Good to see you guys again! I have part of the next chapter written, but otherwise I have pretty much nothing else for you. I just wanted to get this out because it's been a while, and you guys deserve some kind of update. And my gosh, is it an update.
As always, let me know what you think, be it yea, nay, good or bad, and everything in between. If you notice anything wrong, be sure to let me know and I'll strive to correct the record.
I do not own Code Geass.
…
Above the Amur River, Chinese Federation-Russian Federal Republic Border, April 2018
Major Kallen Kozuki, commander of the Zero Squadron and Zero's bodyguard, double checked the signatures on her digital map. A cursory survey of the terrain confirmed that the Russian Federal Army had dug in along the entirety of Heilongjiang's border. The Amur River which formed the natural barrier between China and Russia stretched east and west for almost two thousand miles. It emptied out into the Sea of Ohotsk to the east, but to the west it formed a crescent that allowed the defending Russian troops a natural salient from which they could fire on invaders from all sides. Though flat farmland stretched for miles behind them, beyond that were the mountains that made up the East Siberian Mountain Range, whose rugged terrain and daring heights damned any assault to exhaustive mountain fighting.
The thought of having to fight their way through those mountains made her blanch.
"I hope to God the negotiations are successful," she said.
Her communications blister beeped, indicating she was being hailed. She knew who it was before she accepted.
"K-1 to Q-1, K-1 to Q-1," a cool female voice intoned.
"Q-1, receiving," Kallen replied.
"We're preparing for final approach," the chilly voice on the other end reported.
"Copy, K-1. Assuming formation Beta-Delta. Fall in approach vector three-point-six and maintain ten-second distance."
"Will do. Out."
Kallen breathed a sigh of relief. She ran a hand through her spiked red hair, heart thundering within her ample bosom. "Well, that went well," she said aloud. "She said something other than 'harlot bitch.' Maybe things are improving?" She rubbed her blue eyes and sighed. "Who am I kidding? She hates me."
She leaned slightly into her bike mount, partially to relay her instructions to the rest of her flight, mostly to alleviate some of the pressure on her stomach. She had been getting stomach cramps and queasiness for a couple of weeks now, and a strong sense of nausea gripped her every time she climbed into the Guren's cockpit.
The Flight Enabled Knightmare, newly repaired since its near destruction during the Great Betrayal, coasted smoothly across the cloudless blue sky. As crimson as her hair, with an orange collar and blue camera 'eyes,' the hunched Knightmare Frame was unassuming at first glance; but when Kallen was behind the yoke, the ungainly hulk became a minuet of death, thanks to the autocannon mounted on its right wrist, and the Radiant Wave Surger that served as its left arm. When triggered, the silver claw emitted a sudden concentrated cone of radiation that could serve as either shield or sword, depending on the circumstances.
This weapon, and its pilot, was the undisputed trump card of the Order of the Black Knights, the military arm of the United States of Japan, and sword of the hero king, First Consul Zero, Emperor of Japan in all but name.
Another wave of nausea rose in her belly.
Not now! Kallen pleaded. Please, little one, not now!
"Major, enemy fighters closing in a two o' clock!" Lieutenant Benio Akagi reported.
"I see them," Kallen confirmed, shaking herself from her thoughts. "Do not fire unless fired upon. And don't call them the enemy. There's a good chance they're listening in on our transmissions. This is a peace summit, not a battlefield!"
"Copy!"
Let's just hope they realize that, Kallen thought.
…...
"They've deployed thousands of forward armor units," Lelouch Lamperouge said.
The teenager who bore the mask of Zero twirled a lock of his black hair around slender, dexterous fingers. He scanned his violet eyes over the tactical map pulled up on his computer instruments. A slight scowl creased his handsome aristocratic features, a quiet rumble issuing from his ivory throat.
"Targeting estimates put enemy Panzer-Hummel numbers somewhere around eleven hundred," he continued. "The rest is non-humanoid. Seems they're prepared for a defensive siege. The footage from the FLEIJA strikes did its job." He smirked. "They're scared."
"Of course they're scared," the woman who was his piloted scorned him with an almost audible eye roll. "Some maniac deployed a few weapons of mass destruction and slaughtered somewhere in the vicinity of twenty-five million people."
Lelouch's throat tightened. The triumphal glee turned to ash in his mouth. "I didn't have a choice," he repeated, to her or himself he didn't know.
"There is always a choice," C-Two retorted. The ivory-skinned, lime-haired beauty that was his former lover adjusted her grip on the yoke. He could see her amber eyes in the reflection on the Gawain's instrument screen, cold as the snows of Mount Fuji. "I seem to recall us coming back to this God forsaken era to lower our respective body counts, not launch them into outer space."
Lelouch sighed heavily. "Circumstance conspired against us, C-Two."
"And it was your responsibility to respond to them with a semblance of adult maturity, not adolescent fury!" She clenched the sticks in her hands. "I'm out of it for a little while, and you turn into a Heidlerite!"
Lelouch rubbed a hand across his brow, frustration building within him. They'd been having some variation of this conversation for going on three weeks, ever since her memory returned. Her account of her kidnapping by Mao, one of her contractors and Lelouch's immediate predecessor, assured him that the man wouldn't be coming back. However, it also underlined just how much the tightrope he'd been walking for the past seven months resulted from random chance. Had Mao not made his move when he did, bombing Ashford Academy just at the moment when an anti-Zero coup was in the works within the highest echelons of the Black Knights and Chinese Federation, Lelouch may have been able to head off the disaster the insane mind reader had left in his wake. That Area Eleven had been liberated, and Japan restored, was nothing short of a miracle.
C-Two had returned with her memories locked away, mind locked into her days in the Napoleonic Era, when she had been a Republican partisan and Napoleon's confidante and lover. Secretly, she had also come into contact with Lelouch's parents, Emperor Charles zi Britannia and Empress Marianne vi Britannia, and together orchestrated his near downfall in the wastes of India. Fortunately, they'd had some luck: the amnesiac girl had fallen in love with him, and helped him flee from the closing trap. In the following days, they'd been able to defeat the rebels in China proper, and had captured V-Two, Lelouch's Immortal uncle. He had been consigned to the darkest depths of the Marianne Trench in the Pacific Ocean, never to darken the world stage again.
Afterward, as Lelouch had prepared to execute her, C-Two's memories had returned.
She'd wasted no time in lambasting nearly every decision he'd made since her disappearance.
"Do you have any idea how much fighting Tohdoh and his damned JLF set me back?" Lelouch had demanded when C-Two excoriated him for executing the rebel chief. "Tens of thousands were killed in the fighting, I was forced to destroy much of Tokyo to crush his invasion, and we've only just now concluded the civil war here in China. The damage that man and his followers did is incalculable."
