"The time to take counsel of your fears is before you make an important battle decision. That's the time to listen to every fear you can imagine! When you have collected all the facts and fears and made your decision, turn off all your fears and go ahead!"
- George S. Patton

Chapter XXXI: More Than Words

Central Hemicycle
Berlin, State of Germany, Eurasian Union
August 28, 2025

Cold silence reigned across the chamber as all eyes remained fixed ahead, toward what could only be the subject of their worst fears. There, at the rear of the assembly, a holographic monitor projected various images of war and carnage for all to see; images depicting certain black knightmares fighting against Britannia's legions of blue, either acting on their own volition or in direct support of Chinese green units. One after another, the black machines seemed all but unstoppable, their orange mono-eyes oft times glaring toward the "camera" before or after ravaging uncountable numbers of Sutherlands and Gloucesters. And that was before one saw what they did to conventional vehicles and infrastructure, which almost always was left in flames upon the black giants passing by, entirely unhindered.

Those images were bad enough, but those that followed especially sent a chill down the gathering's collective spine. The line of red knightmares – and one blue – charging into the fray, firing their claw cannons either in laser-like beams or in rapid fire bursts, sundering all that they touched. Another black knightmare, this one sporting curious red hair-like attachments, charging into the Britannian masses with a large, rocket-propelled sword, cutting down enemy after enemy as it charged on. One more red knightmare – this one blue eyed to the others' orange and retaining a much different right arm claw – also breaking into the enemy formations, the fire espousing from its own claw granting it the draconian visage of its ever renowned pilot. All culminating in the imagery of the black and gold bastard twin of the Lancelot, cape billowing as it too drew into combat, destroying any and all it moved against with its own swords and rifle, right before battling the dark grey frame belonging to the Knight of Two himself. The latter's crimson eyes turning once to the camera, seemingly glaring toward it with ethereal vehemence, just before the screen froze.

"And so Councilors," a man in a grey military uniform – rank insignia and waffenfraube both indicating the wearer as a General of the Eurasian Army – declared to the chamber, his voice carrying the full weight of his authority and charisma. "We behold the black legion in our midst. The very demons that, a mere eight years ago, shook the whole of the Earth to its foundations."

Sitting some meters behind the floor, Kessler almost had to force himself to keep from smirking. He could almost taste the fear that permeated throughout the Eurasian Council as the various councilors came to realize the seriousness of the matter. Such fear was almost palatable to him, as it was a powerful indicator of grave weakness. And where there was weakness, there was always a means of manipulation.

"Though their manpower was initially small, especially during their raids at Pendragon and Pearl Harbor, they retain relative skill and technological advancement, the latter no doubt provided by their Indian allies," General Pierre Anou, commander of the 2nd Panzer Army, continued to project, visibly enjoying the rapt attention he was receiving. "A considerable threat, one that Zero has made quite clear in his previous declaration. To turn a blind eye to him, or his Black Knight vermin, would indeed be folly."

"But General, you just said that they were small in size, and all reports seem to indicate they cannot hold any more than a few thousand in their ranks," one of the councilors spoke up. "Surely such a miniscule force could not hope to overcome our army in battle."

"I did Councilor, but I also said they were initially small," Anou answered, again all too pleased to do so. "Following their reestablishment of the Chinese Federation, the Black Knights have undoubtedly augmented their forces, if you will pardon the expression, with additional numbers. China and India alone could grant them an immeasurable recruitment pool, and though it would take some time to mold such peasantry into proper soldiers, the Black Knights very much hold that capability given the number of surviving veterans from the Black Rebellion in their earlier ranks."

"Do we have an estimate on exactly how much their forces have grown?" another asked.

Anou shook his head in dramatic regretfulness. "I'm afraid the Abwehr is still working on that, but if I were to hazard a guess, their overall manpower is well into the millions now. More than enough to overrun the Middle East should Zero deign it, or…"

Again Kessler forced back a grin as the General verbalized what the Council truly feared. "Launch an incursion into our own Far Eastern states."

Additional murmurings could be heard as Anou elaborated further. "Their stealth technology makes either course even more accomplishable," he stated. "In fact, it has been assessed by both the Abwehr and myself that Zero has already launched an assault into Area 18, only two days ago."

Anou then took on a conspiring gleam. "It was a probing attack that did little beyond strike a few outlying garrisons, but the purpose was obvious. Zero intends to move past China and into the west, ever closer to Britannia. And he intends to liberate any and all 'oppressed' peoples along the way, further augmenting his forces."

That gleam showed even more as he added. "And once more Councilors, Zero has made his views of our republic, and its 'illegitimate' leadership, abundantly clear."

Even further commotion erupted, the anxiety stirring that much more. Kessler naturally took his cue. "This, indeed, is not a matter to be taken lightly," he began. "Though we do not know when and how, it is surely a matter of time before Zero and his followers turn their gaze upon Eurasia, as he had so declared. And when he does, our republic will face its darkest hour since Stalin's legions first marched into Poland."

That last line especially struck. Though it was fast approaching a century since Stalin launched his attempted conquest of the West, the Red Army's march was far from forgotten. In fact, it only reinforced the smothering dread, especially as the audience kept the Black Knights' alliance with the reborn Chinese Federation – itself a communist power, as well as a descendent of Soviet ideology – well in mind. Would Zero bring them into Eurasia alongside his Order?

"We cannot let this stand," Kessler declared, raising his voice for emphasis. "If we are to confront Zero, we must act preemptively, before he can launch his incursion. Neutralize the threat he and his Black Knights pose before they can ever tread upon Eurasian soil!"

Then, ever so dramatically, he raised his hands up. "Therefore, I propose the mobilization of all available military assets," he called out, gaining no small measure of amazement from the Council or barely concealed anxiousness from Anou. "To hunt Zero down and bring him to justice, once and for all!"

"That's quite the proposal, Herr Präsident," a new voice called out from the far end of the chamber, one that easily overrode Kessler's declaration with its deep baritone. "To condemn the man that has brought our real enemies to their knees."

A pair bootfalls were soon heard, even amidst the noticeably louder murmurings, as their wearer entered into the open. "Surely you would not begrudge such a man," the speaker continued as all eyes drew toward his entry. "Especially when he has done far more against the Britannians than Pierre could ever hope to."

Steam practically billowed from Anou's ears as the general glared back, but it was hardly noticed. The entirety of the Council's attention was now directed at the newcomer, who casually strolled onto the Hemicycle floor with an air of unflinching superiority. One that Kessler himself had to keep from glaring down upon, as it would only emphasize it, and the man's accompanying grin, that much more.

With a purpose in his step and a crusade in his eyes, General Joachim Rommel came to a stop at the precise center of the chamber. His greatcoat draped over his shoulders and his trademark sand visor covered cap atop his head, the general looked every bit the stalwart commander that the Eurasian media had portrayed him as. The stalwart commander that had battled, and often bested, the Britannians in North Africa for five years running, as well as one of Eurasia's chief authorities in knightmare warfare and many other fields. The Desert Lion himself.

"General Rommel, I see you have taken the time to join us," Kessler spoke in a measured tone, expertly biting back his ire toward the Lion's sheer arrogance. "Even though you had not been summoned by myself or the Council."

"A mere technicality," Rommel answered back with infuriating casualness. "When I heard that the Council was convening to discuss the Demon King and his recent successes, I could not help but feel the need to give my own perceptions."

He turned to sweep his eyes across the Hemicycle. "I trust this to be acceptable."

