"The Imposter Prince?" Shirley echoed, desperately playing stupid as she tried to understand the situation before her. He couldn't possibly mean killing her Lelouch. He had done nothing to deserve something like this.
To suggest something like this was treason!
Lord Charmant's smile dimmed, the wrinkles in his face turning his expression severe. "Who else, but Lelouch Lamperouge? He is no prince."
She twisted to glare at Caspian who had forced her to walk into this trap. He might have been a noble, but he was her classmate. How could he do something so vile?
Sure, Lelouch had said he would be a target, yet this was beyond her imagination. If such unpleasantness were to happen, it would come from the Elevens. Or his siblings.
The nobles were oath sworn to follow the Emperor's will.
"The Emperor—" she began.
Lord Charmant huffed. "—is an old man. He has made a mistake."
She gaped. "You can't just—"
"Can't just what?" Lord Charmant sank into an elaborately adorned armchair, swinging one leg over the other. He leaned back with a yawn. "Say the Emperor is wrong, my dear? But I did."
"Well, you can't! That's treason!"
"What is treason is allowing an unqualified, unproven nobody to sit on that throne. How can we even be sure he is the Emperor's son? His mother was a whore."
She flushed. Such foul words did not belong in his mouth of perfectly aligned teeth.
Caspian's domineering hand settled on her shoulder, and he pushed her towards a stiff wooden chair. "Come on, he hurt you. I know he did. He hurts everyone around him. Someone like that shouldn't be the Emperor, and you can help us. You'll be seen as a hero."
"A girl with your bearings," Lord Charmant added, "would most certainly earn a title for special services."
"As a lady," Caspian eagerly added, "there would be no more need to hopelessly pine after a boy."
"You're wrong."
Caspian's warm breath tickled her ear. "I would have never neglected you so terribly. I would have no qualms taking you out on a date, and showing you how a girl should be treated. He's hurt you for so long."
She bit her lower lip and bunched her skirt in her hands. "Do you think I am stupid?"
"Of course not," Lord Charmant assured. "We need you. We are offering you a way to come out of this as a winner instead of a loser. You are not stupid; you know he is a slacker and so much more."
He was a terrorist. He had killed her father.
A heartbroken sob escaped her even as her resolve firmed. "He might be a liar, but he's also my friend!"
"My dear, he is a prince. Princes do not have friends."
She glowered. "Then you do not know him at all."
"Have it your way, if you insist. It seems you will not be escaping this unscathed." Lord Charmant rose in a single fluid motion. He did not have the bearing of any noble at Ashford. His easy grace reminded her of Lelouch.
Who was this man?
He prowled around her, each step measured and displaying his absolute dominance. "You hope he still loves you, don't you?"
No. Yes. How could she desire his affection when he killed her father?
"So let us do a little test. If he loves you, he will come for you." His finger trailed down her cheek. "Is this not what your little teenage heart desires? To know what your paramour truly thinks of you."
Caspian grunted. "He won't come, my lord. I thought you said you would convince her."
"Patience, my boy. Patience. The Emperor has set quite the trap, but we will turn it against him."
A note of trepidation entered his voice. "And how will you do that?"
"You will see. For now…" He whipped out his phone. "Say cheese."
The flash blinded her.
"And send! A gentleman always sends a calling card. Are you not curious, sweetie? Will he respond? Or will he leave you here to rot. If he does, maybe he is true royalty after all."
She hugged herself as a shudder ran down her spine. He was right; she wanted to know. A few weeks ago, she would have had no doubts. Now, she knew he was a liar, in more ways than one.
Were they truly friends?
"Ah Caspian, better hurry. Our friends are going to have to be let in."
Bismarck held back his smile of glee as Cornelia glowered at her sister and the kneeling Eleven, having just been appraised of their indecent conduct. Her face was rapidly becoming flushed.
"Major Kururugi," she snapped. "Is that how you repay my generosity?"
The Eleven stared resolutely at the floor, his voice despondent. "No, Your Highness."
