"And he asked him, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many."
- Mark 5:9
Chapter XLV: The Soulless Horde
Yekaterinburg, State of Ural, Eurasian Union
November 3, 2025
"Was…was zur Hölle ist das?" Ryo let out as all hell appeared to break loose before him and his comrades. It was all he could utter as he continued to fight, firing his assault rifle into the mass at full bore, striking down enemy knightmare after enemy knightmare. Yet, no matter how many he and the other wolves struck down – and there were indeed many, for the Britannians were not even dodging at this point – the enemy continued to charge on as one, ignoring their fallen and seemingly their own collective mortality as they focused on overwhelming and overcoming the Eurasian forces. All as their mantra continued to ring over the open airspace as one.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…" came the unending chant of each and every Britannian voice on the field, well over the broadband so that even the Eurasians could pick it up. To say it was unnerved all who heard it would have been a grand understatement, but the fact that it continued unbroken as the Britannian knightmares and support craft all charged headlong into the fray, completely disregarding the Eurasian counterattacks, made it outright haunting. Unbroken and in complete sync, even as many of its originators were struck down, their newfound silence in no way affecting the others or causing them to pause or hesitate.
Even in the middle of the fighting as he was, taking down no less than three Sutherlands with a machine gun sweep with still many, many more behind them, Ryo could not completely drown out the chanting. He maneuvered his Wolfen with the rest of his comrades, sweeping their respective assault rifles and bazookas through the mass of Sutherlands and Gloucesters as they moved, the latter again seemingly disinclined to dodge their attacks while maintaining their advance. Britannian after Britannian fell to the bullets and projectiles, while those that remained returned fire in earnest against the wolves. The latter, remaining well aware of their mortality and their own machines' lack of endurance, dodged and evaded as best they could as they attacked that much further.
At least twice over, Ryo even moved into close quarters, extending both hidden blades and moving at best speed through the Britannian formation, cutting down a sheer multitude of Sutherlands as he passed while ensuring his knightmare remained untouched. One after the other he cut them down as he passed, striking them in the torsos or cockpit blocks to kill them straight away. He then finished his latest attack run, as it was, by twisting around and unlimbering his bazooka, firing two shots into another Sutherland and a Gloucester apiece before he was forced to disengage entirely. Even that did nothing to hinder the Britannians, much less break them of their damned mantra. "All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
"Shut up!" Ayano shouted as she put her own Wolfen into he reverse with Yukiya's, both firing their assault rifles into the great mass as it continued to sweep forward, like an oncoming plague or swarm. It was all unreal, far beyond the usual parameters of battle. What in hell's heart was driving the Britannians, she and Yukiya could only wonder even as they continued to blaze away at the whole? What had forced such…such madness upon them, that they would press forward without any regard whatsoever? Even for their own lives? The two Japanese born devicers, to say nothing of the others around them, could only ramble internally as the swarm of blue advanced. The Britannian numbers, as well as the wolves' ammunition reserves, falling throughout, though again the former had negligible effect.
"All units fall back!" Ryo commanded as he reversed his Wolfen into a withdrawal course, firing a few more shots from his bazooka into the line before turning around completely and speeding away, the other Wolfens quick to follow. A course of action that was being followed in itself by the other Eurasian formations across Yekaterinburg, who, one after the other, realized they could not stand firm against such an unbroken, unyielding tide. All as the Britannians, who were indeed empowered by a force that none on the battlefield could hope to conceive, drove on through the very heart of the city, seeking to overtake it. And any and all that would dare attempt to obstruct them still. "All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
Eurasian Charlemagne-class land battleship Friedrich Paulus
State of Volga, Eurasian Union
For the first time since Operation Tiegel's inception, Zhukov felt the first vestiges of terror well upon him as he watched the Britannians all but surge through Yekaterinburg undaunted, all as the defending forces fought on but were unable to stand firm. What was happening now was impossible, he knew. None of it, absolutely none of it, should have been, despite it all occurring in real time on the monitor before him. Despite the constant alarmed calls of the operators, despite order after order being relayed to the beleaguered troops on the field. Despite the near continuous signal losses from Eurasian troops as they were struck down, one after the other. Despite all of it being picked up by Zhukov's eyes and ears as remained there in the Paulus' CIC, he knew, absolutely knew, it should not have been happening. And yet, somehow and some way, it was.
Barely a few minutes ago the Britannians were deadlocked and in the midst of breaking. After whole days of fighting and bloodshed, Zhukov's plan had borne fruition, and the Eurasian forces had been set to drive the invaders out of Yekaterinburg proper, if not obliterate them altogether. Now, by whatever command that Bloody Marry had given through that strange and very unnerving broadcast of hers, the battlefield had shifted in its entirety. The Britannians were advancing as one, completely ignoring their casualties along the way, while the Eurasians were now the ones on the verge of breaking and/or being driven out. And for all of his working knowledge of the modern battlefield, General Sergei Zhukov, the Bear of the Far East, could not understand how any of it had happened. Or was happening altogether.
