Chapter Forty Five: No Rest For The Wicked
Arc Twelve: Downfall
Opening: "World End" - Flow
The surreal rubble that littered the vague, broken streets that were once valleys of straight edged concrete and steel seemed as otherworldly as it was endless. Outside the immediate blast radius, itself seeming to be borne of a bastardised idea of a black hole, carved on the centre of the city in a perfect sphere, the shockwaves of air escaping the vast heat of the central detonation had rended down whole buildings and tore up the brickwork of central Tokyo, as if to provide some temporary resting place for the poor souls who were unlucky.
But someone had to collect their bodies left behind, a toll for having stayed alive.
Euphemia Li Britannia had rushed for Tokyo as soon as she heard the news. She had always sought to help others, and now had the agency to do so. She left as soon as the dawn broke to catch the first bus into the city, having packed a rucksack of supplies overnight. Before she had left, she had checked on Suzaku, sat alone in a dark room watching 24 hour news.
"You've got a few missed calls from a Rivalz Cardemonde, he sounded pretty desperate…"
Suzaku ignored her, and she sighed. This behaviour was nothing new.
"I'm going to help." she had explained, though she again earned no response beyond a bitter "Damned Lelouch…"
He wasn't going to be of use. She had to help by herself, something reinforced by the lonely bus ride to Tokyo, with the bus driver visibly surprised by someone travelling towards the capital rather than fleeing the destruction. He even went as far as to quiz her before letting her on the trip through anonymous farmland and mountainside towards the city, towering and imposing as it always had been but decidedly deader today, even in the neglected suburbs, ignored by the FLEIJA's wake of bizarre, smooth, terrifying destruction worthy of science fiction.
It took a while for the grey empty towers to give way to hints of destruction, starting with makeshift hospitals stiffed into the back of vans, and vast lorries shuttling boulders out of the city centre, Euphemia's bus moving alone towards the heart of the city, shrouded by a mist of dust, that with proximity grew to harsh pebbles that threatened all but the hardest of tyres, to boulders, to chaos. At first, it seemed to appearances like a minor disturbance based on the quantity of aid workers, however the density of medical stations and shelters increased by an order of magnitude as the bus approached what was once the business district.
The bus stopped some ways before the apex of the chaos, unable to travel further due to the deteriorating road conditions. Thanking her driver, Euphemia stepped out onto the haunted streets, ready to help.
Fortunately, rescue operations were short on manpower, and were enthusiastic for any aid that presented itself. As a potential heir to the Empire of Britannia, she had been taught skills in first aid and communications that she could put to good use.
"Okay, can you handle Yaraichō street? We think there's a few people trapped in rubble, as it runs perpendicular to the blast radius. We have a team down there now, but they're understaffed."
"That's putting it mildly." remarked an assistant, busy hauling barrels of water, before the lead woman continued "You've got supplies, just take a radio for if you get lost. Good luck."
The radio turned out to be a blessing, as what had once been familiar streets had become rows of rubble segregated by taller piles of rubble that proved as challenging to navigate as they were to travel. It took her ten minutes to arrive at her street, two perpendicular to the edge of the massive, flawless sphere of emptiness created by the bomb. People caught on this street would have been lucky, but it would take a great deal more than luck for them to survive much longer.
After meeting up with the beleaguered team, Euphemia set to work with great haste, searching through the mass of rock for bodies, signalling them out to the rest of the team so they could lift any obstructions together. The work was laborious and taxing, requiring a lot of manoeuvring around and heavy lifting, combined with spontaneous moments of rushing to fetch life support equipment if they were lucky, and body bags if they were not.
They were not lucky very often.
This cycle of adrenaline and exhaustion saw her through four lunches by the time the sun was setting for the day. The bodies had racked up, with chances dwindling as the people trapped under rubble were forced to wait longer and longer.
"Ma'am, we're pitching a tent!"
"Very good Kuki, I just want to finish this section over here!"
She was met with a nod as the distant aid worker went to attend to food, as Euphemia went to finish off her cordon. She nearly got off scot free, until a familiar smell rose up as she approached the last boulder like bugs scurrying out of a shaded place. Her heart sank, as it seemed likely that she would be proven unlucky again.