"Nelly!" Euphemia whined. "He did nothing wrong! You know that! I wouldn't let anyone—"
"Enough, Euphemia!" Cornelia shouted. "Have I truly raised such a fool? If this were to get out, do you know what the rumors would say? For you to defend him like this— You are only making the situation worse!"
Euphemia humphed, hands on her hips. "I don't care! He doesn't deserve this just because he is an Eleven. He saved your life!"
"Which is the only reason I don't blow off his traitorous head right now!"
Bismarck raised an impressed eyebrow. The boy hadn't even flinched at that statement. He had an impressive degree of self-control.
"And to willfully ignore a direct order from the Knight of One—" She clutched her face. "What is behind such impudence?"
"Lelouch asked me!" Euphemia shouted. "He's going to be the Emperor, so I should listen to him, right? And arresting Suzaku was stupid! He didn't do anything wrong."
Bismarck scowled. "He disobeyed my orders."
"Because he wanted to protect Lelouch!" Tears streaked down her cheeks. "How could you take from him the one person who would risk everything to protect him!"
Cornelia crossed her arms. "An Eleven is not appropriate as a guard."
"He's an Honorary Britannian!" Euphemia shouted. "And he's Lelouch's best friend."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not. Tell them Suzaku!'
The Eleven tensed. "I am not qualified to make such a statement, Your Highness."
"Agh!" She stomped her foot. "This is stupid. Lelouch asked me to help so that should be enough. He didn't even want you to arrest Suzaku in the first place."
"The Crown Prince does not outrank the Knight of One!" Cornelia shouted.
Bismarck sighed as their argument lost all coherence. He should not be here. For all the brat's faults, Lelouch had proven himself wily. He would undoubtedly take advantage of his absence from the school to wreck some havoc.
If anything went wrong, it would be on Bismarck's head.
What did Charles see in a Number loving brat like him anyway? Bismarck narrowed his eyes at the Eleven. And what was it about him that compelled royals to such extreme lengths?
Zero's debut had been to save Kururugi, after all. Now, Euphemia appeared to be in love with him.
"So what if I marry him!" Euphemia screamed. "It's my life!"
The boy flushed, pressing his forehead against the ground as if it could swallow him whole.
"I will take him from here," Bismarck interrupted as Cornelia brandished her sword. "I have questions for him. Discipline your sister."
Cornelia winced, lowering her arm. "Yes, sir. I apologize for this. Someone—" She grabbed her sister by the back of her dress. "—has been taking their freedom too far. I was neglectful."
"Your mother was," Bismarck said. "She should have taken her daughter's education in hand, not left it entirely to you. You have other responsibilities, and your split attention has not been helping."
Her eyes raged. "I will capture Zero! You have my word, sir."
He resisted the urge to snort. If she did, there would be an entirely new set of problems.
The Eleven's fingers dug into the carpet, breaking the proper posture. If they were such close friends, did he know the truth? Had he betrayed Britannia already?
Bismarck kicked him in the stomach, ignoring Euphemia's scream, and grabbed his hair. "You have much to explain, Eleven."
The boy didn't struggle in his grasp or attempt to defend himself. He did not utter a word. Pathetic.
Even for a Number, to be so bereft of courage was utterly shameful. One had to fight, not cower and depend on others' scraps of mercy for survival.
"Viceroy!" A soldier rushed into the room. His eyes widened as he caught sight of him, visibly struggling to choose who to face. He snapped to attention. "Sir Waldstein! Ashford Academy—"
What dimwitted scheme had the boy pulled now?
"—is under attack! They've breached the southern perimeter and have detonated various small bombs. They demand Crown Prince Lelouch surrender to them to save the students."
Numbers remained pathologically stupid. Even the brat would not succumb to such a trick.
How the terrorist had gotten through the walls would have to be investigated, but this was nothing that his men wouldn't be able to handle… Unless V.V. had come out to play.
Either way, Charles was going to be pissed that he wasn't uselessly towering over his son.
"Zero?" the Eleven rasped in his grip. His muscles rippled beneath the fine silks Euphemia had dressed in him. At last, he had found his will to fight. "I have to— Lelouch. Is it Zero?"
