether. He couldn't be mad, not around Nunnally. He couldn't present that face, or she would lose hope. That must not happen, and so he must put on a brave face for her benefit, no matter the consequences for him.

A more straightforward example of this came in the form of their diligent accomplice, Ohgi, rushing behind Nunnally to see what the commotion was. While he had a natural instinct to protect Nunnally, his dissonance was more practical. Ohgi, for all his uses, had not been made aware of Lelouch's heritage. Learning it would have an untold effect on his attitude, and maintaining the correct image among his subordinates, as well as for the future, was paramount. What Ohgi, and by extension everyone, felt in the long term was far more important than Lelouch felt in the short term.

Ohgi must not know.

"I'm fine." he spoke through forced teeth and a thick, contracted throat. "Just lost the rag is all. Carry on."

Ohgi looked down, his gaze betraying his initially mixed emotions, but his head nodding obediently after a moment's pause and leaving, however Nunnally approached slowly, wheeling herself up to Lelouch's waist.

"What happened?"

He sighed, casting a cross glare towards the door, before whispering to Nunnally alone "Clovis… our brother… just died."

She looked concerned, yet somewhat curious. He hated the look, as it showed understanding and depth that he would give anything to allow her to avoid. It showed perception, as did her response "And that made you mad?"

"Indeed… we had…"

He paused, not consciously but not out of his own control either… he had needed a moment to think that he had not realised was prudent, but his own hesitation granted his unknown wish.

Did he want to involve Nunnally?

Certainly, worse things could be shared. He'd reconciled with his brother, admittedly at gunpoint, but it was progress. That would be undoubtedly met with approval. His plans overall were not violent ones, certainly less damaging to open up about than designs of any kind of bloody coup. But still, she was too young. Then again, if she knew now, it would spare his worries at a later date...

His mind continued, straight as a train headed into the depths of Siberia, observing the previously unobserved as he asked himself questions he had always hoped to forestall, but Nunnally could tell he was stalling for time as he wondered whether to spill his guts to the one he loved.

"Lelouch, what happened between you and him?"

"We met."

This barebones, monosyllabic reply sent her into a brief silence with its unusual clarity, but she recovered quickly "He recognised you?"

It was hard to mistake someone holding a gun at you while otherwise alone in a room, but Lelouch let that minor detail slide. He slowly replied "Yes, myself and Suzaku met up with him yesterday."

"Did you kill him?"

It was Lelouch's turn to be caught off guard. She knew him very well, and was not far off the mark, which infuriated him given that he hadn't actually done it. What had he been doing, that when his sister heard about him meeting his brother she immediately assumed he had killed him? Here he was, assumed to have murdered someone he hadn't, but would have very much liked to. He was at once annoyed to the thousandth degree and somewhat amusedly blindsided by Nunnally's display of perceptiveness.

"No, I didn't. We met, as I said… we talked, and made peace."

The look of joy on Nunnally's face was immense, immeasurable, stretching beyond Lelouch's comprehension. He was never particularly versed in the emotions of joy, but Nunnally appeared like a perfect case study. But, as it dawned on her the other piece of news Lelouch had told her, fridge horror set in as she connected the dots.

"Oh god…"

"Now you understand. I… I'm so sorry."

He couldn't look at Nunnally. His face was buried in his shoulder, refusing to look at that which he had broken and could not be repaired. He wasn't sad at the passing, not having the capacity for reflection that entailed sadness, but furious, which seemed at this point to be his default negative emotion. It represented a personal failing, a black mark of something that should never have been etched into the girl's mind. No one should have to receive this news.

Which, thinking about it, was all part of the reason why he couldn't stop now even with Clovis dead.

His mind reengaged, gear by gear, winding back up to full capacity as one thought formed another. This was empathy, yes empathy was the word. The ability to take one's own suffering and apply it to other contexts, to other people, and understand them. While he was under no delusions of actually suffering when compared to the general population, he understood the general concept. No one ought to receive this news, which if the revolution were violent would happen at his doing.

Then again, his mind retorted, an argument from personal experience meant nothing. It was petty, Freudian at best. It was like those old villains who justified their atrocious actions by claiming childhood abuse, or the like. It seemed silly to Lelouch; one's actions should be defendable by logic, not personal background. It was not basis for anything, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound of fury, signifying nothing.

