Stalking his way across the Ashford Academy grounds, Lelouch narrowed his gaze at the clearing sky.

"Justice?! Freedom?! Whether they're civilians or soldiers, the people who die in your rebellion won't have either!"

"How can you still believe Japan is my country?!"

"The only Britannian trying to gaslight me is you, Lelouch!"

"I… miscalculated," the Prince slowly confessed. "I let my frustration with his unexpected obstinance get the better of me, to the point that I could barely even process what was happening in front of me until it was too late."

The moon, of course, offered him neither support nor criticism.

Suzaku's completely naive about Britannia at large, enough that it sets my temper aflame just thinking about it… but some of his grievances aren't completely without merit. I rather doubt that Euphemia has any significant degree of practical experience for the role she's stepped into, so I should have plenty of time to plan out my next move – time enough for Suzaku to calm down and be distracted from how poorly that went, during which time I can start accruing resources of my own.

So his thoughts continued as Lelouch entered the clubhouse, initially centering around the terrorist pilot girl he'd recognized in his morning classes that day before drifting instead to the matter of how he was going to explain the clusterfuck with Suzaku to Nunnally.

The good news is I got to meet with him, the bad news is that we completely pissed each other off… tch, as if.

Unlocking the door to their shared rooms, the first thing Lelouch noticed was the mouth-watering aroma of melted cheese. A cavalcade of other scents quickly followed on its heels, and the lost Prince winced at the visceral reminder of just how long he'd been gone… only for his lips to immediately turn up as a voice called from the next room.

"Big brother, is that you?!"

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Nunnally! I imagine that Sayoko must have ordered pizza, right?"

Honestly, Lelouch wasn't entirely sure what he'd do without such a reliable asset in their life. The woman's history of service was beyond worthy of recognition… even if sustaining a salary increase would likely require another high-stakes chess game in the near future, Shirley's concern and disappointment would have to be worth it.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, Lelouch – your girlfriend came by to keep me company!"

Lelouch was already turning the corner into the dining room as her words began to register, and only a supreme act of self-control kept him from spilling two words that would have been an absolute nightmare to explain.

You died.

Sitting there at the table, cuddling next to Nunnally, was the green-haired woman from Shinjuku. The prisoner who had been trapped in the so-called poison gas capsule, and who without so much as giving her name had taken a bullet to the brain for Lelouch and seemingly bestowed on him the power to fight Britannia.

Making a light show of chewing and then swallowing the pizza she'd just bitten off, the woman turned an impassive gaze on Lelouch. "You kept us waiting, you know. From the way you're dressed," she added with a possessive tug on her plate of pizza, "clearly you ate out tonight."

"Miss C.C. came by around an hour ago, she's been waiting for you as well," Nunnally helpfully explained. "I tried calling you, but you wouldn't answer your phone. She only gives everyone her initials… I wouldn't have thought mysterious girls were your type, big brother."

Who knows what kind of story she's fed Nunnally; damn it, this kind of complication is exactly the last thing I care to deal with tonight…!

Crossing his arms, Lelouch gazed down at C.C. with narrowed eyes even as he kept his tone under careful control. "She may not sound like it, Nunnally, but C.C.'s a notorious joker and you should think twice about even pretending to accept anything out of her mouth at face value; it's part of why I haven't been in a hurry to go around making introductions."

"Such slander and lies," C.C. blandly replied before lifting another piece of pizza to her lips.

"It's a real shame," Lelouch continued as his glare intensified, "that her sense of humor tends to fixate on things no one else thinks is funny."

"How cruel of you to say such a thing, Lelouch, after the promises you've made to me… what about our future together?"

Lelouch could feel a vein pop in his forehead as Nunnally twitched in response to the verdette's question.

"Your… future together? Are the two of you getting married? And so soon?"

Not a chance in hell.

"Not necessarily," C.C. allowed… and at that sign of mercy Lelouch made the fatal mistake of letting his guard down, only to realize his folly too late as the ghost of a smirk flickered across her face. "But your brother needs to take responsibility somehow."