A peek confirmed her worst fears, and outmatched them. Killed, likely instantly by the pair of structural pipes falling cleanly through his back like a knife into butter, lay the body of Unionist leader and long time friend of Euphemia, Claudio Darlton, arms laid out ahead of his face down body as if he was reaching ahead in his last moments.
"One more here, he's dead!"
An awareness of there being no hope to save his life, as well as a lack thereof of the fact that Euphemia knew Claudio extremely well, meant that the workers took their time freeing the Britannian soldier turned politician from his piped prison, laying him among the other dead bodies, to be sorted at an indefinite later date, though they all made it back to their tents by sundown. Euphemia was glad of the break, as she doubted she could have continued without time to pause.
She was neither a fool nor a sociopath. She felt untold empathy for everybody she came across, and believed that she ought to be as concerned for all of them, as they all had stories and families and lives, and to put one over another was cruel and selfish. And so as she lay down, silently mourning Claudio after knowing him for years as a spirited, kind young man with a heart of gold, realising she was crying, she could only acknowledge how unfair she was being. She wanted to love everyone, but sometimes it was just so difficult in the face of her overwhelming immediate emotions based on personal connections.
Hoping to at least do something productive in her grief, she fetched her phone and dialled the second number on her personal contacts to contact Darlton via her sister Cornelia.
The phone took a while to connect over the Pacific, and then some more time for it to acknowledge that she was not a spy, but eventually the line cleared.
"Hello?" she spoke into the silence, before there was an eventual answer.
"This is Ciaran Forsyth speaking, who is this?"
"Hello Ciaran, it's Euphemia, I was hoping I could speak with Cornelia." she replied.
"Hey Euphie, it's been too long! I'll put you right on, she's coming back now."
Ciaran's positive attitude had always made him incessantly likeable, which lightened the mood somewhat before Cornelia arrived on the line with the concern of a parent.
"Oh, Euphie, thank heavens you're alright! When I saw the news, I was so worried about you, after I heard the news-"
"Cornelia, I'm fine." Euphemia interrupted.
The Princess caught on to her younger sister's tone quickly, and asked "Are you… alright? You don't sound…"
Euphemia sighed, noting the slight reversal as she explained formally "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Claudio Darlton was killed in the destruction following the bombing of Tokyo. He did not suffer, and his body was preserved."
Cornelia paused, before swearing vehemently and shouting over the line "I knew it! Goddamnit, I knew he shouldn't have done it! What a fool! What a bloody disaster."
Euphemia sighed as Cornelia wore herself out of breath with angry ranting at the flaws in Schneizel's doctrine of immediate gratification. It took some time for her to calm to allow Euphemia to continue.
"I would appreciate it if you passed this information onto his father Andreas whenever you deem appropriate. I'm sorry."
Her professional duty done, Euphemia took a moment to breathe, as her phone-side front began to fade, her hands trembling. She felt a vast urge to apologise to Cornelia for her failure to save Claudio, as absurd as that was on all faces of it. Her desire to comfort Cornelia and Andreas was met with only frustration at her inability to do so.
"I'm… so sorry…"
Euphemia began to cry at her helplessness, but she quickly felt the comforting hand of her sister reach across the ocean and stroke her shoulder.
"It's okay. It wasn't your fault, you didn't kill him. Where are you now?"
Euphemia took a moment to breathe again, grateful for her sisters reassurance, and explained "I'm helping the rescue effort. I couldn't sit around all day long just waiting for news."
Cornelia sighed. "And that's how you found him. You'll never change Euphie."
There was a silence on the line, as if both parties were reluctant to say more for fear of harming their beautiful, rare harmony.
Euphemia was pleased that her sister was proving as loving as she had ever been to her a reassuring presence. However, in the back of her mind there was the memories that proved that live and empathy did not extend far beyond her own family.
"We-"
"I-"
They halted each other in their speeches, each somewhat hesitant to begin at all and in no hurry to again now that awkwardness had set in. It took some time for Cornelia to speak up.
