This enthralling fanfiction masterfully weaves together the rich tapestry of Mythology and the dynamic world of Code Geass, while also incorporating a diverse array of franchises. Prepare yourself for an extraordinary adventure that promises to be unlike anything you've experienced before!
The situation was far more complex than it initially appeared. The werewolves that had posed a significant threat were efficiently neutralized by a transport ship accompanied by ground troops. These forces arrived unexpectedly at the scene, seemingly intent on securing whatever the Liberation Front had managed to acquire. It appeared that even if the members of the Liberation Front truly believed they were dealing with poison gas, the reality was likely to be far more sinister. The Imperial military was notorious for its brutality, often resorting to extreme measures to conceal any information related to their operations.
From the roof of a large transport truck, a young man suddenly leaped down with purpose. He swiftly tackled Lelouch to the ground, a fierce accusation on his lips as he demanded surrender. He expressed outrage, charging Lelouch with an atrocious plan to endanger countless innocent lives through the release of supposed poison gas. The young man, Suzaku, had not strayed from the narrative of an anime they once watched in what felt like a distant life. "Suzaku, please cut it out," Lelouch retorted sharply. "You and I both know that this situation lacks any real poison gas, and we are all too aware of the lengths the Imperial military will go to hide the secrets contained in that cargo. This is all part of my idiot brother Clovis' ridiculous cover story."
Removing his mask, Suzaku fixed his gaze on Lelouch. "I'm fully aware of the facts, but I thought it wise to maintain the charade in case anyone else was eavesdropping. I presume this is CC? She certainly appears more striking than I recalled from the anime, but it makes sense; this is reality, not an animated creation." He continued with urgency, "Our allies will arrive shortly. I've received reports indicating the squad leader is approaching. You know your role in this situation unless you're willing to play out the tragic narrative of the anime and betray those people to a needless fate."
Lelouch shot a fierce glare at his friend, knowing that Suzaku understood his feelings well. "You should know I despise the notion of wasting human lives. However, my approach to my brother will be far less forgiving than that of the anime character. He will suffer for the pain he has inflicted on the families here." Suzaku was acutely aware of what Lelouch meant, and he found the idea abhorrent. The concept of manipulating someone's nature against their will was something he could never condone.
As the commander and his troops finally arrived at the site, they came in with an unwavering belief that the terrorists had poison gas. Their lack of questioning authority reflected either unquestioning obedience or a deep-seated fear of the chain of command. "Sir, it turns out the supposed poison gas in the container was nothing but a ruse. There is no gas threatening the area. It appears the lab orchestrated this trap solely to ensnare the terrorists. They also managed to take two Britannians hostage—this young woman and a student from the Britannian Academy."
The commander exhaled deeply, seemingly resigned to the chaos unfolding before him. "I just received instructions from the head researcher, who expressed a need for research materials. I suppose the remains of these werewolves will have to suffice. Tell me, if you would, your names?" He appeared considerably more composed compared to his anime counterpart, likely influenced by Suzaku's insistence that they were not mere Elevens. One of the hostages introduced himself as Lelouch Lamperouge, while the young woman beside him identified herself as Caroline Chase. The commander nodded in acknowledgment of their names.
"It makes perfect sense why those scoundrels would take the children of noble families as hostages," he commented, attempting to reassure them. "You are both safe now. Prince Clovis Li Britannia has ordered the capture of the terrorist responsible for this incident, and he will be pleased to know that no poison gas was involved. The prince genuinely cares for the welfare of the people he governs and would be horrified at the thought of innocent civilians being harmed." Lelouch listened carefully, knowing intuitively that the commander's words were laced with deceit. It was likely that he was only testing their loyalty to the Holy Britannian Empire, masking ulterior motives beneath a facade of concern.
As the troops and their commander turned their attention to Lelouch, an unexpected event unfolded that left them momentarily stunned. A brilliant light emanated from his form, and a peculiar symbol began to glow vividly in one of his eyes, captivating their interest and attention entirely. With a commanding presence, Lelouch declared, "By order of Lelouch Li Britannia, I command you to be my loyal soldiers for the rest of your lives. You will follow all my orders without question." His voice resonated with authority, creating an atmosphere charged with an unspoken promise of power and allegiance.