"Lelouch," C-Two had retorted, rubbing her temple, "you had Tohdoh's pregnant lover in captivity, and his top general at your mercy, correct?"
"Yes," he answered, already not liking where this was going.
"So your genius solution to the rebellion in Japan was to throw away the best commander the Black Knights had, yourself of course excepted, instead of holding his lover and unborn child hostage to ensure his loyalty?"
Lelouch blanched. "I, well, that is…" He coughed. "That is to say-"
"You were so childish that you let your anger cloud your judgment and removed a vital piece from the board?"
Lelouch shuffled uncomfortably.
C-Two had pinched her nose. "You...You...Moron!"
As rough as being castigated by her for something that should have been obvious at the time, the sheer look of betrayal on her face when he told her about Kallen had been devastating. Her eyes had widened, her nostrils flared; but then she closed off completely. Her attitude around him was now icy silence, a state he found worse than any fury she could have directed at him.
"I won't apologize for eliminating as many of my enemies as efficiently as possible," Lelouch said, steeling himself.
C-Two grunted. "I know. Given the situation, it was the only play you had." She snapped her head back and forth. "Dammit! Damn you, Mao! Whatever Hell you're in, I hope it's hot!"
Lelouch didn't say anything. As much as she'd been lambasting him for his decision making during her condition, Mao was getting the worst of her vitriol.
"Q-1 to K-1," the comm blister chirped. "Q-1 to K-1, acknowledge."
"K-1 to Q-1, receiving," C-Two said coldly.
"Detecting movement among the Russian forces behind the firing line," Kallen reported. "Requesting permission to assume defensive formation."
"Denied," Lelouch said. "If they were going to fire, they would have five minutes ago, when we passed our outer defensive ring. Maintain course."
"Copy."
Despite his admonition, Lelouch surveyed the order of battle. With the civil war in China won, it appeared that the Russians were preparing to cross the river and launch an invasion of the Chinese homeland. The decision hadn't made sense, to Lelouch or to the other members of his alliance. The defection of a high ranking rebel general in the Chinese Army made the situation much clearer. The Eunuchs had sold large tracts of land to the Russian Federation in exchange for extra Sakuradite. It made sense that the Russians, seeing their investment about to go up in flames, had decided to collect from a, supposedly, much weakened Tianzi. The transmission of footage of the FLEIJA's destructive capacity must have cooled their appetite for conquest.
For the time being, anyway.
To that end, the Russians had elected to use the river border as a natural anchor, and to take the following three weeks of uneasy peace as an opportunity to pour more troops and materiel into the battlespace. Lelouch spotted no less than a dozen AA batteries and SAM launchers, and those were likely the ones the Russians wanted him to see. Hundreds of aircraft dotted the sky, an assortment of fighters and fighter-bombers at higher altitudes, and just as many attack helicopters and gunships at lower.
Facing them across the river was what could dubiously be called the full might of the Federation-Black Knight Alliance: thousands of tanks, armored cars, machine guns, half of which dated back to the First Pacific War; hundreds of Gun-Ru's and Burai's operating with maybe twenty percent of their Sakuradite compliment; fighter craft with parts cannibalized from the wreckage of jets and bombers that dotted the Chinese landscape. All of it was manned by troops who had been bussed in in a flurry, exhausted and hungry, most still recovering from the fratricidal bloodletting of only a month ago.
The only unit Lelouch had complete confidence in was the two hundred Akatsuki's that made up the Black Knights' air fleet, under the command of General Kousetsu Urabe, late of the Japan Liberation Front, and one of only two of the high-ranking traitors from the Japanese Civil War that Lelouch had spared.
But one air fleet isn't enough to win a war. I could burn my way through them with just the Gawain and the Akatsuki's, and I still wouldn't be able to take the Russians. Air power only gets you so far. There's no way we could win a protracted ground war. And we simply don't have the time!
Lelouch clenched his fist.
His eyes burned.
…
Russian-Chinese-Japanese Summit
The Lady Kaguya Sumeragi, dual head of the Sumeragi Consortium and the Six Houses of Kyoto, stood at stiffest attention as the aerial Knightmare Fortress Gawain descended to the Allied party. Wind rustled silky strands of her black hair into her green eyes that the fourteen year-old brushed aside with dignified impatience. The sleeves and hem of her ceremonial robes rippled as she did so, casting the white cloth pauldrons against the pink of her kimono. The bottom of her lips, colored red with an expensive dye, stung from where her white teeth had worried at it for the past week.
She and the rest of the Alliance peace delegation stood beneath a red tent canopy trimmed with gold frills, the kind one might see at a Renaissance festival, or a red-top circus. Kaguya was half convinced it had come from one or the other; everything about this conference was slapdash and rushed. It was nestled on a flat plain of moist grassland that she could already feel staining her dark pink tabis.
Joining her as the Japanese representatives were Naomi Inoue, Director of Intelligence for the USJ, and Tohru Yoshida, newly promoted Second Consul of the same. On the Chinese side were General Hong Gu, Deputy Commander of the Armed Forces of the Chinese Federation, and General Zhou Xianglin, personal aide-de-camp to Supreme Commander Li Xingke, who hovered somewhere above them in an Akatsuki, awaiting the rebuilding or replacement of the scrap metal that was the Shen-Hu. Twin columns of dark uniformed Black Knights and olive uniformed Federation troops framed their party on either flank, at crisp attention.
Kaguya glanced up at the gray sky. Dark clouds drifted through the air, threatening to drop their heavy load all over the participants. She restrained a scowl.
Would that it would shit or get off the pot!
Her hands were in her sleeves, hands clenched tightly.
The Russians hadn't arrived yet. Their pavilion, a blue-white-red canopy not unlike their own, stood proudly just twenty yards across from them, where diplomats in expensive suits and heavily armed soldiers faced the alliance down with cold, stony expressions; but the Prime Minister of the Russian Federation had thus far failed to make an appearance. Lord Zero, apprised of the situation, circled about overhead, his hovering presence at once open threat and olive branch.
There are too many important members of the Alliance high command here to discount a group assassination attempt, Kaguya mused. Given how Mister Kruschev came to power, it is not impossible to countenance such a maneuver.
The minutes ticked by. Sweat rolled down Kaguya's back. The Gawain continued to circle above them, its mighty Hadron Cannons cold comfort against the knowledge they would likely only be fired after Kaguya and the others were dead.
"Where is this asshole?" Yoshida mumbled beside her. "The meeting was supposed to begin twenty minutes ago. Inoue, you said he was on the way, right?"
The blue-haired woman nodded ever so slightly. "Aerial recon has him just fifteen minutes away. I don't know what he's waiting on."
"Maybe his next bowel movement?" Yoshida suggested. Inoue snickered.
