Disclaimer: Code Geass belongs to Sunrise. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is property of Hirohiko Araki.

Chapter 1: No Colours Anymore

There are certain expectations held by many young minds; In the right circumstances, in the right time and the right place they could become a certified badass. If they were trained by ninjas or monks in some ancient martial art. If they were in an accident and half of their body was replaced with cybernetics. Or if their family was brutally slaughtered, and they swore a vow of bloody revenge, for example if their mother was slain and their sweet innocent little sister was left blind and crippled by the attack.

Now, this young man may not look like a certified badass. He was lean, tall and his eyes reflected a piercing analytical intelligence. But a badass? No. That was not the impression he left on most people. Wiseass, yes. Badass, no.

Most people hadn't seen him play a game of chess.

"This is your substitute? A high school boy?" The man sitting at one end of a chess board let out a laugh that sounded like a scavenger choking on a bone. "If you wanted to concede, you didn't need to be so entertaining while you did it!"

The boy didn't say anything at first, merely contending himself with a smile. So this was his opponent today? An overweight noble with some small talent in chess. Yes. That ancient game of wit and skill. Manipulating pieces on the board until a player is forced to concede defeat, for they have nowhere else to run. He regarded the noble with a slightly more critical eye than he deserved. He could see it so easily. Chess was all that he knew, and yet he was the most important person within his bubble. Nobody within it had ever defeated him, or at least had done so in a way that could be brushed off as luck rather than strategy or planning.

"What's your name?" the noble said.

"Lelouch Lamperouge," he replied, sitting with his back to the window. Lelouch's shadow fell over the board. It would appear that he was substituting into a losing battle. Almost all of the pawns were gone, and all that was left were the knights and a bishop.

And, of course, the king. Painted black, just like his subordinates.

Lelouch smiled at a private joke. Oh, Tobias! An arrogant noble's spirit, ripte for plucking. You really didn't have to give such a wonderful, thoughtful gift. But you do it anyway, you hopeless gambler.

A little behind him, his friend Rivalz let out a low whistle. "Even you can't win this one," he said. "It's impossible, right?"

Ah, Rivalz! If you really thought that defeat would come so easily then why would you drive here in the first place? Why risk the money when there were easier and more reliable ways to make it? Was it the thrill of the game, or were you honestly that confident in your friend's abilities? Lelouch could only speculate. It mattered little. He wasn't here for the money. He was here to rub a noble's face in their own inadequacies, and whatever their arrogance might lead them to believe they had plenty to get rubbed into.

"Nine minutes," Lelouch said, running his finger along the black king's crown. "Nine minutes is all I need."

"Just another nine minutes, then we're home free!"

Famous last words, that's what those sounded like. The operation had gone smoothly so far. The guards had been dropped without much of a struggle. Silently. Efficiently. Nobody had noticed a pair of Japanese - Oh, excuse me, "Elevens" - were monitoring the gate. Not yet. Nobody really looked at faces. They looked at uniforms. They looked at body language and listened to the meant that they were able to take point until the time arrived. Nine minutes passed like nine years, and then they saw it. The target. The truck.

Naturally, it stopped for the gate and naturally, the driver flashed their ID to the guard at point. Which is exactly when he turned and found a gun pointed right in his stupid Britannian face, which stared stupidly back at the end of the barrel.

Damn it Tamaki. What the hell is even your deal?! Stick to the plan in future. If you have a death wish try not to drag other people into it as well!

The driver fumbled for a gun, as did the man in the passenger seat and the six accompanying soldiers. Ten seconds later, those men were dead in a hail of gunfire, and another ten seconds after that the two of them were in the front of that truck hauling ass out of there hoping and praying to whatever god listened that nobody but nobody saw that. As for Ohgi, Tamaki and the others? Scattered to god knows where.

Had anyone thought to ask her, Kallen would have remarked that the part of the mission she thought would be most stressful was now over. Others would stare at her like she'd just eaten a live puppy. "But that's the easy part!" they would state, rather missing the point. Of course the easy part was the most stressful. That's when you have the most time to think of every little thing that can go wrong. That's when you see the twenty car pile up waiting for you, and it's where you start to really think hard about the consequences of failure. No time to think of that while trying to keep yourself being burned. No time to consider the consequences, no time to dwell on it and let your imagination run havoc wild.