The commander, caught in the throes of manic laughter reminiscent of the wolves themselves when influenced by Lelouch's will, looked upon him with a mix of awe and newfound zeal. A wide smile spread across his face as he acknowledged Lelouch's command, expressing an enthusiastic willingness to serve, even going so far as to refer to him as "Your Majesty." This exchange marked a pivotal moment as the commander and his troops realized the depth of their loyalty and the force of Lelouch's influence over them.
With precision and clarity, Lelouch laid out his strategic directives. "You will pretend to be under the command of Clovis and the other officers and act as sleeper agents for me. You are to provide me with detailed reports on their troop movements and plans. Additionally, I require you to give explicit orders to those soldiers assigned to harm innocent people, instructing them to cease their actions immediately and instead assist the very civilians they were sent to eliminate. Am I clear?" His tone conveyed unwavering authority, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.
In response to Lelouch's firm commands, the soldiers snapped to attention, saluting with a newfound determination to fulfill his orders. They immediately set about executing their tasks with an urgency that demonstrated their commitment to his vision. The commander, fully embracing his altered fate, presented Lelouch with a small device that he had been wearing in his ear. It was evident that this compact tool functioned as a wireless communication device, facilitating rapid and discreet exchanges of information. This device would serve as the means through which Lelouch would stay informed about troop movements in the area, allowing him to orchestrate his plans with meticulous precision, further solidifying his control over the unfolding situation.
Lelouch's expression broke into a genuine smile as he regarded his friend, Suzaku. "At least you aren't seriously injured, Suzaku. All I ask is for you to take it easy. Focus on incapacitating only those members of the Liberation Front. You understand as well as I do that we will need them for future operations. Their cooperation will be crucial." Suzaku nodded in agreement, assuring Lelouch that he would do his best to comply with this request. However, he knew the situation was complicated; he had to ensure that it looked convincing. Once he took control of that experimental new unit, they would manage to survive, albeit with some scrapes and bruises along the way.
With their discussion concluded, the troops immediately responded to the orders given and moved out, leaving Lelouch and a young woman alone for a moment amidst the chaos of the unfolding battle. As they stood there, the unmistakable sound of an old, rusty Knightmare powering up reached their ears. The machine began to march forward with an obvious intent to engage, likely targeting the reinforcements that were deployed—most probably the royal guard unit. Lelouch recognized that this particular Knightmare would not stand a chance against the more advanced models being utilized by the Britannian forces.
Just then, a single Knightmare descended from above and landed nearby, its movements deliberate and commanding as it advanced toward them. The voice emanating from the cockpit was unmistakably that of a young woman, prompting a small smile to again appear on Lelouch's face.
"We are students from the Britannian Academy, taken hostage by the terrorists. I have my ID in my coat pocket," she stated, stepping out of the Knightmare. With a rope in hand and a gun aimed at Lelouch, she ordered him to stay put while she verified his identity. Seizing the opportunity, Lelouch employed his Geass ability without hesitation. He gave a firm command for her to stop and to hand over her weapon as well as her Knightmare. Almost instantaneously, she complied, surrendering her pistol, the key to her Knightmare, and revealing the activation code.
Grateful for her cooperation, Lelouch expressed his thanks and then turned his attention to C.C., who needed to board the Knightmare with him. Given that the machine was a one-seater, it required a bit of adjustment; C.C. would have to sit on his lap. This arrangement would be unconventional, but it was a small price to pay for their escape amid the chaos surrounding them.
After taking one of the walkie-talkies from the truck, he swiftly tuned into the frequency associated with his Knightmare communications. The chaos of the battlefield surrounded him as he began to hear the frantic voices of the people engaged in desperate combat against the relentless Britannian forces, particularly the formidable Knightmare units that loomed large in the fray. The urgency in their tones was palpable, underscoring the dire situation they all faced. With a firm and commanding voice, he cut through the noise, declaring, "Listen to me carefully and do exactly as I tell you. If you wish not only to survive this engagement but also to emerge victorious in this battle, you must follow my instructions to the letter."