The loud crash of shattering cupware interrupted Nunnally's outright mortified attempts to demand clarification as Lelouch dragged C.C. by the arm into another room with a flurry of excuses.

All but throwing the woman onto his bed, Lelouch locked the door behind him. "I want explanations. Now. Who are you?"

"Your darling sister said my name," she airily replied as she cast her gaze about the room, "and I seem to recall that you even used it yourself in response. I'm C.C. Tell me, how are you enjoying the Geass I gave you?"

So it really was her doing after all…

The memory of Suzaku's haunted thousand-yard stare returned unbidden to the forefront of Lelouch's mind, and a barely-restrained impulse for violence reared its head yet again. "What's your game? What do you gain from giving this power to me and Suzaku?!"

The end of his question, more than anything else so far, seemed to actually draw C.C.'s direct attention. "Suzaku? Who's that?"

"The Japanese soldier who was there when your capsule opened and who took the first bullet for me, before the truck exploded… my oldest friend. He spoke as if it was showing him the future, and it turned him against me." Although honestly I'm certain there's more to it than that, I doubt that it's worth trying to give her the wider context.

C.C. hummed for a long moment, gazing unflinchingly into Lelouch's gaze, before she eventually shrugged and started unzipping her top. "Have you considered that perhaps the future version of you is just an asshole? All I can say is that the only contract I've made is with you; whatever's going on with him has nothing to do with me."

C.C. continued to undress as she spoke, first dropping her straightjacket onto the floor and revealing an equally plain white sports bra, before then starting to shimmy out of her pants.

"Nothing to do with you…?" Lelouch echoed in disbelief and frustration. "Does that mean there are other people like you who can grant these kinds of powers? And for that matter, how many other Geass users are there? What's your agenda?"

Suzaku's Geass activated on its own, Lelouch recalled, almost like it took him by surprise. "Is there a chance that my Geass could someday run wild and activate without my intent?!"

C.C. hesitated for a split-second at the question and glanced at him, but gave away no inclinations of a further response. Incensed, Lelouch took advantage of the brief eye contact as his Geass flared to life. "Give me the truth!"

"If I ever feel like it," C.C. breezily replied as she threw her pants at Lulu's face crotch-first. "For now, at least, I'm going to get my beauty sleep."

The abrupt failure of his Geass to work on her as expected took Lelouch so utterly by surprise that interrogating the verdette completely fell from his mind. "You're not staying here; I won't accept the danger your presence puts Nunnally in!"

With a faintly dramatic swish of her hair, C.C. twisted around in Lelouch's bed before pulling the sheet up over herself and proceeding to snuggle up with the covers. "It isn't like I have anywhere else to go," she explained, "and only a small faction of the military even knows I exist. Given the chaos you and that other boy have left everything in, they'll be too busy trying to protect their own skins to spare time looking for me. This sets aside that my being found creates its own share of risks for you~"

Is… is this woman blackmailing me into letting her stay here?! For Nunnally's sake, I may not have a choice but to eliminate her – shit, she came back to life from a bullet between the eyes! I don't have a reliable way to get rid of her!

Lazily opening one eye to stare at Lelouch in his moment of turmoil, C.C. pointedly told him, "A gentleman would take the floor, you know."

Gritting his teeth, Lelouch crawled on the bed and pinned C.C. in place. "We're not finished yet."

"You won't go away," C.C. huffed with narrowed eyes, "and you're not brave enough to slip in here with me; I hate your kind of stubbornness."

With that, she forcefully rolled over on one side, leaving Lelouch with no other choice but to stew in frustration. "...then I can only imagine the spite you must feel when you look in a mirror," he spat before gathering up her clothes to be washed.

As the room's climate control kicked in and started blowing cool air across their bed, Suzaku gazed up toward the ceiling more at peace than he'd been in years.

For almost as long as I can remember, it felt like just being alive was a prison… but now I'm starting to wonder if there really might be a healthier way of breaking out. But in using a system to change the standards of what's permissible, the problem remains of those who refuse to abide by that system and don't conform with it. It's not enough to just change who's in charge or to modify rules, we need to address the way that people think.

"...but how do you kill a meme?"

"You mean… like, a shitpost on the web?"

