August 17 2018, A.T.B. Midnight.

Princess Euphemia slammed a palm flat on her oak desk, even as a terrified staffer hurried out of the office to get in contact with the hospital that Suzaku Kururugi had been lifted to.

"No, I don't care how justified you think you are, General! I am not stepping aside so you can give that madman Zero the kind of escalation he's clearly trying to provoke… and don't you dare take her side, Prime Minister!"

"Viceroy, please, let's a moment for calm–"

Unfortunately for Schneizel, the elder li Britannia sister had just as much interest in backing down. Which was to say, none.

"Don't be absurd, Euphemia! If this Zero character wants to spit on the unwarranted kindness you and that Eleven boy–"

"Sir Kururugi has a name," Euphemia snapped. "And you. Will. Use it! I do not care that you blame the Elevens for what happened to Lelouch and Nunnally. His loyalty and sacrifice have earned him no less than that much respect!"

"Then he can be the one Eleven who gets to walk away," Cornelia replied with more than enough ice in her voice to match Euphemia's fire. "I have no tolerance for threats to your safety! And with the confirmation that even those mongrels can become Closer, the most sensible solution is to carpet bomb the entire island–"

For a fleeting instant, Euphemia actually saw red. "You call me absurd?! An oversensitive crackdown will immediately give Zero all the legitimacy he could ask for, not to mention screaming to the world stage that we're terrified of him – that Britannia sees his existence as a weakness!"

"To hell with image," Cornelia snarled, "I'd rather–"

"That's enough from both of you!"

The sisters immediately fell silent at the reprimand, more from shock than anything else.

Neither Euphemia, nor Cornelia, had ever in their entire lives heard Schneizel raise his voice.

"Euphemia," he began after a moment to regain his composure. "The points you raise against a major escalation are valid. But you need to remember that your inexperience still makes you an incredible liability as a leader. And, bluntly, the luxury of putting your sister on a leash can no longer be afforded."

"But–"

"Not now. We will hear your intended course of action shortly."

Turning his attention next to Cornelia, Schneizel observed that the elder sister of the two had mostly recovered and seemed to have a rather self-important idea of where the discussion was going.

Given the circumstances, disabusing her of such notions promptly became his next priority. "Cornelia. Unless His Majesty himself or the Knight of One personally contradict me, you are not taking over Euphemia's Viceroyship until I'm satisfied that you can carry out the duties thereof in a manner guided more by rational thought than familial panic."

"What?! But Schneizel–"

"That said," he firmly pressed on, "I'm fully aware that you're going to be outright intolerable if I continue trying to keep you from Area Eleven entirely. You, your Knight of Honor, and one squadron of your choice shall be assigned to Area Eleven in an advisory role to assist the Viceroy and her forces to enhance security and readiness. You are not to override or overrule Viceroy Euphemia's authority except in emergency circumstances–"

The ghost of a smirk flitted across Cornelia's face, so slight that had Schneizel been paying less than complete attention to her he would have missed it. "Do not test me on this, Cornelia. You don't want to see the consequences."

Cornelia, in her aerial transport about to touchdown on the Britannian homeland, didn't bother hiding her scowl. "If the Viceroy proves incapable of managing the situation on her own, even I will require more forces than a single squadron to effectively salvage the situation. It's unreasonable of you to expect that I should bring that entire backwater up to standard with so few units in light of the current Viceroy's inexperience and her predecessor's bungling."

"Then I'll grant authorization to summon the rest of your personal forces in a month's time," he promised, "pending the Viceroy's performance."

Schneizel's gaze slid back to Euphemia. "I trust you have no complaints, Viceroy?"

In truth, Euphemia had plenty… but she also understood that to express them would only damage her position in negotiations. "I don't, on the assurance that General Cornelia and her officers can follow my and my Sub-Viceroy's orders, and that she will refrain from undercutting my policy decisions."

"If General Cornelia knows what's good for her," Schneizel agreed with a nod, "she will behave."

"...I wasn't aware a Sub-Viceroy had been chosen," Cornelia remarked as though just realizing it. Before she could attempt to lobby for the position herself, Schneizel stepped in.