At that moment, a young woman's voice broke through the static, filled with disbelief and indignation. She demanded to know who he was and how he managed to access their frequency. It was a fair question, fueled by the tension of the situation, but he responded with unyielding resolve, emphasizing, "It does not matter who I am. What matters is that all of you will meet your end unless you heed my guidance. Do you wish to perish here and leave this land shackled under the oppressive rule of Britannia? No? Then act on my commands. We do not have the luxury for debate; it is a matter of do or die—your choice."
The weight of his words hung in the air, but hesitation lingered. A man's voice emerged, tinged with skepticism, expressing doubts about the unknown advisor's intentions, questioning why they should trust someone whose name they did not even know. However, with the battle raging around them and the odds stacked bleakly against them, the need for survival took precedence. They reluctantly agreed to follow his lead, seeking any chance to survive the immediate chaos.
With a clear tactical mindset, Lelouch directed one of the Knightmares to maneuver towards the nearby railroad line. He instructed them to remain agile, evading enemy units, and when a train approached, to leap aboard and utilize the grappling wire against the enemy Knightmare. This audacious plan was designed to instill shock and confusion among the opposing troops. As the grappling wire efficiently ensnared the last standing Knightmare, its pilot, faced with the stark reality of imminent defeat, resolutely hit the eject button, opting for survival over destruction.
As she landed, she was met by her fellow liberation members, who stood in awe of her unexpected triumph over an opponent equipped with superior technology and numbers. In that moment of disbelief and celebration, Lelouch's communication channel crackled back to life, urging them to stay focused. "Take everything from that train. Everything within it is vital for your next battle and future operations."
His command galvanized the men, who hurried to open the train's compartments. Their eyes widened as they discovered dozens of inactive Knightmares, along with keys and an impressive stockpile of weapons and ammunition—enough to outfit every single Knightmare present for the fight ahead. Amidst the excitement, one particularly enthusiastic member blurted out, "Who the hell is this guy giving us orders?" The leader, looking at him with a knowing glance, reassured, "It doesn't matter who he is. What matters is that we'll survive as long as we follow his directions. It's clear he's not our enemy." This acknowledgment fostered a newfound unity among them, as they prepared to seize their chance at victory.
He meticulously monitored the signals emanating from the Friend and Foe Beacons, which lit up the radar display before him, reflecting the movements of each unit across the strategically detailed map of the current operational area. In his mind, these units were not just vehicles of combat; they were his chess pieces, reminiscent of countless matches he had played during his younger days. Each troop was assigned specific call signs that echoed the names of chess pieces, a decision that caused visible frustration for one particularly hyperactive and impulsive member of the unit, who found this approach to strategy amusing yet bewildering. With a calm and calculated demeanor, he began issuing detailed instructions that outlined precisely what actions to take, the tactical directions for their assaults, and the methodologies they should employ to engage the enemy. The clarity and precision of his commands stunned the troops, instilling a sense of confidence that perhaps defeating the Britannian forces would be less daunting than they had initially believed.
Meanwhile, Prince Clovis and the men under his command were grappling with a profound crisis of confidence and identity. They were disconcerted by the unsettling fact that their enemies had somehow acquired access to the latest model of Knightmares, and even more troubling was the realization that these units, seemingly piloted by an Eleven, were besting what were considered seasoned and skilled troops, leaving them feeling like vulnerable children robbed of their lunch money by ruthless bullies. "Who is leading this unit?" Clovis fumed internally. "This cannot possibly be an eleven. Their understanding of our operational patterns is far too sophisticated for that. To make matters worse, we are experiencing significant defeats without incurring a single casualty. It's as if their commander is intent on disabling our forces rather than outright destroying them. It feels like I'm engaged in a strategic duel with my older brother, yet somehow multiplied in intensity." Consumed by his frustration, Prince Clovis was oblivious to the head researcher who had just opened a communication line, his tone dripping with mockery as he remarked that it seemed they were struggling in their current predicament.
One of the generals, driven to the brink by the mounting pressure of the situation, shot a furious glare at the monitor and shouted that yes, they were indeed having a difficult time, urging the researcher to be more considerate and refrain from disrupting their critical thought processes. "If the struggle is this severe," the general continued, "don't you think this is the ideal moment to deploy the new experimental Knightmare? I assure you, Your Majesty, its performance will exceed your expectations and provide the edge we so desperately need in this battle."