Kaguya bit the side of her mouth until she drew blood. She drew her hands before her lips to baffle the lip readers that were assuredly across from them. "It's a power play, you fools," she interjected, moving her lips the barest amount, voice as low as possible. "Lord Zero must land eventually in order to begin the summit, and Kruschev must exit his vehicle to meet him. The question at this point is 'Who is waiting on whom?' The longer Lord Zero has to wait at the table, the more he appears the plaintiff, and the more powerful Kruschev appears. The vice versa is true as well. Did neither one of you read my diplomatic cables before you arrived?"
"Of course we did!" Inoue shot back. "Along with a hundred other reports about hardware, force position, unit composition, area terrain, and a whole host of other information."
"More important information," Yoshida added. "This whole thing's going to go to shit anyway, may as well-"
"Not one more word, idiots!" Kaguya snapped, louder than intended. "Do not give them any indication we intend for war! None!"
We cannot afford it! she thought but didn't speak.
Whole swathes of the European continent were crushed under the bloody jackboot of the Holy Britannian Empire. What was left of the European Union was split with internal divisions and ruptured in nationalistic civil wars that burned throughout Eastern Europe. To do battle with the Russian Federation was to potentially declare war on what remained of Europe.
It may even unite all of Europe in opposition to Asia.
What better way for the fading Euros to survive the Imperial onslaught then by turning their aggressor into their rescuer? The nightmare was too potent to dismiss out of hand. Beloved, even as brilliant as you are, we cannot face down the entire world!
A Black Knight approached Kaguya, leaned down, and murmured, "Lord Zero has begun his final approach, My Lady."
Then he is tired of playing these games. "Thank you, Captain," she said politely.
The Gawain descended from its almighty perch atop the heavens, arms outstretched, legs stiffened in a T-pose. As it neared the ground, a ray of sunshine broke through the gray overcast, alighting upon the black and gold Knightmare fortress. Kaguya had to shield her eyes against the sudden brightness. When she could bring them down, her heart skipped a beat.
The Gawain was already kneeling, arm crossed over its chassis, hand held palm up to enable the man they called "Dark Lord of the Orient" to stand atop it with ease. Zero's black cape flapped in the wind, his violet form-fitting Victorian era suit rippling with the breeze, his black and gold glass mask fitting his head as well as any crown. As he dismounted, mechanical fingers extended from each of Gawain's hands, forming a golden staircase that flowed to the soggy earth below.
My Master, my Prince, my only love. Kaguya knew she was blushing. The dark mood that had gripped her in its thrall dissipated as his long legs brought the square-shouldered revolutionary leader that had plunged the whole of Asia into war forward to make peace.
"Lady Sumeragi," he said upon his arrival, the hard, metallic voice sending shivers down Kaguya's spine, "you are well met. I trust the journey was pleasant?"
Kaguya bowed. "As any under these circumstances can be, My Lord."
"Well, this problem will be resolved shortly, I think," Zero assured her. "One way or the other, we shall have peace." He glanced up at the other members of the welcome party. "Second Consul Yoshida, Director Inoue, it's good to see you both again."
Both recipients bowed. "Likewise, First Consul," Yoshida said, straightening up.
"First Consul," Inoue agreed with her own bow.
"And how is my former cohort, Ohgi?" Zero asked. "I pray he is recovering?"
Yoshida nodded. "Quite speedily. The doctors believe the lack of stress is hastening his recovery."
"Excellent. Most excellent. It was my opinion we had little to fear. I'm glad to see I was right."
"Yes, your wisdom is beyond compare," Inoue said. "We are glad to trust in it to the exclusion of all else.
Kaguya smiled. I should hope so, you backstabbing baboons!
Zero, her Prince, had taken her into his confidence about how the Black Knight leadership had very nearly staged a coup against him, of which former Second Consul Kaname Ohgi was the chief participant. The man had gone so far as to come to China itself and pull a pistol on their leader, only for Zero in his mercy to merely strip the man of his office and send him home to recover from previously sustained wounds. Kaguya's fury had been explosive, even after Zero had explained their reasoning.
Geass, the Power of Kings. A supernatural ability that allowed him to control the minds of others. The revelation of this ability had caused a number of puzzle pieces to click into place for Kaguya; it readily explained his swift rise to power, and the many contacts and traitors he'd had positioned in the Britannian Occupation government during the Rebellion.
Yet she did not fear this power. She knew who she was, and she knew who he was, and she knew that he would never use that power on them without cause. Freedom was Zero's ultimate aim; an army of slaves would be anathema to him. Such was his aversion to the power that it would only be used here, on the Russian Prime Minister, as a last resort. Her heart belonged to him, and it was freely given.
Besides which, there were limits to his power. He required direct eye contact for it to take effect, and he could only use it once per person. To that end, Kaguya had been supplied with a pair of special contact lenses to prevent him from dominating her mind.
Lenses which, she noted, have not been given to them.
Zero did not trust them, and rightfully so. Were there anyone capable, the Black Knight leadership would already have been purged. At least one member of their staff had already been arrested as a traitor, and a member of the Zero Squadron had likewise been ousted as a spy. That one, sadly, had escaped during the Battle of Xinjiang, but Kaguya was certain his punishment was soon in coming.
"I am hardly the wisest among us," Zero said, chuckling. The sound was hollow, hard, and it made the two would-be traitors cringe. He gestured to the pavilion. "Shall we commence the proceedings?"
Kaugya bowed demurely. "My Lord, Prime Minister Kruschev has yet to arrive. We are awaiting his arrival to begin."
Zero waved his hand. "That is no excuse to merely be standing here. We have friends who await us on the other side. Come, let us go break bread with our Russian friends."
Kaguya fell in line beside him, and the rest of the delegation joined him in lockstep at a prearranged signal. As one, they marched across the no man's land.
…
The Gawain's Cockpit
C-Two stared down at the viewscreen, heart beating a frantic tattoo. Zero sat at the negotiating table, speaking with a Russian diplomat with a leisurely air. He had relaxed into the seat, crossed one leg, and was even now gently causing a glass of wine to spin in his hand. Every so often he would go to "take a sip," only to then begin talking about something else with someone else at the table. The grim faces around the table, on both sides, were gradually relaxing, and several of the diplomats were beginning to chuckle at him.
That's right. Make them laugh. Laughter is a human response. It can be controlled, but every man has his limit. Let them relax. Let them think waiting is no big deal. You are the First Consul of Japan, the Emperor of Britannia, the Dark Lord of the Orient. You have no equal. All is according to your design.
They would still be circling the field had Lelouch not come up with the idea and run it by her. It was inspired: defuse the situation by making it a joke. Show that Russian ape how little the man who ruled Asia cared for his games. Turn Kruschev's tardiness into a clown show.