A multitude of nodding heads responded as such. As a result, Kessler had no choice but to oblige. "By all means then, grant us your insights."

"Danke," Rommel replied, noting the underlying sardonicism but very much ignoring it, as he faced the council. Already he could tell he had his work cut out for him. Most of the councilors appeared quite white from the previous tirade, and more than a few continued to look upon the still projected image of the Mordred with visible dread. Even so, he had to try.

"I understand your apprehension," he began as levelly as he could. "Zero and the Order of the Black Knights are indeed a force to be reckoned with. In but a few months' time, they not only launched a direct raid into the Imperial capital and toppled the strongest fortress in the Pacific, but they also liberated a third of the world from Britannia's tyranny in one fell swoop. All following upon the objectives set by their initial declaration."

His eyes swept the chamber in the manner of his epithet scanning its present domain. "If Zero has, in fact, set his sights upon Eurasia, he would be a terrible foe to face, especially as we are still fighting the Britannians on all fronts. And if he were to secure Chinese aid to augment his theoretical invasion force, we would be further hard-pressed to defend Eurasia."

"That's why we should take him out here and now!" Anou barked from the side, only to be soundly ignored. Rommel didn't so much as spare him a side glance.

"However Councilors, this does not have to be our only choice to make," the General posited rather conspiringly, causing more than one head to look up. "Though it's highly probable Zero has his plans for our Union, they don't necessarily have to involve hostilities. Not when we share one mutual enemy, even if only for the time being."

"I assume there is a point you are about to make General," Kessler spoke from behind with pointed impatience. He already knew where this was going – much to his indignation – and he had hoped to whatever god was actually out there that no one would have the brains or the balls to suggest it. Unfortunately, the Desert Lion had both, and Kessler silently cursed himself for not anticipating it.

"Yes," Rommel answered back, again keeping his face toward his audience. "I propose to this council that, rather than hunt Zero down, we seek an alliance with him."

"Insanity!" Anou barked, forcing his way back into the limelight. "You would suggest we align with the very scum of the earth and his band of exiles!?"

When Rommel turned to face his fellow general and army commander, it was as though he had only then realized Anou was still there. "The very scum of the earth and band of exiles that just revenged the Black Rebellion upon their former oppressors tenfold? Why yes, that is exactly what I am suggesting," Rommel shrugged indifferently. "After all, the enemy of my enemy…"

"You're insane Rommel!" Anou bellowed now, infuriated at both the mere suggest and the Desert Lion's dismissiveness toward him. "It is the eleventh hour and you would welcome the invaders through our defenses!"

"The invaders, the real invaders, are already marching on our soil Pierre," Rommel exclaimed blandly. "You of all people should know that, considering it was your sorry ass they kicked all over Portugal."

That caused several additional murmurings, as well as Anou looking ready to spontaneously combust. "As opposed to that brat in North Africa that you've been dragging your feet in defeating!?" he spat in derision. "The one that had you cowering in El Alamein mere months ago!?"

This time Rommel appeared affronted, much to the surprise of Anou and several others. "That 'brat' happens to be one of the best our enemy has to offer. One of the greatest adversaries Eurasia has faced since Georgy Zhukov, only one step below the White Prince himself."

The Lion flashed a malicious grin. "Be weary of the day you should face him Pierre, for you will find your trousers even more gebräunt than they were in Lisbon."

"Du Hurensohn!" Anou roared and almost flung himself at Rommel, the latter quite ready to put the cretin in his much deserved place.

"Enough!" Kessler commanded, bringing an immediate stop to the fight in the making, as well as the background mutterings. "There will be no further outburst on the floor!"

That settled, Rommel immediately returned to the matter at hand. "Herr Präsident, my less than esteemed colleague may be the biggest disgrace to the uniform since Varus," Anou sputtered at this, only for Rommel to ignore him yet again. "But he is right about one thing. This is the eleventh hour."

He turned back to the wider audience. "Make no mistake, we are no closer to victory than we were five years ago. In fact, given our losses since, we are even further away. The Britannians have yet to conquer us, but we also have yet to defeat them decisively, and so they remain well upon Eurasia.

"In direct contrast, they have been soundly broken in the east. The bulk of their forces are wiped out there, and what little remains has either fled westward into Area 18 or northward to Marrybell's camp, unlikely to ever set foot in their former territory again. All done in by the greatest offensive action to have ever graced modern war…"

The general allowed a knowing grin to form. "One that even my great-grandfather would have envied."

That caused a quiet stirring amongst the gathered, which Rommel had very much intended. The ancestor in question, Erwin Rommel, had been one of the best – if not the best – military commander Eurasia had ever fielded. Under his direction, the Red Army had been decimated in the Battle of Berlin, allowing for the great counteroffensive that ultimately brought an end to communism – at least until the conclusion of the Chinese Civil War – and expanded Eurasia's reach to the other side of the globe. Obviously his mere mentioning, especially from his descendent, was akin to invoking the name of a most revered saint.

"That same genius, that same brilliance, can be of great aid to us as well," Rommel prodded further. "We need only reach out to Zero and make our offer."

"And why should Zero take such an offer General?" Kessler posited with some measure of curiosity. "He has already made his feelings toward our republic quite known, as well as his desire to see us brought down with the Britannians."

No Herr Präsident, just you and your fellow Nationalist scum, Rommel thought as he readdressed his commander-in-chief. "Zero, as with all great military commanders, is a foremost pragmatist. Though he would turn his armies upon Eurasia if necessary, his primary enemy is Britannia, and so would focus his efforts on defeating them. This alone gives us the same common ground as the CLA, and with such a foundation anything is quite possible."

"Including his stabbing us in the back," Anou snarled again.

"One such possibility, yes," Rommel conceded for once. "However, in light of his greater objectives, I believe he would not pursue such action, at least not before the Geflügelte Schwert flies over Pendragon."

Kessler's eyes narrowed as he noted a key detail. "You appear to have utmost faith in him, Herr General."

Again Rommel shrugged indifferently. "I am appreciative of his gifts, sir," he answered simply. "And how they may serve our republic."

"No doubt," Kessler exclaimed dryly. He didn't believe a word of it – in fact, he dared suspect there was more to the Desert Lion's partiality than simple admiration – but it remained an inconsequential issue at best. Especially with what was about to occur. "If there is nothing further, then the Council will now vote on these proposals."

He looked past Rommel to the various councilors. "Remember, the course of action that is decided may not only affect our nation, but the very direction of history itself."

Allowing a moment for that to sink in, Kessler then finished. "Consider carefully."


Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

It was now two days since the event, two days since whatever had happened had happened. Since that time, things had calmed down considerably, though not enough that the collective guard was lowered. The Black Knights remained on higher alert just in case, with patrols stepped up throughout the islands and personnel on the lookout for any form of suspicious activity. General Ohgi had recalled much of the High Command to brief them on the past forty-eight hours, and obviously to discuss how they could be prevented from repeating. Prime Minister Sumeragi was also holding a meeting with Chairwoman Tianzi in regard to the situation, as well as other happenings that had occurred in China at precisely the same time. All the while they, alongside a full garrison of soldiers, had been placed on guard around Urasoe itself.

None of their number had been briefed on these things, or even what exactly had taken place, yet these were far from their immediate concerns. Some of them had their theories, with quite a few being more abstract than others, but neither these explanations, nor the truth itself, mattered much to them. For the first time in its entire existence, Zero Squadron had been called upon to directly protect their liege. To stand by and watch for any and all who would dare move against Zero himself.