Even worse was that he not only did not understand what he was up against now, but how he could launch a counteroffensive against it. Once again the Imperials were on the complete advance. They were dying in droves as a result, but that advance was not slowing down in the slightest, much less faltering. This meant the Britannians no longer cared about their collective mortality, and were all but throwing themselves into the fire as a result. Only their advance wasn't a simple human wave attack – a tactic that Zhukov was intimately familiar with by his familial history alone – either. The enemy was still employing tactics in their advancement, whether striking at specific areas where defenses were the weakest, ensnaring the retreating Eurasians in pincer maneuvers and ambushes or utilizing long-range artillery to hit targets not in immediate reach, among many, many others. Yet they were doing all of it without any regard to themselves, to their own survival. As though that part of their psyche, much else along with it, had somehow been subdued.
Zhukov had a dark feeling that was indeed the case, especially given the horrific mantra that the Britannians were chanting as they moved forward, like a real army of the damned being ushered on. As though the Britannians had been reduced from fully functional human beings to automatons, a collection of soulless drones whose only purpose was to claim victory for their deranged princess. And again, Zhukov knew Bloody Marry was the one responsible for this, even if he still did not understand how. That speech of hers had simply been the activation command to whatever was driving her troops forward; one of the words therein a code to engage the apparent hypnosis she had placed on her own soldiers. Once more, how did he fight such a foe? Especially when the whole was as fearless, to the very extent of the word, as they were inclined to meeting their objectives? Again the general could not come up with an answer, despite the fact he had but minutes, if that, to figure out a counterstrategy. Less Bloody Marry's forces eradicate Yekaterinburg, and all those therein, in their entirety.
"All forces withdraw to Sectors Phi and Upsilon," Zhukov commanded out of reflex, his voice carrying over the chatter of the operations staff. He was placing his forces at the very western fringes of the city, but that was his only option for the time being. "Break them up along the river and counterattack accordingly!"
Again it was only a delaying tactic at best, but putting his troops with their backs against the wall in those two sectors would at least for the Britannians to divide along the Iset as Zhukov alluded to. Perhaps their numbers would be whittled down that much quicker as a result, though the General retained his doubts. Once again he was fighting a complete unknown at present. Something that, despite having fought Bloody Marry across the whole of the Far East for five years running, he had not seen in action until now.
All as the mass of Britannian signals continued to enclose upon the city's western lines. Entirely regardless of the Eurasian bulwark, itself in full retreat.
Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, Britannian Empire
In spite of his focus and the ongoing battle with his twin, Orpheus felt himself seethe as he, through the Byakuen's sensors as well as that infernal chanting, realized all too well what was happening. Somehow and some way, the worst possible outcome, one that even Zero himself had not figured, had just occurred. And while he had no way of learning how Marrybell had gained her Geass – or how everyone, including V.V. and the rest of the Eildons, had seemingly overlooked her – it was quite clear what that Geass' power was. And who, precisely, Bloody Marry had used it upon.
Damn you Bloody Marry, the insurgent thought as his sensors picked up an enemy formation advancing toward him, as unconcerned about his fight with Oldrin as they were with their own survival. Orpheus sneered after them, and their thrice-damned princess, as he evaded their fire while switching his IAS over to its cannon mode, gunning down one Sutherland as soon as the shift was completed. The stricken knightmare hadn't even bothered to dodge, nor did the others with it as Orpheus shot them down one after the other, right before changing his IAS over to its double blade mode and moving into close quarters. The Geass fodder continued to attack him, quite relentlessly in fact, but Orpheus was quick to affirm that they were not evading any of his attacks, even as he cut them down one after the other. As a result, it barely took a minute to dispatch them, at which point the Urien was upon him again. Luminous enhanced schroetter steel sword falling against red double blade, the eye cameras of either knightmare once more glaring into the other, emulating their devicers.
"Warmonger, mass murderer, and now enslaver! Of her own soldiers no less!" Orpheus called out to his twin sister with even greater virulence than before, their respective blades locked into place for the moment. "You truly do the House of Zevon proud, Oldrin! How, for all of your self-proclaimed righteousness, could you even think of pledging fealty to that sick monster!?"
"Do not speak of things you have no understanding of Orpheus!" Oldrin shot back, both verbally and with her sword harken, forcing the Byakuen to reverse and withdraw. The latter quickly switched its right arm back to its gun and returned fire, but the leader of the Ceridwen Knights was more than capable of evasion, in turn launching two more sword harken attacks to keep her brother moving and evading. "You know nothing of Her Highness!"
