"There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures."
- William Shakespeare

Chapter XXXIII: In Memoriam

Japan Memorial Park
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic
September 13, 2025

By now the storms of August had cleared away, and the first traces of autumn were starting to be felt. Gradually the heat and brightness of summer were slowly giving way to cool, crisp air, while the local fauna already began to shift in color. An otherwise picturesque day, it would have been marked with anticipation, if not celebration, as lesser climates finally entered that part of the world and the year nudged closer to its end. Alas it was not to be, and had not been for eight years; eight years since all had been lost to them, and arguably the rest of the world.

In front of the memorial pillar at the center of the park, Kaguya Sumeragi, with the aid of two assistants, walked onto the stage. Before her, the multitudes of Ryukyuan citizens that served as her audience – to say nothing of those that could otherwise not make the trip and were now watching the event live – patiently waited as the Prime Minister of the Ryukyu Republic gradually made her way to the podium. At a specific point, she waved off both assistants, choosing to make the rest of the journey herself. That caused something of an uproar several around her, up to and including many of her subordinates in the government, had near heart attacks in response. Somehow she managed not to grin at the predicament, which calmed considerably upon her demonstrating that she could, in fact, make the rest of the way herself, and look that much more regal for the effort. After another moment or two, the prime minister at last came before the podium, placing her hands on either side as she faced her audience.

"Eight years ago, a great crime was committed," she calmly began, feeling the associated memories beginning to reemerge from within. "A crime so great that it sundered the very earth to its center, forever scarring it and those 'fortunate' enough to survive such calamity."

With that opening, she continued. "We have all lost something to that crime. Family and friends, homes and livelihoods, even simpler things like sight and sound, every one of us has lost something to that horrible, horrible fire. And though a near decade has since passed, only very few have been able to heal, to live on without looking back," she stated with solemn grimness. "Some, including myself, never will."

Feeling a wave of sympathy wash over the gathered, Kaguya pressed on regardless. "Even now, the very last image I ever saw still burns in my eyes. The smoke and fire erupting around me, shattering buildings, blackening the dawn and then reaching out and ensnaring the Citadel mobile field base that I and several others had occupied at the Rebellion's onset. Days since I have tried to forget that terrible sight, to heal and live as those I had cherished would have wished for me. Alas, I cannot, any more than my ears can forget those terrible sounds, the cries of the dead and dying consumed as the world broke and the sky fell."

She took a brief moment to suppress that memory. "That image will remain with me to the day die," the Prime Minister spoke in near confession. "Just as I fear it shall be for many of you."

Though there was no verbal reply from the crowd, Kaguya knew she had spoken the truth regardless. As though, through her blindness, she could yet see the lingering pain and anguish on many of those gathered, and many more that were watching from across the whole of Ryukyu. A harrowing experience to say the least.

"Thus we are gathered here, whether physically or from afar," she continued. "To mark this day, this most infamous day, with remembrance and commemoration; to give honor to that which we have lost, so that we may yet continue on in the hope of respite. Not out of hatred or violence, but out of solemnity and reminiscence. Today we set aside vengeance to celebrate those who are not with us, to pay homage to their memories. For surely they, most of all, would wish us to heal. Surely they would wish us to live on and gain the happiness that they were denied."

Again she could almost feel the somber compliance from the crowd, which she found herself nodding in approval. Indeed, that day would be a day of contemplation and mourning, not a day of vengeful justice. As those men behind her would assure, the war would continue tomorrow. For now however, there would be peace.

"So marks this eighth year, as summer turns to autumn," Kaguya began to finish, smiling as she added. "As the legacy, the final legacy of Japan, gain solace in their march to tomorrow."

Taking some solemn amusement in the choice of ending, the crowd nonetheless applauded their Prime Minister, who smiled back in gratitude. Seven years she had made such speeches upon that exact date, and it never got easier, nor did she ever get used to it. Though this year, she found herself admitting as her assistants entered back in to guide her off the stage, she and those gathered could not help but feel a certain hope through the haze.

Gemini Palace
Pendragon, Grand Duchy of Pennsylvania, Area 1 (North America), Britannian Empire

It was with utmost solemnness that Schneizel stared off into the distance through the window pane, a glass and a bottle of vintage wine by his side. A storm, an actual one, was brewing over Pendragon at that exact time, which the prince found eminently fitting for the present mood. There would be rainfall later, but for now there was only an updraft of wind and peels of soft thunder, while the rest of the city and landscape was cast in shadow. Picturesque in a strange way; Schneizel might have actually enjoyed it alongside the wine had he not been burdened by his memory. A memory, a sin – if such a thing even existed – that spanned eight long years, and was unlikely to ever be forgotten.

To this day he remembered it, from beginning to end. Not just with the Devastation itself, but the whole line of events that transpired it, beginning with the Special Administration Zone and the promise it had held. Though the mere concept had been controversial at the time, with many of his brothers and sisters considering it – in different words and opinions – a grave betrayal of Britannian values, the prince had seen it – at first glance anyway – as something very different. An ideal and much needed solution.

As Chancellor, Schneizel had been well aware of the general resentment from the Areas outside the Homeland, as well as the increasing violence and number of rebellions. Many words and efforts – a fair portion of which regrettably involved arms – had been spent on trying to solve this issue, yet it remained a constant, with Area 11 being but the larger portion of the whole. As farsighted as he was, Schneizel knew that this problem would have only escalated. It would have been years, perhaps decades in the making, but eventually the non-Britannians of each Area would have organized into a formal military apparatus – with aid from Eurasia and China of course – and eventually take the fight back to the Empire. Once that came to be, Britannia's fate would have been inevitable; another in the line of fallen empires that repeatedly marked the course of history.

The SAZ would have solved this issue and many others, especially with Euphemia leading the way. Contrary to the "soft" image she held within their family, Schneizel knew the unyielding strength his younger sister held when it came to noblesse oblige, and all other matters regarding public well-being. If anyone could have made such an abstract concept – at least by conservative Britannian standards – work, it would have been her. She would have returned the former citizens of Japan what they had lost in 2010, up to and including their pride as a people, while simultaneously ensuring that they – and the sakuradite reserves with them – remained in the Empire. From that inevitable success, other SAZs would then be adopted, to such extent that Schneizel actually saw the concept supplanting the Area system, establishing a new form of Britannian dominance in which lesser states and populaces actually vied to join the Empire instead of having to be conquered and annexed. Such would have marked a glorious new age for Britannia and the rest of the world; a true onward march to tomorrow, in which all peoples benefitted. Alas it would never come to pass.

Euphie… Schneizel thought, momentarily closing his eyes. A twist of fate, that's what it had been. A single, utterly horrid twist of fate was all it had taken. To destroy utopia – to destroy Eden in the making.

Through that twist, that single command to "kill all Japanese" had been given, beginning what could only be the end. Schneizel could still remember it all happening before him, as well as the horror he had felt toward. The revulsion that had emerged inside of him as he witnessed innocents slaughtered, one after the other, under the guns of Imperial soldiers. He could remembered how Euphie, covered in blood, cheered on the butchery, wholly enthralled by the carnage. The architect of the promised new age subjected to a bloodlust, a madness, that she could not resist, turning her into one of the greatest mass murderers of all time.