Suzaku jolted in surprise, so positive that Elle had been asleep that he hadn't thought it an issue to think out loud. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…"

"It's fine, I was thirsty anyway," the redhead replied as she sat up and turned to a nightstand by the wall, sheets slipping off and showing off her pale back in the dim streetlights from outside.

"No, I mean like… an idea. Memes are to culture and social history what genes are to biology; I guess you could say they're the DNA of the soul, as it were. Suppose I wanted to rid the world of a toxic way of thinking, like cleansing the Eleven–"

"They're Japanese, Suzakkun."

Suzaku paused for a split-second, never imagining for a moment that a Britannian military officer would correct him on what ethnic terminology to use – and then he paused again to digest the cutesy and distinctly Japanese pet name she'd just given him. Is this… is this what your world means by 'weaboo'?

His partner failed to respond, outright paralyzed by the combination of joy and utter mortification that Suzaku had fast learned to associate with a severe tsundere moment.

By saying They, Suzaku realized after a moment, she's giving me the option of whether or not to include myself among them.

A small smile blossomed across his face, content to idly watch Elle reach for a glass of water and drink from it. We should go out of our way to do something nice for her.

"...like cleansing the Japanese consciousness of their ingrained cultural misogyny, as just one example, or Britannia of its systemic racism. I was just trying to think of how it might be done to make a better world," he explained after she'd swallowed.

"Mmmmmh… don't think you can just purge something like that without mass murder or mind control," Elle mused as she lay flat and snuggled up closer to Suzaku, basking in his body heat and affectionate embrace. "You could ask Cecile later, I think she dabbles in social sciences…?"

Suzaku wrapped an arm around the redhead scientist, considering both what she'd said and the fact that she'd even said it. "You wouldn't mind? I mean, I've noticed some tension between the two of you, so–"

"So I've kind of had my head up my butt," Elle admitted with a sigh as she buried her face in Suzaku's collarbone to keep from making eye contact with him. "I've… never really been very confident or secure about my body. I mean, you've noticed that Cecile and Princess Euphemia both have the kind of assets that I – don't."

Suzaku remained silent as to let her speak without interruption, though he was more than content to idly run a hand through her hair.

"So repeatedly watching you get attention and affection from women with better curves than I've got, it…" Elle twitched against him, sounding genuinely embarrassed with herself. "It didn't exactly bring out the best in me."

The soldier felt a tug on the other side of his heart, and easily passed the steering wheel over to his partner before their arms pulled the scientist into a tight embrace. "...as someone who feels weak and insecure all the damn time? I don't think you should apologize for feeling vulnerable."

Elle pondered that, idly tracing a circle on his chest. "You, insecure? I'm sorry, Suzaku, but… after Shinjuku, it's a little hard to believe. I mean, even with handicapped sensors and one hand basically tied behind your back, you stared down a bunch of terrorists and protected those civilians like you were just crossing the street."

"If I can be honest," he quietly admitted, "you're about a world more terrifying to me than some no-good rebel trash could ever dream of."

The unusual vocabulary surprised Elle almost as much as the statement itself. "Really? But I'm not some warrior, what could I ever do to someone like you?"

Silence hung over the pair for a long moment, until his next whisper stabbed into Elle like a knife to the heart.

"...you could walk away."

Elle took a long breath, before scooting up in the bed to be face-to-face with him. He really is the type to fall hard and fast, isn't he? Cecile told me as much earlier… "Do you… wanna talk about it at all? Is there something that you think would make me walk away?"

Suzaku, unexpectedly thrust back into control of his body, swallowed down his slowly rising panic. "I…"

"Suzaku," Elle whispered as she kissed his forehead, hands cradling either side of his face. "Even if things end up not working out between us romantically? I was raised better than to just turn my back on someone as clearly in pain as you are. I'm not going to abandon you; I promise."

The young soldier swallowed again, clearly asking himself how far he was willing to risk opening up to her. "I…"

And then it was as if a dam had burst.