In this case the consequences of failure involved nerve gas.

It was a funny thing. As soon as they climbed inside, Kallen felt something. It wasn't a rational feeling that she could explain, and almost certainly brought about by her knowledge of what they were carrying. A subconscious compulsion to get away from it before it got released, before it killed her in ways too horrible to articulate. That's all it was. That's all it had to be. A cowardly impulse. And if she'd learned anything in the last few minutes, it was that listening to an impulse wasn't usually the best response to a trying situation.

"Damn Tamaki! Why'd he have to go and pull that?" Nagata said. "This is the last thing we need!"

"No," Kallen said. "The last thing we need is them using that gas for whatever they had planned for it."

But she could see what he meant in the rear view mirror. They hadn't pulled out the heavy guns quite yet, but it was just a matter of time. Kallen glanced back towards the capsule and felt it again. An unceasing malevolence that threatened to swallow her whole. It was irrational. She knew that. But somehow, she kept having this single lingering thought.

Whatever is inside is worse than any gas. Far, far worse.

"To all my imperial subjects!"

Speaking of things that were toxic. Here comes their "beloved" Viceroy with a televised "moving" speech tailor made to make her blood boil.

"Can you not see my pain? Can you not see how these actions tear at my heart?" he lied. Such a pretty lie told so well. They'd swallow it down like the sweetest candy with no heed to how bad it was for them. "I have been a kind and compassionate ruler! And yet they see fit to repay that kindness with murder and theft. So be it! Their kind can only understand cruelty and rage and for this we must offer them our pity. Yet we must not let it blind us! I cannot tolerate these actions! For the well being of all, I shall bring these villains to justice! On that, you have my word!"

Oh yes, Viceroy. Such a pretty mask you wore in public. It wouldn't do for the people to realise how much blood was on their hands, it wouldn't do for them to imagine that they stood upon the backs of others, that they were among the monsters. So far as the public had to know they were the civilized folk. Not oppressors but enlighteners. Dragging up the uncivilized even if against their will.

If only the world could see the man's true nature. If only the cameras kept rolling after the speech was concluded.

When he opened the door to the side room, Prince Clovis had a smile on his face that could melt ice and charm a table into performing a cartwheel. The instant the door closed, the mask dropped and General Bartley had to fight not to wince under that gaze.

"Allow me, for a moment, to recount your mistakes. Should I misunderstand the situation, please do not hesitate to correct me," Clovis said. Bartley nodded. Clovis continued, counting off his fingers while striding across the room.

"The first mistake was that you placed your proverbial eggs in the same basket. The witch and the artefact, both contained within the same vehicle! Such an ingenious security stratagem!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"Your second mistake is that you cannot tell when someone is being facetious," Clovis said. "This is unimportant for the time being and can be dealt with at a later time." He extended his hand. A bottle of wine on the table lifted off the air as though lifted by the wind itself, lifting over towards Clovis' outreached hand. He detached the cork, and tipped some of its contents into a nearby glass, which was hovering in the air. Bartley stared at the display in fascination as Clovis continued, back turned towards him.

"Your third mistake was indicating the contents were poison gas: The perfect target for terrorists to strike! Why not place a giant neon sign over it, begging for their attention? Discretion, Bartley! Offer them a distraction and smuggle the important goods separately from one another and discretely!"

"I can only apologise for my failure," Bartley said. "The police have been informed it is medical equipment, but if we send the military - "

"There will be a record," Clovis finished. The glass moved into his hand, and he tipped it towards his lips before setting it back down in mid-air where it stood in place. "Right now, I don't even care. Deploy the Royal Guards. And the Knightmares."

The Royal Guards and Knightmares? For such a small group?

"I will obey, of course," Bartley said. "But are you certain such measures are necessary?"