"The Viceroy nominated Princess Merrybell for the position. In light of her proven tactical acumen and focus on counterterrorism, I had no reason not to approve it. She and her Glinda Knights are set to disembark from the Homeland on her airship the Grandberry in eight hours – I hope, Euphemia, that you aren't plotting to advise Merrybell to hasten their departure to in an attempt to stop Cornelia and her group from joining her."

"I'm not," Euphemia replied with a forced smile. Not after you called me out on it, anyway…

In her heart of hearts, a large part of Euphemia desperately wanted to step down and give up the Viceroyship.

The man I love is in critical condition and might even be dying for all I know, and I can't be at his side because I'm stuck trying to hold this bloody territory together!

Oh, for the day when she could give Zero a piece of her mind…

Euphemia let out a breath, and refocused her attention on the task at hand. Ever since Shibuya, Suzaku had been helping to create possibilities for her to come into her own.

If I just gave up and let everything we were working for fall apart so quickly, she wondered, would I even be able to look him in the eye?

Euphie refused to find out the hard way.

"Obviously there remain a great many moving parts to be dealt with, but here's the shortest version of what you should prepare for…"

Ashford University, Camelot research wing…

Viletta Nu stormed into the trailer, startling Lloyd and Cecile who were hard at work. "Effective immediately," she declared, "I'm assuming temporary command of Celestial Being until Sir Kururugi is able to resume his duties! If either of you know anyone else with a significant interest in making this program a success and who has operational command experience, now would be a great time to speak up."

Cecile would have asked the other woman what authority she thought she was acting under… but in light of the circumstances, she couldn't argue with the logic that had been provided. With the face of the initiative black and blue and out of the picture, it was on everyone else to prove that the anti-corruption force could and would still continue operations in spite of such a setback.

"Until Sir Kururugi recovers," Cecile formally echoed with a nod. "I'll entrust operational direction to you."

The bluenette didn't bother to issue a warning that her trust had a limit, and Viletta had enough sense not to need it. "Where's Lubie?"

"Mariel's at the hospital," Lloyd distractedly replied. "Her anxiousness about our devicer made her of little use here, so I sent her to get updates on his condition."

"Fair enough. What are the two of you working on?"

Cecile retook her seat, bringing the bulk of her focus back to the task at hand. "We're studying the available data from Suzaku's fight with Zero in order to work on appropriate doctrine for standard forces when he inevitably shows up again."

"The Knight of One and the late Flash were notoriously stingy with their combat data," Lloyd at once explained and complained. "Even old Leonard was never allowed access to the hard numbers without their direct presence; thanks to their jealous paranoia, this is the first time we've had anything close to usable superhuman performance statistics – and while we can work with the available data, even you should be able to understand how woefully incomplete it is."

Cecile whipped her head toward Lloyd in shock, accidentally hitting something on her terminal that prompted a loud error response in the process. "Lloyd, you can't just speak ill of Sir Waldstein like that!"

"If I've said something untrue, then I'll deal with the paperwork for it later."

For a long second, Viletta contemplated joining in on chastising the Earl for his complete lack of respect for the chain of command.

Then she decided that her rank wasn't high enough to accept any responsibility for that problem in light of those she already had to deal with. "Moving on, did Kururugi leave any notes with regards to future operations? Even if it's an illusion, we need the public to think that his removal from the field is at worst an inconvenience, not a debilitating setback."

Cecile didn't answer at first, focused more on singling out and correcting her unintended mistake in the data analysis. "The drawer next to me, second from the bottom," she replied after a moment. "Anything we have access to will be in a manila folder. You can also use the guest account on Elle's terminal to pull up the case files and evidence log from our earlier attack on the Babel Tower casino; for lack of a more original idea, I expect there's material in there you can use to launch more operations of the same type."

Bending at the knee to retrieve the file as directed, Viletta almost scoffed at the label when she saw it. "What the hell kind of name is Peace Walker?"

"Probably the trite kind that's supposed to have a deep and emotional or symbolic meaning to the one who picked it," Lloyd muttered.

"Well," Viletta sighed, "if the name isn't obvious to any of us then I guess for security purposes it could have been worse."

Opening the folder, she sipped from a water bottle she'd brought along – and nearly choked on it a second later. "Have either of you two happened to read any of this?"

"I haven't yet," Cecile muttered. "He said earlier that it wasn't a high enough priority to worry about."