Due to the fortunate circumstance of his absence of injuries, Suzaku successfully managed to return to the base camp of Prince Clovis, an achievement that unexpectedly caught the attention of the head researcher and his assistant. Their admiration for Suzaku's resilience was evident, and they promptly extended an extraordinary opportunity to him: the chance to become the test pilot for their new experimental unit. In a moment that felt surreal, they handed him the key along with the manual detailing the operation of this advanced machine.
Suzaku, taken aback by the offer, quickly protested, asserting his position as merely a conscripted foot soldier. He was acutely aware of the precedent; it was a rare occurrence for someone of his rank to be allowed to pilot a Knightmare without undergoing the formal process of being Knighted. His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and hesitation as he questioned the situation. "This isn't right," he exclaimed. "How can someone like me take control of a Knightmare?"
In response, the head researcher, exhibiting a flair for the dramatic, encouraged him, "View this as your chance to alter your destiny, young man. This is your singular opportunity to reshape your future. The real question lies in whether you possess the courage to seize it or if you will allow this moment to slip away." The weight of his words sank in, underscoring the significance of the moment Suzaku was facing.
Faced with no other viable options, particularly as he felt a deep obligation to assist his friend, Suzaku realized he had to accept the offer. As his hand closed around the key, a palpable shift occurred in the atmosphere. Both the head researcher and his assistant exchanged knowing smiles, recognizing the bravery of this young man rising to the occasion. "According to the records, you have successfully completed all the necessary training with outstanding results," the assistant, a young woman with glasses who radiated confidence, remarked to the head researcher. "I genuinely believe he will demonstrate to everyone just how impressive the Lancelot truly is."
The head researcher, while acknowledging her enthusiasm, maintained a focus on the facts and results, emphasizing that tangible outcomes would be the true measure of success. Nevertheless, he appreciated the assistant's ability to read people and recognized that her instincts might once again hold merit. This moment marked not just a turning point for Suzaku but also a testament to the potential lying within those who are often underestimated. The path ahead was uncertain, yet it brimmed with the promise of transformation.
The situation on the battlefield was deteriorating rapidly. The enemy forces, initially perceived as a formidable threat, were now caught off guard by tactics that defied traditional warfare. The generals found themselves in a state of confusion; they had no way to predict where the next strike would come from or what strategies the enemy might employ. At the heart of this unexpected chaos was the innovative Friend and Foe Signal device, designed to minimize casualties from friendly fire incidents. This device allowed the opposing forces to distinguish between their own units and the enemy, a crucial advantage in any combat scenario. However, for Lelouch, this tool served a dual purpose. While it aimed to reduce mistakes on the battlefield, it also provided him with a precise understanding of the positioning of all units engaged in the conflict. In fact, he found the situation to be almost effortless, recalling that he had faced more challenging competitions during chess matches with his older siblings.
Harnessing the information from the signal device, Lelouch directed his troops with remarkable accuracy, guiding them on the best paths to take and the most effective ways to strike. Despite his strategic brilliance, one of the commanders was becoming increasingly frustrated with the frequency and nature of the orders being issued. Nevertheless, Lelouch pressed on, understanding that the art of war required not just conventional tactics but also a level of psychological warfare. He cleverly manipulated the signal to create an illusion on the battlefield, making it seem as though their forces were clustering in a single location out of desperation. This ploy was designed to exploit the enemy's perception of panic, particularly when faced with such overwhelming numbers arrayed against them.
What the enemy did not realize was that this apparent vulnerability was, in fact, a carefully laid trap orchestrated by Lelouch. While the signal indicated the units' positions on the map, it did not reveal the vertical dimension of their location. His forces had taken refuge beneath an old, abandoned subway tunnel, hidden from view and protected from immediate assault. As the enemy units advanced, believing they were closing in on a disoriented foe, Lelouch issued a calculated order. His troops were instructed to target the support columns of the subway tunnel, then retreat as swiftly as possible. The moment the enemy forces moved into a precarious position, the carefully orchestrated plan came to fruition. The assault on the columns triggered a catastrophic collapse, sending debris cascading down from above. The Knightmares stationed on the surface were caught unaware, with the sudden collapse burying them deep beneath the rubble.
