It was a bright and sunny day over the capital of the Holy Britannian Empire. This city's residents considered it the ultimate achievement of mankind, the beating heart and the brains of an Empire destined to rule the Earth. Through their hard work, their sacrifice, they would drag humanity under their leadership and rise.
Or, that's what they told the public at large. For the most part they were really looking for cheap labour, cheaper thrills, opportunities to show off over one another and gain power over other people. Most that lived here paid lip service to the idea that struggle bred success, for many of them only knew of struggle in an abstract sense. Nobility, selected for their fine breeding, had been bred past the point of needing to concern oneself with much more than cut-throat court politics. Let the lower classes worry about that.
Pendragon was a city of hypocrisy which sullied the name of King Arthur by association. It was corruption, it was pampered protection for the privileged elite. It was a technological marvel built in part off the backs of suffering the world over - though they would tell you it was because they had earned it.
It is the right of the winner to do as they will, so long as they keep winning. Protest any of the above, and that's the answer you will get. Try to argue further? Then try to argue with a half dozen Knightmares, all aiming at you with their in-built rifles and, if you look especially tough, their slash harkens. You see? Want to stop them? Then become strong enough to stop them.
Otherwise, what's the problem with them doing what they like? That is the nature of the world. Survival of the fittest taken and twisted into a motivation for personal gratification and demeaning others.
It trickles down throughout society, of course. Everyone likes to kick down, even if they pretend not to. That's the justification they have, you see: If I don't do it to them, they'd do it to me in a heartbeat! So they call conquered people Numbers, strip them of their culture and systematically break their spirit until they learn their place and, if they're especially lucky, they can get the rare opportunity to join their military and subject still other peoples to this same fate.
The cruelty is encouraged. It's for their own good, right? Get rid of the leeches, get rid of the hangers on, force them to become strong and then those strong will survive and become useful to the Empire. How cynical. How inhumane. This is the Holy Britannian Empire at its core, and such cruelty pours out from its capital city.
There is one thing we must never forget. It's easy to, in light of the atrocities both casual and gross that have been committed by Britannia all across the world. Let's explain by way of demonstration.
Imagine two boys on this bright and sunny day, a pair of friends who have known each other since they were little. Let us call them Daniel and Eugene. Since they could remember they have competed, in that friendly manner that young boys often do. They would race, they would learn numerous sports like football or high jumping, they would take up stamp collecting or bird watching then attempt to outdo each other with greater and more impressive feats.
On this day they were riding horseback in the garden at Daniel's family estate. Eugene is a little ahead, but Daniel is gaining fast.
"Come on Daniel!" Eugene laughs. "You've usually caught up by now. Is something wrong?"
"I'm conserving stamina by running in your headwind," Daniel replied cheekily. "Your horse will be more tired –"
Then it starts without warning. The horses stumble on the ground, but it won't do them any good. It's a little hard to describe how it seems from their point of view, but to put it in the simplest terms imaginable...
Left became down. Not perfectly left, mark you. A little bit forward as well. The point is that both boys and the horses they were riding were suddenly, inexplicably, tumbling left. The horses panic and whine to let their displeasure be known, while the boys scream in confusion and horror.
Eugene's horse strikes a tree, and very nearly crushed his leg in the process. Thinking quickly, he extracts himself from his stirrups and grabs a tree branch before the horse's weight carries it around the tree, continuing into its freefall.
He hears a cry of pain, and sees that Daniel has suffered a similar fate on another tree. His feet have come free from his stirrups already, but his landing was quite a bit more painful. Where Eugen had been fortunate to avoid his leg landing against the tree, Daniel was not. The horse is already slipping around the tree, and in a matter of seconds will likely drag Daniel with it.
It takes a monumental effort, but Eugen manages to pull himself along a branch, watching his rival intensely. He could easily leave it at that. He could easily focus on his own survival alone. Nobody could blame him. But still, he crawls across to the branch and grabs his friend's hand at the last possible moment before he tumbles into oblivion.
"Hold on Daniel! I have you!"