"Your fourth mistake," Clovis said. The bottle levitated back towards the table, while the glass followed shortly behind Clovis as he walked across the war room. "Your failure to imagine the magnitude of threat to Britannia should either the witch or the artefact fall into the wrong hands."

There was little more satisfying than watching an arrogant noble find himself humiliated, beaten and bested. With no recourse but to pay or face an even greater injury to their pride. No ability to claim that it was luck or cheating, no denial, no refuge to hide behind, nothing but their own inadequacies brought to light for all to see.

Not that Lelouch was a particularly petty person or anything. Far from it. Honestly.

"I was wondering," Rivalz said, not taking his eyes from the road as he drove his rather expensive motorbike down the road leading back to Ashford Academy. "That first move after you took over the game. You started with the King. Why was that?"

"A leader's job is to lead," Lelouch said. "If he can't do that, what's the point of having a leader at all?"

Rivalz looked for a moment as though he had a further statement beyond that, but it became rather less significantly important to both of them whatever it was. A reflexive reaction that could be blamed on either of them. The truck for driving too fast or Rivalz for failing to notice it - Either could be blamed quite easily. In the end it really didn't matter. It was the larger of the two vehicles that swerved off the road, crashing through the barricade and landing on the ground below with a tremendous ear rending screech and a sickening metallic thud. Rivalz screeched to a fault, and both boys looked at one another with the same expression belying the same thought neither worded aloud: "Did we cause that?"

It took only a few seconds for the vultures to swarm. Onlookers. Gawpers. People shocked at what had happened, without the presence of mind or empathy to think about lending a hand. "Look, is it an accident?" one person would rhetorically ask. At least Lelouch hoped it was rhetorical. "Probably a drunk driver. Serves him right for being so careless. Idiot."

People might have died down there, and they're too busy enjoying themselves speculating over what happened. Does it matter why it happened? No! All that matters is the end result: A vehicle has crashed and its occupants may be hurt, and these idiots weren't helping at all!

"Lelouch!" Rivalz yelled. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to check if anyone down there is hurt," Lelouch replied. Now, he knew rather well that he was not the most effective person at physical activities, but even he could manage something this simple. He was on top of the vehicle in a matter of moments, knocked on the ceiling and yelled "Hey, you alright in there?"

"Finally. I've found you…"

It was weird hearing a voice inside his head. Really, truly bizarre. He must have imagined it, yes, that made sense. There was a woman in there, probably hurt by the crash, so he crawled inside the vehicle to administer whatever help he could. It depended on what he found when he got in.

Which is when the vehicle's driver made clear their intention to be absolutely anywhere but right where they are right now. At the very least, they probably weren't hurt, but he should probably let them know he was in there so they could let him out.

His hand fell upon a bizarre looking pod, the sort of thing one imagines finding in a crashed alien spaceship. Lelouch wouldn't have thought anything of it, but that brief contact sent a chill through his body. This wasn't some mere container. It wasn't a capsule. It was something different. There was something inside there, calling to him. It was as if he was standing in front of his destiny, and all he had to do was reach out and-

Gunfire shook him free of this distraction. Bullets flying through the air as thick as rain, all aimed at this humble little truck. This rather shattered his plan of introducing himself: His survival chances would plummet straight to nothing! And the same was true with other option, which could end with a broken neck or a bullet riddled corpse. Perhaps even both? No, the best thing to do was sit in the darkness and pray not to be noticed. Stay silent. Stay still. Watch for an opportunity, be patient, and then move to flee.

It was his only chance to survive. Some good samaritan he turned out to be.

He was sitting alone in the dark corner of the room during the briefing. This was how it had been since he joined up. The other volunteers would laugh and crack jokes behind his back. You know the kind. That special kind of "behind your back" where they intend for you to hear every single word in context, with the meaning as transparent as glass. Aimed at him simply because of who his father was. That was how it had been every day of the training. Every day, they'd pull pranks ranging from the immature to actually technically impressive. How they'd gotten that much spoiled sour cream into his sock drawer, he'd still not puzzled through.