The soldier shifted, his eyes flicking between him and the battered youth. To answer an Eleven was unbecoming, but who had attacked was vital intelligence.
"Answer me!" the Eleven cried, twisting free from his grip. "Is that madman targeting Lelouch now!"
Apparently, they were not close enough friends for the brat to have shared his dual identity with him.
"No!" The soldier stumbled backward, face frozen in pitiful fear. "It's some nobles that—"
Suzaku Kururugi snapped to attention, his eyes filled with fire. "Permission to deploy the Lancelot, sir!"
If Bismarck denied him, the boy would fight to escape and rescue his friend regardless. With the maniac Asplund in charge of the experimental frame, he might just let the boy take it on an unauthorized mission.
Back in the auditorium, the boy had defied his direct order to stand by Lelouch's side as a guard.
"You may accompany me," Bismarck allowed. What would he make of the opportunity?
If he dared to turn traitor, Bismarck would skewer his knightmare without hesitation. But if he was genuine—
An uncomfortable sense of duty and honor weighed on him, at odds with the insistence on Britannian superiority.
As Cornelia barked orders to her men to lock down the school and identify the assailants, Bismark decided to wait and see.
The Eleven's help wouldn't be exceptional anyway; he had struggled to defeat the half-breed knight, Kallen Stadtfeld.
Rivalz nearly dropped his phone as he opened the email from one of Lelouch's old chess partners. A tearful and terrified Shirley stared into the camera.
How— This had to be fake. Nobody would ever want to hurt her. She had to be at school. She hadn't mentioned going home for the weekend or anything.
Shirley cried easily, so it didn't really mean anything—
His phone buzzed again. The sender had one demand: Lelouch's surrender.
No…
They called him an imposter.
This was real. This was what Lelouch had tried to warn them about. They were all targets.
He was too young to die!
A curt bang cut through his thoughts. He turned. Then a pop. And a student screamed.
What was that! Where was that! People were beginning to run, and he didn't even know where to flee.
Finally, he found the origin, marked by a plume of smoke rising over the girl's dorms.
His feet slapped the ground. His chest heaved. He was running the wrong way, to the dorms, to the smoke, to the series of explosions.
"Shirley!"
There was no way someone could have Shirley. It just wasn't possible. They had increased security around campus. They couldn't be attacked here.
It was ridiculous. Preposterous. Impossible.
"Please," he begged, snatching the arm of a fleeing girl. "Have you seen Shirley?"
She stared at him in horror and stuttered, "No."
He watched her run away before breaking into a run again.
"Have you seen—"
"No."
"Where is—"
"Sorry."
"Please, was Shirley—"
"I don't know."
Then as he panted to recover his breath, with acidic smoke burning his lungs, a girl tugged on his sleeve.
"I heard the journalism club meant to interview her. They meant to chase her out of the dorms. She hadn't come back yet, so she should be fine."
Rivalz watched her retreat, disappearing behind the line of responding soldiers. That had been what he was afraid of.
"This is but the first attack," a smooth voice announced over the intercom. "We will escalate until the Imposter Prince admits that he has no right to claim the throne."
The words sounded muffled, distant. The smoke had covered the sky in a hazy mist, and he stared at the sunbeams as if they could answer all his problems.
Should he tell Lelouch the truth? This was Shirley, of course he should. But would he care?
He hadn't even answered the phone when the JLF had taken the hotel hostage. Should he care? He was to be the Emperor, and everyone knew Britannia did not barter with terrorists.
He rubbed his eyes, only succeeding in making his eyes water more.
This was Shirley…
He opened the phone and wrote: What do you want?
He was Lelouch's best man now. He would handle this and—
You have twelve hours to surrender or she dies.
The bars on his phone vanished.
Reality slammed into him like Milly on a warpath. He was just Rivalz. There was no way he could handle this himself.
He stared at the soldiers bustling over the scene. With the smoke clearing, it was apparent that the dorms had been barely damaged by the attack. The soldiers approached warily, their rifles raised.