"I hate the world, Elle. I hate Japan for being dishonest and cowardly enough to provoke this war, I hate the Japanese for throwing me away like garbage and blaming their misfortunes on me, I hate Britannia for propagating and glorifying conflict everywhere it goes, even as I have to thank it for pulling me out of the gutter and giving me something halfway close to a home. I hate the past for being full of pain that nobody seems willing to let go of, I hate the present that's closing in on me like prison walls, I hate the heartless future that's rushing at me without so much as a chance to breathe… and most of all I hate myself for being too weak and cowardly to do anything about it. Even with as much hate and rage as I have in me, I also know it's wrong of me to lash out at others with it, so there's nothing I – I just – can't see any other options but to just bottle it up inside and turn it on myself instead as much as possible."

Elle considered that with a frown, before shifting on top of Suzaku and straddling him at the waist, sitting up as the thin sheet slid down and exposed her form in the pale light. "Suzaku, look at me."

Gently caressing his face to ensure he made eye contact with her, she made her case gently but firmly. "When I found you earlier, someone had hurt you so badly that you looked like a broken doll. If I told you I kind of hated that person for what they did to you, or for what they led you to do to yourself – would that make me evil?"

Suzaku's eyes grew wide. "Wha– no, of course not; it's not the same–"

"It's close enough," Elle decided as she shushed him with a finger over his lips. "What we feel makes us who we are, but that goes double for what we do. If you blame the Japanese for ruining your life or whatever – and I'm not gonna ask for an explanation right now – then that's fine. I don't think it's so awful for you to hate them if you need to, because you've already shown the world that you can do the most important thing."

"The… most important thing?"

"Not letting those feelings control you or interfere with your moral judgments," she clarified. "It isn't an either/or between hating the Japanese and maybe even wanting revenge on them, versus recognizing when it counts that their lives are worth protecting and then acting to do so. Having a grudge against someone that seriously hurt you doesn't in itself make you the villain, any more than being affectionate to someone that helped you makes you a hero. No one has to be perfect in order to be good, do you understand?"

Suzaku's gaze broke away, frowning, and Elle wondered at first if her words had fallen on deaf ears–

"So, what, are you saying I should… embrace my inner anti-hero or something?"

It took all of three seconds for Elle to spot the half-grin on Suzaku's face, at which point the somber mood completely disintegrated and she started snickering. "What B-movie poster did you get that line from?"

With a shyness that surprised Elle, given their night so far, Suzaku reached up to cup her cheek. "Would you… be down to maybe watch it with me, if I ever run across it again?"

"It's a date," she promised with a peck on the lips. "And in the meantime, tomorrow, I'd like it if you would tell me more about yourself. It doesn't have to be anything big or dark, just… little things. Safe things. And in exchange, I'll tell you more about myself. Is that alright?"

Tears started welling up in Suzaku's eyes as he clung onto her. "...that sounds great. Thank you so, so much…"

While certain other individuals were attempting to face towards the future, Princess Euphemia was preparing herself to reckon with the immediate past. Having long since done away with stimulants for the night, she brought a cup of hot tea to her lips. With any luck, this is truly the last of my business for the night. "Report, Margrave."

Gottwald, for his part, was clearly dealing with his own share of extended fatigue and doing his utmost to bear the suffering with a stiff upper lip. "Your Highness," he stoically began while producing a pair of manila envelopes from within his jacket, "these are the preliminary results of my investigation into Kewell Soresi's treacherous actions two days ago in Shibuya, and into the late Prince's clandestine experiments."

Euphemia set the findings on Kewell aside for a moment, hoping to get the worst over with. "As you said before, this does appear to be… some kind of medical work," she murmured as a torrent of technical information threatened to make her eyes glaze over. "There certainly isn't much here to go on, is there?"

"That's because the known research site had been almost utterly cleaned out of evidence before we even arrived," Gottwald explained with a frown. "Most likely, the materials and research data have been transferred to an unknown backup facility. I still have officers attempting to pin down this secondary black site, but as you can see, we're unfortunately short on proper leads. Barring an unexpected stroke of fortune, there's little we can do on this matter except to trace material shipments through the Area and hope for a promising trail."