"At least you're alright. I'll let Andreas know. Thank you-"
"Wait!"
Cornelia paused again as Euphemia spoke up to her elder sister. Euphemia did not enjoy leveraging her sisters one weakness, but if it was her way of ensuring that all the dead, not just those she knew, would enjoy some form of consolation from her deeds, then so be it.
"Wait a moment, Cornelia. This whole affair cut quite close, and I can only ask you as a person in power why it occurred? I could well have died myself. Is brother Schneizel that callous?"
Euphemia was not naive. Of course he was. To be so childish to have not realized that would be stupid, and to assume that someone else was so childish was characteristic of the credulous Cornelia. However, having helped Cornelia with the bid for the Imperial throne, Euphemia was also aware of the wedge between Cornelia and Schneizel. If she could amplify it by forcing Cornelia to acknowledge how wrong deploying the FLEIJA had been, she could force Schneizel to end the war due to internal pressure, or possibly face Cornelia's wrath. It was all she could do.
Cornelia, assuming wrongly Euphemia was still innocent and without agenda, didn't see the trap for what it was, and answered too honestly.
"I don't know. Schneizel and I don't agree on everything. This issue is one of those. You remember, don't you?"
The one downside of Cornelia's affection was her inevitable trait of speaking down to Euphemia even as the younger Princess was well into her twenties, assuming Euphemia was foolish and politically inane, however she brushed this demeaning aspect aside and commented "But that isn't a small issue. Thousands have died, and I was nearly one of them. You acknowledge it was to no end, so why put up with such a waste of noncombatant life?"
Cornelia was evidently persuaded somewhat by this line of reasoning, particularly Euphemia's manipulative appeal to Cornelia's concern for her younger sisters safety, but it would take another push for her to act against Schneizel's madness.
"Please just think it over. For me. I think you know what is right."
The General still seemed uncertain, but Euphemia was confident that she had at the very least planted the thought in Cornelia. After another pause, Euphemia asked "Will that be all?"
"Euphie…" her sister began, before seeming to sigh, and continue with greater resolve "Let Guilford know. I know we weren't on the best of terms, and he and Claudio had grown antagonistic, but they had been close before, and he deserves to know."
"I'm not sure-"
"Euphemia." Cornelia interrupted, voice harshening with insistence. "He is our first line of communications with the Japanese government. If I have to lobby our politicians, you have to lobby yours."
Euphemia sighed. "All right. I'll talk soon."
Hanging up, the pink haired woman shook her head before calling her former Knight, thoroughly displeased over the prospect of sending another person close to her into mourning. But she knew she had to.
"Hello? Madam Euphemia?"
She took a deep breath as Guilford addressed her in his usual deference that even now put her off. After a moment, she finally began.
"Hey, Guilford."
"Are you a-"
"Guilford, I'm fine." Euphemia replied, before realising that she was being brittle in repeating herself after talking with Cornelia and being unfair to Guilford, who couldn't have known. She apologised immediately before Guilford could even react, citing a stressed day.
Guilford verbally waved it off, replying "Haven't we all. I've been from pillar to post trying to work out what's been happening. So much of our infrastructure is gone. It's a catastrophe."
"So many dead…"
Guilford, likely realising how his perspectived comment sounded in light of how many people had died, backed off, and said "Absolutely, yes. It's horrid. Right in the middle of a population centre, I can't believe it. So many people lost."
"The thing is-" Euphemia began, before stopping herself briefly. She was about to seriously go against her brother Lelouch, who in spite of recent events Euphemia still believed to be sound of heart. He had been unnecessarily harsh in his treatment of Suzaku, but he had his reasons for doing so. However, no matter what they were, Euphemia knew the truth of the results of his reasoning, and whether he was sound of heart or not, his war had to end.
However, it was not that simple. Guilford had a job to do managing the repair operations and keeping the lines of communications open to prevent more people from dying. Did she want to burden him with knowledge of one individual death that might hamper his valuable work?