He should tell them. They were here for Lelouch's safety after all. They would know how to deal with it.
The closest officer near him appraised the situation with a critical eye. As long as he listened to Rivalz, everything would be fine.
Rivalz froze mid-step—Shirley was a commoner—and pivoted away.
As he ran to the clubhouse, the explosions resumed. The ground quaked beneath his feet.
The guards at the door tried to stop him, drawing their weapons on him, but Lelouch's harsh bark forced them to let him pass.
"Rivalz, are you hurt?" Lelouch asked, his hands brushing the soot off his school uniform. "What is happening out there?"
"It has to be Zero," Rivalz babbled. No one else would have the guts.
Lelouch snorted. "It's not."
"But—"
"It's not. Trust me."
Rivalz pulled out his phone with shaking hands. It fell out of his hands as he tried to open it.
"Focus on breathing. In and out." Slowly, Lelouch knelt to pick the phone. He felt so normal; although, how could anyone be normal at a time like this! "Focus on wiggling your toes. You're here right now. In this room."
"How—" Rivalz squeezed his eyes shut, his heart rate skyrocketing again as terror pressed in on him. "Do you have experience with this?"
Lelouch smiled sadly. "I was here when Britannia invaded."
Invaded. Right.
Rivalz had always seen Britannia's conquests as a glorious and rightful expansion, but "invasion" brought different feelings, especially how Lelouch said it. "Conquered" was glorious. "Invaded" felt… wrong.
"I never understood you at all," Rivalz whispered bitterly. He had been so surprised when Lelouch announced to the entire school that an Honorary Britannian was his friend. "You really knew the Elevens."
"Japanese." Lelouch sighed and flipped open the phone. "Let's not talk politics, right now. The school is under—" His face paled. "Shirley."
"You—" Rivalz winced. Once, he would never have dared to ponder such a question. "You'll help her, right?"
Time seemed to slow as Lelouch met his desperate gaze with a calculating stare. He could not give in and surrender to the terrorists' demands; that would not save Shirley. Being a commoner, the guards would not even bother to save her.
Rivalz slowly lowered his eyes, his fingers curling into impotent fists. What could Lelouch do? He might have been declared the Crown Prince, but he was a student, just like Rivalz.
"Maybe if we beg?" he whispered.
"No."
Rivalz's head snapped up at the cold tone, so unlike Lelouch. His face had hardened into a mask of righteous fury. Was his pride worth risking Shirley's life? He opened his mouth to protest because what else could Lelouch do, and paused.
His friend's cruel grin was a welcome sight. Rivalz knew it well; it heralded the destruction of whatever noble fool accepted his bait.
"This isn't chess," Rivalz warned. There, he could be confident of Lelouch's dominance. "They're terrorists. Shirley is a hostage…"
"Gambling wasn't chess either. Otherwise, we would have never made as much money as we did. They're attacking my legitimacy." Lelouch walked past him, his hand resting on the door. "Asking for my surrender… Even if I was the type to cower and roll over, it would not matter. I would never be allowed to surrender. Coupled with this attack…"
He ripped open the door, staring down the soldiers assembled outside. "Report!"
Rivalz flinched as he stared at his friend in amazement. He had never heard anyone sound like that outside of the movies.
"Your Highness," the soldiers shouted, and Rivalz caught himself mouthing the words alongside them. An older man stepped forward, dropping to his knee. "A few minor explosives were set off. We have the situation under control, but it would be best for His Highness to return inside, where he will be safe."
"Safe?" Lelouch scoffed. "Everyone knows the student clubhouse is where I am staying. It is most certainly not safe here. Those were not minor explosions either, Sergeant."
The Sergeant tensed. "Your Highness, Sir Waldstein's orders are—"
"He is not here, which means he cannot protect you from me questioning your men's competence. Given that they could not keep some petty terrorists from attacking Ashford Academy and threatening me, I wonder if the cause is negligence or malice."
"Of course not, Your Highness," the sergeant protested, his voice trembling. "We are loyal to Sir Waldstein and—"
"Enough!" Lelouch raised his hand. "I am taking charge."