"I know enough!" Orpheus countered with escalating fury, still unable to completely process what his monitors and sensors – not to mention his cockpit speakers – were telling him from outside the duel. He grit his teeth as he still yet wrestled with all of it, the sheer insanity behind it all. "Through all this and more, I know damned well enough!"
Switching back to his double blade, Orpheus charged once more, slashing at the Urien's waist and forcing it to leap back while refiring its sword harkens. The Byakuen reversed as well, causing the pronged anchors to impale themselves into the ground, then retaliating with its own harken and causing the sister to dodge left. Orpheus, moving even faster now, took the opportunity to intercept her, once again bringing his arm blade down against his sister's crossed sword blazers, attempting to overcome. The fury in the brother's eyes an even match for that of the conflicted defiance within the sister's, the latter unable to help but retain her own feelings, as forced away as they were in the present, toward her liege and the curse she had inflicted upon her army.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
Wading his way through the seemingly endless lines, Tohdoh did well to bite back and ignore the equally endless chanting that seemed to encompass Krasnoyarsk's very airspace. Not only was it coming in on every frequency, such that he and the Black Knights could not simply change their communications to a clear channel, but he felt as though he were hearing penetrate through the Zangetsu's cockpit block. All the while the Sutherlands and Gloucesters, driven by a power that even the man behind the Miracle of Itsukushima was still unable to fully understand, all but threw themselves at the General and the army he was spearheading, attacking he and the Four Holy Swords in particular with fanatical zeal. All the while Tohdoh and his comrades continued to cut or shoot them down, several at a time now, only for several more to move in and replace the fallen just as quickly.
"Remain firm!" Tohdoh commanded the Four Holy Swords and the rest of the Black Knights by extension, hoping against hope that his voice carried over the enemy's mantra. It was all he could call out to them in that moment as a pair of Gloucesters soon came charging in, their lances both set to impale the Zangetsu simultaneously from opposite angles. Reacting fast, Tohdoh reversed his knightmare and allowed the lances to intersect, right before launching the harken on his seidotou's hilt, which smashed and raptured the right flank of one of the enemy knightmare's torso. That was enough to throw it off balance, to which Tohdoh promptly finished it off with his handgun, then maneuvering out of the way of the opposite Gloucester's fire. That one he took out with his second to last radiant wave rocket, the cockpit never even showing signs of ejecting as the projectile impacted and bubbled the machine over with radiation.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…" the chanting rang on as a team of Sutherlands soon came after Tohdoh, attacking in a traditional pincer maneuver that forced the General back into maneuvering. Chiba and Urabe quickly intercepted two of the Sutherlands, leaving the remaining two for Tohdoh himself to deal with, which he was want to do as additional signals were moving toward his position. As literally suicidal as the enemy was acting, Tohdoh could see that they retained their tactical acumen; in fact, the General saw that it was "merely" the Britannians' survival instincts that were being suppressed, while their morale and motivation toward accomplishing their objectives remained unaffected, perhaps even enhanced greatly. Less a berserker horde, the General noted as he slashed down those two Sutherlands in a single pass, and more an army of wraiths or phantoms, beings that possessed no sense of self, much less self-preservation. All brought upon them by a force Tohdoh had long grown to fear, especially now.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…" Tohdoh could only grit his teeth, somehow feeling the mantra intensify as additional enemy knightmares moved upon him and the Holy Swords, as well as those other Black Knight and Peace Mark units that were fighting close by. Again he evaded their attacks and retaliated in kind, the enemy once more not bothering to defend themselves as they were laid to heel, one after the other. The rocket thrusters of the seidotou blazed active as Tohdoh slashed it about, sweeping it through Sutherland after Sutherland, Gloucester after Gloucester, just as the Swords and the others were doing the same with the katen yaibatous. Yet none of this had any effect on the Britannians outside their literal numbers, who maintained their collective assault, with any maneuvering implemented geared toward attacking their targets from the flank or rear as opposed to dodging their reprisal. Their movements as unnerving as their chorus, which never changed in tone or intensity, no matter how many voices were silenced.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
Another Gloucester came charging after him, forcing Lelouch to twist around and engage his right arm Blaze Luminous to deflect its lance, in turn allowing Kallen to flank it and take it down with a grenade. As with the rest of Krasnoyarsk, the Geass enslave enemy was coming after the Demon King and Dragoness in abundance, such that it was a but a short moment after the Gloucester fell that two more Sutherlands moved in its place and attempted to flank the pair, respective assault rifle and bazooka blazing as they attacked. Naturally the prince and knight broke formation the moment the enemy fired, both striking down either Sutherland with a slash harken apiece. That wasn't enough to neutralize them however – in any other scenario the pilots would have ejected for sure – so both aces then finished the enemies off with a VARIS shot and surger blast apiece. Naturally that did nothing to slow the remaining enemies, who were just as quick to take the place of their fallen comrades and attack the Mordred and Guren Nishiki in full force. "All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
Lelouch could only inwardly curse himself as he swapped his VARIS for his MVS again, Kallen remaining by his side as the pair drove through the next formation, striking down the enemy knightmares with their respective melee weapons. Of all the possibilities Lelouch had considered prior to the assault, this one had not even registered to him, and he sneered over his not even entertaining it. How in this dark hell of a world had Marrybell, of all people, gained Geass!? There was no way she could have been associated with V.V. or the Eildons, much less be part of Ragnarok. Lelouch had never seen any indication of a Code Bearer being around her; in fact, outside her knight Dame Oldrin and select siblings, Lelouch could not recall Marrybell being close to anyone as he was with C.C. By all facts and logic, Marrybell should have been no different than any other one of his siblings – her obvious derangement aside of course – and just as to be conventionally dealt with. And yet, as he was clearly seeing all around him now, that had been a gross miscalculation on his part. "All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
"Damn you Marry," Lelouch snarled as he bifurcated another Sutherland at the waistline, its cockpit block not ejecting as the upper half fell over. As a result, the former prince had to take care to stab his MVS into the block as well, especially as the still operating knightmare attempted to raise its rifle toward him just before. "How did you get such power?"