But then, how valuable could the work be if people would just continue to die if or when the next bomb came? Guilford had followed Lelouch as much as any cabinet member, excepting Ohgi, and this was where they had wound up. Some perspective could do him some good, even if it did cause him pain.
"The thing is, I was just calling from the rescue effort. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Claudio Darlton is among the dead. I… I know you didn't get on but I… I thought you should know."
The line was silent, and after a while Euphemia had to affirm he was still there with a querying "Hello?"
"Yes, yes madam, one... moment."
So even after such divisions Guilford still cared about his close friends son. Euphemia was both pleased about the affirmations this made about her personal views of Guilford and the ability of people in general to forgive, but the fact that it took a death to affirm this rendered the whole exercise sour at best, and morbid at worst. She had maliciously inflicted a wound, and was aware of it, but she couldn't stop now.
"Guilford, you know this has to stop."
The man paused again, for a different reason then before. She could almost see him scratch the back of his head for an out, muttering the beginnings of "I have to… er-"
"Guilford."
He sighed, and told the truth, explaining "Madam, I cannot. I have a duty to President Lamperouge, as I once had a duty to you. I need to follow it through to the best of my abilities."
Euphemia sighed. He was telling the truth, it was at least trying to. He had always had a hang up about his personal duty, a distinctly Britannian trait, but Euphemia knew for a fact it had its limits.
"What about Mt. Fuji? Was that the best of your abilities?"
Guilford paused as the memory of that event returned to his consciousness, the time where he disobeyed orders in the face of a massive population of civilians. He mumbled, trying to find his feet through his jumbled words, but Euphemia cut him off aggressively.
"Don't act like this is different. Innocent people are dying en masse, and while you do not hold the trigger like before, you have the ability to stop the bullets. The question is are you going to be consistent, or will you allow Lelouch to sacrifice innocent lives like my sister once wanted to?"
Euphemia now felt hopelessly hollow. In her quest to end the fighting and offer the dead some peace of mind, she was disowning and condemning her own living family with every breath. As she went on, she began to feel herself welling up as she indicted the people who meant the most to her in pursuit of the greater good. There had never been anything more central to Euphemia than the bonds of family, and now she voluntarily shredded them to convince someone else to go what she wanted. She would abandon them, throw them under a bus, for the sake of the many thousands of dead. She began to feel sick as she continued to speak in vehement opposition of the brother she loved for his past, and despised for his present.
"If you do, don't ever forget them, because believe me, is down at the aid sites and I promise they will not forget you, and nor shall I. Do not forget why I chose you to help me back then. You showed courage. I need you to show it one more time."
She finished her plea and fell to a sitting position, thoroughly worn by her own passionate ranting. She felt breathless and alone, having forsaken almost everyone she held dear for her ends. Those ends may be good, but those methods were still contrary to Euphemia's view of the world, and it felt wracked for her efforts.
Still, at least Guilford was salvageable, as he responded "I understand. I'll be sure to… bear all that in mind when making decisions. I promise that to you, my Princess. I will."
Euphemia smiled even as she cried. He would keep that promise. She had forsaken many people close to her in her pursuit of the broader good, but, as she moved to hang up, she realised she had not in fact forsaken every single one of them.
"Guilford, if I could just ask one more thing, have you talked to Suzaku?"
If you're having trouble filling out space for your writing, or you feel like a scene is missing some dimension, present a choice to a character under some sort of duress. It combines drama with character growth, something Euphemia was in some need of at this point. She's older now, and has had to make some tough decisions that will impact the story up to the end, though many of the people affected by it would be surprised to learn that the chain of events that follows began here.
Incidentally, I guess I'm not above a little interfic textuality. Nightbringer24, as well as some of the more obvious examples on this site, were big inspirations for this fic and its general environment, and now that I'm winding down it feels proper to thank them for providing some inspiration for the atmosphere and approach I've taken over the course of the story.
But it isn't over yet, for even as the old Gods pass on they leave a mark on their former domain. To see if the rope shall be cut, come back for Chapter 47, Götterdämmerung. In the intervening time, rate, review, stay safe and find help for your troubled close ones.
~Eth0