Your persona is ridiculous. Everything about you is a mockery of Britannia. Your name. Your dress. The Black Knights. All of it a twisted, harlequin impersonation of the land you so despise. Lean into it. That is your strength. Use it.
It was working. Some of the Russians were beginning to look uncomfortable; they sent furtive glances around, some trying to see around the column of surrounding soldiers, becoming more and more embarrassed the longer Zero sat there.
Come out now, Kruschev, you are no fox. Ulyanov and Jugashvilli had your number. You are a crude instrument, nothing more.
As if at her command, the crowd parted, and a black limousine pulled into place. It came to a swift stop, and out exited a pudgy balding man in a three piece blue and white-striped suit that looked more expensive than the car itself. His expression was low and moody, and he pushed a pair of thick glasses with black frames over a broad, flat nose.
Glasses. Damn.
There was a chance the geass wouldn't work through the thick lenses, especially not with how dark they were. She zoomed in with the camera, cursed again.
Bandages underneath.
"Zero, you will have to forgive me," the heavyset man sniffed as he arrived. "I spent yesterday getting corrective eye surgery, couldn't be helped, put it off for too long as it was." He laughed. "I'm afraid I kept giving the driver bad directions. Perhaps a blind man should not be steering a car, eh?" He reached out a hand.
Zero stood, setting his glass of untouched wine down with a flair. "To the contrary, a blind man should drive every car, and every bus, too. What's life without a little excitement?"
Those gathered around him laughed, Kruschev loudest of all. "I like this man!" he barked, pointing a fat finger at Zero as he continued to shake his hand. "I like him! Very funny!" His face reddened, his grin turning just so. "And such a strong grip!" His meaty hand crushed Zero's slender one in a painful-looking grip. "So strong! Appropriate for world conquerors, eh?"
Zero laughed. C-Two hoped she was the only one who could hear the strain in it. "I have not conquered the world just yet, Prime Minister!" He waved a finger from his free hand. "But do give me time!"
Loud laughter again, and more shaking of hands, and then Kruschev suddenly let go. He kicked one of the chairs out from under the table and plopped down into it, not bothering with sitting down on what should have been his side.
"Come, come, sit my friend, sit! We are friends, yes? Yes! And we have much to discuss, as friends, behaving as we should in a friendly way, yes?"
"Too right you are," Zero replied easily. "This is a friendly atmosphere, a friendly day, good for friendships old and new."
"I need a drink!" Kruschev declared. "A drink! For myself, and for my friend!" Everyone in the crowd except Zero froze. "Yes, yes! Drinks, yes! Drinks, and we will be merry, and we will see how friendly we can be!"
One of the Russian diplomats looked back and forth.
"Go with it," C-Two whispered into the comm blister. Zero was wearing a transceiver in his ear; a necessary discretion. There was every chance the Russians were back-channeling with the Empire; they may have been under strict orders to kill the entire delegation were she sighted openly.
"Well?" Zero demanded of the diplomat, surprising everyone there. "My friend is waiting."
"At once," the diplomat said.
"You will like this," Kruschev promised, patting Zero on the knee. "Freshly brewed, ice cold, best distiller in Moscow, bar none!"
"I would expect nothing less from my friend," Zero assured him.
Kruschev was moving in ways C-Two hadn't quite anticipated. Perhaps he is less Jughasvilli's brute than I first thought.
During the German Rebellions of the Late War Period, Kruschev had been tapped as the Commissar of the Sixth Army during the Siege of Kyiv, in western Ukraine. The battle had been a disaster for the Russians: of an army of six hundred thousand, less than a third had escaped the encirclement enacted by the German Army. C-Two had not been there at the time, but she had heard it was this action that convinced Jughashvilli to perform his Great Purge, of which Kruschev was a vocal supporter. It only made sense; the Purge resulted in the deaths of his political rivals, and just about anyone that could testify as to his involvement in the Ukrainian debacle.
She had written him off as a thug, but clearly there was more to the man than that.
….
The Negotiating Table
"You need to take control of the situation," C-Two said. "You're too much on the backfoot."
I know that, Lelouch thought. He had already had to wait on the man. He was supplicant here, for all intents and purposes. His allies were the ones who needed this meeting, and Krustchev clearly knew that. The Russians could afford to retreat into the vast interior. The Black Knights could not afford to chase them.
If I could just get him to take off those bandages…
The vodka bottle was brought to them posthaste, alongside a pair of glasses. The liquor was poured in steady streams into both. Krustchev snatched his glass off the table, sloshing his drink over the sides, while Lelouch lifted his with a deft hand. They raised their glasses in a toast.
"To friendship!" Krustchev said.
"To friendship!" Lelouch agreed.
They held their glasses opposing one another, neither moving to drink.
"What is this, my friend?" Krustchev asked, his tone bewildered. "Will you not drink?" Before Lelouch could respond, he smacked the table. "Ah! But of course! You cannot drink with that silly mask on! Take it off my friend! Drink, drink!"
"I'm afraid I will have to decline," Lelouch replied, holding the glass off to the side.
Krustchev leaned back, his hand to his chest, as if wounded. "But we are friends, Zero, friends!" He narrowed his eyes. "We are friends, aren't we?"
"We are," Lelouch confirmed.
"But you do not drink! My friends, when we are together, we drink. Come! Let us drink."
"I find intoxication does little to improve diplomacy," Lelouch said.
"Nonsense! It is when we are drunk that we show who we really are. It is when we discover who our true friends are." He leered at Lelouch. "I would hate to think we weren't friends."
"No one cared who I was till I put on the mask," Lelouch retorted. "I was faceless, anonymous, aimless. I was no one and nothing. I am still no one and nothing."
Krustchev waved a hand dismissively. "What a silly statement. You are Zero. Or at least, you claim to be Zero. After all…" He smirked. "Without a face, it is impossible to know who it is I'm speaking to. Impossible to know if it is indeed my friend."
Lelouch shrugged. "Fair enough. I suppose I should give you something in the interest of friendship. My name is Takeshi Nagata."
Lelouch sensed Inoue and Yoshida stiffening behind him.
Krustchev snorted. "I find that hard to belie-"
"It's also Naoto Kozuki," Lelouch interrupted. He heard a strangled noise from one of his ministers behind him. "And Genbu Kururugi."
Krustchev's cheek twitched. "Zero, I do not know-"
"And Haru Mikazuki," Lelouch continued. "And Honda Masataka. And Clyde Barker. And Daisy Driver. And Nina Einstein." His throat tightened. "I am every person who has given their life in the name of freedom in this war. I am a revenant, an agent of justice, and I carry their wishes within me." He poured out his glass onto the ground. "To the honored dead."
Krustchev sighed. "If you will not take this seriously, Zero," he said, standing up, "then I see no further reason to continue this conversation."