"Wh-What the hell is going on here?!" Daniel yells, dangling vertically in the air while being held by Eugene. He whimpers from the pain, but uses his other hand to grab onto the branch.
This is what we should remember about this city. It is full of terrible people. Make no mistake about that. In fact, Daniel's father was trapped against a wall in their mansion, and would have been impaled by a falling sword - except that he had deliberately pulled a servant in front of himself rather than take any other form of self defence.
But not everyone is like that. Not everyone in Pendragon is a monster. Like diamonds in the rough, there are a few who are innocent. Nunnally and Euphemia are oddities in such a society, but they are not unique gems by any means. Here there be monsters. Yet here there be innocents as well.
So, while it might be tempting to invite violence and tragedy upon this city it would be wise indeed to remember the words of a great man: An eye for an eye...
Chapter 87: Would Leave the World Blind
=Pucci=
It had been foolish to think that it would be so simple. To achieve the means to reach 'heaven' merely once could hardly be called enough to bring its gates wide open to all mankind. This was the conclusion he had come to, after all this time. Cast out into a new unfamiliar world. His Stand reduced back to its original state. No allies. No 'friends' to speak of - at first.
He had one major advantage, time he had to put in work to discover the means to accomplish heaven. He had to use Whitesnake to acquire Jotaro's memory of Dio's diary to find the time - this time he had a major head start. He already knew the steps. Enrico Pucci was already fully aware of what he had to do to climb up and open that gate.
But... Doing so rashly would be a fool's errand. This was a test. Gravity had laid out a test before him, and he knew that rushing in blindly to accomplish his goal would only bring him failure. From what angle? He didn't know, but that was what 'gravity' was telling him. It led him to unknowing allies. It led him to - of all people - Jonathan Joestar, and how could he resist the chance to become close with that person?
Dio's assessment of the man was as precise as could be. Formidable. Gentle. Yet possessed of a fiery passion that could burn down the world. He could see plainly how such a man could inspire future generations into opposing Dio.
Although, a correction - He meant his Dio. Of course. The man in this universe that called himself Dio Brando was a pale imitation. An elderly chancellor of a world spanning Empire? Not the Emperor himself? Whatever his plans, whatever his schemes, the Dio he knew would not be able to stand by and let such an Empire exist without moving to take control over it. Not covertly. Openly.
That had been made clear to Pucci very quickly on his arrival in this new world, but it was only through discussion with Jonathan that he learned the truth - the personal histories of both men had changed drastically. They had been sent on different fates that left them both lesser than they should have been. This Dio had not spent a hundred years at the bottom of the ocean in quiet contemplation. This Jonathan had not perished in a foolish last stand against his adopted brother.
Gravity had taken them in different directions, and Pucci was fascinated enough to stay his hand long enough to study the outcome. With Jonathan's defeat, Pucci had stepped up his own plans. It had not been easy. It had been nerve wracking, the thought of being uncovered at this vital stage. But... he had managed it. Somehow. He had obtained a bone from JOJO's remains. The vital ingredient he needed to set himself on the path to Heaven, for within that bone would be a fragment of The World.
From there, he had stepped out into the streets of Paris, and located a concealed prison containing Britannian spies they had acquired over the course of their 'venture'. The strength and weight of a sinner's soul is a concept well understood by many religions, so how fitting it was that they would open the path to Heaven.
The spies were sacrificed, and absorbed into JOJO's bone. What grew from this was a Green Baby, an entity that could only be described as a mutated newborn. In the original world, Pucci spoke the Fourteen Phrases that Dio had taught him - apparently nonsense phrases that his mother had spoken to him when he was an infant to keep him calm - and became the Green Baby's 'friend'. In this world, the bone the Green Baby had grown from had come from Jonathan, and not a body that Dio had taken control over.
Another reason for him to forestall his plans: He needed time to investigate and discover JOJO's 'fourteen words'. How terrible might it have been if he had reached this point, only to fail due to such a crucial oversight?
"Honour. Marathon. Canine. Bravery. Sword. Kinship. Trust. Oak tree. Truth. Cicada. Blessing. Embrace. Justice. Forgive."