But through it all he persevered. He pushed forward through each new dawn of each new day. They couldn't touch him. Not the way they wanted to. He didn't react to any of it, beyond the necessary physical reactions. He didn't even defend himself if they ever attacked him, which they did on occasion. Trying to put the showoff in his place. Still. No emotional reaction, simply because-

No. That was wrong. He did react emotionally. But it wasn't what they wanted. It wasn't the fear or the hatred or "learning his place" or any of that nonsense. It was pity. Simply pity. In order to feel big and mighty they had no other recourse but to pick on those they thought were weaker than themselves. It hurt them worse than it hurt him every time he picked himself up, didn't report them, didn't complain, didn't do anything but what was expected of him by his superiors. They assumed he was in this for the same reasons they were: Personal glory, advancing their place in society, the quest for power prestige and cold hard cash.

His name was Suzaku Kururugi. And he was performing a different kind of infiltration mission than what people might expect. He would enter the system, and change it from within. Not for the worse, not to weaken it or bring it down. For the better. He would rise in the ranks based on his own skill and ability, then prove to those at the top that even if - even assuming - men were not created equal that it did not mean a Britannian was always better than a Japanese.

So for the time being, he listened to the briefing while surrounded by other Honorary Britannians. And what he heard made his heart ache.

"Obviously, we have no way of knowing what the terrorists intend to do with the poison gas," they were told. "There are far too many targets throughout the country to count. If they are able to escape with the gas, it's impossible to calculate how many will be killed. If we don't retrieve it today, their blood will be on our hands as surely as it is on theirs."

Killers. That's all they were. Couldn't they see? Couldn't they understand? Terrorism was not the answer. All it would do was give those they most hated the reason or excuse they needed. And in the process innocent people died. Innocent Britannians. Innocent Japanese. He had expected missions that might leave a sour taste in his mouth while climbing the ranks. This was something he would do without needing to be ordered. He would do it. Not happily. He'd do it with the kind of tremendous sadness and fury those bullies during training only wished they could raise from him.

They arrived in the Shinjuku area shortly after that - The briefing had been held in a special transport designed for the purpose of getting soldiers into a developing situation with full awareness and mission details. For example: The transport was last seen in this approximate area, but it was not currently known exactly where.

"Private Kururugi," his commanding officer said. "I want you to scout ahead. We'll come after you in about five minutes. Get moving."

"Yes sir," he said, an automatic reflex after the gruelling training. It didn't take him long to find the transport. It had crashed. Very nasty. A stray piece of masonry had landed on the driver's side. If someone was still in there, they were crushed. Either dead or dying. A shame. Now they would never stand trial for what they had done.

But there was a survivor. He was wearing dark clothes that complimented his hair. He was tall, but skinny and reaching up towards the container filled with gas. It was strange, but Suzaku felt this eerie sensation, as though he was almost looking upon something that should not be in this world. An unnatural entity kept from his sight by a simple metallic container…

"That's enough mindless murder!" he yelled, startling the terrorist.

"Wait, I'm not one of-"

Suzaku had heard and seen enough. He moved through the air in much the same manner that a salmon swam through a stream. The terrorist made a futile reflexive attempt at protecting themselves from the impact, but their reaction time wasn't even a tenth of his. Pinning him to the ground was child's play.

"Planning to use poison gas? Don't play dumb with me!"

It was startling how young this person was. So filled with hate and rage, so young. It showed in his eyes. Beyond that. It showed all over his face. It showed-

"I will destroy Britannia!"

"My god. Lelouch? Is that you?"

Somehow it made a twisted kind of sense. Seven years. Had it really been seven years? Lelouch vi Britannia and his sister Nunnally. The three of them had been inseparable for a brief time, before the invasion, before Japan was conquered. Then on that day it all changed and Suzaku saw something within Lelouch that he'd not seen before. He saw hatred. Raw hate. A fury that was being kept cold, only so that it could be warmed at a moment's notice. A young boy that hated the nation he was born in and all they represented. A young boy that had grown up. And now a former Prince had joined a terrorist faction devoted to kicking his family's Empire out of a country.

It had that strangely sick irony to it. If Britannia would permit Honorary Britannians into the military, then surely a so called resistance group would allow disgruntled Britannians among their ranks as well.