At least until but a few hours later.

Once it had begun, none, not even the White Prince himself, could stop it. For the life of him Schneizel hated himself for it; it had been the first time in an entire age he had felt truly powerless. No matter how many times he looked back to those few hours, no matter how many forms of tactics and diplomacy he concocted, he could not deny that it had been inevitable. That nothing he could have done would have prevented his own command.

Even worse, Schneizel knew he had been entirely justified in giving it. How could he not be? He knew what would have happened had Area 11 been liberated. Unlike Zero and his Black Knights, he had been well aware of the Chinese waiting in the shadows to pounce once the final Britannian unit had been eliminated, alongside a probable Eurasian incursion; scavengers standing by and waiting as the beast of the Black Rebellion became still, from which they would devour the resultant carrion and its sakuradite hide. And that did not discount the Homeland forces that were en route – Schneizel himself having been in command – who would have attempted to retake contested area from such aggressors. A three way war, in other words, fought between the great powers of the world. One that would never had remained confined to that small, seemingly insignificant island in the Far East.

Indeed, no matter how much Schneizel had wished it otherwise, Operation Nero had been the only remaining solution; that the paradise that was the Special Administration Zone of Japan could not have been saved. He hated it, and himself, for it all; well and truly hated. Just as he wished he could have been present there – somehow and in some way – to stop his beloved younger sister before she could begin her slaughter. To prevent Armageddon.

Unfortunately he knew better, which was why he, and the rest of the world, were where they were now. Euphemia remained dead, and the world she had sought to save was fast approaching the brink. And though Zero had long proclaimed his intention to finish that dying world and replace it with a better one, Schneizel could not help but doubt his conviction. For as dedicated to his self-given task as the Demon King presented himself, the White Prince knew that there remained a human underneath that mask. Him, more than all others, knew.

Thus it fell to him, Schneizel el Britannia, to see the coming of a new age. Perhaps not the golden age that Euphemia's vision had promised, but one that would nonetheless offer the possibility. Something that could never occur in these present days, no matter how much Schneizel had once believed otherwise. No matter how much he yearned to change them, as his younger sister had once attempted.

With that resolution, he reached back for the glass and raised it up to the air. "To you Euphie," he spoke softly – once again hoping she heard him wherever she was – before taking his drink.

Imperial Burial Ground
Pendragon, Grand Duchy of Pennsylvania, Area 1 (North America), Britannian Empire

The rain was already starting to fall when Cornelia exited the limousine, her weary eyes scanning her new surroundings. She had always hated visiting this place; despite that she had made it a point to come once every year on this very date – which she had maintained for eight years long – she still felt ill at ease whenever she stepped foot there. The final resting place of much of the Imperial family, extending back to the days of Emperor Richard V himself.

Gilbert, dutiful as always, brought a black umbrella over his liege. Though grateful, Cornelia waved him away, and then began her trek alone. A bit of a risk she admitted, one that she also knew her knight had never been comfortable with, but she would have it no differently. Again as it had been for the last eight years.

Moving through the field, the princess' continued to shift over the landscape, falling upon the multitude of tombstones and monuments therein. The latter seemed to go on through the horizon, there were so many. Part of her wondered about the lives they had been before being interned here; had they been the ancestors that she had heard about in stories? The warriors that had braved the defenders of French Louisiana and Mexico, stood by Emperor Abraham – the progenitor of her own branch of the Imperial family – against Jefferson Davis' traitors and had marched into the southern continent twice over? Or the builders and innovators that had contributed to the Empire's social and technological growth alongside the likes of Emperor Victor and Thomas Edison? The romantic in Cornelia liked to think that at least the majority had those kinds of stories to tell. That, despite what the Eurasians liked to claim, her lineage entailed far more than greed and patricide. Britannia's vast empire, as well as its wealth and treasures, only emphasized such a legacy.

That being said however, there was only one grave in particular Cornelia was there for. Once more the same grave she had visited for the last near decade. Already she could feel her stomach seize and her heart begin to beat heavier as she approached it, that single marker at the far end of the grounds.

As with everyone else, she remembered that day all too vividly, though somewhat differently than others. So angry was she at Euphie for throwing away her claim to the Throne – for "betraying their values" as Cornelia had yelled more than once in that conversation – that she had refused to watch her younger sister's commencement. This had ironically spared her from the events that had transpired – she would never know how she would have taken the image of a bloodstained Euphemia ordering the slaughter of innocents – but at the same time it also had ensured that she had only been aware of her death after the fact. Had she only known what was about to happen, that their bitter exchange prior would be their last…

No, Cornelia wouldn't let that haunt her now, not when she was standing before her younger sister's grave. For what it was worth, the marker of the late Princess Euphemia li Britannia was as beautiful and pristine as ever, much like Euphie herself had been when Cornelia was at last able to find her on the Avalon. Suzaku had claimed to her that the SAZ had been successful right before, a lie that Cornelia was eternally grateful for to the young knight for telling as she saw that Euphie had indeed passed on peacefully. Her body had retained that image as it was at last laid to rest there, despite the fact due to recent events it had taken a few days to organize the funeral. A small comfort for Cornelia, which she took some solace in, for she would always remember her sister as she was. Not the mass murderess the rest of the world remembered her by – assuming that Princess Massacre was remembered at all in the present age – but the beautiful, kind-hearted woman that only wanted the best for all mankind. As well as the great visionary who had seen a peaceful, harmonious world in the making.

That last thought almost made Cornelia sway in her bearing. It was the one point in all of it that she was grateful Euphemia was dead; that she could not see what the world had become in her absence, following the "success" of the SAZ. Indeed she would have despaired toward the Devastation, as well as the Great World War with Eurasia. Alongside what had become of Lelouch and Suzaku therein.

"Yes," Cornelia finally spoke as she gazed down to the grave. "You would have wanted none of this, this carnage and destruction beyond all imagining. You had spent your whole life hoping for something better, and had just taken your first steps toward before the end."

She sighed, trying to imagine how Euphie would have responded, but was ultimately unable to. "It's funny how I've come to realize how forward thinking you had been. If only the rest of us had seen what you had seen at that time; perhaps we could have prevented all of this. But no, it was you, 'Princess Bleeding Heart', that saw the world was indeed going to Hell, and that nobody in Britannia was trying to stop it. Leaving you to take the stand for the rest of us."

Cornelia could not help but scoff at the idea. "I told you I hated you during our last conversation. And in a way I really do," she continued. "What was it that made you so different from the rest of us? At what point did you begin to feel for those less fortunate, when our family looked upon them as mere rabble? When did you ultimately decide to give them your kindness and generosity, when I and any other of our brothers and sisters would have spurned them?"

It was only then that a single tear ran down Cornelia's face. "What made you believe it fell to you to change this world?" she spoke in a whisper. "To do what we, for all of our power and privilege, refused to?"