Following this, the Green Baby merged with Whitesnake, which began to mutate into a new Stand: C-Moon! While this Stand developed Pucci had managed to hide himself inside the Siege Perilous, relying upon 'gravity' to keep himself out of sight. Why this place? Because in spite of the risks it would give him numerous advantages. Flight enabled Knightmares, and the power of the Siege Perilous would give him the ideal height when the time came.
There were other reasons as well but those two were paramount. Before C-Moon could evolve into its final form it required a certain gravitational force. For that reason, he was stepping through the ruins of this false Dio's palace with disdain on his face.
"Hold it right there! Who the hell are you?!" Some guards happened upon him. In search of intruders, apparently.
"I wonder about the first person who baked a cake," Pucci said, while raising his hands in the air. "How did they know that flour, sugar, butter and eggs would produce such a food when mixed? Did they chance upon the ratios? Or did they experiment tirelessly in search of something?"
"Hey, isn't this one of the –"
The guard did not finish his question, for C-Moon had descended upon the wretch, striking him in the stomach and quite literally spilling his guts all over the floor. The others watched in horror - and then met the same fate themselves before they knew what was happening.
The anticipation of getting too close to his goal, he barely even noticed as the guards spilled their guts on the floor. Not yet. But soon. C-Moon was only partly formed. That was a small taste of what its power was capable of. But soon. Very soon.
"Every beginning originated from gravity." Pucci said this as he felt it forming, finding himself at a hangar at a crucial moment. "Even this Earth began with gravity," he continued speaking, putting words to his thoughts to keep himself steady.
Alas, the Knightmares had already departed. It didn't matter. "Because of gravity this earth continues to revolve." He stepped out, heedless of the height, and planted his feet on the side of the craft. "On this earth, where am I headed?" Due to C-Moon's ability the gravity shifted underneath his feet, allowing him to stay upon its surface. "What is going to happen next...?"
He walked up the side of the Siege Perilous, taking in the location. Pendragon, was it? Gravity had led him here! Instead of the United States of America, there was this corrupted perversion of an Empire in its place! This was fine. This would work as a fine substitution!
"Gravity has brought me the tools! Gravity has brought me this knowledge! Gravity has brought me to this place! All that is left is the work. The final trial that lies before me!"
All he needed now was the height. Then he could find it on his own. The right place to evolve C-Moon into its true, final form!
"Within my body and spirit, gravity exists! And it must also exist at the end of it all!" Pucci triumphantly yelled, spreading his arms wide as if addressing the whole world, anticipating what lay ahead not for his own sake but that of humanity itself! This world was in greater need of 'heaven' than his own! That must be why he was led here, not only to act as a trial for himself but also to save these people from tyranny and wanton cruelty. Racism, imperialism, the system being so thoroughly corrupt that those in power barely bothered to hide it.
Around him, the flying Knightmares were having some difficulty in controlling their movement. It was plain to see, and quite fascinating as well. Helicopters or planes would have crashed, but the technology being used by these Knightmares must rely on different principles to stay in the air. The shift in gravity was obviously affecting the pilots, but perhaps not the instruments, due to the jerky yet careful movements from the pilots.
"Identify yourself!" A Knightmare had managed to hover over right above him. Or to the right. It depended on your point of view. To keep things simpler, he decided to think of it in terms of his own personal orientation. In which case, above. "You... Aren't you Enrico Pucci?"
"As a priest, I must often attend to the final rites of the dying," Pucci said to the pilot. "And so, I shall address yours." C-Moon struck the Knightmare's cockpit hatch with its fist, ejecting the fool to fall towards the city. "Yes, I am Enrico Pucci. Blessings be to God, for he has provided the means to reach for heaven."
Looking around he could see numerous Knightmares hovering through the sky. Many disoriented, others seeming steady. It would not take much for them to notice him, if they had not already. Which meant he had no time to speak of. Pucci grabbed onto a pole attached to the side of the Siege Perilous and used it to steady himself while he reoriented his feet towards the Knightmare in front of him - then let go and allowed gravity to do the rest.
Which only made sense. Gravity was on his side.
"What have you done?!"