"Bank left!" Kallen called out suddenly, right as the Mordred's Druid System lit up in warning. Cursing yet again, Lelouch followed his knight's commanded precisely, right as another ion beam from the heavens lanced down and swept over where he had previously been. A whole line of enemy knightmares – their mistress' power once more preventing them from evading – were wiped out in an instant, while a black, burning line was etched firmly into the ground and several now burning buildings. As though the miscreants in Volgograd had nothing better to do now, despite all that was happening.
Through the strain, as well as his anticipation of the next oncoming attack, Lelouch's mind rambled for a proper counterstrategy. Only nothing was coming to mind, not even a small semblance of a plan. He was doing well enough remaining ahead of Balmung and fighting Marrybell's Geass slaves simultaneously – with Kallen remaining beside him of course – but no matter how hard he tried to devise a scheme against either, Lelouch's mind remained blank outside of reflex and battlefield instinct. Once again this was a scenario he had never considered, and for good reason. It should have been outright impossible for Marry to have her own Power of the Queen, yet here he was, fighting her zealous, unyielding horde. Doing well to simply remain alive for that much longer.
Such was further emphasized when he heard both Kallen call him to reverse alongside his Druid System again. Lelouch again followed his knight's command, bringing the Mordred into a quick withdrawal as the next ion beam shot down and struck the very spot he had been, right before attempting to sweep out and catch him still. To this, the Demon King dodged right, resulting in the beam striking through yet another line of Britannians, as well as nearby infrastructure. At the very least the Eurasians were unintentionally helping him, as their overhead attacks were doing more in whittling down Marrybell's army than any of his and Kallen's ground level ones. He again found himself gritting his teeth at their negligence in attacking him instead of Marrybell at the onset.
Still, none of this solved his immediate problems, any more than when he and Kallen moved on against the next Britannian formation. His original plan was in shambles, and he needed a new one and fast. Somehow and some way he had to salvage this operation while Marrybell remained within his reach – a point of status that was all too likely lessening with each passing moment – before she could escape. Yet even so, Lelouch had nothing. Nothing beyond was necessary in his present circumstances in fighting back the horde and keeping ahead of that damned wunderwaffe.
All the while the knights of Marrybell's army of the damned continued after him and Kallen. Just as the light continued to fall from above at select intervals.
Britannian armored train Flora mel Britannia
Siberia, Britannian Empire
As melodic as it was haunting, the laughter of Princess and General Marrybell mel Britannia carried well passed her cabin and seemingly through the entirety of the train. She had never dreamed that any of this could come to pass, much less on two battlegrounds simultaneously. Her army was advancing in every sector of Yekaterinburg and Krasnoyarsk, all but rushing through the city as a great, unstoppable tempest. Her enemies – the Eurasians, the Black Knights and the remnants of Peace Mark of all things – were routed and withdrawing all too quickly, doing all they could to continue to fight yet quite incapable of dissuading her soldiers in any way or form. All as Zhukov and Zero both gnashed – perhaps even literally – in their efforts to find some means of stopping them, and her.
Indeed, as she herself did well to witness, her Power of Absolute Submission lived up to its title. Not only did it enslave those she cast it upon to her will, but it also stripped them of their ego and sense of self, relegating them to her most dedicated minions. Minions who lived only to serve her and her alone, no matter what obstacle or enemy they were to face. Granted this meant that they possessed no means of maintaining their own survival or continuation – unless she commanded them to do so of course – but that was of little concern to Marrybell for clear reasons. All that mattered was that they would fulfill her will, her desire, to the letter, even if it meant their dying to see it all through. The true Power of the Queen, one that surpassed even the power of an Emperor. Or a God.