Silence was her only reply. Not that the elder princess expected anything else. "It's all so ironic," she went on after a short pause. "Only after you had gone had I realized how strong you were. Stronger than me, the so-called Witch of Britannia," she confessed, laughing bitterly at such a claim. "I know you would claim otherwise, but it remains the truth. I could never match your strength or your spirit, not when you chose to fight."

The rain picked up slightly as she went on. "Surely that strength and spirit would have been enough to end all this. As well as usher in the peace and solace we all desire now," Cornelia said, a small smile quirking at the side of her mouth. "Really dear sister, why is it that whenever we need you most, you're otherwise occupied?"

It was an admitted poor attempt at a joke, but Cornelia knew her sister would have laughed regardless. "Oh well, I suppose it falls to your elder then," she shrugged. "For the life of me I still don't know how I'm going to do it, but somehow I'll make it work," her expression then turned serious once more. "Somehow I'll ensure your dream becomes the new reality, status quo be damned. This I promise you."

She then knelt, placing a hand against the cold stone. "Keep resting Euphie," she wished, once again picturing her sister as she once was. "And know that, despite all else, neither you nor your dream are lost."

Tower of the Sun Park
Denver, Grand Duchy of Carthage, Area 1 (North America), Britannian Empire

"It's weird," Anya exclaimed as she looked up at the structure. The strange vaguely bird shaped structure that held three faces – a golden one on its head, a more clay-like rendition on its "belly" and a black painted one on its back.

"I know, right?" Gino chimed as he looked up at the structure rather admiringly. "That's part of the appeal. It's so bizarre it's beautiful."

Anya's expression seemed become even more muted, which Gino had previously thought was physically impossible. "I'll take your word for it," she proclaimed as she looked away, sipping her coffee.

Sighing, Gino could only resolved that avant-garde art wasn't for everyone. Not that he had really appreciated the structure back in the day either; it had been the love of his life that had held a fascination for it, and the Knight of Three suspected that it was more because it had originated from her home nation than for the artistry itself. Which was consequently why he and Anya were there presently, sitting by and otherwise holding their own "silent vigil" of sorts.

Appropriately dubbed the Tower of the Sun – at least in Gino's opinion – the structure was the masterpiece of the great – also in Gino's opinion – Taro Okamoto. Originally created for Japan's '70 Expo, the tower had been widely considered the highlight of the event, only to be left behind and all but completely forgotten in the years after. Ironically it would not be until after the conquest of Japan when the structure would be "rediscovered", with some billionaire becoming so enamored by it that, at personal expense, he had it restored and relocated to Britannia proper. There it would remain from then on, effectively spared the fate of its original country.

Though a prominent fixture even by Denverite standards, it was in the following eight years that the tower, and the park that hosted it, became an object of fascination to the Britannian public. Again not so much for the artistry, but rather what it represented. The last grand design of a lost nation – whether Japan or Area 11 – and therefore an appropriate marker for those that had been lost with it. Thus every year upon that exact date, those that wished to remember congregated to the park and held their vigils underneath the tower, whether it be a silent observance or the more traditionally Britannian drinking and celebrating the "better parts" of life. The twenty-fifth year of the present century was no different. Aside from the Knight of Six choosing to join in the festivities of course.

As with the rest, Gino had come to the park every year since '17, though in actuality he had been a more frequent visitor before. For whatever she thought of its host structure, Aoi had always enjoyed coming there and taking in its splendor. She had even claimed that it held the best parts of both Britannia and Japan; the beauty of both nations together.

A tinge of melancholy entered Gino as he thought further on that. It had been after one such date in that park that the confrontation with his mother and father had occurred. And as much as Gino wished to forget it, he could knew he would never be able to. The image of his father beating Aoi to an inch of her life, followed by the intense pain of his turning upon him when he tried to defend her. And then the even greater pain as he helplessly watched her shield him from the remainder of the beating, right before she was physically thrown out of the house…

He shook his head on that, somehow managing to force it away. If nothing else, that bloodletting had been settled long ago – at least for him – and Gino would be damned before he gave his parents another thought beyond it. Especially when the day was about her.

"What was she like?" Anya inquired, bringing Gino back into the present.

Gino smiled as he brought around those specific memories. "She was kind and soft-spoken," he said. "As well as graceful and noble, more than you would expect for a 'lowly maid.' In fact, she always came more across as a character from a good romance novel."

He couldn't but sigh airily at the images in his head. "Admittedly she was quite cold when she first arrived at my family's estate, but through a fair amount of effort, I managed to win her around," he proclaimed. "Took me a whole summer and a lot of labor to prove to her that my feelings were genuine."

Anya easily caught onto this. "What did you get her?"

The Knight of Three shrugged. "A ring," he said. "Nothing really fancy. Just silver with the biggest sapphire I could find and afford on my own," he then laughed a little. "I actually tried to present it as an engagement ring, but I was never sure if she believed that or not."

The Knight of Six did well not to lazily roll her eyes. Somehow that sounded like her friend and comrade.

"For what it was worth," Gino continued. "She had it all the way to the end. When…" he trailed off, unable to speak further on that.

Thus it was all Anya could do to say. "I see."

Sighing again, this time more despondently, Gino found himself staring at the ground. "You think," he began again. "You think…if what happened eight years ago never…that…?"

"You would have found her again?" Anya exclaimed, already having taken out her phone and snapping pictures for her Facebook page. "Gotten married? Had a family?"

Gino couldn't help but laugh a little at Anya's still-deadpan demeanor. "Something like that."

"Possible," Anya said as she then turned and snapped a picture of the tower. "But will never know for sure."

Somehow Gino found some peace in that answer. Yeah, there was no way to know for sure now. Even if Aoi was still alive, as he often found himself daring to hope.

"You're right," he responded back, smiling down in a strange solace. If nothing else, he still had his memories of her. Which were consequently all he had of her now.

Bering Palace
Saint George Island, Grand Duchy of Sunderland, Area 2 (Canada), Britannian Empire

It was a cold, cloudy day, as usual in that part of the world. Made even colder as summer began to fade, though the island remained predominantly green, which was just enough for Suzaku to tell that fall was not entirely there yet. Not that it really mattered to him; he was due to return to the Western Front in a day or two, where he would again do battle against the Eurasians under the banner of Prince Hannes. Again bring Britannia closer to complete global conquest.

Until that day or two had passed however, Suzaku remained a "guest" of Princess Nunnally, and he would do all he – and his host with him – could to enjoy it. At present, Nunnally was still soundly asleep, despite the fact it was well into the morning. Suzaku need not turn his head to see her through the glass doors – covered only in bed sheets – at peace with the world around her. A part of her envied her for that; peace was a rare commodity in the current age, especially for him. How many nights had he been unable to sleep through? And only rarely with her there when he awoke, to comfort him and reassure him that they had only been bad dreams and nothing else?

The thought caused a sad smile to form on his lips. If only they had, in fact, been mere dreams. And not the horrors of eight years constant, beginning on that fated day.

Euphie… Suzaku thought as he stared out over the sea, listening as the waves crashed upon the shoreline. The memories didn't hurt as much as they used to, he admitted. Time and the love and care of another had granted him some comfort from that dark day, when everything that he loved and fought for ended in blood, smoke and ruin. Even so, the pain – even in lesser amounts – remained to him, alongside the vividness. And they would always remain so, no matter how many more times he found himself in Nunnally's arms.