Pucci looked up, and beheld a sight that should have terrified any mortal man: Galahad, with Excalibur drawn, bearing down quickly upon him. Add in the effect of Sir Bismarck screaming as he closes in, and it would leave anyone mortified beyond belief.
"Seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen..." Pucci counted off. C-Moon struck the cockpit's hatch as Pucci approached - and then it reversed itself back to normal. The metal was a bit twisted around the opening, but the internal electronics should be fine. The trouble was learning how to control this Knightmare to defend himself the most effectively.
C-Moon rushed out to confront this dangerous enemy, swinging its fists directly at Galahad's centre of mass - only for the large Knightmare to flow around it like water, making a hard beeline directly towards Pucci. Of course. If Jolyne had been able to avoid its fists, then a man as skilled as the Knight of One should have no trouble with it.
That is why his real target had not been Galahad in the first place. C-Moon had struck the side of the Siege Perilous, causing a large piece of metal to twist out from the side of the mighty craft, coming directly into Galahad's side - or it should have! But Galahad easily tore through it with Excalibur and continued onwards towards Pucci like a rampaging bull!
Which meant... He was using that power.
"Sir Bismark, I shall share your gift with the whole world."Pucci said, driving his Knightmare hard in reverse in a desperate attempt to put some distance between the two of them. To little avail: Galahad was still right on top of him, the towering Knightmare casting a shadow over him. "The gift of the future!"
=Diethard=
Do you remember when you were little, and it was Christmas morning? Do you remember sneaking downstairs? The anticipation, the thoughts going through your head as you look upon the presents gathered under the tree. What might it be? What fun will you have? With bated breath, you peel back the paper to gaze upon the treats inside - and discover wonders far beyond your imagination.
Every day for the better part of a year had been like Christmas morning for Diethard Reid. The discovery of the supernatural was more delicious to him than any wine, more satisfying than any feast. It felt like he was pulling back the curtain to reveal the true nature of the world, barely concealed and with all the polish stripped away.
So far, the Black Knights had proven the most effective at containing unruly supernatural elements. Be they Stand users or the undead, thir track record had shown modest success while the Britannian Empire had struggled to adapt. For all their advantages in tactics, technology and overall military strength it was proving utterly insufficient to contain a handful of people with unusual powers.
There was a time where Diethard would have tried to control events to raise the drama, but he'd long since lost interest in that. The way events were playing out was fascinating enough by itself that he had no need to construct a narrative. That's not to say he didn't have a role to play, of course.
Case in point. Two very familiar women were standing behind him, with a knife to his throat.
"Villetta, always a pleasure," Diethard said. "Knight of Nine. I don't believe we have met before."
He noted that the two women had, somehow, acquired a few uniforms. Quite impressive. They must have been carefully hiding this entire time, watching for guards whose attire would fit them. Or near enough fit them that they could pass. Then hid the bodies somewhere nobody would think to look. Running through the operation in his mind, all the little details they'd need to utilise to pull it off when they were already at high alert... Even considering their special abilities, it was quite a show of skill.
Perhaps Britannia wasn't quite as far out of it as he believed.
"If you're trying to find something, you've come to the wrong room," Diethard said, gesturing to the paintings adorning the wall. "Unless Knights of the Round have taken to pillaging and –"
The door opened. Another team entered the room. Without saying a word, Villetta and Nonette smartly slid to attention next to Diethard - though he could feel a knife pressed up against his back. Right over the kidneys.
"Sir, no sign of the intruders," one of them saluted. Diethard kept his mouth shut, just this one time. While the truth must be told, any good journalist knows, aha, discretion in when to tell it.
Now. It so happened that beforehand, they had established a little... shall we say, code phrase in case of such an event. If Diethard said it, the guards would know what was going on, and then they'd leave to inform others - so they could mount a plan to rescue him. It would be easy enough to slip in, make it sound natural. Like part of a command.
"Well they must be hiding somewhere," Diethard said. "Ensure the east wing perimeter is secure. Leave no corner unturned. I will be safe here, as you can see I'm already well protected from intruders."