"Suzaku…" Lelouch said, the recognition striking him as hard as it had Suzaku. It might well be possible for them both to be knocked over by a feather by this point. "You became a Britannian soldier?"

And then something terrible happened. It was like an event from a nightmare. You only see the horror out of the corner of your eye, at least at first, but then it grows and grows until it has your entire attention. At that moment, that terrible moment that you can't ignore it you begin to realise the true nature of what you are perceiving. The implications. The after effects. The cost.

The capsule was opening. The capsule filled with deadly poison gas was coming open almost of its own accord. Like the very maws of hell itself.

It is quite a telling thing what he did next. Suzaku Kururugi had a gas mask, issued to the soldiers in case the capsule did happen to open. Some in Britannia may not like the Honorary Britannians but even the staunchest Purist would find it a little silly and impractical to send them into a situation like this without at least a gas mask. It would've been a trivial matter to slap it on his own face, return to his CO and report that the terrorists had opened the capsule rather than be captured. But no. Instead he tackled Lelouch to the ground and slapped it on his friend's face, knowing that he would now face an agonising death.

What's even more telling is that it didn't matter that he knew Lelouch personally. He would have done the same thing for absolutely anyone.

Except death did not come. That white billowing cloud held no immediately apparent noxious qualities and there was far too little of it to be held within that container. More to the point, now that he could see within it was possible for both boys to behold a young girl with green hair, dressed in a straightjacket. She looked at them with eyes full of hope and life. So alive. More alive than living.

And a few seconds after that, Suzaku saw that there was something else in the container next to her. An ornate bow and arrow that gave him a strange and stomach churning sense that it, too, was alive.

There's a rather well known saying about three kinds of lies. There are lies, damned lies, and statistics. When you get right down to it that last tends to be the case simply because people fundamentally do not understand statistics nearly as well as they think they do.

Flip an ordinary coin nine times in a row. It comes up tails each time and your typical person would expect it to come up heads the next time "because it's due". Except that no, it's not. Statistics don't work that way. Reality doesn't work that way. The next coin flip has an approximately fifty percent chance of coming down one side or the other. While it is certainly unlikely that anyone would ever fairly flip a coin ten times and end up with the same result each time, it can happen and none of those coin flips have any effect on the subsequent or preceding flips.

This is the main reason Lelouch wasn't attempting to calculate the statistical likelihood of encountering Suzaku Kururugi of all people at this place and at this time. Too many variables. Too many factors. Not to mention that it had already transpired, which means the chance of it happening is already 100% by simple definition. Of all the soldiers in the Royal Guard, of all the futile attempts by the Japanese resistance to nip at Britannia's heels for him to accidentally involve himself in. No other soldier would have believed his ridiculous story. Which would have meant either summary execution, or being carted off to a "trial". Where his and Nunnally's histories would be dredged up, sparing his life but robbing both of their freedom.

Strange though this turn of events may be, this girl was stranger still. Why was she being restrained within this capsule?

"I have to say Suzaku," Lelouch said, struggling with a particularly irritating knot. "I knew Britannia have been making huge strides in weapon development, but I didn't think even they would be able to make poison gas take the form of a young woman. Nobody would ever see it coming."

"This is hardly the time for sarcasm," Suzaku said, working on undoing the restraints on the other side. They'd done a thorough job, here. Tied her arms and legs together, then tied that to the bottom and sides of the capsule. Movement must have been impossible. "They told us it was poison gas in the briefing. I never expected this."

"I'll just go ahead and add that to the list of things neither of us were expecting today," Lelouch replied. "It's growing by the minute." Ugh. This particular knot was a fair bit tighter than it looked. He gave it a good yank, too frustrated to notice his surroundings and felt his arm scrape against something just as the knot - the last of them - gave way and set the poor woman free. Lelouch yelped at the unexpected stinging sensation and heard a clatter. The bow and arrow bounced out the capsule to the ground below.

The magnitude of what just happened would not strike him immediately. Life altering events of this scale rarely do.