The details on that, Alfred mused from the cockpit of his Guren, were especially vague, though again he and his squadmates had their theories. The general consensus was that some sort of assassination attempt had been made, one that had somehow bypassed all forms of defense, but had missed by nothing short of God's grace. As a result, Zero, who may or may not have been recovering from the attempt, was holed up within the heart of the castle, as far removed from the outside as the Black Knights could make possible.

Their efforts had been quite substantial, to say the least. Just above, Alfred's sensors picked up the IFF signatures of Takas on combat air patrol, ensuring that the surrounding airspace remained clear of all save the ever present storm. Yamakaze gunships also patrolled the outlying areas in spite of said storm, zipping from one part to the other as dragon flies scouring their hunting grounds. Armored troops moved throughout the castle interior and outer grounds on full round the clock patrols of their own, and it was a sure bet that there were Iga present among them. And finally, there were the eleven Gurens that stood around the castle; the primary guard dogs, ready to be let slip at any given moment.

Of course, all of it paled to the final line of defense in Alfred's opinion. One that he, for all of his experience, could not fathom anyone crossing, not even if they were in knightmares of their own. Subsequently the reason why there were only eleven Gurens standing guard instead of twelve.

Technically, Alfred had not seen or heard from the Major for the last forty-eight hours, but he knew exactly where she was now. Directly at Zero's side, wherever he happened to be. There could be no other place, not after whatever had occurred had. Alfred actually pitied any fool who attempted to remove her, much less make another attempt on her charge; even Cornelia would have known better than to dare try, and Gilbert and his father would have heartily concurred. The Red Dragoness was not one to be trifled with at such a time.

That all said however, Alfred remained rather concerned for his superior and friend. Again he hadn't seen her for the past two days – such that their orders had come directly from General Ohgi himself – but it was safe to say that whatever happened had affected her as well, and not simply because she had been present in the occurrence. The Major's feelings for their liege were very much an open secret in Zero Squadron – one that was discreetly acknowledged by all of its members. If he really had been nearly killed, he could only imagine what she was going through, especially when she had already lost so much.

Alfred grimaced at that last thought. They had all lost much over the last few years. He himself still mourned his father and his brothers, as well as innumerable friends and comrades. But it was different with the Major. She had lost her family three times over, from her brother's death in the Insurrection to her mother falling to Refrain and then finally both she and her father perishing in the Devastation. Alfred could only surmise it had been through the dedicated efforts of General Ohgi, Major Cathcart and select others that she had not given up entirely. As well as the one who mattered most to her.

In light of that, Alfred truly did pity any fool who would make a follow up attempt. If hell hath no fury than a woman scorned, then it certainly could not compete with a woman that still had everything to lose. Especially if that "everything" was the man she loved…


Sitting directly across from Lelouch's bed, her exhausted but extremely focused blue eyes not once leaving his sleeping form, Kallen remained at the same post she had made for herself since their return to Okinawa. Outside of showering and changing back into her uniform, as well as the occasional but very short water and bathroom breaks, she had not moved from his side. The side of her commander, her savior. Her prince.

Time had since become incomprehensible to her as a result. Hours or days, Kallen had lost track of the passage from Kamine to the present. No, it had never even registered to her. And even if it had, it wouldn't have taken her away from him, where she should have remained – even against his direct orders – when he had gone off on his "side errand". She would be damned before she made that mistake again. Regardless of anyone's wishes.

There had been some attempts off and on by her comrades and superiors to get her to stand down. Some of them had been gentle suggestions and assuagements, while others had been more forceful. Both Ohgis had given her direct orders to take one of the side rooms and rest, while Tohdoh had offered to personally take the "watch", with or without the Four Holy Swords beside him, if it would help to put her at ease. General Kondo had also tried to convince her, even offering to recall units from China to reinforce Zero Squadron, while Generals Longstreet and Stuart had emphasized their own fealty to the Black Prince – to the point of claiming him the rightful heir to their former nation's throne – in their attempts. Even Tamaki had claimed he could stand guard over his "buddy" as she slept.

One after the other however, the Knight of Zero had refused them all, and not always politely. No matter their ranks and reasons, her duty to her liege was of the highest priority, and not even he, had he actually been conscious, could order her away now. And heaven help anyone, up to and including those troops that sentried the rest of the castle, who tried to physically remove her. Especially as she still retained her weapons and her Geass.

She knew she would pay for all of it later, once everything settled down again, but that was of little consequence to her in the present. No matter how much time had passed since the prior events, the image of Lelouch lying dead and bleeding remained as vivid to her as when her Geass first turned upon it. In fact, it had never left her; she need only close her eyes to see it again and feel the accompanying pain. The sheer agony of having the very last thing that meant – truly meant – everything to her stripped away, never to be reclaimed. Only by twist of fate had that not actually carried through, and Kallen refused to take that chance again. Not when she, and he, were both still alive and breathing. Beyond that, the rest of the world could go to hell, assuming it wasn't already there.

The sound of the door knob turning caused Kallen to look up, Geass alight. Fortunately she retained just enough of her comprehension to tell that it was C.C., who entered in with a tray table that held pizza and beverages. "I thought you would be hungry," the immortal spoke casually as she entered. "The kitchen staff claims you haven't eaten anything since coming here."

"You thought wrong," Kallen growled, Geass deactivating but otherwise not about to drop her guard. Friend and foe no longer mattered to her; anything that crossed that threshold now was a probable threat. The only variable was whether she attacked at point of entry or not.

C.C. easily understood that, and so proceeded with caution, doing nothing that would draw ire. Not that she couldn't handle a sleep deprived Dragoness if it came down to it. "Well then I'm afraid I must insist."

"I said I'm not hungry," Kallen growled again, even as the "witch" brought the tray over, then moved back to get a chair of her own. If anything, the smell of food just made her stomach lurch; it had apparently been that long since her last meal. "Get that away from me C.C. or…"

"Or what? You'll kill me?" C.C. lightly admonished as she returned with her chair. "Better than you have tried, Lady Puff."

Placing the chair down on the opposite side of the tray, C.C. nodded toward the pizza. "In case you didn't know, it's been over forty-eight hours since we got back from Honalee. That's over two days you have gone without food."

She paused to take a slice and a following bite, visibly savoring. "Between that and your sleep deprivation, you would not amount to much against an actual assassin."

"I'll take my chances," Kallen retorted, visibly becoming defensive. She clearly anticipated another attempt at getting her to leave his side in the making.

C.C. shook head at this. "Don't misunderstand Kallen. As much as the others want me to, I'm not here to get you out…"

"Good," Kallen snapped in turn.

"But at the same time you aren't doing him or anyone else favors by starving yourself," the immortal "witch" factually pointed out. "He especially would want you in top form."

Able to do little more than maintain her glare, Kallen, knowing that C.C. was right on all of it, forced herself to pick up a slice. Looking over the pizza for a moment, her blurred eyes and consciousness unable to recognize the exact toppings, she ultimately took a bite and swallowed. It might not have been the most nutritious meal she could have had at that time, but she knew it would help replenish her energy stores, especially with the meat and vegetable assortment C.C. had selected. "Damn you."

Again C.C. looked entirely unbothered. "Once more, better than you have tried," she exclaimed before taking another bite herself. If only her other partner knew just how true that was.