The princess need not have to look to her side, where her friend's attendant continued to standby, to see the truth in that. Though she did not know the organization that she had reported to, Marrybell had long been aware Toto Thompson had been sent to kill her, and so had taken the necessary precautions from the onset. Through this advent, her would be assassin remained where she was, the telltale glow of the Power emanating from her eyes as her target sat just before her, yet completely out of her reach. And if Marrybell required it, she could just as easily have "loyal" Toto take her own life and be done with it then and there. That is, assuming Marrybell did not find other uses for this onetime assassin in the present.
Regardless, as the princess' laughter died down, Marrybell retained her attention toward the monitor. All too rapidly were her three sets of enemies faltering, while her own forces remained wholly unbroken. Again the former did well to resist to the last, but Marrybell knew that the conclusion of this battle – these battles – was inevitable now. It would not be much longer before both Zhukov and Zero were forced to conserve their respective forces and withdraw entirely, living to fight another day as it were. She need only remain patient for that much longer.
"Captain of our fairy band," Marrybell began to quote from her favorite play, which she found perfect for all that she was seeing before her. "Helena is here at hand; And the youth, mistook by me, pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see?"
Her smile, already as dark and malevolent as one could find on a face such as hers, became that much more so as she finished. "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"
Eurasian Charlemagne-class land battleship Friedrich Paulus
State of Volga, Eurasian Union
The calls of the operators, as well as the "VERLONEN" indicators, were frantic to the breaking point now. As the situation, and the battle lines, degenerated more and more across the monitors, the various operators in the CIC were rapidly calling out commands and directions to those on the field, who were even now yet fighting to keep the Britannians back on some level. Only Zhukov – even with his eyes momentarily closed and not looking toward said monitors – understood that there was no recovery from this. Indeed much for the worst, the battle had been called the moment Marrybell had sent that command to her troops, turning them into the automatons that they were presently. An enemy that, as things were now, Eurasia had no way of fighting against effectively, let alone dominating. Which in itself meant the one outcome that Zhukov had dreaded since this all began.
"End operation," he commanded almost softly, causing the voices to nearly still and all eyes to look in morbid shock. Only then did Zhukov open his eye, allowing the weariness to allow show through, as well as the fact that he was all too serious. "Send out the withdrawal signal immediately. All units."
For a brief moment, it was as though a gunshot had sounded through the CIC, its occupants momentarily frozen as they processed what they had just heard. And then, just as quickly as it had all happened, the moment had passed and the operators went back to work, this time sending out their general's order and the following directives of withdrawal. The monitors showed the shift but a few moments later as the Eurasian lines at last broke – this time beyond the point of recovery – and the various marked signals began to move eastward, their course set toward Yekaterinburg's border and beyond. All as the Britannians kept up their momentum, this time in pursuit of their retreating foes.
For a long moment Zhukov wanted nothing more than to drive his fist into something, whether be it a console or a human face, over this travesty. This was no simple defeat, he knew, as had previous battles had been. This should have been the battle that sealed the Far Eastern Front for Eurasia proper, and saw the complete desolation of Bloody Marry's army. Instead, the near opposite had just occurred, all due to an advent that Zhukov had had no means of predicting, and his only choice now was to preserve as much of his forces as possible. He would need them in the near future, he knew, which itself assured him somewhat.
No, the war was not over, he continued to assure himself, though he had just suffered a strategic defeat. With Yekaterinburg fallen, Marrybell would be able to march her troops through the Urals and into the west proper, and any defense of Eurasien would be fought in that area of the world. A proverbial stone's throw away from Moscow, and just beyond, Berlin. Would Zhukov and his surviving army succeed where they had failed here? The Bear of the Far East had no way to be sure; in fact, he had hoped against hope that question would never be answered. Especially as the western half of the Rodina was far more populated than the eastern side was. How many of those innocents would Bloody Marry cast to the fire? How… how could he have failed them so…?
Zhukov suddenly felt himself lurch a little as the Friedrich Paulus began to move again. Now that the fighting was about to shift, there was no reason for her to remain Perm for any longer. Yet another indication of how crucial Operation Tiegel had been, and how the worst possible outcome had resulted from its failure.
"Gott sei mit uns," Zhukov whispered, purposely speaking that short prayer in German rather than his native language. For now it was not just the Rodina that would need His hand, but all of Eurasien. Now more than ever.