Euphemia considered that for a moment, shaking her head. "What of General Bartley? I understand he was thought to be missing in action following the battle in Shinjuku; is that correct?"

"He was," Gottwald agreed, "but through the course of the day I've begun to wonder if he may in fact have… deserted."

Euphemia took another sip of her tea, digesting the idea. "...if true, this makes the situation yet more complicated. Have you any evidence to support your theory?"

Gottwald pointedly did not sigh in front of the Princess. He did, however, slump the tiniest fraction of a centimeter. "I'm afraid not, Your Highness; merely a hunch. If I may explain my reasoning, however… Aspirius Bartley was sworn to your late brother's service for much of the latter's life, and might well have done more in the Prince's youth and adolescence to raise him than His Majesty did. It would not surprise me if our wayward General held far greater personal loyalty to Clovis than he did to the Empire at large; in such a scenario, he very likely could have fled to parts unknown to continue your brother's research projects unhindered."

Loyalty to an individual outstripping one's loyalty to their nation… if it came to me or Britannia, Suzaku wouldn't so much as blink, would he?

However much Euphemia may personally benefit from such narrow dedication on his part, the little Cornelia in the back of her mind pointed out that it made him an objectively terrible soldier. A terrible soldier, she privately admitted, but an ideal Knight candidate once he's given some more experience and polish.

The Princess let out a sigh, forcibly dragging her focus back to the matter at hand – and at the data in her literal hand. "I more than appreciate the specificity of language required in technical matters, but I confess the contents of this report are outside my field of expertise…"

Jeremiah politely coughed into a fist. "I beg forgiveness, Your Highness; in my haste to ensure that all intelligence was compiled and that nothing was missing, I may have neglected to order it properly. There should be a summary–"

"Ah," she realized, "it's here on the following page. I should have been more thorough in my first examination; have some tea, Sir Gottwald. You clearly could use a cup."

It was at once an implicit apology for her own flagging attention, and a tentative olive branch in recognition of both his immediate weariness and of Jeremiah's efforts in proving himself in the preceding days. "You are too kind, Your Highness."

As Jeremiah silently poured himself a sip, Euphemia busied herself with the Code-R report's summary and then re-studying the whole with it in mind. "These are corrosive and toxic material experiments… this by itself could appear to suggest some type of chemical weapons development program," she murmured in concern and confusion, "but then what purpose for these – what are they, prototype prosthetics? Implants? Setting aside the pointless cruelty, remodeling people into some kind of delivery system is so disastrously inefficient and wasteful that I can't even imagine Clovis bothering with it."

Visibly reinvigorated somewhat, Jeremiah turned his gaze to the Soresi file. "Your Highness, I… believe the chemical experimentation to have served another, more sinister purpose. The two problems may be more connected than they first appear."

Euphemia raised a skeptical eyebrow at the declaration, before setting the Code-R data aside and opening its companion file… only to pale within seconds as it turned more dreadful by the page. "Triggered psychosis? Dissociative memory loss? Are…"

The Princess swallowed and shook her head, taking another look at the chemical weapons experiment records in the Code-R file before leaning towards Jeremiah with a horrified hiss. "Are you suggesting that this is some kind of mind control program?!"

"Judging by what we've found of testimony prior to his sortie, your direct encounter with Soresi in Shibuya, and my attempt to interrogate him in detainment? One thing is consistent in all instances," he explained. "It isn't merely that he had an almost undeniable impulse to kill you, Your Highness, but that he needed to continue rationalizing it with respect to the changing context around him. If my hypothesis is correct, we are looking at a program that deviates completely from nature. Imagine, if you will, the very lowliest dregs of the world artificially made Closer to Eden through cybernetic implants; enslaved by chemicals and surgery, so that their own internal logic should be twisted and morphed to accommodate someone who lacks the charisma or leadership to gain actual loyalty. The entire nature of strength and competition as we know it - not only of physical might, but of ideas, would be torn apart."

"A complete dead-end of the Emperor's social evolution," a dazed Euphemia summed up. I knew coming here would be running out of my comfort zone, but this is completely beyond the pale! I can't… there's no way that someone like me can handle this, I need to report it to the Prime Minister. Schneizel will know what to do about –

The thought stopped and lodged itself in Euphemia's mind mid-birth.