The chaotic scene that unfolded was a testament to Lelouch's masterful strategizing. Rather than facing the enemy head-on in a conventional confrontation, he had turned their own assumptions against them, leading to a staggering defeat for the Britannian forces. The battlefield, once marked by the clash of armored units and the thunderous sound of mechanized warfare, was now transformed into a scene of confusion and destruction, showcasing the brilliance of unconventional tactics wielded effectively by a formidable mind.
Recognizing that they were left with no viable options, the decision was made to authorize the deployment of the Lancelot. As the mechanisms whirred to life and the powerful machine was armed for combat, Suzaku took command of this formidable Knightmare unit. The moment he engaged its systems, he was launched into action with an astonishing speed that was almost beyond comprehension. It was a sensation that overwhelmed his senses, as if the very forces of gravity were pressing down on him, creating intense G-Forces that acted upon his body with an exhilarating force. He quickly engaged the enemy's units, moving with a blend of agility and precision, staying true to his word to Lelouch. His focus was clear: he aimed to disable or incapacitate the opponent's Knightmare units wherever possible, rather than simply destroy them outright.
Within mere minutes, the tide of the battle began to shift dramatically. The Liberation Forces, confronted with the sheer velocity and maneuverability of the Lancelot, descended into chaos. Cries of confusion and fear echoed across the battlefield as troops shouted about the unit's unnerving speed, claiming it seemed to evade their rounds of gunfire as if it were nigh invulnerable. Meanwhile, the lead researcher and his assistant observed the unfolding spectacle with unbridled enthusiasm. Their expressions radiated pure delight, reminiscent of children who had just discovered that Christmas had arrived earlier than expected. Their satisfaction was palpable, as they witnessed the fruit of their labor perform beyond their wildest expectations.
Meanwhile, Lelouch, understanding the psychological impact of the unfolding battle on the Liberation Forces, decided it was time to execute his strategic plan, his trump card that could shift the dynamics of the encounter. He carefully donned the uniform of a foot soldier, transforming his appearance to blend in seamlessly with the ranks. With a determined look, he approached the personal carrier where Prince Clovis was stationed. However, one of the soldiers noticed him and immediately ordered him to stop, cautioning that he had ventured too close to the prince's personal transport. In response, Lelouch removed his helmet, revealing his identity. The soldier, recognizing him instantly, snapped to a salute, acknowledging his authority.
Lelouch wasted no time as he asserted his command, instructing the soldier to relay to his comrades that he needed privacy to speak with Prince Clovis. He emphasized the importance of ensuring that no one would interrupt their crucial meeting. The soldier, understanding the gravity of the situation and the chain of command, agreed readily, offering his assistance to help Lelouch board the carrier with minimal resistance. This maneuver positioned Lelouch advantageously, ready to implement his plans while the chaos of the battlefield continued around them.
As he approached the command center, Clovis found himself alone, immersed in a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. He was grappling with the aftermath of a devastating defeat at the hands of the Elevens. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, overwhelmed by the weight of panic threatening to consume him, he suddenly heard a voice that sent chills down his spine. "What is the matter, Clovis? Don't tell me you forgot all about me! We used to spend countless hours playing chess together during those warm summer days at our villa."
Taken aback, Clovis could hardly believe his ears. He turned sharply toward the source of the voice, his eyes locking onto a shadowy figure clad in the uniform of a ground troop member. Fueled by indignation and a sense of superiority inherent to his royal status, he demanded, "Who the hell are you to speak to a member of the royal family in such a familiar manner? No filthy Eleven has the right to address me like that without facing dire consequences."
The figure stepped into the light, revealing a face that bore a striking resemblance to his own. "Who am I?" the man retorted, a mixture of amusement and sadness in his tone. "It appears you really have forgotten me, big brother. I am the eldest son of Queen Marie. Do you not remember all the joy we shared? I am Prince Lelouch Li Britannia, and I have returned home once again. So, tell me, why is this cold welcome? Shouldn't you be overjoyed to see me alive after all this time?"