He didn't say it though. Not out of fear for his own life. No, no. Don't be so foolish. The guards marched away to follow his instructions utterly oblivious to the fact the pair they were searching for were right here under their noses.
"You might want to start quickly," Diethard said. "If you're not here for the art, then you're here for me."
"Us? Here for a traitor?" Villetta whispered. "I should gut you on principle."
"We won't, though –" Nonette quietly sang. She ran her fingers through his hair, at once seeming coyish and threatening. Quite a remarkable balance, but then again the Knight of Nine did have a... reputation. "Everyone will be busily guarding all the little secrets you have gathered away, but why bother when we can simply interrogate one of you instead?"
This was why Diethard hadn't signalled the guards. The only reason. Not even fear for his own life had factored into the choice. That was the sort of man he was, so single minded in his pursuit of the truth that the fact he could easily die had simply not factored in at all. It had crossed his mind in the same manner that a person crossed from one room to the next, it barely registered.
Because a cardinal rule of reporting is to understand the power of questions: When you ask a question, you are telling the person on the other side of that question what you want to know. Whether you mean to or not. No matter how you phrase it, no matter how you try to hide it, your goals and your objectives will leak through the more questions you ask a person.
"You're aware of the F.L.E.I.J.A. detonation in Djibouti?" Nonette asked. "What does the United Federation of Nations know about it?"
"Only what is publicly known," Diethard smoothly replied. Then, out of nowhere, and to his great surprise... She slipped a disk into his jacket pocket.
"If that's true, then you should find this data... illuminating," Nonette said. Of course, it wasn't true. But Diethard had expected a followup question of some sort. Why the interest in Djibouti? "If you find something incriminating, send one of your little spies along to contact us."
"You mean to tell me that you broke into the local base of operations for the Empire's biggest enemy so you could hand over sensitive data?" Diethard asked. Oh dear, his head was starting to swim.
"That," Nonette mused. "And keep you wondering about what sort of things we might have found while we were snooping around. You'll likely waste days trying to sanitise everything - but do make sure you check that disk."
"One more thing," Villetta said all of a sudden. "Reid. I don't understand why you betrayed Britannia. You were in a good position with plenty of upward mobility, and you don't seem to have a Stand of your own. What did they promise you to get you on board?"
"What did they promise me?" Diethard chuckled. He couldn't help himself. Even though he was laughing so hard that if Villetta wasn't very careful, that knife would pierce his flesh, the question was simply too amusing, too naive. "As if I want a power of my own. That's not my role. I am here to document history unfolding. I am the lens through which the world will witness this moment in time. Nothing more, and nothing less. What need have I for a Stand? I have all the power I could ask for, standing where I am."
That seemed to mollify her. It was hard to tell because her already steely edged gaze had grown bright hot, but... Her knife was not pressing into his waistcoat quite so insistently. It seemed as though she understood his thinking, even if she did not agree with it.
Alternatively she recognised that the second she stabbed him, he'd scream quite loudly and then... well, it would not end in a favourable manner for them no matter how skilled they might be.
"Alright! That's us!" Nonette clapped. "Come on, Villetta. We've done everything we need to, we should leave before the guys outside the room come in and - "
"Apathy."
"-Or we could hang around, who gives a damn," Nonette finished. She sat on the floor and yawned, which felt like a really good idea all of a sudden. Oh hey, not that it mattered or anything but Kaname Ohgi was strolling into the room with a pair of handcuffs twirling around his fingers. "Oh hey there, fancy meeting you here," Nonette said, stifling a yawn. "What're those for?"
Ohgi sighed wearily, took a pin and stuck it into his leg, a technique he had developed to snap himself out of his own Geass effect. None of the three of them especially gave a damn as he slapped cuffs on the two intruders, and now he was approaching Diethard with the pin and -
"... Really now, mister Ohgi! After I'd barely avoided being stabbed?"
He shrugged, and tapped the disk in Diethard's pocket. Well. Now that the excitement was over with, he might as well see what the fuss was all about. Of course, when retrieving potentially sensitive data, even from a trusted spy, it is always in your best interest to ensure you make use of a 'clean' laptop.