"But Your Highness-"
"Will you disobey a direct order from royalty?" Lelouch snapped. "Put me into contact with Waldstein."
"Communications are—"
Lelouch laughed. "Down? Then in his absence, no one can contest I am in charge. Or are you a fool, Sergeant?" He paused meaningfully. "Now, we are setting up in the science hall. I want the security footage from the gate cameras. I want the names of everyone who has left the campus and who has not returned. Secure the assembly hall as the student evacuation point. Anyone who enters will be thoroughly searched."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Rivalz stared in awe at the ease his friend had inserted himself into the situation. He had barely been able to comprehend that Lelouch was a prince. He hadn't even thought of what him being the emperor would truly mean.
Now, he saw something more.
"I will need a few minutes to prepare," Lelouch added. "I want you to double the soldiers guarding the clubhouse."
The sergeant frowned. "Aren't you—"
Lelouch didn't bother with a reply, stepping back inside. Eyes laden with guilt, he grabbed Rivalz's shoulder. "I am sorry for dragging you into this, but I will need you to save Shirley. Give me a minute."
Rivalz gaped as Lelouch broke into a run and dashed up the stairs. What could either of them really do? Sure, the guards were answering to him for now, but only grudgingly.
Bluffing would only carry Lelouch so far.
Heavier steps descended the stairs, and Rivalz tensed at the masked Britannian soldier. Bad soap dramas echoed in his mind, whispering of an inside job.
"Relax," the soldier—no, Lelouch—said. He took off the helmet with a chuckle. "If they bribed the guards, they know I am supposed to stay here. I have no interest in dispelling that illusion."
The uniform looked authentic. Had Suzaku smuggled him one?
"Is that—" Rivalz's gaze fixed on the chest plate. "Is that a bullet hole? How did you even get that? Was it from Suzaku? The black market? Did you steal it off a dead guy?" Something in Lelouch's expression told him the latter was the truth. "You can't be serious!"
"No need to scream," Lelouch hissed.
"Where would you even find a body just lying about to be pillaged! And what about the blood? That's so disgusting."
Lelouch rolled his eyes. "There wasn't that much blood. I washed it afterwards too."
"Why would you—Lelouch!"
"I need you to calm down. Shirley is depending on you. Can you do that for me?"
Rivalz nodded hesitantly. "Just tell me the truth please? There've been enough lies."
"Remember when we were nearly run over by a truck? I got stuck in Shinjuku. Nobody in civilian dress was going to make it out of there alive. In the chaos, I was lucky enough to get my hands on this."
Something about the explanation was incomplete. And hadn't the news reported a gas attack or something?
"Looting corpses isn't like you," Rivalz mumbled.
"It wasn't my first time." Lelouch sighed, running his hand down his face. "Later. Do you know how they captured Shirley?"
"One of the students mentioned the journalist club chasing her out of the dorms."
"I see," Lelouch answered, without a hint of emotion. Goosebumps ran down Rival's arm. "When reception is back, contact the kidnapper and demand to talk to Shirley to see if she is alive."
"If?"
"Say you haven't told me yet. That you can't get the message to me because the guards won't let you inside the clubhouse. I've sent Nunnally out already so there should—"
"What? How?"
"The headmaster built a tunnel to a bunker for us. No one is getting in once Sayoko enables the defenses."
The door opened, and five soldiers stepped inside and one immediately drew his gun. "Identify yourself."
"I see the disguise works," Lelouch answered as he pressed a radio into Rivalz's hand. "Stay in contact. One guard stays here."
"Your Highness, protocol—"
"I gave you an order." His hand settled on Rivalz's shoulder, shoving him roughly towards the door. "All of our lives depend on putting on a convincing show."
Bismarck flew out of the hangar, propelled by his energy wings. All the other knightmares were down, a virus of some sort making it impossible to verify the pilot. The technicians would have it fixed within the hour, but someone had put forth a ludicrous amount of resources in an attempt to delay the military response.
They had probably aimed to disable his own machine, but a knightmare serving a Knight of the Round had extra protection.