Lloyd wasn't remotely as interested. "I'm quite certain I've countless more important things to do with my time."

Her eyes lingering on the page, Viletta wondered for a long moment if it might not be for the best that she keep it that way.

Either Kururugi's been drinking some kind of kool-aid, Viletta thought with a critical frown, or else he's deliberately acting like it to make this seem like a joke or otherwise unimportant…

To call his opening mission statement gutsy or ambitious would have been an almost criminal understatement.

It was naive, it was insane… and more than anything else, as a Britannian it presented Viletta with a challenge she simply could not resist.

"Even if he is a lunatic," she whispered, "Shinjuku proved there are worse madmen I could hitch my wagon to."

Skimming over the next few pages' basic organizational blueprints for how personnel would be distributed through the organization based on experience and specialization, Viletta flipped the page over to see the personnel list… and then slumped in exasperation when Suzaku's name was virtually the only one on it; his Camelot coworkers being represented with question marks.

Shaking her head as Viletta picked up a pen to sign herself into the roster while pulling up the Babel Tower evidence log, she muttered, "You're one lucky fool to have someone with my experience in your debt, Kururugi…"

Raising her voice to address the other two people in the room, Viletta asked, "Our current force projection is almost entirely based on what we can conscript from local garrisons, isn't it?"

She'd been expecting Cecile to be the first one with an answer, but Lloyd surprised her this time. "The Lancelot's refit and repairs should be finished in about six hours. Good luck fielding it in live combat, though; our only other capable operator is a pacifist."

"That didn't stop me from helping out at Babel Tower," Cecile tensely replied.

"No, it didn't," Lloyd agreed. "But we've both seen that the likes of Zero won't be stopped with a net cannon."

Mindful of the atmosphere beginning to sour, Viletta cut back in. "Unfortunately for Zero, two of Britannia's brightest scientific minds are on the path to figuring out what will stop him. And in the meantime, I've got a few ideas for how to keep Kururugi's passion project alive long enough to see him back at the helm."

Less concerned about that than the data in front of him, Lloyd gave a hum in response. "For your own sake, it might help to put that gung ho attitude in check until we've heard from the Viceroy."

A mirthless laugh escaped the parolee's lips. "Rest assured, I'm already on hold with her office."

An undisclosed back alley…

While other players in the great game were already trying to decide their next move after the playing board had been so unceremoniously flipped, one particular figure took a few peaceful moments to reflect on the immediate past.

"GOD DAMN IT!"

A few less than peaceful moments, then.

Picking up a can of garbage and throwing it down the alley with a frustrated scream, Lelouch vi Britannia let fly another stream of curses at how the night had transpired. "I gave you every possible out I could conceive of," he hissed, "and you chose the worst possible time to double down on your stubbornness in the worst possible way!"

The exiled Prince's venting went unanswered… but as he took a step forward and allowed a ray of light from the main street to fall on Zero's mask without his blocking it, Lelouch straightened up with a sigh. "Yes, I know. Though Suzaku's agency is – at times damningly – his own, this happened because I miscalculated. I took his recent anxiety around me for granted and banked on his being unwilling to put up much of a fight against a close friend, while conveniently forgetting the way he always put such things aside and achieved results in the past. Even if he hesitates in the prologue, once the critical moment comes Suzaku meets it like a freight train…"

And as for Lelouch… he'd orchestrated the night's plan the way he had for one reason above all others.

Not only because it was efficient and allowed him to pursue multiple large-scale objectives at once.

Not only because it satisfied his need, his craving to force the world to meet him on his terms after half a lifetime of being forced to cower like a pathetic child.

Not only because he'd gained a more definitive taste for the spotlight after Shinjuku.

But because a small, infuriating part of him knew that he had a prior tendency to behave in a way opposite of his old friend.

Because Lelouch was beginning to understand himself on a more complete basis than had once been the case, and he knew that when the stakes were at their highest and events were coming to a head – there was a chance that Lelouch's resolve could crumble when forced to acknowledge the reality that his dearest friend in the world was dead-set on being his greatest obstacle.

The mask of Zero sat there silently as if watching Lelouch. As if judging him.

It could do neither of those things, of course; the mask was just a mask except when Lelouch put it on.

Only then could it take on the powers and abilities of a human existence. …of, perhaps, an existence greater than human.