He need not even sleep to relive the events of that day. Just by closing his eyes he could see Euphie, her white dress stained with blood, falling to Zero's gunshot. He could hear his own cry in horror as he had the Lancelot dive after her body, narrowly avoiding the Gawain's hadron cannon fire in the process, and then take her back to the Avalon. And from there, he recalled his last words to her; his lie that the SAZ had been a success, and peace and harmony were roundly restored to Japan. Followed by her own eyes closing for the last time.

For Suzaku, it was at that precise moment when the world had begun to irreparably darken. And not just because of the events thereafter, whether they be his seeing Zero's true face or the Devastation itself. Euphie's death had been the catalyst of those things, yes, but it also had been the end of hope and the coming of despair. For no one else, not even the likes of Prince Schneizel, could attempt what she had and make it work. Just as no one else – not even his erstwhile friend turned mortal enemy – could grant him the redemption he had thought impossible.

Indeed no one else could save his wretched soul. Much less make him feel as though he still had one the way she had.

Something in him laughed as he only then realized his error. Euphie hadn't simply made him feel he 'still had' his soul; she had made him feel as though he had regained it. Having lost it to his first true sin, well before he had ever met her.

"So you continue to remember," that damnable baritone spoke as its owner's form came beside him, trenchcoat waving as the wind started to blow. "As well as acknowledge the truth."

Despite the condemnation behind that voice, Suzaku partly smiled at his father's specter. "Of course I do," he replied. "As you told me before, no man can ever forget the first blood spilled on his hands."

"Indeed," Genbu said. "Then you also remain aware of what awaits you…"

"There is no need to remind me of that," Suzaku countered, now irritated. "I had long resigned myself to that fate, so long as I am able to choose its implementation."

Genbu coldly smiled in reply. "Interesting choice of words my son," he exclaimed, casting a corner glance to the still sleeping Nunnally. "Though I suspect she would wish otherwise. As would Euphie."

"Leave Nunnally out of this," Suzaku almost snarled, though a part of her understood the truth of his father's words. Nunnally, and Euphie with her, would have tried.

Alas, as Suzaku was well aware, fate would never be denied. "And regardless of all else, Euphie is dead," he stated with as much coldness as he could muster. "What she would have wished for me is irrelevant now."

His eyes then turned into a glare, though he still refused to face his father. "If I am well and truly set, then I will see it through, but it will be done by my own choice," he glowered. "Make no mistake about that."

Genbu nodded at this. "And Lelouch?"

Suzaku sniffed derisively at that name. "I admit the choice is his as well," he muttered. "However, I believe he will follow through on it regardless."

"Because you wish it?" Genbu inquired, eyeing his son carefully.

"Because our reckoning is inevitable," Suzaku resolved simply, his eyes softening – though retaining their saddened acceptance – as they focused back on the sea. Trying hard not to envision what lay ahead of him, and the rest of the world. "As it has always been."

Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

It seemed so long ago, in an entirely different age. In a way, Lelouch supposed, it really had been. For each of the images he scrolled through on his monitor, there was an abundant sense of ease and harmony, if not outright peace. Snapshots of eight years prior, of the days of Ashford Academy, the Student Council and all of the oft crazed antics therein. A time well before the SAZ, the Black Rebellion and all that was to follow.

Sighing as he looked upon a particular image. It was one of the myriad costume festivals Milly liked to throw, specifically the one whose theme was Alice in Wonderland. He and Nunnally had dressed as the Mad Hatter and Alice respectively, while Milly made herself out as the Duchess, Kallen was the March Hare, Rivalz the Dormouse, Shirley the Fawn, Nina the Cook and Suzaku the Knight of the White. C.C. had also managed to infiltrate, with her wearing a rather revealing Cheshire Cat outfit – consisting of cat ears, red top, pink bikini bottom and red and orange striped sleeves stockings – in the background. Had it been eight years ago Lelouch would have double taked at his erstwhile partner sneaking into the shot so brazenly, but now he merely chuckled at seeing her there. Among the friends – the family – he and Nunnally had gained for themselves; the one form of peace he still had when he had since taken on the mask of Zero.

Everything had been so simple, so beautiful then. It had held its fair share of problems and difficulties, yes; the ongoing Insurrection, his keeping Nunnally and himself off of Britannia's radar and Milly's more insane antics to name a few. Yet it had also been the one time in his life where Lelouch vi Britannia had been a normal person; when Zero had been a mere alter ego while the real him remained a high school student. When he and Nunnally could go out into the open without fear of recognition or persecution; when they had well and truly been out of their father's reach. And, of course, it had been a time where he had his friends. The boys and girls he had grown close to – in spite of all that he had originally lost – and come to see as his real family. More so than he had ever felt for the vast majority of his blood brothers and sisters.

Even now, he remembered it all so vividly that if he closed his eyes, he could almost return. The days when he and Rivalz would sneak out to hustle chess matches with rich and overconfident nobility. When Milly came up with some new abstract party, in which he would be either forced to rein her in or to actually join the latest form of insanity. When he would be lectured at by Shirley for skipping those classes, and when he and Nina would work together on one of their relatively unconventional science projects. And, of course, when the worst thing he had to worry about as Zero was being found out, such that he went well out of his way to keep all of them – as well as Kallen and Suzaku – well in the dark. To the point of chasing a damned cat all over the school in fact, when he had been nowhere near as athletic as he was now.

He dearly missed those days, and often wondered what would have happened had he not gone into Shinjuku that day. Had he chosen, for once, to ignore his usual altruism and not climb into the crashed truck, and just return to Ashford with Rivalz then and there. Would he have been able to keep those peaceful days? Would he been able to simply go on and graduate Ashford, go onto college, perhaps even marry Shirley – if and when he ever figured out her feelings for him – and have children? Would he never have met C.C., Kallen, Ohgi and the other future Black Knights?

Would…would the Devastation never occur?

That was as far as Lelouch went before he shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. It would not do him well to go down that path, not when he was still living under the shadow of the present day eight past. Like it or not, it had all happened. He had climbed into the truck with the "bioweapon" and had been brought unceremoniously into Clovis' slaughter of Shinjuku. He had met Suzaku and C.C., and had chosen to accept the latter's contract. He had led the members of his future army to near victory. And he had shot Clovis in retaliation for his sins.

He had accepted the mask then, and he had reaccepted it in the Bering Strait. Thus there would be no going back for him, or anyone else.

It was a saddening prospect, but still one Lelouch could live with, or could only live with to be more precise. He could never go back to those carefree days, he knew. Too much about himself, and the rest of the world, had changed since then. He was no longer the physically weak teenager that playacted as a revolutionary or a demon; now he really was both, as well as a warrior on equal ground to Suzaku as the scar over his left eye illustrated. Just as the world was now one of all-consuming war rather than uneasy peace. A world well within its final days.

Still, that didn't mean it was all bleak. There were yet some bright spots to be had in the present. Such as it was when a "SOUND ONLY" window (re)appeared at the corner of Lelouch's screen. "Yes?"