A white blur weaving through traffic below him made him raise an eyebrow.
"Lancelot, this is One. Copy?"
"One, Lancelot. Copy."
"Your machine is working? Over."
"Yes, sir. Cecile designed a custom OS. Over."
"Do not crash. Out."
Bismarck increased the energy to float and shot forward. Ashford campus grew larger in his view and a slow rising plume of smoke from one of the dorms.
His factsphere scanned the area, tracking the various heat signatures milling around. A crowd of soldiers stood guard around the clubhouse while one figure remained inside.
His gut twisted with unease at such an easy target. To be fair, the clubhouse was designed like a fortress. It would survive a direct collision with a knightmare.
The brat was loitering far too close to the windows for his comfort.
Deciding the situation would keep, he scanned the smoking dorm. Another small explosion blew out the side windows. There was no one inside.
Timed charges. Of course.
How anyone managed to sneak them inside was going to be the subject of their next lengthy security review. This should have never happened.
Charles was going to kill him.
The radio crackled. "Testing."
"This is One. I hear you. Report. Over."
"Holy Elizabeth. It's working again! Fuck. Sorry, sir. This is Hacksaw, Unit Seven. Timed charges in the dorms are making a distraction. Unit Eight and Nine set out to regain contact. They have clearly been successful. Unit Three and Four are securing the tunnels. A student let in an unknown group. The students have been evacuated. In two minutes, all units are to fall back. Anyone left is to be considered hostile. Over."
Bismarck blinked as he tried to gather his thoughts to formulate a reply. This was a surprisingly proactive response.
He had expected them to hunker down, to coalesce around the club house to protect their charge.
He eyed the brat's heat signature again. There were not enough guards.
"Who took charge? Over."
"That would be me," an amused voice replied. "Private video."
That could not possibly be the brat.
In the corner, the video screen flickered to life and he stared in incomprehension at the prince who was most certainly not in the clubhouse.
"I admit I anticipated a bigger response force than just yourself," Lelouch said. "On the other hand, you arrived faster than my estimates."
"Knightmares inside the Tokyo Area are temporarily down. One of your tricks maybe?"
Lelouch frowned. "I wish I could claim credit, but knightmares are hardly that easy to hack. Access is a big problem. Even if I developed such a worm, it would take too much manpower to infect each knightmare. At best, I would incapacitate a unit. Then there is the other problem: time. Something like this would have needed to be developed long before the Emperor made his announcement."
Could he trust the brat's assessment? The boy was a terrorist, even if he had a tremendous cheat in the form of his geass.
"Why did you take charge?" Bismarck asked slowly. "Given your proclaimed loathing of your nation, I would have imagined you would delight in Britannia humiliating itself."
The cold confidence in Lelouch's eyes made it clear his actions had been no fluke. He had taken charge deliberately, pushed through obstinate officers who had orders to prioritize the prince's health and keep him contained.
No, this was most certainly no spoiled brat.
If Zero was no tantrum, but the manifestation of pain and rage then he wouldn't have acted. Hatred was all consuming, raging with an inferno that inevitably led to self-immolation if not quenched. It allowed for no compromise, no hesitation, no mercy.
The school should have burned.
Lelouch's hand swept out, reminiscent of Zero's showmanship but lacking an artistic flair. "They attacked my school. They hurt my friends because you and the Emperor put them in danger."
There was that hatred, somehow leashed within the boy's lithe body.
Lelouch chuckled, low and quiet, before it erupted into maniacal laughter. "I know that you intend for me to die. It is a rather ingenious way to defuse Area Eleven, and secure that precious sakuradite I threatened. I'll never be able to hide or gain anyone's trust. And afterwards, when my corpse cools, you can raise your bloody flag to eradicate whatever faction troubles my dear father at the same time."
The problem was, if Bismarck did not know otherwise, he would easily have believed that this was Charles' plan. He did not care much for his children, and that love for Marianne did not necessarily transfer to her children.
If he hadn't witnessed that attention Charles lavished on Lelouch and Nunnally, he would have doubted Charles's intentions when he shared the plan.