…Schneizel would know.

Just three little words that should have been innocent and reassuring, quickly becoming less so each time they repeated in Euphemia's mind.

Schneizel had known Euphemia wasn't ready for such a degree of responsibility in the first place, and deliberately courting Cornelia's wrath by instating her as Clovis's Sub-Viceroy was in hindsight… uncharacteristic of him.

How many other candidates must there have been who weren't lacking experience or other qualifications, she suddenly asked herself. Even if Schneizel saw me as an investment, I can't believe for a moment he would have seen enough long-term gain in backing me to be worth the interim risks of displeasing my sister.

He must have had some other cause for such a move. If not for the incident in Shinjuku that day, Schneizel would have known how I would approach my duties, and he would have known what to expect from Clovis.

Like pieces of a puzzle, one thought after another abruptly began sliding into place. Knowing now what ill business Clovis was hiding and my own ignorance of the matter, he would have been desperate to either hide everything where I wouldn't find it… or be forced into dismantling this ghastly project altogether, because Cornelia would see any attempt to get rid of me as a cause to invade the Area in revenge, bloodline be damned.

"Your Highness…?"

"You're dismissed for the evening," Euphemia absently murmured. "I have much to think about, and you're aware of what still needs to be done in the meantime."

With a smart salute, Gottwald bade the Princess goodnight and left her with her thoughts.

Schneizel sent me here because he knew that Clovis had his hands in something foul. Perhaps not to the limited extent that we've uncovered so far, but at the very least he must have seen signs of the mundane corruption and embezzlement taking place.

Euphemia swiveled around in her chair to look out at the city, eyes narrowing with indignation and anger. "He knew our brother was engaging in, at the very least, base criminality."

Soft hands slowly tightened into fists. "And rather than properly bring him to justice, he deployed me as an unwitting cease and desist." Of course, that's merely the best case scenario – with no more context than I have to work with, it's just as likely that Schneizel was happy to gamble with countless innocent lives by pitting Clovis and Cornelia against each other if the former failed the test of character my presence presented.

"Common blood notwithstanding," she growled, "at the very worst I had thought our relationship to be that of indebted and debtor."

Of course, Euphemia had known Schneizel to be an avid chess player all along, as well as the Prime Minister. As much as it galled her to admit, the cruel and bitter reality was that sometimes politics got people hurt; most especially those who had done nothing to warrant it.

But if he's going to well and truly treat his own family as just another set of pieces to move on his precious board, then he's no better than our father. No mere rival or potential risk, but the enemy to all that I love and stand for.

The Princess bit her lip in frustration, gazing across at the citizens below. The people whose lives, security, and prosperity were now her responsibility.

"...I need an ally," she admitted. "Someone with the expertise and knowledge base to cover my weaknesses, and the resources to put those strengths to use." Someone I can trust to, at the very least, share enough of my viewpoint that our goals will overlap and who wouldn't gain anything from trying to undermine or compete with me.

Placing one foot in front of the other, Euphemia began to slowly pace along the wall as she considered her options. "Odysseus has the resources and influence, but is too high profile to approach; not to mention that he'll roll over without hesitation at the slightest bit of pressure. Cornelia would just walk all over me and put me back in a gilded cage for my own safety."

Euphie's brow furrowed in thought. "Guinevere might agree to help me just for the sake of lording it over Cornelia, but her field of study overlaps too much with mine; while I could effectively learn from her in state and subterfuge, her naked distaste for direct military affiliation means I'm left to rely on Margrave Gottwald for that… nevermind that she'd still be more than ready to go behind my back or outright override me the instant it suited her. Carine…"

Pink tresses swayed through the air as Euphie shook her head in muted horror with herself. "Carine is a non-starter."

What Euphemia needed, she fast realized, was a militarily-inclined mind. A mind ruthless and cunning enough to at least dream of fending off the likes of Schneizel should circumstances demand it, paired with a heart kind and open enough to understand her goals, and cooperative enough to work with her in seeing them through –

"...oh! It seems so obvious now."