"Are you hurt?" Suzaku asked.

"No, just scratched myself on that arrow, I think."

It was a funny thing. Whoever this green haired beauty was, her expression went through a complete shift. It was like watching a sandcastle get washed away in the tide. There was a peculiar sad hope in her expression before as they worked to untie her, but now he was left with a sense that the word "just" in his last sentence wasn't quite the right one to use.

She lunged for his arm and inspected the injury. Not much to it. It was the kind of cut that healed almost as fast as it happened. Not very deep, scarred quickly, stung like a bitch for hours to come. The woman's body language completed its metamorphosis, and then she shrugged.

"Oh well," she said. "See you around."

Just like that she began to walk away. Without saying another word, or even a simple "thanks" for letting her out. They didn't even learn her name.

"H-Hey, wait a minute!" Suzaku yelled, almost like he was remembering that he was technically on a mission to retrieve this woman. He broke into a run overtook the woman and barred her path. "I'm sorry, but I can't just let you leave. Please, just let us know why they were keeping you in that thing."

The woman didn't even stop. She kept on walking like Suzaku wasn't even there, and when he tried to touch her shoulder something very strange happened.

The two of them had been standing in the shadow of a building. For reasons beyond Lelouch's ability to understand at that time the shadows in the area vanished. It wasn't long. Like a flash of lightning, but it left an after image from its brilliance. Then the woman continued walking. At which point Suzaku crumpled to the ground like he'd been run over with a steamroller.

Lelouch was already moving before he was consciously thinking about what to do next. What just happened there? "Suzaku?" he said. How did it go again? Check his airways, make sure they're not blocked…

"Father…" Suzaku said. "You… But you're dead! I - I didn't mean to!"

A traitorous part of his mind whispered in his ear just then: Look on the bright side, Lelouch. At least now you know why she was restrained like that. Oh yes, that seemed rather obvious now. Here's hoping she didn't hurt anyone else.

"Hey, come on! Snap out of it! What did she do to you?"

Suzaku blinked a few times and thankfully it seemed as though he was coming back to his senses. "Lelouch?" he said. Suzaku shook his head, like someone had filled it with cotton and he was trying to get it out. "What - What just -"

The sound of scuffling feet drew his attention. Soldiers! Well, of course. That just made sense. Of course Suzaku wouldn't have been sent out alone. Of course he was part of a squad. Of course they had sent him out to scout the area. What would happen if they found him here? The same thing he'd figured out from before. They'd either arrest him or kill him, and either option amounted to the same thing. The life he'd been living would come to an end and his sister -

Suzaku stepped forward. Lelouch thrust out his hand and, praying he remembered the code they'd developed seven years previously. Lelouch sent him a signal that amounted to. "Stay quiet. Stay still."

One could almost see the mental arithmetic of the situation play through his head. Step out there, the soldiers would inevitably see them both. If they saw Lelouch...

"No sign of Private Kururugi," one of the soldiers said. "The only unusual thing we've found is some bow and arrow. Probably worth a bit if we sell it to a museum later on."

"Funny how some folk'll pay anything for a piece of junk like that," the commanding officer said. "Alright. You keep an eye on that, the rest of you check the area. Fan out."

There was nothing else for it. Suzaku was at least keeping quiet for his sake, but they both knew their chances were slim to none. Maybe - just maybe - if he kept pressed up against this wall and kept his head down low he could stay out of sight, but all it would take is for one of them to turn their head and -

And his phone rang. In that second his ringtone went from being his favourite song to his absolute dead last. Every soldier's head turned in his direction, one even stepping right in front of him as he fumbled with the off button.

"Find anything over there?"

"No sir," the soldier said. "I thought I heard it too, but there's no one here."

There's no one here. But that was impossible. Lelouch was standing right in front of him. Nobody that blind could get into the army in any nation, or at least they wouldn't be given a gun. It wasn't just that one soldier, though. None of them could see him. Suzaku was just as confused as he was, even signing the universal question code: "What just happened here?"

Lelouch shrugged. But something caught his eye. Something on the ground in front of him. Something that didn't make any sense at all, yet simultaneously felt like the answer to his most pressing questions.