The next several minutes or so were of utmost silence as two women had their meal. For her part, it took more than a bit of effort for Kallen to eat her parts of the pizza; swallowing alone felt as though she were forcing molten lead down her throat. However, she ate it all the same, gaining much needed nutrients into her system, though it would take some time yet before it was all digested and distributed. So long as it kept her awake and alert however, she paid little attention to this.

"So," C.C. suddenly spoke up again after finishing another slice of her own. "Are you going to tell him when he wakes up?"

Swallowing again, this time without any food or drink, Kallen could only steel herself for the inevitable. "Tell him what?"

C.C. let out a drawn sigh. "The one thing in this dark, dismal world that matters most to you," she emphasized somewhat dramatically. "That you love him."

Any other time Kallen would have argued, whether for the sake of professionalism or simply out of characteristic reflex. But not this time. Too much had happened for her to deny her feelings for him to another, especially when that other was C.C.

"I wish it were that simple," the ace sighed, looking back to the still sleeping prince in clear yearning. "Just to tell him straight out…"

C.C. nearly shook her head again. "It is that simple," she spoke with exasperation. "In fact, it has always been that simple. You're just afraid of what his response will be."

"Well yeah," Kallen pointedly retorted, feeling as though her partner in crime had somehow struck a nerve. "Among other things."

This aroused C.C.'s curiosity. "Such as?"

It took another long moment for Kallen to consider. "Too many things for me to list right now," she exclaimed, suddenly feeling the considerable weight of her exhaustion. "Starting with whether or not I do actually feel as I think I do."

C.C. arched an eyebrow. "You think this is Geass' influence at work?" she replied, causing Kallen to look away somewhat. "Well then, let's find out…" she started to reach for her partner's hand.

Reacting before any of them could realize, Kallen snapped her hand away, drawing as far away from the witch's grasp as she could while still sitting. Her eyes projected a naked, terrible fear that C.C. had never, ever seen on her. A fear that, in spite of everything, very much took C.C. by surprise, to the point that she was unable to keep the astonishment off her own face.

Another long silence, this one much colder and perturbing, entered the room. Hanging in the air like a faint smoke before C.C. finally drew her own hand back, astonishment giving way for understanding. "I see."

Her body shaking from the tension, Kallen took several more minutes to calm herself down, just managing to keep the tears at bay. C.C. could only sit by and watch as her partner, on the verge of breaking down similarly to two days ago, forcibly reigned herself in, taking on some measure of composure. The latter wasn't very much, as her voice trembled as she spoke, but the Red Dragoness remained even so.

"I remember it," Kallen murmured in a near whisper. "Eight years ago at Yokosuka, through everything I have seen and experienced, I remember it the most."

She almost bit her lip as she finished. "The exact moment I fell for him."

Remaining silent, C.C. simply sat by and listened. Kallen continued. "It was right before the battle, and the JLF's destruction," she said, forcing down some of her trembling. "Somehow, I ended up wandering into one of the warehouses and found him. Alone and out of uniform; he didn't even have his mask, though I couldn't see his face in the darkness."

The ace closed her eyes, as though replaying the memory. "Narita had just happened, and many of us were feeling remorse over the mudslides. Me especially, as I had just attended the funeral for Shirley's father," she took a breath on that. "In that moment of uncertainty, I demanded to know if any of it was real. If what we were fighting for really was going to change the world for the better."

It was then that C.C. saw a semblance of light begin to emerge from Kallen's eyes. "He answered me, and his answer reaffirmed my will to fight," she explained. "But…but it also did something else."

Knowing that her audience was listening with utmost intention, Kallen went on. "Though he tried to hide it, like he always did, I still heard it. The same pain and remorse we all felt coming from Zero himself, only ten times greater."

Hesitantly, Kallen looked back toward Lelouch. "Before that point, I thought like everyone else did. That Zero was beyond human," she exclaimed. "Messiah or demon, I believed he could not be held down by such things as guilt and regret. Those were for the rest of us to feel, because we were but mortals compared to him, the one who would bring justice unto this sick, twisted world."

She shook her head at the idea. "And yet there he was, retreated to the shadows and consumed by anguish, weighted down far more by the consequences of his actions than any of us could appreciate," she sniffed. "Nothing like the Demon King we and the rest of the world saw him as."

C.C. was tempted to make a quip at Tamaki's expense, but she wisely chose to forgo it. Thereby allowing Kallen to continue once more.

"He's no messiah, yet he's no demon either," Kallen declared. "Underneath that mask is a human being. A boy that suffered the worst humanity had to offer, and so chose to stand up and fight for something better. Something none of us would have dreamed of, much less thought possible," she began trembling again as she added. "Even to the point of sacrificing himself, and what happiness he had left."

At that, Kallen grasped her sides, her trembling intensifying. This time she had difficulty calming herself. "I love him for all of it, and more C.C.," she murmured as tears started to fall, her right hand slipping over her heart. "I love him so much it hurts."

C.C. reached out again, this time to grasp Kallen's shoulder in a reaffirming gesture. That seemed to be enough for Kallen, who managed to calm down a little bit more. "And yet," she stifled, naked fear now entering in. "And yet it could all still be a lie."

Through her tears, she gazed back to Lelouch. "It would just be like him to use his Geass that way," she spoke with an ever wavering voice, deathly afraid that what she said next would be the truth. "Implanting false memories and emotions so that I would serve as his most loyal minion, his perfect slave."

"Kallen…" C.C. began to say, only to be stopped.

"But even so, what I feel now is all I have left," Kallen finally willed herself and sat back upright. "He's all I have left."

When she again looked at Lelouch, it was of the utmost resolve. "I swore that I would follow him to the end, and I meant every word of it," she declared. "Until death do us part."

C.C. pursed her lips at that final statement, knowing Kallen had purposely invoked its full meaning. Indeed she could see it coming from all over, from the tone of her voice to the poise of her body to the sheen in her eyes. Love in its purest, most absolute form, coupled with fear and uncertainty. That the one driving force which remained to Kallen Kouzuki – the one thing that remained to her after all she had lost – could very well be an illusion. A means of enslavement, brought on by the most masterful of manipulators.

The "witch" inwardly sighed in response. Unlike Kallen, she knew the truth of this particular matter. And even if she didn't, she could easily tell the feelings her second partner had toward her first partner were the real thing. That no Geass, no matter what particular brand of "absolute" power it may have held, could hope to instill such passion, such intensity of emotion toward another. C.C., of all people, knew that from experience after all…

Even so, the "witch" knew better than to say anything about that truth. Not only would Kallen not believe her, especially as she was now, but it simply was not something that could be answered by mere words. Like it or not, Kallen, and Lelouch, would have to make this journey themselves.

"I will say this much for our sweet prince over there," was her only response as she took another slice. "He's damned lucky to have someone like you in his life."

After taking a bite, she then added. "Even though I doubt he'll ever realize it."

"I'm perfectly fine with that," Kallen answered, her eyes remaining on her liege for just a little longer.


Rommel Residence
Berlin, State of Germany, Eurasian Union

"Those idiots!" Rommel snarled, nearly planting his fist through the dining room table in his frustration. Fortunately, as he was well aware that his sons, Manfred and Lothar, were in the backyard playing with their white shepherd Hilda, he managed to refrain from the action as well as keep his voice down. Despite the fact he wanted to tear the universe itself apart. "After all I said, after all that's been happening, they still chose this insane course of action!?"