As Lelouch continued to think back, not only on the affairs of the night itself but prior events that had necessitated them, an exasperated smile slowly crept onto his face. "...you made an attempt at taking the Emperor's public rhetoric away from him to make it your own, Euphemia. I don't know how much is your own work and how much might be Suzaku's influence, but causing me this much grief shows that you have evolved beyond anything I would have expected. And if tonight's mixed fortunes are any indication, Suzaku sharing your path means I can't underestimate his development either…"

The pale light in the alley flickered and went out momentarily, leaving Lelouch truly alone with his thoughts in the pitch-black darkness.

When the light came back on, Lelouch vi Britannia had disappeared – with the masked revolutionary Zero once more standing in his place. "Suzaku, Euphemia. If your resolve is yet unbroken by the next time we meet, then a true test of mettle will begin. By all means," he said with an audible smirk, "turn Britannia's power to justice before I gather enough power to destroy it utterly… if you can."

A sound at the other end of the alley caught his attention, and Zero turned to face the new arrival. "I was just starting to wonder about you."

At that moment, the second recipient of Zero's challenge lay on an operating table soaked in his own blood, having been passed out for almost half an hour and shallowly breathing on a respirator as the finest Britannian medical team in Tokyo crowded around him in a frenzy of activity.

"Damn it, we need more transfusion packs! The internal bleeding's too heavy to staunch effectively!"

"This son of a bitch just had to be born with type O negative…! We're not exactly swimming in the stuff!"

A blood type that could donate to all others, but could only receive its own type. A type shared by only seven percent of the human population.

"What about the synthetic stuff?! It's based on O negative!"

"But it's never been tested on O negative because we've always kept the latter strictly for transfusions; if it's not a perfect match, an adverse reaction would almost certainly push him over the edge and we'd lose him!"

"THEN WIPE SOME OF HIS OWN BLOOD OFF THE TABLE AND GO RUN TESTS ON IT!" the head surgeon roared. "We're on the verge of losing him anyway, and I will not be the woman who explains to the Viceroy why the world's finest medical technology failed to save her prize Eleven!"

As one of the doctors grabbed a sanitized rag to do exactly that, the head surgeon forced herself to take a breath. "Now where the fuck is that coagulant gel, and which retard in accounting is gonna deepthroat a shotgun for letting us run out?!"

"The transport from Akihabara just pulled in, they should have it and another half-dozen blood packs ready to go!"

Finally, some good fucking news; everything's been a giant fucking mess since I lost half my staff in that Purist purge…! "Make sure there's an elevator cleared for them!"

"Pulse is weakening! He's starting to flatline!"

"THIS MOTHERFUCKER DRAGGED ME OUT OF REM SLEEP, HE'S NOT DYING UNTIL I FUCKING SAY SO!"

Leaning over while her subordinates continued every possible effort to stabilize the patient, the head surgeon forced Suzaku's heart to continue beating with rhythmic chest compressions.

"You want to be acknowledged as a Britannian Knight, you piece of shit?! Then you gotta fight! Fight to stay alive! I don't care! If it's for your flag! Or your country! Or your Princess! Or your pride! But you have no fucking right to die like this! Not as a loser!"

For several minutes she continued to scream and rant, demanding that the patient stop laying there like a useless sack of meat and help her help him survive. As broken bones were set in place and surgical incisions were stitched back up, as additional personnel and resources came in, the desperate struggle continued on…

Outside the operating room, Elle sat on a bench as she anxiously watched the light above the door.

"OPERATION IN PROGRESS," it said.

The redhead had long since lost track of time, even stuffing her watch in her pocket with the realization that watching it had only been making her anxiety worse.

That night together, after I found him in the rain… Suzaku, he… he had so much hate in him.

If the worst happened, and he didn't pull through, then… then what kind of miserable life even was that?

Slowly, awkwardly, Elle clasped her hands together and bowed her head. "I… I don't know if you're listening, World. Or even if you really exist in the way they used to tell me… I'm probably not even doing this right," she whispered. "But I don't think there's anything else I can do right now. If Eden Vital really exists, and if it's really the divine human soul… then please. Help him. If he's really Closer to you like they say, then… then this can't be his destiny. It just can't…"

If she'd expected a response or any kind of sign, then she was sorely disappointed as the hustle and bustle of the hospital around her went on unabated, overworked medical staff running to and fro in attempts of dealing with a mass of patients they were no longer adequately equipped to deal with.