Though he had shrugged, Lelouch's shadow didn't.

There isn't all that much challenge to what she was doing today, but that didn't mean she wasn't having a little fun. Really now. Stealing something so important to Prince Clovis with only outdated frames to support them? If they had a death wish there were surely better ways to go than "suicide by Britannia". Something which might cause a little less collateral damage perhaps. Less expensive in terms of lives lost, money and time spent. Dear me. It would take them years to get the money together to repair the damage, but then again some of it was probably there long before today.

Still! Jeremiah seemed to have their main fighter well in hand. He was far more than sufficient to deal with that suicidal fool in the Glasgow. Which left her with the slightly less fun task of retrieving the item, but who was to say she couldn't kill a few terrorists along the way?

Fate, apparently. She didn't find anyone before spotting the wrecked vehicle and the stolen capsule. She burst into the scene like an eagle grabbing lunch and quickly took in the scene while the Royal Guard present took the opportunity to regather whatever wits they had. Even when it's on your side the sudden appearance of a knightmare frame is an awe inspiring sight.

"Report," she called, carefully analysing the scene and not particularly caring for what she saw.

The CO saluted. "It is my displeasure to report that while we have recaptured the capsule, the terrorists were able to open it. There appears to be no trace of poison gas in the air."

"Of course there wasn't," she replied. "There was never poison gas in the capsule to begin with. But as far as you're concerned there might as well have been."

The CO blinked stupidly. "I don't understand."

"Orders from the Viceroy," Villetta replied. A swath of bullets efficiently cut them down to a man. "Anyone that's seen the contents without authorisation is to be killed," she said to absolutely nobody. A quick scan of the area with infrared revealed no additional heat signatures. "Like that bow and arrow you're holding, which I will now retrieve."

What was it that drove a woman like Villetta? Simply ambition. Advancement. She was inches away from the top at this point, as far up as she could ever climb. All it took was simple diligence, obeying orders and being just that damn good at her job. She was a Knight. For some people that might be enough. She wanted more than that. She wanted to be a Baroness, and this was important enough to Clovis that she might very well get that for personally turning it in.

A few quick taps on her console to lock it up, check her sidearm was loaded and she was ejecting shortly thereafter. Whoever could have guessed it would be this easy? All she had to do was walk over a few unfortunate soldiers that wandered into something above their grade, bend over, pick up something ancient and return it to home base. Done and dealt with.

Except that she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Something out of a horror movie, which might be a strange thing to think for someone that just cruelly gunned down several men without warning: Such a person should not be horrified so easily. It was an arm. Hovering in the air without an accompanying body. The sheer impossible horror of what she was seeing was enough to distract her from what was in the hand just long enough for the trigger finger to pull.

Her gun went flying and her hand felt white hot with pain. Villetta scowled, and concentrated on the arm. "Like hell I'm going to let you -"

The next bullet hit her leg mid step. The next she knew she was falling to the ground with a rock becoming an increasingly large part of her vision. The next thing she felt was a shock to the head and the next she saw was darkness.

Lelouch was trying desperately not to tremble as he approached the unconscious woman. Keep the gun straight. Keep it aimed at her in case she's faking it. A gentle nudge to the torso, rolled her over and my goodness a head injury on top of everything else? No need to kill her, then.

"Lelouch," Suzaku said. "You didn't need to shoot her! She couldn't see us either."

"She didn't need to shoot those soldiers," Lelouch said almost absently. He picked up the bow and arrow and studied it. "Interesting, isn't it? I wonder…"

"What are you doing? I don't under-"

"Stand? No. I don't either. But why would Clovis be so interested in this bow and arrow? Even he wouldn't get so obsessed over something just because it was well made." He stuck his hand into the Sutherland's shadow. Strange. He could see it but with a little effort, turn his perspective an imperceptible amount to the left and it was gone. Concentrate hard enough and he could see the veins, the bone, the muscle. Rather disgusting. Best not to linger too long on how the body actually functions.