"What did you expect Joachim?" Gabriela Rommel, or "Gabby" to those closest to her, casually replied to her husband before taking a drink from her bierkrug. She was used to her husband's tantrums whenever they came along, and for once she couldn't blame him in the slightest. Even from her civilian standpoint, the Council had acted in the worst manner possible. "Even if you had actually swayed them, we both know Kessler and his minions had long seen to it that the Council voted as intended. The decision to go after Zero was made long before the Council ever set foot into that chamber."

"I know Gabby, I know," Rommel sighed as he himself took a drink, a noticeably larger one than his wife had, to calm down a little. "You're right, I knew this was going to happen. But damn me, I hoped, really hoped, that the Council would see reason for once."

"Hah! The Council hasn't seen reason since Bismarck's time in office," Gabby shot back. "Oh sure, there are some that don't have their heads up their esels, but when it comes down to it, the whole of Parliament is little more than a geriatric club whose members are more interested in their pensions than the preservation of our republic. And that's before one brings up the Nationalists and their sycophants."

She shook her head. "Face it my love, this is one battle you were destined to lose."

"So I've learned," Rommel sneered, almost wishing he were back in Africa. Compared to those miscreants in the Hemicycle, the Britannians were a much simpler foe to fight. "Still, this doesn't do Eurasia any good Gabby. Not only have we just declared war on a new adversary when we have yet to defeat the first, but this new foe will be nothing like what we have faced before."

"Oh? Do my ears deceive me?" Gabby inquired bemusedly. "Is the Desert Lion hesitating in the face of the enemy?"

This time it was Rommel's turn to laugh. "The Desert Lion never hesitates against his enemies," he retorted with a grin, right before adopt a frown. "For once however, I would very much rather these be our allies."

He elaborated further. "Even without Zero in the equation, the Black Knights are formidable, too formidable for my liking," his frown deepened as he recalled the black knightmares in action. "Their baseline troops possess great individual skill, and their officers have repeatedly displayed initiative. Their technological base is likely more advanced than the Britannians', or our own. And though they initially lacked in the way of numbers, the Red Rebellion's success has obviously given them a much needed recruitment boost."

The Lion actually growled at the notion. "In other words, they are a quality force that has since gained a large measure of quantity as well, while we and Emperor Charles' tea drinkers have been suffering in both," he again glowered in his memory of the Council's vote. "Had we allied, we could have easily beaten the Britannians back to their precious Homeland. But no, we're going to piss all that away because the powers that be are afraid Zero would turn on them…"

"Wouldn't he?" Gabby smoothly chided as she took another drink.

Rommel laughed. "I said afraid, Gabby, not paranoid," he wistfully sighed. "Which would have done much for Eurasia's favor in itself…"

"Careful darling," Gabby warned, and not entirely in jest. "To paraphrase a certain Britannian, 'Big Brother can always be watching.'"

"Please," Rommel waved her off. "Großer Bruder can watch all he wants. Unless he wants to remove Eurasia's best commander as well as cause even more public discord, then that's all he can do, watch and listen."

He then smiled conspiringly. "Besides, I've already cleared the house. Again."

That earned an approving and quite amused nod from his wife. Locating and disposing of surveillance equipment, and oft times the listeners themselves, was becoming something of a hobby for her husband. Of course, it helped that it wasn't the Abwehr that was so obsessed with keeping tabs on him – at least not to a noticeable extent – but a certain band of Nationalist affiliated thugs, who fancied themselves as elite troops and, in cases such as this one, spies. Compared to the former organization, the latter was grossly out of its league.

Rommel continued. "The worst part, however, is also the most obvious. We will be going up against the Demon King himself."

The General actually grimaced. "Any other time it would have been a worthy challenge, but not now. Not when we still have Bloody Marry to the east, Hannes to the west and Raymond in Africa…"

"Yes, it does add up rather quickly," Gabby observed. "Even if we had Zero on our side, we would still have our work cut out for us."

"Not as much as you would think," Rommel responded, taking another casual sip.

Though it was very slight, such that any other would have missed it, Gabby easily picked on the conspiring gleam in her husband's eyes. Inwardly sighing, she could not help but ask.

"Alright Joachim, I'll bite," she spoke in a near admonishing tone. "What are you onto?"

"Just the answer to a certain question," Rommel answered teasingly. "One that has been haunting our enemies and ourselves for eight years running," his eyes narrowed and his smirk deepened. "Who is Zero?"

Now Gabby was visibly intrigued. "Ja?"

Rommel smirk became a full grin as he said it. "What would you say if the Demon King turned out to be one we are all very well aware of?" he posited, once again with utmost conspiracy. "Specifically a certain Schwarze Prinz?"

Gabby almost did a double take over that. "I would say you have officially gone off the deepest end Joachim. There's no way Prince Lelouch, of all people, could be Zero."

"Why not?" Rommel challenged, entirely undeterred. "All the signs seem to point at it, up to and including his unique brand of tactics and deception."

Taking another drink, Gabby nodded for him to continue. "Go on."

Rommel took a breath before he went on. "I know what the official story claims, Gabby. Upon Empress Marianne's assassination, Lelouch was spirited away to Sunderland, only to reemerge in the public light upon coming of age. Namely when he attended West Point, and thereafter when he assumed command of the North African front."

The General grinned again upon seeing his wife take note. "You see it as well, ja? The blank space in the story; for an eight year span, no one on Gottes grüne Erde can officially ascertain Lelouch's whereabouts or activities therein. There's only what the Britannians have stated for the record."

The grin again enlarged somewhat. "At the same time however, there is also a long forgotten report from the Abwehr that just may allude to Lelouch ending up in an altogether different part of the world."

"Japan," Gabby concluded, putting together the dates in her own head. "Before the Incident."

"And the War," Rommel added.

Suddenly it was starting to make sense to Gabby. "And during or after said war and Kururugi's assassination, Lelouch would have disappeared in the chaos. Assumed for dead, thereafter remaining in hiding for the next seven years…"

"Until emerging as Zero to lead the good fight," Rommel finished, gleaming with approval.

Gabby smirked knowingly in return. "I take it this report was never verified," she challenged once more.

"Unfortunately not," Rommel shook his head. "Lelouch was eleventh in line to the throne, and so the Abwehr didn't consider him a person of substantial interest. In fact, the report in question makes no allusions toward him or his future whereabouts at all."

Gabby attempted to question this, but Rommel beat her to the draw. "Rather, it specifies an unscheduled gathering of imperials, just around the same date our Schwarze Prinz officially disappeared from the limelight; princes and princesses who were very close to the late Empress Marianne's children, such as Schneizel, Cornelia, Euphemia, Clovis and Marrybell."

Gabby mused over this. "It could have been for a private memorial. Empress Marianne was quite popular among the younger princes and princesses."

"A possibility, but unlikely," Rommel smoothly replied. "It was claimed that the siblings were gathered to see one of their own off, as the prince or princess in question had just been exiled by the Emperor himself, for whatever reason."

The General leaned forward as he thought more on it. "If Lelouch was in fact the one sent out, he would have gone as far from his father's sight as possible without being put in direct harm's way, which means he would have been well outside Britannia proper but nowhere near Eurasia or China. This leaves Japan, the de jure neutral party of the day, at least before Kururugi and his cronies stuck their sakuradite bloated noses into Indochina."

Rommel grimaced, momentarily recalling the turmoil of those days. "Add on fact the Ashford family also ended up in Japan after the dust settled, and you could account for much of that blank period."