"It's ready sir," Diethard answered from the other end. "You will only have a half-hour at most, but the channel is secure. You may begin at any time."

"Very well," Lelouch answered as he saw the designated channel appear on his monitor. "Thank you Colonel."

He then switched over to the new channel, which was also sound only. Silence greeted him at first, to the point that Lelouch wasn't sure if he should speak first or not. However, after a minute or two, an all too familiar voice came through loud and clear.

"Lelouch?" the voice called out from far away Britannia. "Are you really there?"

Hearing her voice for what felt like the real first time in eight years, Lelouch could only smile. "I'm here Milly," he replied, picturing her own responding smile. "It's been far too long."

Hoshitaka Residence
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"My sincerest compliments," Kallen exclaimed as she took another bite of her stew meet. "You still make the best soki in all Ryukyu, Aoi."

Aoi nodded in gratitude. "I appreciate such compliments Major Kouzuki," she answered back, taking a sip of her awamori. "I was actually afraid my skills were getting rusty. I don't cook as often as I like to anymore."

C.C. answered this by taking a deliberate bite of her pork ribs. "Nope, Kallen's right. You still have the touch," the immortal "witch" spoke between mouthfuls. "You must have been quite the chef."

The former maid only smiled sweetly. "Something like that," she said, remembering such days for only a moment. "I had to go overseas to work and support my family back home. As it turned out my employers loved Japanese food, so every now and then I would make them meals like this in between my actual job."

"Which was, if I may ask?" Kallen inquired.

Aoi shrugged. "I was a maid," she answered. "For a certain high profile family."

"Britannian nobility?" C.C. again spoke in between a mouthful.

"Yes," Aoi confirmed as well. "It actually was good work, and I was treated well enough. And more importantly I made enough to get my brothers and sisters out of the ghettos."

That brought about another round of memories, which caused her to sigh. "Unfortunately none of them made it past the Devastation," she admitted, taking on some melancholy. "But then that's the whole point of this day, isn't it? To commemorate those who were lost."

"Very much so," Kallen agreed entirely. It still hurt eight years later, she admitted, but her own family would have wanted her to celebrate their memory in that manner. To remember all the good times they had over the bad, which had been plenty enough outside Britannia's conquest.

C.C. also nodded in acknowledgment, despite her family having died well before the Devastation. It was a little strange in that context, celebrating the life and legacy of her father Jacques, her mother Isabelle and her siblings Jacquemin, Jean, Pierre and Catherine over food and drink that they would never had been able to conceive of. But then, she had done stranger things in her immortal lifetime, beginning with her original Tour de France as the "imposter" Jeanne des Armoises.

The memory almost brought a smile to her face, but she managed to keep it off. Last thing she needed now was for Kallen or Aoi to inquire what she was thinking about. "Is that ring from someone you else you lost?" C.C. looked toward Aoi's chained engagement ring.

Aoi nodded. "Not through the Devastation," she admitted, her hand reaching up to hold the ring, so that her eyes could regard it. "I lost him well before that."

Now Kallen was getting interested. "What was he like?" she inquired, the romantic in her coming into the open.

Smiling warmly toward those memories, Aoi was all too please to answer. "He was a younger man, and something of a spoiled brat," she began with. "He could be very awkward and naïve at times."

Her smile only emphasized as she added. "But he was also warm and open minded, and surprisingly hard working. Not at all what I thought of him when we first met," she explained further. "He was more of a man than anyone gave him credit for."

She then sighed. "I don't think I'll ever meet another like him. And even if I did…"

"Yeah," Kallen replied sympathetically, knowing exactly what she meant. C.C. remained her forwardly stoic self.

Aoi then looked toward the pair with her own curiousness. "What about the two of you?" she reflected. "Anyone special in your lives, past or present?"

That caught Kallen somewhat off guard, such that she almost stammered to come up with a kind dismissal. This time, however, C.C. entered in her place. "I had one," she began with. "And only one."

Hearing that, Kallen was barely able to conceal her astonishment as the "witch" went on. "He was a lot like what you described, though he was more of an idealist. He always believed the world could have been better than it was, and that, if people chose to, they could make it happen."

She shook her head at the idea. "Honestly he made me ill when he spoke like that," she admitted. "But at the same time, that's what made him special. To me and to those he led."

It was Kallen who asked the question. "What happened to him?"

C.C. looked at Kallen near deadpan. "Obviously, he died during the Rebellion," she stated, casually taking a sip of her own. "And there hasn't been anyone like him since."

"I see," Aoi spoke in her own sympathy, blissfully unaware of the real depth behind C.C.'s story. She then turned to Kallen. "What about you Kallen?"

This time, Kallen opened her mouth to speak, but was unable to find the appropriate words. How could she explain something like that? Especially when she was still unsure of it herself?

Somehow managing not shake her head in disappointment, C.C. again came to her support. "Major Kouzuki has her own special someone, yes," she confirmed. "But, much to everyone's irritation, it's still a work in progress."

"That's not surprising. A lot of relationships start like that," Aoi chuckled, looking over Kallen's face. "At the same time however, he must be someone really grand to attract you Kallen."

"Please," Kallen responded back blandly. "He's as infuriating as they come, and possibly even more idealistic than the one Cera described."

The Dragoness took a smart bite of her pork ribs before finally admitting. "But at the same time, he is the noblest, most selfless man I've ever met," she said as her eyes drifted off somewhat. "So much so that he actually saved my life eight years ago and never realized it."

It wasn't hard to guess who exactly the ace was referring to. Though she may have not been the smartest woman in the world, Aoi Hoshitaka was no fool, especially when only one name – or more precisely one number – came to mind with that slight description and its association to the Red Dragoness. Still, as she brought her drink back up to her lips, Aoi pretended to remain oblivious.

"As I said, grand," she repeated, flashing a knowing smirk to Cera in the process. "For what it's worth, I hope the best for you both Kallen. Especially in the world we have now."

Kallen nodded in appreciation. "I'm grateful for that Aoi," she acknowledged, her mind remaining on Lelouch for but a moment longer. Somehow keeping from shuttering as she saw – despite what had occurred between them only a few weeks prior – how far she still had to go. For and with him.

Kin Bay
Kin, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"I don't know," Charmelle dryly commented as she herself looked toward the horizon. "It still seems pretty far away, even from this side of the island."

Alfred rolled his eyes with faux exaggeration. "What are you talking about? It's practically right in front of us!" he exclaimed, causing his fellow Guren pilot to laugh. "If you look close enough, you can see New Liverpool from here!"

"Sure," Charmelle retorted with an expression that spoke volumes of belief. "And if I look real close enough, I'll see Shirley Fenette's house in Hollywood, right?"

"You're catching on!" Alfred let out a laugh of his own. "Shame we don't have any binoculars. I hear Denver gets really nice this time a year, just before winter."

"And if we had a telescope, perhaps we could spy on Pendragon as well," Charmelle chided. "Maybe even get a firsthand look on what Prince Schneizel does in his free time."

"Or the Emperor even," Alfred added, much to their shared amusement.