"Lelouch, your arm! What - "

"I can turn it invisible, Suzaku! Incredible! Is this the power of the arrow? This must be why Clovis wants it so much!"

What else could he do with it? This power! A gift from fate! Perhaps even the means to advance a little quicker! He carefully placed the bow into the shadow, stepped back and smirked to himself. "Not just myself. Anything in a shadow, I can make invisible. With just a scratch… Do you really think it's a good idea to let Britannia have this kind of power? Can you imagine what they'd use it for?"

"No," Suzaku said. "But I can imagine what someone that hates Britannia might use it for. Espionage, sabotage, assassination-"

"I told you, didn't I? It's pure chance that I'm here - No, perhaps it was fate. If I hadn't been here, you would be dead. If you hadn't been here, I would have been killed by whichever soldier found me."

But it didn't appear as though Suzaku was listening to him. Instead he was kneeling next to the woman with torn strips of clothing, carefully tying around the wounds in her head and leg.

"Maybe she would have killed me," Suzaku said. "But that doesn't mean I'm just going to leave her here to bleed to death. Please, Lelouch! Let me return the bow! Maybe then this can stop."

"Did you forget about the girl?" Lelouch replied, scarcely believing what his friend was suggesting. "Did you forget they will kill you the second they see you with the arrow?"

"If that's what it takes to stop these people being killed, so be it. Maybe I can convince them to stop fighting if I return just that."

Suzaku very well might try to take this artefact with him, he could see it in his eyes. Normally there would be nothing he could do to stop this, but right now… Right now Suzaku couldn't even see the bow, and Lelouch had a few plans to stop him from grabbing it even if he did make the attempt.

"Don't be a fool! You're putting too much onto yourself. Do you really think that would end the fighting? Don't throw your life away for nothing! You can do so much more to help the world if you stay alive-"

"At what point does my life become more important than all these others? I can't turn my back on them, Lelouch! I won't do that!"

"And I won't allow anyone: Britannia or the terrorists, to use this bow to torment the weak!"

A whimper of pain interrupted the argument, and Lelouch saw the only chance this argument had of coming to anything resembling a reasonable end.

"You said you wouldn't leave her here to bleed to death. Do you really have time for this right now?"

If looks could kill there would be a hole in Lelouch's face. Suzaku wasn't trying to hide how unimpressed he was with this cowardly means of ending the discussion. But they were both so stubborn, both so certain they were right that they would probably argue until doomsday. Instead Suzaku carefully, so very delicately picked up that injured woman and began to walk off with a stride containing more purpose than distance.

"You should be able to escape this area with that new ability you have," Suzaku said. "Return home. Keep yourself safe."

"Why not carry her in the Sutherland? It would be safer and faster."

"Maybe. But she wouldn't leave it without locking the controls. Nor would she tell me the activation sequence even if she were conscious."

"Right. Stupid idea. Forget I said anything." Lelouch stepped into a nearby shadow, vanishing into it as though he had been painted jet black. He walked away, leaving the sound of footsteps echoing throughout the area…

Only to circle back into the empty square five minutes later, making a beeline for the Sutherland without any sign of Suzaku anywhere nearby.

"Don't worry so much Suzaku," he said, climbing into the cockpit with the keys jingling in his pocket. "I'll be sure to end this fight definitively." He turned to face his shadow, smiling as it waved at him. "Now, my friend. Since you saw the pilot activate security from within this cockpit, it seems that I have also been able to see it. I wonder what other abilities you allow me? But first things first! It's time for me to take my first step towards crushing Britannia underfoot! They won't stand a chance!"

[To Be Continued |\|]

Stand Stat Sheet

Painted Black

User: Lelouch

Stats

Destructive Power D

Speed A

Range C

Durability B

Precision A

Developmental Potential B

Abilities

Fade Away: Anything within a dark area(including a mostly black shadow) can be made completely invisible along the entire electromagnetic spectrum. Lelouch can decide how opaque he perceives an item affected by this power. By applying this secondary effect to himself, he is able to ensure that he is not blinded by turning himself invisible. Invisible items will still make sound and can still be felt. Any portion of them within a bright area will become visible again.