Yekaterinburg, State of Ural, Eurasian Union
Father… Andrei thought, even through the surrounding carnage, which now seemingly fell into the background for that particular moment. He was still in the middle of battle of course, emphasized as he cut down yet another Sutherland in a high speed dash with his heat saber and then repeated the maneuver with another Britannian, but once more such might as well had been background noise for that particular moment. The battle was over, Andrei knew, and Eurasia had lost. Perhaps even the entirety of the war altogether.
"Let's go Unsullied One!" Louise called out hurriedly, her Baer skimming near Andrei's as it blazed away with a Britannian rifle it had somehow obtained. Firing a grenade straight into a nearby Gloucester, which had appeared to be mounting for a lance charge, the mono-eye of the Eurasian knightmare swiveled over to its partner. "There's nothing more we can do here!"
Sighing, Andrei nodded in understanding, his own Baer stowing its heat saber simultaneously. There was no point in fighting any longer, especially when there was still more fighting to be had later on.
"Roger that Whirlwind One," he spoke in monotone as he turned his knightmare about and reengaged his ground effect thrusters. Louise did the same the moment she depleted the last of her stolen weapons ammunition, then throwing the rifle back at the horde altogether as she sped away herself. Much was the same with the rest of the surviving Eurasian forces in Yekaterinburg, who, one after the other, could only focus on retreat from the city's western sector. Through this, Britannians advanced forward all but completely unopposed.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…"
Well, this is all rather anti-climactic, Luciano thought as the report came in that the Eurasians were retreating in all sectors. It had been an inevitable conclusion, he knew, but for one who relished fighting like him, it was a bit of a shame. Especially when he was having so much fun against his current opponent, who presently had locked his arm blades against the Maleagant's katar and vice claw edge. The mono-eye on the former glaring down into the Round knightmare's twin cameras still.
Luciano could only smile toward Hannibal's Ghost, who by and large looked like he would have continued their duel for a little while longer as well. Alas, as much as the Vampire of Britannia would have welcomed it, he would much prefer the enemy ace to survive for the next bout. Especially when that next bout would undoubtedly be fought in Moscow, which promised to be much more fun than Yekaterinburg had been. The Knight of Ten actually shivered at the possibilities.
As a result, he had the Maleagant's hip slash harkens angle and fire, forcing the Eurasian machine back by the surprise maneuver. This gave Luciano more than enough time to reverse and move away, especially as a nearby Sutherland unit quickly took notice of the Ghost and began to advance accordingly.
"Another time, Geist," Luciano called out as he withdrew, the Sutherlands moving in his place to engage the wayward Ghost. The Knight of Ten didn't bother listening for a return reply, or even if the Ghost managed to fight off his new attackers, though he was quite sure he would do so. Instead he focused on removing himself from the field, his part of the war effectively done for the time being. After all, there was no point for him to remain when Bloody Marry's tin soldiers were stealing all the kills.
"All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia… All Hail Britannia…" the chanting continued through the radio, which Luciano disengaged before sheer irritation set in. Enslaving her tin soldiers was one thing, but did they really have to break out into song along the way? And did that song have to be so abundant that Luciano could almost hear it through the walls of his cockpit?
On the other hand, he still had to hand it to the good princess. For all of her personal presentation as fair and gallant, Marrybell mel Britannia truly lived up to her title, much more so than Luciano did his own. That in itself caused the Knight of Ten to lick his lips in anticipation, wondering just what kind of future the princess envisioned. And the amount of blood that would undoubtedly be spilled therein.
Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, Britannian Empire
Lelouch did not know how it happened, especially as it occurred while he was still in the middle of fighting, but when it did, it came across his consciousness like a lightning bolt. All at once he felt his body light up with the realization – as much as it could as he engaged a Gloucester with his MVS – only for it to settle back again with solemn resolution. Somewhere over two thousand kilometers to the west, the most pivotal battle in Eurasia's history had just concluded. As did the one Lelouch and his own army were presently fighting in, no matter how much more they stood and fought.
"Gyoku One to all units," Lelouch called out over the Black Knights and Peace Mark's shared broadband, doing well to keep the anger out of his tone. "Yekaterinburg has fallen."
Though he could not see his soldiers' general reaction to that announcement, he knew it was not far from the feelings he had within. Anger, remorse, grudging acceptance and, seemingly above all, uncertainty toward the future. Even so, the Demon King bit back these emotions as he delivered the awaited command. "Cease operation and withdraw immediately."
Hearing that while keeping her own turmoil at bay, Kallen twisted the Guren around and fired a sweeping beam from her surger, boiling several of the enemy knightmares in range and opening up a new path for she and her liege to move through. Putting all power into their respective landspinners, the Guren, and the Mordred just behind, sped southward, toward the direction from whence they had entered the city. Those enemy knightmares still active naturally pursued, but neither Lelouch nor Kallen wasted effort in turning their respective machines around and firing their VARIS and surger in tandem, destroying those that were closest to them. The rest simply could not match the two seventh generation knightmares' speed.