"Indeed," Gabby again concurred, seeing it herself. If Lelouch really had ended up in Japan, then the Ashfords, being his late mother's most direct affiliates, would have obviously provided him safe haven from Britannia at large. As her husband said, it did actually explain much of the Black Prince's whereabouts during that timeframe, as well as how he was able to gather the followers and resources for his rebellion.

However, it still failed to answer every question. "Assuming that is all true Joachim, along with Lelouch reemerging Zero thereafter, then how did he wind up under Britannia's banner after the Devastation?"

This time the general shook his head. "That I don't know, though I suspect it wasn't by his will," he answered, another frown crossing his features. "Otherwise the Black Knights would not have brought him back into the fold, much less assaulted Pendragon to do so."

Rommel then spoke much more solemnly. "Regardless of all that Gabby, I am firmly convinced that he is in fact the Demon King, as well as the one man in this world that can not merely defeat, but destroy Britannia at this point," he said, taking a moment to finish his beer. "And we are about to launch a new front against him."


Imperial Army Headquarters Krasnoyarsk
Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, Britannian Empire

The sun was setting to the west, where Britannia laid beyond. It would be cold that night, and she could already feel it. Though it was still technically summer, the cold seemed to have reached that part of the world early that year, enough that she had been forced to take some precaution against it. Not too much of course – she was a strong enough girl, to say the least – but enough for her to tell that the days were growing shorter and the nights darker. Very much removed from the Homeland, which, after five years of constant fighting and westward advancement, seemed more and more distant. Too distant.

Even so, it was what it was. The darkness would be of little hindrance to her, and the cold would not even give her pause. She had long adjusted to either, and so had those who had followed her to this place. And so their march would continue, challenged only by the determined but weakening human defenders of this land; the one element that kept her legion at bay, and herself from her prize. The castle in which she would plant her flag and establish her dominion, from which all else would follow.

Unfortunately, that objective also seemed quite distant, perhaps even more than it had months ago. She frowned as she contemplated why that was. The most obvious factor was, of course, the Demon King's reemergence and successes as of late. Not only did it provide her westward opposition a much needed boost in morale, but it also eliminated all logistical support and freedom of movement to the south. Not her forces ever really needed to move through Area 20 or Area 22, of course, but at the same time she did not appreciate being so firmly confined to the north, so constrained in her mobility. And that was before one brought up the possibility – no likelihood – that Zero would move against her soon enough.

And, of course, there were the Eurasians themselves. She had been fighting them for quite some time; in fact, it was the landings in Kamchatka and Chukotka that officially signaled the Great World War's beginning. Even in those frozen wastelands, her enemies had resisted her, and they continued to do so even now. She had gained ground, yes, but at staggering cost, and there were more than a few times in which she had been forced to withdraw – temporarily of course – and give ground in return lest she lose too much keeping it. And though she had inflicted just as much – perhaps even more – harm on such opposition, they were no closer to surrender and capitulation than she was.

Which brought to mind one particular thorn in her side. The Bear of the Far East. The grandson of Stalin's prized marshal turned defender of the "freedom" and "liberty" of this forsaken land. An admittedly worthy opponent to her, not unlike how her brother saw the Desert Lion in North Africa. He, more than all others, had stood against and hindered her march west every step of the way; if not for him, she likely would have met all of her objectives by now. An infuriating notion, yet simultaneously exhilarating; she, for the life of her, had not expected to face such a skilled adversary. One that, if she truly wished to conquer this land in its entirety, she would have to entirely destroy in the end.

In the end… she mused as the sun dipped ever further beyond. Once more, it seemed all too distant. In spite of all the gains that had been made, all that she had conquered and subjugated in Britannia's name, it still remained too distant. Too damned distant.

Not that she was completely disinclined by this. After all, it had taken years to reach this far, for her to stand there, within the very heart of Siberia. Just as it would likely take additional time to reach the Urals, the stonewall that separated her from what she sought, and move beyond. All the while the Eurasians, with their papa bear at the forefront, would do everything in their power to vanquish her. To ensure that she would suffer the same fate as those forces to the south, if not destroy her entirely.

Let them try, she resolved. None of it, not even Zero, should he indeed choose to move against her instead of Cesare, would change the outcome. No matter how many more days she would spend fighting, no matter how much more blood she would sacrifice, she would gain what she sought. Through the death and ruin, through the piled corpses and feasting ravens, it would all be hers. Euro Britannia would be hers.

And thereafter…

She came to an abrupt halt as her ears picked up the door opening from behind her, followed by a pair of bootfalls stepping onto the floor. "I asked not to be disturbed."

"Forgive me Your Highness," Major General Sir John Blackman answered dutifully to his liege, doing well to mask any hesitance as he reported. "But you wanted to be notified on the operation's conclusion."

Hearing that, Princess Marrybell mel Britannia, commander of the Eastern Front, turned to face her chief of staff. If she held any emotion toward Blackman's notification, she did well to keep it behind her neutral expression. "And?"

Resisting the urge to purse his lips in response, Blackman only said. "Both objectives were met, Your Highness."

Marrybell's expression remained neutral. "Casualties?"

"None," Blackman answered. Not on our side anyway, he thought but did not dare say aloud.

The princess nodded over this. "To be expected," she exclaimed with some measure of solemnity. "Given that the would-be defenders are far west of us."

"Indeed Your Highness," Blackman answered, dutiful as ever in spite of the subject matter.

It was only then that Marrybell smiled, this time with some knowledge. "It's ultimately for the best John," she spoke to her subordinate with reassurance. "We cannot risk any further 'accidents' behind our lines, especially in the coming months."

"As you say ma'am," the General replied.

Marrybell resisted the urge to chuckle. She knew when her chief of staff was intentionally biting his tongue to the point of blood. "I admit I wish there were a better, if not more efficient, way of ensuring our supremacy in this land, but unfortunately there isn't," she spoke with solemnity once more. "And I fear it will be done that much more as we draw closer to Moscow."

She then turned to face her prized general. "But until then, we still have a war to fight," she stated almost commandingly. "Does that not remain so John?"

"It is once more as you say," Blackman answered.

"Good," Marrybell nodded in approval, her characteristic warm smile reappearing. "Summon my commanders General. It is time we move onto the next stage of conquest."

"Yes, Your Highness," Blackman replied, altogether relieved to be returning to the actual fighting. "Shall I have Dame Oldrin be present as well?"

"But of course. She is my knight after all," Marrybell spoke as if it were obvious. "In fact, I intend her and the Ceridwren Knights to spearhead the next assault."

"Very good ma'am," Blackman saluted at last. "I will see to it at once."

With that, the General turned and made his way out. His orders would be carried out within the hour, allowing Marrybell some more time to watch the sun's western descent. And from there, the encroaching darkness.


Peace Mark Charlemagne-class land battleship Euliya
Amur, Britannian Empire

Trudging along on its rows of caterpillar treads, the mighty land battleship Euliya – originally the Jourdan – continued her trek through the vast wilderness, seemingly toward parts unknown. It would have been a curious sight to say the least; a functioning Eurasian landship moving along behind enemy lines, well after Bloody Marry had subjugated the region. Even more curious however, was the fact that the battleship did not fly the Thirteen Stars, nor was it engraved with any notary from the Eurasian Army. Rather, it bore but one particular emblem upon its weathered grey hull: that of a red harp, or lyre, fitted with a wolf's head on its left side. The emblem – no, the mark – of a now defunct organization, which had fought for true peace, only to be utterly destroyed and forgotten. Or so the rest of the world chose to believe.