It was somewhat unorthodox, but after all their exchanges on how far their former Homeland was from their new one, the two Zero Squadron aces had chosen to spend their day of remembrance on the eastern most part of Okinawa. Naturally it didn't bring them any closer to Britannia outside a few kilometers, but it was still a switch from remaining in Naha with everyone else. And with summer giving way to Fall, they were very much the only ones on the beach at that time.

"Yeah," Charmelle exclaimed after their shared laughter, continuing to stare off toward the horizon. "The real sad thing is I know we're going to see the Homeland again all too soon, but it will be in the same manner as when we moved into Pendragon."

Alfred shrugged. "Well, unfortunately, it has it coming," he answered back. "And we'll never win this war without a direct invasion anyway."

"I know that, but…" Charmelle sighed. "Eight years later and I still can't believe it's come to this. How you and I are going against everything we once believed in, what we once stood for."

"As well as those we once held dear, yes," Alfred agreed, before catching himself. "Well, in my case at least. Somehow I don't think you'll have as much a problem."

Charmelle smiled. "Probably not," she said, imagining how her father and the rest of his family would react upon seeing her storming Boston in her Guren. "Still, I don't know whether I should look forward to that grand return or not. Even if it does win us the war."

"You and every other Britannian on this island Charmelle," Alfred replied, daring to put his arm on her shoulder. "Including me."

Charmelle reached up and held his hand in reassurance. "You think," she began again after a brief moment. "They know we're coming?"

The former Glaston nodded. "Cornelia would," he answered back. "It's probably why we haven't seen or heard from her since Pendragon."

"And if she would, then Schneizel wouldn't be too far behind," Charmelle frowned. "Nor would the Emperor."

"I can believe it," Alfred replied. "Though if it's any consolation, we still have a ways to go before we hit Pendragon again."

"Agreed," Charmelle acknowledged. Though nothing had been verified yet, there were already rumors that the Black Knights would entering the Far East soon enough. And, of course, nobody believed Zero would leave the Middle East unattended for long. "The closer we get, the farther we still have yet to go apparently."

Alfred nodded to this. "Even so, we can only continue. Otherwise everything we have done to get this far amounts to nothing."

"Indeed," Charmelle replied, before considering. "You regret that you came this way at all?"

"Not in the least," Alfred answered, taking on an only slightly forced smile. He then turned back toward the horizon himself. "Though I still can't say if my father and my brothers would have approved or not."

Charmelle said nothing to this, as there was really nothing she could say. Unlike her, Alfred had been very close to his own family, such that, eight years onward, he still lived under their shadow. She herself could only imagine how General Andreas Darlton would have reacted to his youngest son becoming a Black Knight and turning against the empire he and his children had all sworn to serve and protect.

"Regardless however," Alfred spoke up again. "If I had no chosen this path, I would still be fighting for an evil system. Perhaps even died doing so."

"I see," Charmelle replied.

It was then Alfred redirected the question. "And you?" he posited. "You regret turning against the nation and family that loved you oh so much?"

That earned another laugh. "If there's anything I regret in all this," Charmelle retorted. "It's that I haven't had bangers and mash eight years running."

Alfred laughed back at the notion. "Well, there's no helping that," he rejoined. "Myself, I wouldn't mind having a decent ribeye again. With a pint of Camelot."

"Ugh," Charmelle responded with a mock disgusted glance. "You actually drink that swig?"

"Oh?" Alfred redirected. "And I suppose your choice of alcohol is much better?"

Charmelle smiled. "I'm from Massachusetts, so Boston Pride all the way," she shot back.

Alfred actually found himself nodding in approval. "I've had it. It's pretty good."

"Isn't it?" Charmelle gleamed, causing them both to sigh again. As they both had agreed on, the Homeland and all that it held still seemed far away. "I suppose we both can put up with rafute and Orion for that much longer."

"Not that those are bad of course," Alfred answered back, now unable to help but think of that steak as he looked out over the everlasting Pacific. Charmelle felt much the same toward her bangers and mash.

Yogi Park
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

"Looks like Naoko has a boyfriend now," Chigusa observed as one of the other boys, whose name and family she didn't know, presented their daughter with a flower he had picked from nearby.

"The hell she does," Ohgi let out, already getting a headache from the prospect. He knew he would have to face it eventually, but not this soon. "She's a decade too early to even think about boys like that."

Chigusa could only laugh at her husband. "Don't worry Kaname, I doubt anything will really come of it," she assured, before grinning slyly. "But on the off chance…"

"No way in hell Chigusa," Ohgi glowered. "And when it is time, I'm going to have Intelligence run a full background check, right down to the brand of toothpaste he uses."

"And if it's a Britannian brand, you'll suspect him as a spy, right?" Chigusa chided.

"Right," Ohgi retorted, smiling back evilly. "And I will personally head the tribunal."

Chigusa chuckled at the idea. Somehow she could see that actually happening. "I'm surprised you wouldn't have Iga 'disappear' the poor kid straight out."

"Nah, that would be too much even for me," Ohgi answered. "Just a quick trial, a guilty verdict and his being thrown into the deepest hole I can find. That will be enough."

"Somehow that doesn't sound too much better," Chigusa countered sardonically.

It was then that Naoto wandered back over to his twin, ensuring that Naoko and her "boyfriend" wouldn't be the sole pair playing in that part of the playground. Though Ohgi knew nothing would come of it otherwise, that made him relax somewhat. Allowing for a moment of calm to come between him and Chigusa.

"Eight years Kaname," Chigusa finally spoke again, this time solemnly. "Eight years from what should have been the end of the world. And yet here we still are."

"I know the feeling Chigusa," Ohgi murmured, remembering that exact day in full detail. Including the part where she shot him, though obviously he didn't dwell on that. "Almost a decade later and it still feels like a dream."

Chigusa nodded to this, glancing more deeply toward her children. "For the life of me I didn't think we would end up like this," she almost confessed. "Especially after…"

"None of it was your fault," Ohgi retorted. "Least of all the Devastation."

The Britannian woman arched an eyebrow. "Including my shooting you and leaving you for dead?"

Ohgi considered that for a moment. "Okay, that was your fault," he replied in pure jest. "Though technically I was taking advantage of an amnesiac. Not exactly the most noble thing I ever did."

Again Chigusa chuckled. "It could have been worse Kaname," she said as she drew closer to him. "And in the end it worked out for us, despite all that happened in the interim."

"No disagreement there," Ohgi replied all too happily as he drew his arm around his wife. "Though I wish it hadn't…cost so much for us to be together."

"I know," Chigusa acknowledged. "I very much wish for that as well."

For a brief moment, she remembered those she failed to save in the aftermath, when she aided in the search and rescue efforts. "But at the same time, there's no helping that now. Not that I think those who couldn't be saved would begrudge us for being happy."

"Perhaps," Ohgi replied, at least hoping for that prospect. "Still, I would have loved to have raised Naoto and Naoko in a newborn Japan," his expression darkened somewhat. "What should we should have one that day."

"I know dear," Chigusa again acknowledged. "But again, there's no helping that now."