And yet he felt as he could glimpse an understanding of why they did it, and yet felt no empathy for them. His empathy was reserved for his sister, who he still refused to face, even as he accepted he owed her a further explanation.

"The thing is…"

She looked up at him.

".. we had actually worked out a plan..."

She moved her hand towards his, but he shook it off, resolving himself to continue. He couldn't see, but while this was good news, he doubted anything could cheer her up.

"... the people in the ghetto are rebelling. Violently. This is why we were trapped in Shinjuku. We found him, and made a plan. Nonviolent, of course… we will free them, and we can live in peace."

"It sounds dangerous."

"A lot less dangerous than his first plan. Still, it's going to be okay. This plan is designed so no one gets hurt."

"Thank you Suzaku, however you really need to choose your moments."

Lelouch, having turned away, hadn't seen Suzaku enter the room and interrupt his confessional. He nodded as he came into Lelouch's field of view, perpendicular to the line formed by Lelouch and Nunnally, as he said "You looked pretty stormy, I was worried you might do something rash."

"I did do something rash."

"Telling your sister that you intend to become the Japanese Lawrence of Arabia is many things, rash is not among them."

"Look to your left."

Suzaku pivoted, and spotted the broken shards of the flower pot. He almost chuckled, saying "It could be worse. At least you're venting healthily."

Lelouch could only stare at the Japanese teen at his definition of healthy.

After taking a bemused moment to observe the petty destruction, Suzaku turned back, and reassured Nunnally "It'll be okay, we're working together. We can't fail!"

This reassured her, and while she was obviously sad, she had hope. Lelouch couldn't help but crack a smile at Suzaku being able to persuade someone better than him, something the other teen noted, however Nunnally raised a final concern.

"What are you going to do now he's dead?"

This sent Lelouch and Suzaku into a brief pause, before Lelouch began to explain "He was going to fund us. The whole idea was improving their economic situation, but that takes material and labour, both of which are expensive."

"And now we can't get it."

They sat with downward pensive looks in silence for some time, before Lelouch saw realisation dawn in Suzaku's eyes, a flicker of life, a sparkle that so endeared Lelouch to his friend.

"Idea?"

Suzaku nodded.

"Y'know… they never technically confiscated the Kururugi estate."

This brief flash of genius quickly resulted in the pair standing outside the Kururugi shrine in proper finery, taking in the forest scenery for the last time with a hint of regret. Their boots pressed into the hard mud as surveyors estimated the value of the old fabric walls and sacred land of brown and green. The pair looked around, the dry air absorbing their uneasy upward glances into unending space. They were back, and only to see it pass into Britannian hands. It was truly a tragedy, the last legacy of Genbu Kururugi, being crawled over by Britannian surveyors, insects leeching off the wooden structure.

"How long has it been?" Suzaku asked as an aside, not turning his face away from the building he was selling off out of shame.

"I don't believe we've been back." Lelouch replied.

"That long? Ach…"

They stood in silence once more, signing forms and documents from a wooden table some way away from the Shrine, neither teen being particularly willing to return to the building proper. Genbu Kururugi was still alive, and though all his assets had been passed down as soon as he was imprisoned, the pair still felt that it was not theirs. Lelouch marked himself on the documents as Reuben Ashford, who was in no position to argue against their deal. While it was sad to see it go, both Lelouch and Suzaku knew they would likely have it back within the year. Still, on a symbolic level it felt wrong.

"You've made sure the Royal Family-"

"It's reasonably common knowledge you at least survived the war. Your name, let us not forget, as an Honourary Britannian, is on any public forum you care to browse. A son selling off the family estate for money is nothing that would draw curiosity. Britannians turned it into a pastime"

Suzaku had no reply, beyond looking at dirt, to which Lelouch couldn't blame him. This place held some depressing memories. After a while of the Britannian workers going about their measuring, they were left alone with a single official.

"Sign here."

As Lelouch did so, Suzaku chuckled. "What would Tohdoh have thought?"

A fair question, however his idea of what the man of miracles would have said was likely different to Suzaku's. He remembered Tohdoh as calm, rational, and pragmatic, willing to take one step backwards to move two forwards. Even in his closing words, his showed this in allowing them to leave.