"Damn you Marry," Lelouch repeated in a sharp hiss as he followed the Guren toward the distant extraction point, narrowly dodging or removing any lingering hostiles along the route, up to and including the still ongoing attacks from above. An act that was easily mirrored by the rest of the Black Knights and their Peace Mark affiliates, who were now all running back toward where they had entered in from.
Damn, Jeremiah thought as he again made the Akizuki dodge the oncoming missile fire, having just received his liege's command to withdraw with the rest. He would have withdrawn and joined the retreat himself, but the Kirkwall appeared rather intent on killing him before he could so much as attempt such, again deploying its stark hadron cannon and firing. Naturally the cyborg dodged the stream, allowing it to blast through a line of buildings as he maneuvered away on his landspinners, all the while redrawing his assault rifle. It would have been a tricky shot for the average devicer, but Jeremiah was so adept with the weapon that he thought little of it when he took quick aim and launched his last grenade. The projectile slamming straight into the Kirkwall's faceplate and knocking it back, the physical shock as well as the psychological to the pilot in enough to make the giant fall on its ass.
"Another time Ceridwen," Jeremiah called out over his loudspeaker before turning and speeding away, not bothering to wait for the enemy's response. Seeing said enemy's skill level, as well as the fact he – and somehow he knew it was a "he" – piloting a higher end knightmare, it was obvious that Jeremiah had been fighting one of the core members of the Ceridwen Knights all this time. He didn't know if he would face him again in the future, but he didn't discount the possibility either. Of course, such was the least of his concerns in the present, as his sensors quickly picked up several Sutherlands and one or two Gloucesters moving to intercept him, much to his ire.
"You lackeys will not hinder me!" Jeremiah bellowed as the lens behind his left eye retracted, revealing his Geass Canceller to the world. He waited until the enemy knightmares were in line before engaging it, to which they instantly froze, their pilots clearly dumbstruck from the shock and their returned memories. The former Eildon could not help but muse at the irony of that, considering he had attempted that exact strategy against his rightful liege just before, only for that plan to fail due to Lelouch never having used Geass on his soldiers in the first place. Clearly Marrybell was not in her brother's league for doing just the opposite, the newest member of the Black Knights continued to muse as he extended his frame's forearm blades.
It took but a single drive forward for him to slash down each and every one of the enemy, having aimed specifically for their respective knightmares' cockpit blocks. Again their abject shock prevented them from dodging the attacks, and Jeremiah, while no longer an Eildon, was in no mood to allow any adversary with the knowledge of Geass live to tell their tale. One after the other the Britannian knightmares fell as puppets with their strings cut – which was not far from the truth – from which the Akizuki completed its run. A fair amount of human blood splatted across its orange armor, but again Jeremiah paid it no mind. Once again, too much was at risk for him allow those aware of the Power of the King – save for the obvious – to roam freely. And there remained his original task of withdrawing with his army of course.
As a result, he continued his withdrawal, dodging yet another blast from the increasingly distant, but since recovered Kirkwall as he moved on. There was no way the sluggish behemoth could ever hope to catch up to the Akizuki, while the regular fodder that continued to stand in his way was simply "liberated" and cut down or shot in equal measure. All of it resulting in a fair abundant of downed knightmares and corpses being left in Jeremiah's wake as he moved through Krasnoyarsk's southern sector, rejoining the greater part of the Black Knights in but a few minutes' time.
Gritting his teeth as the withdrawal order reached him as, Orpheus switched his right arm back to its cannon configuration and fired three more shots after the Urien before attempting to retreat. Oldrin, however, had none of it as she put her knightmare at full speed and moved back upon the Byakuen, her right sword blazer crashing down against the white knightmare's hastily swapped double blade.
"Leaving so soon Orpheus?" the sister sneered down to her twin brother with as much hate as she could muster, despite the circumstances. This was emphasized by the Urien applying pressure against its opponent. "Why not stay and end all of it!?"
"I would like to Oldrin, but no, not this time," Orpheus spoke almost regrettably as he forced away his sister's blades, then fired his slash harken at near point blank to drive her further off. He then reengaged his cannon and fired several more shots after her before turning away again, this time moving just out of the Urien's reach. There was no way his sister could pursue him at that point, though the same could not be said for Bloody Marry's still enslaved minions, much to Orpheus' irritation.
"Rest assured however," Orpheus proclaimed as he slashed and hacked his way through the horde as he drove southward to join his allies. "There will be a reckoning! For you and your thrice-damned princess!"
Sneering back toward both her brother's words and the Byakuen's retreating form, Oldrin nonetheless realized it would be futile to pursue. Thus she disengaged her blazers, the schroetter steel blades within shattering from the resultant energy drain. Indeed, for better or worse, the battle was over for her side as well as Orpheus'.