"Yeah," Ohgi sighed. "Still, I suppose we could be doing a lot worse than Ryukyu," he mused. "We could have ended up in Karafuto if we hadn't sold the island back to Eurasia in '45. And then there's that continent even further south."

"Australia?" Chigusa exclaimed. "Japan actually considered colonizing that?"

"It was suggested off and on all the way to the Kururugi administration," Ohgi informed. "Or so the leftover government records claim."

Chigusa actually grimaced at the idea. As far as anyone was concerned, Australia, New Holland or what have you was the land of the damned. Several countries had attempted to colonize it, including Britannia in the late 18th century, only to see each of those colonies disappear virtually overnight to famine, disease and the ever hostile wildlife. Needless to say, Chigusa would have almost rather died in the Devastation than end up there following.

"Regardless of all that, this is Japan now," Ohgi exclaimed, looking toward his children again. "If not in form, then definitely in spirit. And I wouldn't trade it, or us, for anything else."

He then grinned. "Despite my having gotten shot in the process."

Chigusa laughed mildly as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Neither would I Kaname," she exclaimed. "I wouldn't trade this for anything else either."

She then grinned back. "Despite my suffering amnesia and being taken in by a strange Eleven with less than noble intentions."

That earned a laugh on her husband's part as well.

Tohdoh Residence
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

The woman known as Nagisa Chiba was many things. Most knew here as a capable soldier, a skilled knightmare pilot and, when the situation called for it, a gifted commander. She could also be a good friend and comrade to those she was close to, as well as a devoted lover to the one man that mattered to her in absolute. And of course, she was a dedicated follower of God on high, as evidenced by the worn silver cross around her neck that she was never without. All that aside however, very few had the privilege of knowing her for her culinary skills.

Indeed, as much as Tohdoh wished for her otherwise than to be serving him dinner, whether on that particular day or any other, he could not deny that cooking was one of Chiba's most unrecognized talents. Though the entrée for the night was simple oden, the aroma alone was enough to entice the Black Knight General into full hunger. For the life of him he could not do without the food that she made for him, and only him, much as he felt further damned by it.

Before he knew it, Chiba exited the kitchen and silently placed the two steaming bowls on the table before taking her seat across. Though there had been some debate on whether Tohdoh and the Four Holy Swords should commemorate this day together, it was ultimately just he and her there now. Asahina, Urabe and Senba had all opted to spend the holiday with their own families, with the former two having married not long after the cataclysm while Senba's son and his own family, including said grandchildren, had somehow survived that dark day. Tohdoh more than suspected that had all been a deliberate effort to give he and Chiba some alone time, but unfortunately his subordinates were to discreet to have made that apparent. He could only curse them for such efforts.

No word still being spoken between them, Chiba quietly began to eat her own oden, prompting Tohdoh to follow her example. For a moment his eyes drew to the visible silver cross, and the word "AGNES" that was engraved upon it. Even after all these years, he still did not know the significance of that word. In fact, he had never asked her what it meant to her, as though he were afraid to hear the explanation. Just one of many things he did not know of Chiba's background; one of many things he never chose to speak to her over, nor she him. As though their being commander and subordinate was, and would always be, the full extent of their relationship.

Again Tohdoh felt his insides darken at the thought, though not quite enough that it kept him from eating. He had known Nagisa Chiba for fifteen years – well before the September 13th of 2017 – and yet he did not know her at all, at least beyond what she could do in a knightmare frame and for him. At the same time, he had never been very open toward her about his own background and character; most what she had come to knew from him seemed to be from observation and little else. Not that he hated her or anything to that extent – far from it – but Kyoshiro Tohdoh had resigned himself long ago to be a soldier first and foremost. That things like "love" and "family" were simply not for him, as compared to his serving and protecting his home country and the innocents therein.

Yet here they were, acting as husband and wife of a sort. The irony was almost as abundant as the present aroma.

"Is it warm enough?" Chiba spoke up suddenly, almost causing Tohdoh to flinch.

After a moment for the words to register, Tohdoh nodded in confirmation. "It's perfect," he complimented. "As usual, you make an excellent dish Chiba."

Though she forwardly remained stoic, Tohdoh was more than aware of Chiba's body language now that he could tell his praise was well received. "I'm glad General," she replied before she continued eating.

Taking a drink of his beer, Tohdoh still observed her even as he also ate, his own set of memories entering his mind.

Itsukushima. That's where it had all started. The day before the battle that would mark his career, as well as set he and the woman known as Nagisa Chiba on their present path. The day he felt he had committed his gravest sin.

He should have known better, he knew then. The night she had to come to him with her all too simple request, he knew the answer he should have given her. Only, how could he have done so? With the Britannians set to take the island, and all of them set to die defending it, how could he have turned her down? Especially when…?

The General somehow managed not to shake his head at the thought. Yes they were sure to die the following morning, but that was no excuse. It was for that exact reason that the JSDF had instituted those specific regulations, so that such outcomes, and even worse ones, could be prevented. And as he had all too often instructed the men and women under his command, such rules were to be observed even to the point of death, no matter the inevitability.

The result only spoke for itself, right before him. He had broken her, completely and irrevocably. He had broken a beautiful young woman – who at the time had only just entered adulthood – and made her what she was now. The eternal follower, subordinate and lover of a most unworthy man.

"General?" Chiba questioned again, the expression on her face now being one of concern. It was then that Tohdoh realized that his thoughts had entered onto his face.

"It's nothing Chiba," he lied, attempting to come up with an explanation. "Just…memories of the day, as with everything else."

Whether or not Chiba suspected more, she nodded regardless. "I see sir," she answered back. "If you wish to eat alone…"

"That won't be necessary," Tohdoh replied, despite himself, before giving her a slight grin. "Besides, I would be want not to enjoy this meal with its chef."

Again Chiba's face brightened, this time more so. "I'm grateful sir," she replied, again returning to the silence of their meal.

Forcing any further thoughts on the subject away, Tohdoh concentrated on his soup. Like most forms of comfort food, it had a feeling of nostalgia to it, reminding Tohdoh of the cold winters of Esashi. That brought to mind his family, and the warm meals they shared together on such frigid nights.

Once more, despite everything, that memory wasn't far from what he was feeling in the present. For whatever else there was between him and Chiba, at least he knew there was that.

Ashford Estate
New York City, Grand Duchy of New York, Area 1 (North America), Britannian Empire

"It's almost too good to be true," Milly spoke in near astonishment as she stared in near disbelief at the "SOUND ONLY" window on her monitor. "I was actually afraid you would never get your memories back, at least for a while."

"Yeah," Rivalz commented from beside her. "The way things were going around here, I thought you'd never get out of your funk," he then looked up in thought. "At least not with anything short of a cartoon hammer, or Kallen's fist, give or take."

A bit of laughter responded from the other end. "I see you haven't lost that part of your character Rivalz," Lelouch shot back. Unlike Milly, this was actually the first time he was speaking to his friend and former cohort in crime in eight years, with or without his memories. "How long have you two…?"

"Just after Lelouch," Milly replied, with Rivalz resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you can understand how and why."