Would Tohdoh have done this? He didn't know. Would he approve, if consulted? Lelouch thought so.

Even so, Lelouch moved forward to officiate the deal with a sense of confidence. Signing in his best penmanship, he turned to Suzaku and whispered "Here's what he'd have said. This is the counterattack. It will get worse before it gets better, but this is us sending our King into the fold. This is where the end begins."

He nodded, and as Lelouch stood up and looked back towards the sky, he sighed and whispered back, the beginnings of triumph showing on the edge of his lips, "Let's go home, Lelouch."

And so they did, several million dollars richer and with the first steps to deposing Britannia underway.

They made it home before nightfall, catching the train and lodging their earnings into Lelouch's bloated gambling account, and planned to call it a night before it was announced the execution of Clovis's murderer was about to take place. Both teens were curious to see who was responsible, and Ohgi wanted to associate more with his new comrades after days cooped up in the attic filing, and so they decided to watch it live together.

Falling onto their shared couch, a burgundy corduroy monstrosity Lelouch had been begging Suzaku to replace since they had moved into the annexe, however the Japanese teen had Nunnally on its side, who enjoyed its tactility. In any case, he grabbed a glass of water, and let the broadcast play, Suzaku and Ohgi sitting either side of him, the former anxious with anticipation and the latter at ill ease with a lack of familiarity to engaging the two in less formal manners. The announcer began to narrate the scene.

"Any moment. Any moment now. It's a sight to see… The throngs' lining the route… All of them waiting on bated breath. Waiting for the accused murderer of Prince Clovis to pass by… former Purist and Baroness, Villetta Nu."

Lelouch practically choked on his drink as the tanned woman was paraded onstage, and it was all he could do to not fall over in surprise. This was rubbish, a shot in the dark by what Lelouch now knew to be a justice system that was shooting into the dark. They didn't know who shot Clovis any more than he did. It disappointed Lelouch, who was looking forward to some justice even if it was dispensed by Britannia. Even so, Lelouch wanted to be sure, so he turned to Suzaku and asked "Did you not hand her over to the rebels?"

"They didn't want her, so I left her tied to a lamppost outside."

"Suzaku, what the hell?"

Suzaku didn't offer much of a reply beyond a murmur and a shrug, so Lelouch sat back and watched the show, shaking his head. Lelouch didn't buy this for one instant, but even buying into the hypothetical, he still did not want to intervene in Villetta's execution. While her heart, or the heart of whoever killed Clovis, he knew was likely in the right place, he had killed Lelouch's ally, which made him their enemy.

Or was that unfair? They had no way of knowing Clovis had been turned after all, and Lelouch himself had been within a fingers' twitch of killing him prior to Suzaku's intervention.

"Food for thought..." he whispered to nobody in particular as the procession moved along.

"Voices of scorn growing ever louder. Voices bearing testament to a people's love of their prince, raining their judgement down on a terrorist. The Former Acting Consul, Margrave Jeremiah, was indisposed, and so she was treated by a representative from the upcoming Viceroy, Cornelia Li Britannia."

This struck Lelouch. He remembered Jeremiah faintly, as being his tutor and the Head of the Guard to his mother who would not have skirted duty for the apocalypse. What the hell could he be doing that was more important at this time? He didn't say anything, but it stuck in his mind.

All of a sudden, a silence fell on the room, a tense anticipation of something they didn't exactly know of, a waiting for something they didn't know was coming. They were all waiting for something to happen on the long road to the gallows.

And as if on a wish, it stopped. Halted. It ceased to have velocity relative to the road. It was so sudden it took a moment for the commentator to recover.

"This is not a scheduled stop. Could there have been some sort of accident?"

"Now this is interesting…" Lelouch mused, as he leaned forward. Given the scripted nature of procedures such as these, there was something very wrong indicated by this most benign of stoppages.

And then they saw it, rising above the dip in the road like it was emerging into light from beneath water in all its glory, a deformed monster reaching out of the ooze of a midday haze in the depths of a midnight dusk. All three men sitting on the couch were gobsmacked.

"It's…"

"It's, it's Prince Clovis' personal transport! And it's heading straight for the cavalcade!"