Surveying the enlarged digital map of Far Eastern Eurasia with her usual keen eye, the woman known only as Miss X frowned over her findings. As much as she appreciated all too recent events further south, the fact remained that their immediate enemies maintained the initiative. Not that that surprised her in the least. The Britannians had always been too numerous as well as too well organized under Marrybell's direction, and though the Eurasians had been doing a fine job in hurting them at every turn, even they could only do so much on the defense. All the while her own force remained far too small to strike more than a few select targets at a time, even if they were operating unseen behind the lines. If only they had the resources they once held…

"Doesn't look very good, does it?" a new voice spoke as its holder entered into the room, coming to stand next to Miss X. A young Chinese man that was relatively handsome, though his only noteworthy trait were the small set of triangular glasses he always seemed to wear. "Not that it ever has."

Miss X's frown deepened somewhat. "Shouldn't you be sacked out Zi?" she inquired rather pointedly, out of concern for her comrade as well as for her immediate domain being intruded upon. "It's only been an hour since you returned."

Zi Dien shrugged. "What can I say? It takes me a while to get settled in," he answered back. "Besides, it was a simple reconnaissance run, and for once not a very eventful one."

"Fair enough," Miss X replied, deciding not to press the issue. She turned back to the map. "And no, it doesn't look very good as you said. Marrybell's gearing up for a dual incursion into north Ural."

She sighed. "The Eurasians will put up a good fight, but eventually she'll take the sector, and from there gain a launching pad toward the immediate south."

"Great," Zi answered sardonically, feeling even more exhausted. "And I take it we can't do anything to stop her?"

"Thus my present frustration," Miss X retorted. "There are just too many points for us to hit, and at best we would only be able to slow her down, not stop her entirely."

"While the Eurasians don't hold the range, much less the accessibility," Zi noted as he looked over toward the defenders' formation. "Tell me Miss X, why are we doing all this again?"

"Simple, we want to bring actual, lasting peace to the world," she exclaimed dryly. "Though nowadays it's more that we just don't want the Britannians to win," she fixed a disdainful glare toward the icon of Krasnoyarsk. "Especially under Bloody Marry's tenure."

Zi immediately caught the underlying meaning. "Another one?"

"Two," Miss X sighed didn't bother hiding her sneer. "Kansk and Nazarovo were both razed just over an hour ago."

"He chu sheng za jiao de zang huo," Zi gaped as he looked over the icons of either settlement. Though purges were not that out of the ordinary for Britannians, not many – short of whoever had ordered the Devastation – would go as far as to wipe out whole populaces. It helped even less that tens of thousands had lived in either town. "Were there even resistance forces in either?"

"Nothing beyond the usual idiot with a handgun, if that," Miss X exclaimed. "Not that the Britannians gave a damn."

Zi shared her sneer. Far Eastern Eurasia had been a hotspot for terrorism as far back as Imperial Russia, and had remained so into the present. Restorationists, Neo Bolsheviks, assorted nationalists, anarchists, self-proclaimed Tsars, would be revolutionaries and other such ne'er do wells with bullets and explosives. They all came in different shapes and sizes, and they all spent their time largely killing each other and the local non-combatants in Eurasia's least populated sector. The EU had hunted them down as much as they could, but Marrybell had a different approach.

Rather than actually seek out the individual cells, she turned her forces on any local population center and burned it, and said population in its entirety, to the ground. Entire towns and cities had disappeared virtually overnight as a result, as did certain terrorist groups; after all, the needle seldom survived the burning haystack. And for those towns and cities that did not hold any such offenders, then it was but another object lesson on who was now in charge. That absolute obedience was the rule of the day and that any form of discord would result in further destruction. Thus the reason for the princess' epithet, and accompanying infamy.

"How did Oz take it?" Zi inquired.

Miss X's expression softened somewhat, retracting to a basic frown. "About as well as can be," she replied. "Not that there's anything he, or any of us, can do about it."

"Yeah," Zi acknowledged with a sigh. He would have given anything for an opening run into Krasnoyarsk at that point. But it was what it was. "Well, at least we can still hurt the bastards in their name."

"Agreed," Miss X answered as she looked back over the map, doing well not to sigh. That seemed to be all they could ever do against their enemy, hurt them. As opposed to destroy.

Again the white haired woman wished Peace Mark was still a functioning organization; that there were more cells out there. Unfortunately, it was not so; for all intents and purposes, the Euliya and her crew were all that were left. A fact that was not missed on any of them, especially their leader.

Even so, Miss X also knew it wasn't over yet, and that things may, just may change in the future. Only an idiot would believe Zero was not planning to strike against Bloody Marry. And though the Black Knights performed a great show with their raid into Area 18, it had not fooled her or their leader the least bit. The Demon King had indeed turned his dark gaze toward the Far East; it was just a question of when exactly. As well as what he would do there and who he would reach out to, if at all.

For now however, she, and the rest of Peace Mark, would continue to hurt. And to bleed…


Doing well to keep his ire firmly in check, V.V. surveyed over the scene of the massacre. It was much cleaner now, to say the least; the bodies had since been cleared and the abundance of blood removed. For these reasons, it seemed a lot more open now than it did when C.C. and Major Kouzuki had both entered it, though to V.V. that made little difference. His memory of the slaughter – including the pain that had been wrought upon him – remained as clear as day.

In hindsight, he supposed he should have known better. At the very least he should have known C.C. would not take kindly to her latest contractor being killed, while the other one was rendered unto despair. As aloof as she was, the immortal woman had already displayed signs that she was closer to those two than she had been with most of her partners and such affiliates. It was uncharacteristic – as uncharacteristic as it would have been with Charles, at least beyond that singular mistake – but it was quite possible. After all, V.V. had witnessed too much throughout his considerable existence to believe that anything was truly impossible.

He felt himself glower at the thought, but once more managed to stifle it. It had all been a monumental failure, again to say the least. Lelouch was still very much alive and C.C. was still very much free and retaining of her Code. Even so, it was what it was, and V.V. knew that to dwell on it, and his aforementioned ire, was to invite more failure. Instead, he would take care to meet both objectives in the future – somehow and some way outside of Charles' stubborn interference of course – and he would do so with the lessons he had learned from this. Specifically not to underestimate Lelouch or C.C., or the Dragoness for that matter, again.

"It wasn't a total loss," a familiar voice intruded, the monolith marked by 'II' appearing just beside him. "Both Rolo and Gottwald performed quite spectacularly, and we also gained some much needed data on the Dragoness' Power of Absolute Awareness."

V.V. took some visible solace in that. "I suppose so," he nodded in acknowledgement. "It will be different next time. You can count on that."

He then moved onto business at hand. "Who was it?"

"Unknown," the Second Master answered. "Though he or she obviously held a command type Geass."

V.V. exhaled at this. Marianne's intrusion was bad enough, but whoever it was who coerced the soldiers to take Lelouch's corpse and place it in a resuscitator truly bothered him. Clearly Marianne hadn't acted alone, and much more Charles had another agent at his disposal. Yet he could not recall any of them having Geass, let alone that type.

Charles… V.V. thought with no small amount of distaste. His apprentice had always been rebellious – at least after a certain event had taken place – but now he had especially become unruly. And though the Grandmaster had more than a few contingencies in place to reign him in as necessary, he would rather not use them. As opposed to retaining his apprentice's full cooperation anyway. "What is Rolo doing now?"

"He's back in Britannia, performing his original mission," the Second Master once more explained. "In fact, he's due to return to the warfront in a few weeks' time."