Clovis took a moment to process the revelation. The shock that washed over him was palpable as he rushed forward, disbelief transforming into a torrent of emotion. He pulled Lelouch into a tight embrace, an instinctive reaction fueled by a flood of relief and joy. "But brother, if you are here leading troops, why are you acting against the principles of Britannian rule?" Clovis questioned, his voice tinged with concern.
Lelouch gazed back at him with intense seriousness, shaking his head slowly. "Brother, the way things are being executed in our empire only cultivates animosity and disloyalty. The rampant abuse and discrimination that the Elevens endure will breed nothing but resentment rather than loyalty or appreciation. I have returned with a mission to transform how Britannia operates, to make it a better place for all. In truth, I initially believed that I might have to resort to drastic measures against you to halt this senseless violence. But murdering my own brother is not something I desire. Instead, I present you with this pill. You often lamented your existence as a man; this pill will allow you to embrace your true self, and to live as the gender you have always felt aligned with. It's an opportunity for a fresh start. So, what do you say, sister? Will you join me in this endeavor to create a better world?"
Without hesitation, she accepted the pill, moved by the sincerity in his voice and the promise of change it represented. Clovis commanded an immediate halt to all hostile actions, declaring that the unjust treatment of the Elevens would cease. They would henceforth be regarded as equals within the Empire, deserving of the same rights and respect as any citizen.
She took the pill, a radiant smile spreading across her face. "Of course, I will help you, brother. Thank you for granting me my long-held secret wish. You truly have come as a knight in shining armor to save me from the shackles that confined me."
The moment Lelouch heard the unexpected voice, he turned to find C.C. standing there, radiating anger. Her expression was one of fury, and words seemed to fail her as she confronted him. Without hesitation, she reached for the gun holstered at her hip, her intentions clear—she was ready to unleash chaos. Lelouch quickly understood the gravity of the situation and positioned himself squarely between C.C. and Clovis, who was oblivious to the storm brewing around him.
"C.C., hold on. Just wait a second. I've figured out a strategy to make Clovis useful to us and ensure he won't be a threat anymore. I still need him alive; why do you have such an insatiable desire to kill him?" The urgency of his words hung in the air as he tried to break through her piercing glare, one that seemed to cut straight to the core of their shared past.
C.C.'s resentment was palpable as she locked eyes with Clovis, her gaze filled with a mix of contempt and pain. "You really want to know?" she shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. "You deserve this explanation, I suppose, especially since you freed me and promised to grant my one true desire. But never mind the fact that this man is your brother. If you want the truth, here it is: your father kidnapped me along with my two sisters and our mother. This man has exploited me as a lab rat for far longer than you can even comprehend. My life has been riddled with suffering and torment because of him. So excuse me if I want to exact some measure of revenge on the person who nearly destroyed me."
Lelouch listened to her, understanding the depth of her pain and the reasons behind her hatred for Clovis. However, he couldn't shake the realization that Clovis's death would mean losing vital information about their family, insights that could potentially unravel the truth about their mother and father's actions.
In a sudden surge of aggression, C.C. seized Clovis by the neck, displaying a fierce determination that left no room for doubt as to her intent. She wasted no time demanding to know the whereabouts of her sisters and mother. Clovis, feeling the grip tighten around his throat, registered genuine fear as he faced the barrel of her gun pointed directly at him.
"I honestly swear, I only managed to grasp you," he stammered, his voice strained. "Your sisters and mother are with my parents back in Britannia. I assure you they are being treated well. You might think I was heartless for my actions, but there's more to it. What I did enabled me to copy some aspects of your immortality. That research has led to significant advances in human longevity. You care for my little brother, don't you? Without my work, you wouldn't have the chance to be with him for much longer."
Despite his attempts at justification, C.C.'s anger remained unabated. She aimed the weapon squarely at Clovis's chest and uttered a chilling "Thank you" before pulling the trigger. The gunshot rang out, and Clovis collapsed lifelessly, a look of shock forever etched on his face.
"Now, thanks to you, I need to revive him," C.C. muttered through gritted teeth, frustration lacing his tone. "This is going to be a real hassle." The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air, further complicating their mission and underscoring the tangled web of loyalties and past grievances that surrounded them.