"How regrettable," Lelouch said. "To think that a man so wise as yourself would willingly miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime." He shook his head. "How tragic."
"And what tragedy would that be, Zero?"
"To remake the world in our image."
Krustchev pursed his lips. Curiosity got the better of him. He sat back down. "Do elaborate."
Lelouch tapped the table. "The world as we knew it is gone," he began. "Utterly destroyed. Europe is splintered, fragmented. It will never be united again. Britannia, for all its gains, is a shadow of its former self. Rebellion rocks its colonies. Its colonial empire is faltering. And now, they are bogged down on the Rhine River, unable to cross into Central Europe. It's only a matter of time before they run out of fuel locally. And then their armored war machine will collapse in on itself."
Krustchev waved his hand. "We have heard similar things before, Zero, before the Imperials swept through France and Albion."
"France and Albion are the last of their easy territorial conquests," Lelouch retorted. "They cannot consolidate their gains and make a broad offensive push into the rest of Europe. That they have allowed the Balkans independence demonstrates their own realization of operational shortages. Britannia will fall. It is inevitable." He crossed his hands. "What remains to be seen is who will profit from its collapse."
"I assume Japan and China are two such beneficiaries?"
Lelouch nodded. "Naturally," he agreed. "But they need not be the only ones. When Napoleon strove to make an Empire, it was Russia where his ambitions faltered. When the Germans sought dominion over Europe, it was the Russians who bore the brunt of their onslaught while the West dithered and bickered. It is the East that has risen in defiance of the colonial masters who seek to subjugate the world entire." He purred, "Why shouldn't the Slavs take their rightful place under the sun?"
Krustchev rubbed his chin. "So what, then, is it that you are proposing?"
"A New Order. One based in the united hegemony of the greater Eastern Powers. A peace secured by the industrial might of China, the grain fields of Russia, and the Sakuradite mines of Japan. Three World Empires, united by common purpose, that will define the affairs of men for centuries to come."
Krustchev hummed. "What of the land we purchased with our Sakuradite?" he asked. "Can we not expect the Federation to honor it?"
"Would you honor a thieves' sale of your family jewels?" Lelouch riposted. "But I understand. There is a sunk cost risk at play. You don't want to give something for nothing, and this can be mollified." He smirked. "It is my understanding that several of the Balkan states have thrown their lot in with Britannia, against even their Slavic brethren to the north and east." His grin grew wide. "Did they even consult you when they made their betrayal apparent?"
Krustchev's face colored red. "No. No they did not."
"Well, then I'm sure we three Great Powers can come to terms that will satisfy the purchasing power of your Sakuradite sales, and mete out righteous justice to the wicked.
"All you have to do, my dear Nikita, is say one word:
"Yes."
….
Dining Hall, Presidential Suite, Le Grand Boxeur Hotel, Paris, Unincorporated Area Twenty-Six
Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald sat uncomfortably at the far end of a long table. The table sat in a large dining room lined with white walls, golden banisters, and portraits of the Royal Family, reaching all the way back to Queen Victoria. The table was piled high with rich foodstuffs: turkeys and hams, stuffing and bowls of gravy, sweet potatoes, squash, all served together with a motley mix of wines and liquors for the eclectic tastes of the men and women that sat to eat.
Jeremiah sat at the right hand of Lord Shin Hyuga Shaing, the Grandmaster of the Holy Order of Michael. It was not a position he desired, but Shaing had forced his hand. At Shaing's left was the Princess, Her Highness Nunnally vi Britannia, darling younger sister of Jeremiah's true master, His Highness Lelouch vi Britannia, who even now was carving out his Empire in the East.
None at the dinner knew that she was Nunnally, of course. Such information would have likely resulted in her imprisonment or death. Instead, she dined under the identity of Joanna Brumine, Jeremiah's niece by his sister back home in Britannia, come to spend quality time with her dear uncle on an exciting adventure. Her blonde hair had been dyed jet black, but her cornflower blue eyes had been left alone. She was waifish, owing to her crippling at the hands of the same assassins that murdered her mother, the Empress Marianne vi Britannia, and her trauma had rendered her blind for much of her life, until she fought her way back to sight. Her maid and caretaker, a pretty Japanese brunette named Sayoko Shinozaki, stood behind her, hands clasped before her, sharp gaze leaving nothing to chance that might endanger her charge.
At the head of the table sat Grand Duke Augusta Henry Highland, the leader of Euro Britannia. He looked like something out of a history book; his Victorian style dress consisted of a near entirely white ensemble, broken only by gold trimmings, epaulets, and filigree down his back, and a purple vest and sash, while his dark gray hair was tied into a loose ponytail that wouldn't have looked out of place during Washington's Rebellion. He had a mustache and goatee that resembled a Guy Fawkes mask, and his blue eyes were cold and serious.
Fitting, given that the topic of tonight's conversation was treason.
"I can have twenty thousand mobilized in Chartres," Highland said, dabbing at his mustache with a cloth napkin. "If we can get the other Grandmasters onboard, that will bring another fifty thousand between them in Amiens and Antwerp."
"That isn't very much," Jeremiah said, frowning. "There are easily a million troops throughout Occupied Europe, a quarter of that in France alone. We won't be able to hold anything with just seventy thousand spread across multiple countries."
"Not necessarily," Highland retorted. "Most of that number is grossly inflated, counting as it does the logistics networks necessary to maintain the frontline. By my own estimates, we're looking at no more than two hundred thousand fighting men, all of which will be needed to hold the line against the EU."
"A line that will necessarily collapse, once we go into revolt," Shaing said. "We mean to rise to preserve the gains made, not lose them. To act in this way would incite civil war on the continent, one we could not win."
"And lose Europe besides," Jeremiah added.
"The key problem is numbers," Shaing said. "Too many sons and daughters of noble lineage were snuffed out on the banks of the Rhine. Most of the replacements will be commoners, with no greater claim than the shop at the end of their street in Britannia proper."
Highland spread his hands. "This coup was never going to be easy, gentlemen. I believe we all understood this. But taking control of these key sectors does give us leverage."
"Leverage for what?" Jeremiah demanded.
"For concessions."
"We do not rise for concessions," Jeremiah rejected. "His Majesty must be overthrown, for our own survival if nothing else. He will never accept imposed limits, certainly not those achieved at the business end of a gun. His Highness Lelouch is the only one who can see our gains realized."
"His Highness is on the far side of the world. He is hardly in a position to assist. That isn't even mentioning the fact that surveillance shows the Russians have mobilized all along the Chinese borders. He will have to plow through them before he gets anywhere near us." Highland rubbed his chin. "I am fully supportive of House vi Britannia, but we must work with what we have. After the Rhine, frankly, that isn't much."