"You're right about that much brother," Orpheus glowered back at her twin, the man who shared her face and lineage. The man she had been set to kill from the start. "There will be a reckoning. And I dare believe it will come all too soon."
Balmung Control
Volgograd, State of Azov, Eurasian Union
"Continue firing!" Peiper called out in open triumph, barely able to believe what he was seeing now over the main monitor. The Black Knights, and the terrorist rabble that they had apparently allied with, in full retreat from Krasnoyarsk, while their Britannian pursuers charged on en mass. Whatever had happened since Princess Marrybell's broadcast might have routed Zhukov's forces in Yekaterinburg – bastard regulars that Peiper and the rest of the sturmtruppen did well to keep in mind – but it had also unnerved Zero enough for him to turn tail and run. And as a result, it would not much longer now before Peiper truly had him dead to rights, especially on the open wilderness south of Krasnoyarsk. "Today is the day we slay the Demon King, once and for all!"
Indeed, while Operation Tiegel would go down in history as the great defeat and failure that it was, the same would not be said for Peiper's own efforts, he knew. For Balmung remained his, and with it, he would literally smite Zero from the face of the earth, thereby removing one of Eurasia's most dangerous enemies from the equation. And again, given the openness of the field that the Black Knights were now moving into, staying just ahead of the pursuing Britannians, Herr Zero would have no means of running much further, much less hiding. From that, it would be all too simple to turn Balmung around and right Zhukov's wrongs in…
It happened so fast that Peiper barely realized it had occurred, such that it was the whine of the mass of "VERLONEN" indicators that reached him first. Right before his eyes at last caught up and found the open space where Zero and his army had once been.
"What…?" the Stormtrooper Colonel gaped as he began to realize what had just happened, but just barely. One moment, he had Zero dead to rights, along with the Black Knights et al. The next moment, they were all gone. Seemingly vanished into thin air, much as the actual devil would. "What happened!?"
"Unknown sir!" one of the operators called out as he and his fellows scrambled to identify what had just occurred. Unfortunately there was nothing, literally nothing, to be found. Whether on the tacscreen or on the live feeds, there was absolutely no trace of the Black Knights in any part of the field. "They're just gone!"
"Well find them, damn it!" Peiper bellowed as he both scrambled to rationalize what had just happened and to find any trace of his target, while the opportunity yet remained. Yet even more unfortunately, as the colonel's eyes darted across the monitor, there was still nothing to be found. Nothing but the suddenly stilled forms of the Britannians, who, also having lost their targets, had apparently gone inactive. "Find them!"
The Colonel's enraged and desperate outcry rang throughout the command center, causing the operators to labor that much more to reidentifying their target. Yet the inevitability remained however, no matter how many times they checked their instruments or scanned over the field. One way or another, Zero had just up and vanished with the entirety of his Order, leaving no article or remnant to be found and used to trace. All having occurred as, several screens over, the Britannians, having completely driven the Eurasian forces of Yekaterinburg, turned back inward and began mopping up operations in full.
Britannian armored train Flora mel Britannia
Siberia, Britannian Empire
It was over, Marrybell beamed quite contently as she watched her forces turn back and begin their final sweeps through the now conquered city of Yekaterinburg. There was no laughter to be had on her part this time, only a great sense of victory. Victory in perhaps the most important battle of the war, short of that which she would fight in Moscow. Victory that saw her that much closer to her endgame, her dream for the future. Victory that brought that much more toward her Euro Britannia, and all that would occur from its foundation.
And it was true as they said, for victory was indeed quite sweet. For Marrybell to stand atop her enemies – even if momentarily – and gaze down upon the ravaged, desolated world before her. Undefeated, unmolested and in complete triumph. Such that even the Demon King himself had failed to reach her, despite his most valiant efforts.
Still, through her zeal, Marrybell knew better than to believe that this conquest effectively ended the war. She did not know how Zero made that last escape, but it was safe to assume he would still be out there, waiting to strike toward her once again when the opportunity presented itself. Likewise, Zhukov remained just as active, and he had even more forces ready to fight on the western side of the Urals than he had in Yekaterinburg. Overall, the Far Eastern Front may have entered its final stages, but the fact remained that it remained as undecided as before. Itself meaning Marrybell could still lose yet.
The princess shook her head at the notion regardless, paying it little mind. Let them all come for her, she dared them. In time they would all be defeated and destroyed, from which she would stand over their corpses in finality. And from their defeat, she would claim her rightful dominion. As well as her will upon this dark, godforsaken world.
But again, that was for another day. For now, there was but the sweetness of her victory. And, as Marrybell smiled that much more, watching as her forces removed the final vestiges of resistance from her city, the anticipation toward what was to come...