Even if he's really important to me, Elle wondered, he's just one person… is it too selfish of me to even ask for such a thing?

Tears streaming down her face, the baron's daughter looked back up at the door across from her – and at the damnable red light telling her that the operation was still in progress.

"It feels like it's been on forever… I can't even tell if it's good or bad."

Several minutes passed in which nothing notable happened, save for Cecile asking for an update and forcing the redhead to admit in writing that there wasn't one.

A short while later, the red light finally turned off, before several exhausted and worryingly bloody doctors exited the door.

Oh no… it… it can't be…!

As one final doctor crept through the door with a heavy sigh, Elle forced herself to her feet and approached. "Um… is he…?"

"He's still alive," the doctor replied, throwing her bloody-soaked gloves into a disposal bin before dragging a piece of jerky from her pocket and tearing off a chunk of it with her teeth. "Stable, too, for the moment. If the little bastard can stay that way until morning, we should be able to dunk him in a nutrient bath that'll help accelerate bone and tissue regeneration."

Alive and stable, Elle repeated in her head. A nervous, borderline hysterical giggle broke free of her lips, and the next thing she knew she was suddenly on the floor.

I guess my knees must've given out on me…

Suddenly feeling an entire universe more optimistic than she had moments ago, Elle looked up at a now faintly-amused surgeon. "Doctor, can… can I talk to him?"

"You can try if you want," she huffed while helping the younger woman to her feet, "but don't get your heart set on expecting a response. He's still unconscious. To be frank, I wouldn't be surprised if he's outright comatose given the hell he went through; we just won't be sure of that conclusively for another several hours."

As they were talking, the operating room doors opened and Suzaku was pushed out on a gurney, only distinguishable from a cadaver by the color that remained in his face and by the intermittent mist that formed and faded on his respirator mask. Multiple IVs had been inserted into his blood vessels. Though no longer bloody, the young man was still covered in bruises and stitches from where he'd been cut open and put back together. "Hey Lisa, I got word that an observation bed on the third floor just opened up," the orderly wearily said to the surgeon. "I'll double check to make sure it's sanitized before I put him on it."

The surgeon, apparently named Lisa, took another savage bite out of her jerky before walking past him. "...let his girlfriend have a minute first," she decided. "I'm sure the janitor upstairs is running behind anyway. Go outside and have a smoke or something."

While the pair gave her a little space, so many thoughts were fluttering through Elle's mind that she struggled to latch onto any particular one.

To think dad wanted me to make a career out of living with nightmares like this day in and day out…

He's alive, but he looks dead… he looks dead, but he's alive…

Reaching out slowly, gently, Elle brushed a finger against Suzaku's hand. Though his skin was warmer to the touch than she'd feared, she didn't get a response.

Of course I didn't. She just said he's unconscious, maybe even comatose.

"I… I kind of thought I'd be more upset," she whispered. "To know that you can't hear me say I love you, and that you can't answer me. And yet… I think right now it's almost a relief. Because if I can't reach you, then maybe the pain can't either, and you don't have to suffer. Is it… is it sick or wrong of me to look at your condition and call it a blessing? If you were awake, would you feel the same way?"

Leaning over him, Elle softly kissed Suzaku's cheek near the edge of his oxygen mask as tears fell again in earnest.

"I'm not strong like you," she continued, "and I don't know how to fight, so it's not like I can go running out the door to avenge you even if I wanted to. And as much as part of me wants to, I can't stay here with you all day and night. Even if I'm not some kind of princess or commander, I still have my own responsibilities… and besides, eventually I'd end up getting in the way of the people who can help you most right now, and that's the last thing I want. I'll come back as soon and as often as I can. But even if I can't happen to be at your side when you wake up, I'll promise you one…"

Unbidden, the night's earlier news broadcast came back to the forefront of her mind, making the redhead grit her teeth.

The way he acted, like everything was all under control…

"...two things, for sure. The first is that I'll always be on your side, supporting you the best way I know how. And the second is–"

Elle gave Suzaku's hand a squeeze, as much to draw support as to give it.

"On my heart… Zero will never, ever hurt you like this again."