"Ah yes," V.V. exclaimed, just now remembering Charles' little world war. "To face the Lion in Africa again?"

"More likely to aid Hannes' forces in Western Eurasia, though I am unsure as to where exactly," the Second Master replied.

"That's all fine. It will give him something to do in the meantime," V.V. answered with a wave of his hand. "Besides, we still have two more Code Bearers to track, and with luck he may find one of them there."

"Yes," the Second Master concurred. I.I. had since been hunted down and acquired in the last few months, which now left E.E. and F.F. to isolate. There was still C.C. as well of course, but they very well knew where she was.

An instant later, V.V.'s throne transported directly into the center of the chamber, to which the Grandmaster took his seat. As with the rest, it too had been repaired and cleaned from C.C.'s vicious assault, though he ultimately paid it no mind.

"As you said, it wasn't a complete loss," the immortal continued. "Ragnarok remains in place and progress continuing, while our enemies are as occupied as the rest of the world."

"There's still the matter of what Lelouch found in the database," the Second Master pointed out. "Which he obviously sent back to Ryukyu."

V.V. actually smiled at this. "Actually, that too works toward our intentions," he answered back. "For while the first move is his to make there, we are more than prepared to meet him."

The Second Master easily caught on. "Gottwald again?"

"But of course. I did not select that man simply because of his military background," V.V. answered with visible anticipation. "He is Lelouch's chosen executioner, and will see his duty fulfilled no matter the hindrance."

The Grandmaster actually gleamed at this. "Rest well Lelouch, for the game, our game, is far from over."


Urasoe Castle
Urasoe, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic

She was fast approaching her limit, Kallen knew all too well. Much as she struggled, much as she forced herself to remain, she knew it was all ultimately futile. She had been active for far too long, helped even less by the sheer amount of energy she had expired. One way or another, she too was going to slip into dormancy, and there was nothing that she could do about it. No matter how much she tried to stay awake and focused.

She wanted to be angry with herself – to condemn herself for faltering in her duty – but Kallen saw that was also pointless. Beside the fact it wouldn't change anything about her present condition, she could no more blame herself for exhaustion and fatigue than she could for the storm outside, which had started to rain and thunder again. For all of her phenomenal skills in fighting and piloting, she was still human, and humans were susceptible to such conditions after prolonged activity. It helped even less that her comrades had been correct throughout; she should have retired the moment she had returned from Kamine. And she would have had it been anything else aside from the man sleeping right before her.

Her wavering eyes again drifted over his impassive face, as though looking for any signs of discomfort. This was the second time she had watched him sleep – the first being following his liberation in Pendragon – and once more she found herself strangely captivated. Much like it had been at Yokosuka, as she had explained to C.C. before, this was the actual man behind the mask. Not some would-be demon or altruistic savior, but simply a man; a man that seeks to remake the world into a better place, for not to do so would lead to the continued suffering of others around him. Such that he had originally sacrificed his comfortable life as a high school student, as well as placed himself repeatedly in harm's way, even before he gained much needed survival skills. The man that, against all that she was and should have been, she had come to love.

Once more Kallen felt her hand reach over her strained heart, struggling against her fatigue to do so. She had not exaggerated to C.C. before – she loved so much it was painful to her. Painful because, in spite of her being his Queen and knight, he still felt so distant from her. She could not describe it beyond that – God only knew how much she wished she could, even if she wasn't so tired – but it was precisely that. No matter how much she fought for him, no matter how much she yearned for him, he remained as far away from her as he had the rest of the Black Knights. As though he had definitively closed off that part of himself from all others.

"Damned fool," she hissed as she continued to gaze upon him. Had she the energy, she would have berated herself for loving such a man, regardless of whether it was instilled by Geass or not. That she ultimately should have known better, despite the fact that said love was literally the only thing keeping her tied to this world. This sick, twisted world that she had hated for so long, that repeatedly took away those that mattered to her and caused her agony. Indeed her love for him was all she had left, as spoken before, to keep her alive and fighting, far more than his promises of utopia could ever do.

All in spite of the fact that - once more Geass aside - he showed no inclination of acknowledging that love, much less returning it. "Damned fool," she hissed again as she struggled to keep herself upright.

She was fading faster now, Kallen could tell. Whether she wanted to or not, she would not be awake in the next five minutes. Both her mind and body desperately needed rest, and they were going to get it, no matter how much she resisted. The time was nigh.

Even so, Kallen was not about to move to another room, was not about to leave him. Thus, at certain risk, she ultimately decided where she would rest her head.

Forcing herself to stand and reverently laying her tanto across her former seat, she proceeded to remove her uniform. Her belt and sidearm came off first, followed by her tunic, then her boots, socks and trousers. Unlike the tanto and her gun, she didn't care where they ended up so long as they were off of her, as fast as she was physically able to strip them. All the while Lelouch remained perfectly unaware just a few meters away, or she assumed.

After a few minutes, she came down to her bra and panties. She considered those for a moment; would that be enough? And then she decided that, after all that had been, she no longer cared.

To hell with it, she just managed to think as she removed both garments as well, as uncaring toward the removal as she had been with her uniform proper.

Thus she stood naked and entirely alone in the room with her charge. The door to said room remained locked – no one had dared try to open it beyond C.C. – and the castle garrison was very much aware that Zero was being guarded by her and her alone, so she wasn't worried about any further intrusion. So, to borrow one of his favorite phrases, all tasks at hand were clear. She need only execute.

Without feeling any hesitance whatsoever, she came over to the bed and climbed in. Her arms automatically extended over him, drawing herself to his side; only for a brief second was she afraid that he would awaken from the contact, but ultimately that did not occur. It was them, and only them, now.

So warm… Kallen thought as she felt his body – stripped down to only a pair of boxer shorts – against her own, her glistening sapphire eyes once more drawing to his face. Had anyone else been there to witness it, they would have watched in awe as, for the first time in two days, Kallen Kouzuki relaxed and became totally at ease. No longer tensed up and on continuous guard, the stress, loss and sorrow falling away as she rested her head against his shoulder. A small, but quite prominent, smile having crossed her lips as she closed her eyes, wholly content.

She remained awake for but a few moments longer, her thoughts centered squarely on him. Not Lelouch the righteous crusader, who sought to bring justice upon this sick, twisted world, nor even Lelouch her leader, who she had long sworn to follow through the gates of Hell and beyond. Only Lelouch the man, who, by one means or another, had her undying love.

The war, the world, the very universe itself could all wait another day. For in that moment, as Kallen's mind and body at last gave way, it was only she and him.


Berlin Palace
Berlin, State of Germany, Eurasian Union

"I trust you can accomplish this," Kessler stated to the one standing in front of his desk, who was presently viewing the datapad he had handed over.

"This will be no easy task, Herr Präsident," the officer replied, eyes still scanning the datapad's contents. "Zero was a difficult opponent even before the Black Rebellion, and I imagine that, after the Red, he will be that much more difficult."

"That is not the answer I am looking for Colonel," Kessler answered with a small tone of impatience. "Can you and your wolves accomplish this mission, or can't you?"

Doing well not to exhale in exasperation, the officer could only give the desired answer. "Yes, Herr Präsident, this mission will be accomplished."

At last taking her blue eyes off of the pad, Colonel Leila Malkal faced her superior with utmost resolve. "By your will and the Council's, the Demon King shall be brought unto justice," she declared, then saluting. "Freies Eurasien!"