"Yes," Lelouch answered back with some melancholy. Rivalz's feelings for Milly had been a facet all the way back to Ashford Academy, but as with everyone else, Lelouch never thought they would actually be reciprocated. But then, after the sheer loss they had all incurred, he supposed anything was possible anymore. "My congratulations to you Rivalz, for accomplishing what I and the rest of the student body never thought would happen in our wildest dreams."

"Heh," Rivalz laughed. "You and me both 'Your Highness'," he shot back, then bringing up that particular subject. "And what's this about you being a prince all of a sudden? Have you been holding out on me?"

Another laugh. "No more than I've done with everyone else, outside Her Grace there of course," he retorted. "Suffice to say my going around the academy as 'Lelouch vi Britannia' as opposed to 'Lelouch Lamperouge' would have been very inconvenient at best."

"I suppose it would," Rivalz replied, dutifully not mentioning Nunnally going around as 'Nunnally vi Britannia' alongside. "Though it would have made those chess matches all the more interesting, not to mention profitable."

"Believe me Rivalz, that name is far more trouble than it's worth," Lelouch responded. "Not that Zero is any better I suppose."

"Speaking of that," Milly spoke up again. "We've been watching all the action from home. From Pearl all the way to the Red Rebellion," she commented. "You've been busy as of late Lelouch."

"As have you Milly," Lelouch commented back. "Organizing the whole student body into an underground resistance? Somehow that seems like something only you would do."

"Heh, well," Milly shrugged at the indirect praise. "What can I say? We've run out of cats to chase and giant pizzas to bake."

"And even then, it's nothing compare to what you've done, Mr. Demon King," Rivalz countered. "I mean, running an entire military organization from your dorm room? Not to mention dressing up like the Phantom of the Opera while doing it?"

"And launching the largest rebellion Britannia had ever seen in but a few months' time, yes I know Rivalz," Lelouch replied, this time sounding mellower. "Though I can't say I'm entirely proud of the outcome."

Rivalz opened his mouth to reply, but Milly spoke first. "The Devastation was not your doing Lelouch," she responded. "There was no way…"

"I could have known?" Lelouch finished for her. "You're right of course Milly. Though it took some time for me to come to terms with it," he said. "Still, it's not something I think fondly upon."

He then chose to move onto a different subject. "On that note, how are Shirley and Nina doing? I heard Shirley's an up and coming actress now."

"Among other things, yes," Milly confirmed, biting her tongue at the mention of Nina. "She's asked about you more than once, by the way."

A brief pause before the reply. "I see," Lelouch answered. "And Nina?"

This time it was Rivalz that spoke. "Let's just say she has a government job now," he said, none too happy. "Right after she tried to blow up Japan herself."

Another pause, this one longer. "Schneizel?" he questioned.

"We think," Milly confirmed. "He's the most likely suspect, but then, you still have many more brothers and sisters out there."

"I know," Lelouch acknowledged, thinking. "You have any idea what she's making specifically?"

"Not yet, though chances are it will be something that goes boom," Milly answered, then thinking of something else. "On another note, did Colonel Reid ever fill you in on Uther?"

"Yes, he brought it to my attention," Lelouch confirmed. "Unfortunately however, neither I nor the Black Knights with me can do anything about it right now."

"I know, and neither can we," Rivalz replied. "It's too isolated for us to get an agent in there, no matter the club."

"Heh," Lelouch chuckled at that mention. The idea of an underground resistance being organized along the lines of after school clubs. He almost wished he had thought of that with the Black Knights, though obviously it wouldn't have taken. "Well, it will be some time yet, but chances are we'll deal with it soon enough. Once we're done with the apparent world tour."

"I see," Milly said, easily reading between the lines. "And since we're talking about old Student Council members, how's Kallen?"

Yet another pause. "She's doing well," Lelouch said, somehow managing to disguise his discomfort. "Fighting the good fight with the rest of us."

"So we've seen," Rivalz said, recalling footage of Zero Squadron in action in China. It had actually been through Kallen and her associate "Cera Cathcart" that he, Milly and Shirley had regained their own memories. Only a few months after they had initially lost them in fact. "And C.C.?"

"More or less the same," Lelouch said, a little bemused at how the Student Council was, at long last, aware of C.C.'s existence now. "If you've seen any footage of a pink knightmare fighting off Sutherlands wholesale, that's her."

"Heh," both Milly and Rivalz laughed. "I wish I thought of that," the former confessed. "Had I ever become a devicer myself anyway."

"Believe me Milly, you're doing far more good where you are now," Lelouch assured. "You and the rest of Ashford have been invaluable."

The pair smiled appreciatively. "Praise from the Demon King himself," Rivalz exclaimed proudly. "My life is officially complete."

"Not mine," Milly stated, now with a tinge of cold bitterness. "Not until I ground my heel on 'His Imperial Majesty's' skull."

Both Rivalz and Lelouch said nothing to this, to which Milly then flashed a sweet smile. "And then maybe celebrate with that giant pizza afterwards," she ended with.

Lelouch attempted to reply, only for him to be interrupted by another message on his monitor. One that Milly and Rivalz received as well.

"I suppose that's it for the time being," Lelouch said reluctantly. "Any longer and we risk…"

"We know," Rivalz answered. "It's alright Lelouch. We'll still be here later on."

"As will I Rivalz," Lelouch answered back. "Whether as Zero or as Lelouch, I will be here."

"Same with us Lulu," Milly concurred, a little saddened that their first real conversation in eight years had to end so abruptly, even though she knew there was no choice in the matter. "Until next time."

"Indeed Madam President," Lelouch replied. "Rivalz," he said, earning a nod of acknowledgment from his former cohort's part.

The channel then terminated not long after, leaving both sides to sit back and again remember – if only for the moment – to better days. The days of knightmares throwing giant pizza dough, masked cats running around campus, students dressing in all manner of strange and elaborate costumes and gambling on chess matches with nobility. The days of youth, and the single point of peace for many, including a young prince and princess that were cast aside and left for dead.

Days that were long gone, and yet, among those three and many others, would be forever remembered. And yearned for.

Weisswolf Castle
State of Germany, Eurasian Union
September 14, 2025

Entering in her keycode, Leila watched as the door slid open, allowing her and Geri and Freki into Weisswolf's command and control center. As she had expected, all stations within her were manned and ready, with Klaus being the first to stand and salute her, the rest quickly following. Returning their salutes, Leila made her way to her own station, the two wolves remaining by her sides as she sat and observed her monitor's data. As displayed on a digitized map, a specific aircraft now sat at Ramstein Air Base, awaiting orders for deployment. From there, the operation would be proceed in accordance, with Akito and the others going onto perform their respective roles.

Sighing at that thought, as well as what President Kessler had called upon them to do, Leila nonetheless was resolved to see this through. Whether by Zero's possible capture and/or elimination, or…

"Freies Eurasien," Leila murmured to herself, ensuring that those around her would not hear the Eurasian battle cry – its own contrast to "All Hail Britannia" – and repeat it. Like it or not, it was what it was, and her mission set. Thus upon her eyes drawing upon the main monitor, the young colonel at last gave the awaited command.

"Commence Operation Mitternacht."