Indeed it was, and it stunned each man on the couch into silence. Lelouch mentally conceded that whoever was behind this was very much his kind of person. And as the clownish vehicle became clear, the figure on top did likewise.

The masked suit was a deep purple with large black streaks and golden stripes and long, wrapped sleeves. It had a high, Victorian sweeping look to it, with folds within folds that drew the eye upwards towards the ovular mask, concentrated in an absorbing, terrifying orb that formed the visor. It made for a truly ominous figure, striking a vicious tone with a stark look and practical aura surrounding the figure. The crowd and announcers were silent, listening with rapt attention to the roars and bellows of the silent statue, standing stoically and stopping all movement wherever he could be seen.

"I am Zero."

And like that, the spell was broken. Instantly, the announcer returned from his trance, as did the soldier leading the execution procession.

"I've seen enough, Zero." she began, indignantly. "This little show of yours is over. First things first. Why don't you lose that mask?"

The masked figure in question did no such thing, rather gesturing backwards grandly, allowing the rear of the car to fall away, revealing the iron sphere from Shinjuku. All three men now all knew on some level what was happening. This Zero was likely affiliated with Ohgi's old group, and now they were bluffing the crowd, however none could work out why. Nu was a purist. If it were, say, Suzaku on the podium for arguments sake, it would make more sense. But this was like Smith in 1984; He fully understood the method, he couldn't work out the objective.

In any case, while they saw the bluff, the soldiers certainly didn't.

"You bastard!"

Zero weathered the insult, and Lelouch could imagine the individual smirking at the irony of the situation. The soldier heading the team groaned, before she continued her shouting with "Fine, what are your demands?"

"An exchange. This, for Nu."

"Absurd! She's charged with high treason for murdering a prince. I can't hand her-"

"Then let us amend this then! You are mistaken on many levels, but the first and most obvious is the fact that this bitch, while a murderer, is not the butcher of your Prince."

There was a pause, but then he continued. "That honour fell to me. Now unless you fancy joining him, hand her over."

This threw the soldier for a loop, and the mood in the Ashford annexe changed considerably. Lelouch's face turned from amusement to a fierce scowl, joined in lesser part by Suzaku. Ohgi turned to them, asking "What is it? Don't you want Britannia to fall?"

"I do. I want it more than I wish to draw another breath. Your question?"

"But… Zero killed Clovis-"

"Which is antithetical to the goal of destroying Britannia as we seek to go about it. And yet he seeks to free this Villetta."

It annoyed him on a personal level, this dissonance. While he appreciated style as much, if not more than the next person, there appeared to be no objective based thinking behind the act. Meanwhile, Zero seemed to answer Lelouch's question.

"Are you going to hesitate? Are you not going to live by your own backwards methods? Cow to the strong, mm? I am that which you aim for. You believe that you are justice, that your word is law and all of nature must bow to you. You are wrong. Justice is not something you can wield like a Knightmare or bend like the Earth; It is objective, static, and here represented by this canister. Clovis was a criminal, ordering genocide and extermination of the Japanese; this is why he died. This whore is most certainly a criminal, but convicted of the wrong crime. It is on this basis I will take her unto myself."

Lelouch's eyebrows were fixed into a scowl, but his mind was far more engaged than irritated. Zero was objective, he just used different metrics. The exchange was made, with Zero making a grand escape from the scene with Villetta, chased by guards and soldiers. But Lelouch was far too engaged by what Zero had said before. This was a curveball, a terrorist with focus and an awareness of how to snatch precious attention that was critical in winning the Long War.

This could prove interesting.

It should follow that this Zero will be very different in ideology and method than Lelouch!Zero. The focus will remain with our boys in Ashford of course, but it wouldn't be Code Geass without Zero. Well that and a lot of the plot from Chapters 16-20 would be made completely redundant, but you don't know that yet. Shhhh. There's quite a few other things I'd like to comment on as being interesting in my mind, but they represent significant spoilers, including why this Zero is the way this Zero is. But that's for another time. I hope to see you again next time on For Hearts And Minds, Chapter 6; Dubious Intent. Until then, be safe, be careful who you frame for murder, and please rate and review!

~Eth0