Nothing Bismarck could say would convince Lelouch that his father's intentions were honest. The boy would not believe anything he said, even if he shared that the Emperor had precious little time left to live.
Receiving no response, Lelouch calmed and his smile turned mocking. It was an expression that Bismarck assumed he often wore beneath the mask. "I told you, I have no intention of dying. You two may have forced me to play a game rigged in your favor, but the impossible has never stopped me from winning before."
Zero had been far from winning, and Bismarck had never entertained the notion that he would have any meaningful success. Looking at the young man before him, he could now see what the mask had hidden. Zero was clumsy, more showmanship than effectiveness. He barely survived every encounter, relying on his geass to sway luck into his favor.
Zero, as the acme of a revolutionary, was nothing more than a mild irritant. Zero was not that.
Zero was a seventeen year old boy, floundering his way through the treacherous sea of revolution and warfare with only himself to rely on. Zero was not clumsy; he was learning.
"Any hint as to who planned this attack?" Bismarck asked, before the silence between them could stretch on any longer.
Now, he finally saw a hint of what Charles saw in his son, beyond nostalgia. There was a worthy Emperor in the young man, needing to be refined and matured.
The only problem? Lelouch hadn't rebelled as a prince leading a coup but out of hatred for Britannia. Would his rage ever allow him to accept the crown?
"Given they disabled Britannian knightmares, I suspect a high ranking noble." Lelouch shrugged. "There are plenty of those who loathed my mother."
On the ground, soldiers burst into action, swarming over the campus to capture or kill the terrorists.
"It is unlikely any of them know much of value," Bismarck warned. "Even if you use your geass."
"The hired guns, yes, but a student helped. Even if they know nothing now, their paranoia will lead us back to the culprit soon enough."
Although such a plan was risky, Bismarck held his tongue. His intelligence assets would uncover the culprit eventually. For Lelouch to grow, he needed room to make mistakes and learn. Having him take charge of his own security would act as an olive branch.
The boy would take it. By Reuben's account, he was far too paranoid not to. And that would give Bismarck the opportunity to enmesh the boy among Britannians, to hopefully sway his loyalty to the country he was supposed to lead.
"You know," Lelouch noted idly, his gaze betraying his glee, "it is rather embarrassing that you were frolicking off with the viceroy while the military was caught with their breeches down."
Charles was going to be livid. Bismarck hadn't fucked up so terribly in decades.
"Of course, all things considered, everything turned out well here. Not much I can do to help Cornelia although she is lucky the security breach was uncovered now, instead of a more inopportune time. If we had planned this, well…" Lelouch smirked. "Then you took a risk that panned out."
Bismarck was sure Lelouch wouldn't appreciate being told how much he resembled his father at that moment. It was the exact same fucking smirk that Charles wore whenever he knew he had won.
He sighed. "What do you want?"
"Only two things," Lelouch said. "Give Suzaku his freedom."
What was it about that Eleven…
"And?" Bismarck added.
"A student was taken hostage. We are bringing her back alive." Lelouch's eyes darted to the side, his smirk fading. "They realized they lost. Three things. Deal with that knightmare."
Bismarck's gaze dropped to his own readout. Seconds later, a friendly pulsing dot showed up. "A bomb."
It was rather ironic that a noble playing at terrorism had less decency than Zero.
Thank you to the betas. :)
I can happily say that ch. 11 will be released next week, Wednesday (the 27th). I can say that because I already wrote the chapter and it's with the betas.
In response to a guest review on FFN, I would like to clarify somethings. I don't want to delve into the personal, but my delays are definitely not due to me burning out on writing. I also didn't start writing this fic because of writer's block with Excalibur. Excalibur is my darling child which I lavish with more care as a result and therefore it takes the longest to write. I started Lifting the Veil fic because Jarod made a very compelling case for why I should write it lol. I write pretty much every other fic because I want to write a one-shot to fulfill my craving of completing a project and then half of those spiral beyond the scope of a one-shot and I despair because I hate unfinished works.
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / MFKuCGYxcT