"It is enough," Shaing said. He meshed his hands before him. "What if we instead took the logistics network itself hostage? Make the supply lines contingent upon their loyalty to us? In that case, we would only have to hold a few strategic locations, making exacting use of our current force disposition."
"That sounds like just the sort of thing to enrage and embitter those who would otherwise be our allies," Highland retorted.
"Promises of title and position will be sufficient to mollify them," Jeremiah countered.
"And those not satisfied can always be eliminated," Shaing said. "What matters most is depriving the Emperor of his bargaining chips. Europe is ours, to be bartered and negotiated as we see fit."
"Let us also not forget that His Highness controls Area Eleven," Jeremiah said. "The Sakuradite mines at Mount Fuji will, in time, become our greatest bargaining chip."
"Assuming His Highness is able to link up with us anytime soon," Highland said. He raised a hand to forestall any more argument. "You have said your piece. Let me think on it. We will enjoy the rest of our meal and resume the conversation at a later time."
Jeremiah and Shaing nodded their agreement.
…
Two Rivers Hotel, Hegang, Chinese Federation
Lelouch ran his hand down Kallen's back, and gave her naked butt cheek a gentle squeeze. Her skin shimmered with sweat, and the thin bedsheets stank of it. She glanced up at him from beneath her matted hair, satisfied smile beaming from a tired face.
"Feeling better?" he asked. "I heard you had to visit the infirmary earlier."
Kallen nodded. "Yeah," she sighed, quiet. "The doctor said it had something to do with a stomach bug making the rounds. Should be right as rain in a few days."
Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "That mean I was risking wearing your lunch a few minutes ago?"
Kallen blushed. "Only if I'd stayed on top," she retorted, embarrassed.
She sat up, drew the bedsheet up to cover her breasts. Lelouch drank in the sight of her for just a moment before he turned away, allowing her her modesty. She was grateful for it; whatever coquettish airs she put on, she didn't think she'd ever not be flustered by his unguarded gaze on her naked skin.
He stood from the bed, stretched, and padded over to a small desk just a few feet from the bed. A laptop sat on it, along with a few envelopes and files scattered across the desktop. He leaned over a cheap plastic rolling chair, and Kallen watched the way his buttocks moved atop his long, ivory legs.
Lelouch could be, charitably, called wiry, or perhaps even thin, but the blunt truth was that he was scrawny. There was barely any muscle on him, and his aversion to physical activity had been legendary back at Ashford, their long fallen school. Both of them had skipped their PE classes, but whereas Kallen had done so to mask her athletic physique, which would have exposed the sick girl persona she adopted at school, Lelouch had simply lazed about on the roof, or gone into the Tokyo Settlement with their friend Rivalz to gamble on chess matches.
Kallen had asked him about that once, after their third night together, when Lelouch had been more breathless afterward than she.
"My mind is my muscle," he'd said, his chest still heaving. "I'll never be a great Knightmare pilot, nor will I ever win a foot race. I knew that when I was ten and couldn't even carry Nunnally on my back. Why waste time and effort on something I will only ever be middling at, when I can focus on what my actual strength is?"
"Well," she'd responded at the time, her cheeks flushing, "you'd be up for round two right about now."
He had grinned mischievously, a smile that set her heart to flight, and his hand had slid up the inside of her thigh till her legs clenched when he reached her petals. "Whose to say I'm not?"
His stamina has definitely gotten better, Kallen thought, absently running a hand over her belly.
Lelouch brought his laptop online, suddenly illuminating the otherwise dark room. He clicked a couple of times with a detached mouse, then slid into the rolling chair and clasped a hand to his chin.
"What are you reading?" Kallen asked.
"Fenette's latest report," Lelouch answered. "He's having to repair several neural pathways in the left hemisphere."
Kallen paled. "Did...Did we?"
Lelouch nodded. "Most likely," he confirmed. "According to Mister Fenette, the baseline repairs on Shirley's brain had been accomplished when V-Two rushed the job and forced her into the field." He grunted angrily. "Healed just enough to function as a puppet, but stopped just short of independence."
Shirley referred to their dear friend, Shirley Fenette, a beautiful girl with orange hair and green eyes, their classmate and onetime fellow Student Council member. When the Ashford Festival was bombed last year by a geass using terrorist named Mao, Shirley had been struck in the skull by debris and rendered brain dead. Her parents had vanished with her, ostensibly fleeing to the Homeland to try their luck with Britannian doctors, but apparently her father, Joseph, was a high ranking scientist within the Geass Order, and it was to there that he had absconded with his daughter's body. What happened to Shirley's mother, neither Lelouch nor Kallen knew, but the next time they had seen their friend, her body had become the puppet of the Immortal V-Two, who had used advanced technology to control her body through thought patterns and pilot the Knightmare Fortress Siegfried.
Kallen and Lelouch had dueled the Siegfried in the skies above India and defeated it, only to discover Shirley's body inside.
I almost killed her.
Kallen shrank in on herself.
I almost killed her.
Just like Nina.
Nina was another friend, lost to them now. During the Great Betrayal in India, Nina had been kidnapped by Geass Order infiltrators led by the traitor Rai Sumeragi, formerly of the Zero Squadron and top man on Kallen's personal hit list. Her kidnapper had succeeded in stealing one of the FLEIJA warheads, designed by Nina herself and a larger version of the HADIS implosion device used during the Liberation, that was later used to turn the tide in China against the Rebels. To prevent the Geass Order from absconding with both weapon and designer, Kallen had been ordered by Lelouch to open fire on the truck carrying both. The FLEIJA was recovered intact; Nina was left behind to rot in the desert sands, her neck broken by the ensuing wreck.
Kallen had been on radio standby while Lelouch negotiated with the Russians. Hearing Nina's name mentioned among those who had died caused her belly to squeeze painfully.
I'm so sorry, Nina, Kallen silently whispered. Her eyes grew wet. I'm so, so sorry.
Warm hands cupped Kallen's cheeks, snapping her from her guilt. Lelouch was kneeling before her, his expression gentle.
"It wasn't our fault, Kallen," he whispered. "We couldn't have known."
She nodded, swallowed heavily. "I know," she murmured. I just don't believe it.
Lelouch kissed her forehead, then her nose, and her lips, and she returned it desperately so that she could forget her sins. The bedsheet fell from her fingers, and Lelouch turned her on her back. He kissed down her chin, under her jaw as her neck arched, the hollow of her throat, down into the valley of her breasts, his hands pulling her legs up until they rested on his shoulders and she relaxed into the mattress, anticipating the moment when his lips would-
"Kallen, what's this?"
Her head shot up, fear blasting away the curl of arousal that had been snaking its way around her.
Lelouch's fingers ran over her belly, rising almost imperceptibly over the slight bump on her navel. He looked up at her, and the wonder in his eyes did little to soothe the rising panic in her heart.
"Is this…"
Hesitantly, she nodded.
….
Louise Capet Hotel, Versailles, Paris, Unincorporated Area Twenty-Six
"Uncle, is the situation really so dangerous?" Nunnally vi Britannia asked her brother's Knight.
After the evening meal with the other conspirators, Nunnally and her Knightly cohort had retired to the Gottwald apartment. Three stories tall, it had once been a lavish hotel built in the gothic style that catered to an exclusive clientele of the rich and famous. The Gottwald's occupied the Presidential Suite on the third floor, a multi room condo expensively decorated to an almost garish degree, with its own kitchen suite and washing machine system housed in unit.
"I'm afraid it is, Joanna," Sir Gottwald confirmed. He sat in a lush purple seat across from her, his booted heel resting on an ottoman. A cigar burned in his hand. "We lost many good men, irreplaceable equipment, and resources that grow more scant by the day. Though I disagree with the Grand Duke, I cannot fault his logic."
"There is little I understand," Nunnally said. "I'm just a girl of fourteen. I know little of the ways of war and politics. Would it really be so bad to simply force His Majesty to make concessions?"
Sir Gottwald shook his head. "Not if I intend to seat His Highness upon the Throne."
"But I worry for you!" Nunnally protested. She looked around the room. "For all of you! This is so dangerous! You could all be hurt!" She turned to the man who held her hand, and batted her eyelashes at him. "Why must you do something so dangerous?"
The man in question, Sir Ashley Ashra, flushed beneath her worried gaze. He was a handsome man, with long fiery orange hair pulled into a side braid, and blood red eyes that matched the equally red surcoat he wore over a white sleeveless blouse and dark brown pants. He was a member of the Holy Order of Michael, in charge of its Ashra Strike Force. His split eyebrows tended toward cruelty and battle lust, but they softened visibly whenever Nunnally so much as glanced in his direction.
Ashra coughed into his fist. "I-That is, well-" he coughed again. "It's necessary to secure our inheritance, JoJo. Without forcing the Emperor to the negotiating table, he's like to turn our ancient fiefdoms back over to these blasted Revolutionaries."
What a stupid nickname. Nunnally put forth a worried frown. "But His Majesty doesn't have a track record of negotiation," she pointed out. "Why, he even sent his own children to Area Eleven as hostages, then invaded anyway. How can you be sure you could trust such a man?"
"Um, well-"
Nunnally clasped Ashra's hand in both her own. "Is it not as likely that he will simply deceive you to get what he wishes, then eliminate you afterward?"
"J-JoJo-"
Nunnally brought his hand to her cheek, rubbing it over her smooth skin. "I could not bear it, Ashley! If something were to happen to you, I don't know what I would do!"
Ashra swallowed openly. Nunnally fought the urge to roll her eyes.
This is pathetic.
The man's open infatuation was enough to make her physically ill.
At least some of this has to be an act, right? He can't be this oblivious.
The man had been courting her for going on a month now. He had rescued her during the rebellion that had taken place after the Battle of the Rhine, but Nunnally didn't appreciate it in the slightest. Ashra was blackmailing her brother's Knight with information that could lead to Lord Shaing turning on them, all so that he could seduce her. Nunnally was only going along with it to build ties within the Order in the event they gained the opportunity to bring Shaing down. As soon as Ashra was no longer useful, he would be cut loose.
With extreme prejudice.
Ashra coughed again. "May I be left alone with Joanna?" he asked of Sir Gottwald and Sayoko.
Sir Gottwald stiffened. "I do not think-"
"Please, Uncle," Nunnally stopped him. "Nothing untoward will happen, will it Ashley?"
Ashra nodded. "Absolutely."
Nunnally shot Sir Gottwald a look that brooked no debate. He sighed.
"Very well," he said. He stood from his seat, gave Ashra a warning jab of his finger. "You had better be on your best behavior."
"You can count on it," Ashra said, but his eyes were only for Nunnally.
Once both had left the room, Ashra leaned forward. "JoJo, I know-"
Nunnally reached out, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him longingly on the mouth. He grunted with surprise, then with pleasure as she pressed herself against him. His mouth opened to deepen the kiss, so Nunnally responded in kind, and shortly she was no longer in her seat, but instead was in his lap, and her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.
When they pulled away to catch their breath, Nunnally breathed against his lips, "I cannot lose you, Ashley. Not now, not ever. Promise me."
Ashra nodded. "On my honor, JoJo. I promise."
Nunnally shook her head. She ran her hand through his hair. "On your love for me, Ashley. Promise on your love for me."
He nodded frantically. "On my love, I promise. You will not lose me."
His lips searched for hers again, but a female cough startled him back.
Sayoko glared at him crossly. "I believe it's time you took your leave, Sir Ashra," she said. Her hand was behind her back, and Nunnally knew she was hiding a knife.
Ashra shot her an angry glare. "Who asked you, Elev-"
Nunnally silenced him with a kiss. She whispered, "You had best leave, Ashley." She grinned impishly at him. "Before I am grounded."
He blushed deeply, matching her smile with one of his own. "R-Right, JoJo. I'll, uh, I'll see you, um…" He screwed up his eyes as he visibly tried to think. "I'll...get back to you on that."
Ashra set her back in her wheelchair, gave her a deep bow, and exited for the door.
Nunnally waited a few minutes after the lock had clicked into place. With a scowl, she wiped her mouth off on her sleeve.
"Sayoko," she said, "mouthwash, please. There is a foul taste in my mouth."
…
Hegang General Hospital, Hegang, Chinese Federation
"How long did she know?" C-Two asked.
"A couple of weeks," Lelouch replied. "She told the doctor not to say anything."
The two stood on the other side of an observation window, watching as Kallen was poked and prodded and various tests were performed. The examination was being done on Lelouch's orders, over the objections of the red-haired beauty who had been swapped from her Black Knight uniform into a pink hospital gown.
C-Two hummed. She wore an ankle length black surcoat, the silver crane insignia of the Black Knights stitched across the torso that split into four twin tails from the waist down, the tips bordered by gold, bound at the waist with a burgundy sash, and a pair of white short shorts beneath that exposed her long white legs. White high-heeled boots with gold knees and toes rode up the length of her thigh, and gold bordering and buttons lined the high black collar that reached to her jaw. Her lime hair cascaded freely down her back. Her arms, wrapped in free black sleeves tied off with burgundy bands, were crossed over her chest.
"I see," she said. "So, when did you know?"
"An hour before she did," Lelouch answered. He wore his full Zero garb, his voice unreadable beneath the metallic tone emitting from his helm. "I couldn't confront her about it without letting her know I was keeping tabs on her."
"She won't be going anywhere near the battlefield for at least the next nine months," C-Two noted. She looked over at him, raised an eyebrow. "Your plan seems to have worked."
"That sounds suspiciously like approval," Lelouch remarked. "I recall you being very much against it."
"I was against it because there was the very real possibility we were going to have to plow through the Russians to get into Europe proper," C-Two reminded him. "The agreement you signed with Krustchev changes things immeasurably."
From the way Lelouch had explained it, he'd come up with this latest hair-brained scheme the night he and Kallen first made love. Geassing her hadn't kept her away, and he'd never be able to order her from the field. Kallen was ready to die for him.
But turning those protective instincts inward, toward their child? Ah, that would keep her on the sidelines.
Kallen would stay off the battlefield of her own volition now. She would never endanger herself for Lelouch's sake again. Not when she now carried the child of the man she loved.
Kallen glanced up from the doctors and waved gingerly at them. Her entire bearing bespoke a mixture of glee and guilt.
"You know, Lelouch," C-Two said dryly, "you may be just about the most manipulative bastard I've ever met."
Lelouch chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said. His left hand twitched.
C-Two glanced at it. "Did it move again?" she asked.
Lelouch peeled back his glove and sleeve, then rolled them back up. "Yes," he confirmed.
"Makes sense. Shamna's did the same thing. It probably has to do with it being a Fragment."
When Lelouch prepared to execute the amnesiac C-Two, he had first made to take her Code, both as punishment for betrayal, and mercy for love. C-Two's memories had returned, a consequence of a kiss born of lost love, and Lelouch had immediately halted the process. The result was that C-Two retained her Code, her ability to make Contracts, and her Immortality; evidently, it also meant that Lelouch had taken some small Fragment of that Code.
How much of her power he had, they didn't know. They had committed injury to his body, first shallow cuts, then deep stabs, and all had healed within minutes; whether that meant he was immortal, they didn't know and had no intention of testing anytime soon. It was possible Lelouch would retain his youthful appearance, and even live for a longer time than most, before perishing many years down the line. It was equally possible that he would live forever, but unable to pass on a Code, and thus condemned to walk the Earth until the end of time.
Kallen was wheeled out of the room across from them, to be taken to a private area where she could change back into her uniform.
C-Two reached out for Lelouch's wrist, took it in her hand, and pulled the glove off. She pressed soft kisses to his spidery fingers.
"I love you, Lelouch," she said, brushing her lips across his knuckles. "I will never stop." She reached up and with a snap-hiss, pulled his helm from his head. She kissed him on the lips, her heart jolting when he returned it eagerly. "You are mine," she murmured against his lips. She pulled back, her eyes soft. "But I will loan you to her, for a time. She deserves to be happy, and I pray she will be. But when her time is done, I will draw you to my side again. Forever."
Lelouch took his helmet from her, and slid his glove back on. "This geass," he rumbled from beneath the mask of Zero, "I will accept."
….
Throne Room, Beijing, The Forbidden City, Chinese Federation
Upon a high-backed throne of plush red velvet, wreathed with the dueling visages of golden dragons, sat the Tianzi, Divine Empress of the Chinese Federation. White hair twisted and wrapped in an elaborate style framed red eyes set in porcelain skin. She wore white, red, and gold raiment, and her hands were concealed together in the long sleeves.
Spread out before her in the spacious throne room were a hundred courtiers, those who had held true to their oaths as the Federation descended into civil war. Lined up in perfect columns facing each other, they formed a human hallway as Zero and Krusctchev strode toward her.
Li Xingke's lips tightened imperceptibly. At twenty-four, he was handsome. He wore his long black hair loose and free to tumble down over his brown eyes which, even now, glared severely at the two men that approached his Empress. He wore a short blue over shirt atop a long white tunic with slits cut out for his legs, silk black pants and brown leather boots, and a red sash on which was belted his sword. The sword was not ceremonial in nature. When the rebellion first broke out in the Forbidden City, he had used it to cut down one of the traitorous High Eunuchs, the oligarchs who had once been the true power behind the throne, and then to slay all those attempting to prevent Her Majesty's escape. As the foremost loyalist among the Tianzi's followers, he had been granted Supreme Command over the armies of the Federation, a position he used to great effect in the conquest of many rebel strongholds prior to the arrival of Zero and his Black Knights. In his position he had watched with horror as the devastating firepower of the FLEIJA's were unleashed on his own people.
Unleashed on her orders, he thought sadly. Empress, what have we done to you?
Xingke had been forced by the High Eunuchs into a coup against his Empress. They had discovered his and Zero's plot to overthrow them, so to protect his liege lord, Xingke had betrayed her into their hands. Even now, the mark of treason that the Tianzi had burned into his flesh stung. It had been treated just enough so as to not allow for infection, but he would bear the ugly scar for the rest of his life.
For however long that will be. He swallowed hard, fighting back a cough. The taste of blood was in his mouth.
His doctor gave him four months. The Empress didn't know.
She had enough trouble on her plate.
"Your Majesty," Zero called out, "I bring you tidings of joy!"
Xingke stepped forward. "You are well met!" he announced. "As is the Prime Minister of our noble neighbors to the north! Prime Minister Krustchev, the Tianzi welcomes you to China!"
Krustchev smiled. "It is my honor," he said, bowing his head just slightly. "I have had words with your negotiators. What they tell me is promising."
"Of what do we speak, First Consul Zero?" Xingke asked.
"Of new beginnings," Zero replied. "Of a New Order." The man clasped his hands behind his back, pacing around in an arc before their audience. "The West is flaccid, and weak. Even as we speak, the Holy Britannian Empire tramples their ancient traditions, their storied past. The might of the European democracies is laid bare, and it is empty. Men with empty chests rule, and there is much misery."
"Then the East must rise," Xingke said, "and rescue the people from their kings. All must be brought Under Heaven."
"Then here we propose this," Zero announced with a flourish. "A protective sphere that will surround the Eurasian landmass, joining together the Great Powers of this supercontinent. A sphere for the prosperity of the peoples of the East, for the Empires of China, Russia, and Japan, that shall swell until it encompasses the whole of the earth. And it shall be called the Greater Eurasian Co-Prosperity Sphere!"
"No longer will the West threaten our peoples," Krustchev said, taking up his place in the script. "No longer shall we live in fear of the Colossus of the Americas, nor the last dregs of the Revolution. From this day forth, let us secure ourselves to this Moscow-Tokyo-Beijing belt, and with cinched, we shall put an end to the colonizers and imperialists that taint our sacred shores."
"So it is said," Xingke said, "so shall it be. Her Divine Majesty, the Tianzi, declares her intent: all shall be brought under the auspices of Heaven!"
"ALL UNDER HEAVEN!" the courtiers shouted. "ALL UNDER HEAVEN! ALL UNDER HEAVEN!"
And may Heaven forgive us for what we are about to do.