"Hey by the way, do you think you and Villetta could hang out sometime?" Nonette casually called out while being led away by guards. "I think you would be good together! I want to see it happen!"
"I said it before! Stop trying to set me up with an enemy soldier in their own base!"
Ah. The effect of the Geass had worn off for them already? Probably the guards being a little too rough for them. Never mind. Diethard had a clean laptop to hand. He always made sure it was never connected to any network, and he scrubbed it clean every time he used it. Just to make sure. With Ohgi leaning over his shoulder, he opened its files wide and -
Well hello there. That was interesting.
"Details on the Djibouti detonation," Diethard said, answering Ohgi's questioning look. "From the Britannian perspective. It seems as though they're conducting their own investigation into what really happened there."
Naturally, Diethard had been a little loose with the truth before. He did know quite a bit more about what had happened. He'd seen the reports. So had Ohgi, actually - though most of it had likely gone over the man's head. Besides which, Diethard was a rather fast reader and -
Aha. There it is. Put that together with a few other details, and some things become a bit clearer. It fell in line with a few suspicions, some baseless conspiracies being bandied about. Britannia had bombed their own base with a superweapon to push the UNF into military conflict with Europe. A genuine, honest to goodness false flag attack.
Do you know how often false flags are asserted by conspiracy theorists? Because Diethard knew. Every single suspicious event or terrorist attack always has some crazed individual claiming, somewhere, that it was a false flag. He'd hear it all the time.
Do you know how many times it actually happens in reality? Damn near never - at least when you count the attempts that worked. It's too risky. You have to play your cards perfectly to get the desired outcome. Only a fool or a genius would dare even try it.
Which led Diethard to one likely conclusion given the evidence: Prince Schneizel. He fit the profile. He would have the resources, the means, and he had the opportunity to set something like this in motion.
Which meant...
"This should give us a more complete picture," Diethard said. "It will also dispel a few of those ridiculous conspiracy theories about that tragic event. There can be no question of it, a suicide attack by European forces. "
Ohgi nodded. The fool. Completely missing out, not reading between the lines. In spite of his power, he was far too... ordinary.
"I believe we'll be able to use this to get a better understanding of JOJO's motivation and goals," Diethard continued. "I'll take this to Lady Kaguya and the others - why don't you begin our interrogation of the new prisoners? I'll be with you shortly."
Shortly... by which he meant 'selectively editing the documents to exonerate the Prince'. Something like this was far too interesting and entertaining to let come out... yet. After all. Diethard Reid had all the power he needed, right where he was standing.
=Bismarck=
The very first thing that one must do in any form of combat is assess one's adversary. In a battle between supernatural powers, such a fact became even more vital. Through his Geass Bismarck had seen it clearly, in flashes of the future overlaying into echoes of unfolding events, what had happened when that enemy Stand had touched the Knightmare. He had borne witness to the attempted sneak attack using the side of the Siege Perilous.
The Stand was devastating - if you let it touch you. Bismarck had no intention whatsoever to let it get anywhere near doing so. Of greater concern to him was the other effect this Stand had demonstrated: The power to shift gravity. From the reports there was a distance limit to the effect, but that distance did still encompass at least a portion of Pendragon.
Furthermore, its ability to shift gravity was obviously having a devastating impact on the military presence around the capital city. Land based infantry and Knightmares stood no chance. Airborne was better, depending on the equipment used, but even Bismarck was finding it difficult to pilot effectively under these conditions.
Against such an enemy Bismarck had no need for honour. Not when the scale and scope of this effect was so thoroughly devastating. Indeed, some might even think that this was a rare situation where the truly honourable thing to do would be to cast aside your personal honour, and do anything in your power to put an end to it.
It seemed as though Pucci had found his Knightmare's slash harken trigger as he was about to fire it. Bismarck batted it aside, sliced through the cable for good measure and thrust forward with Excalibur, taking no chances in aiming for the cockpit.
"You'd give humanity a future?" Bismarck asked. He saw Excalibur strike the centre of mass. Compared to Kallen, the level of skill was obvious. Amateurish. "When you don't have one of your –"
What he saw next was inexplicable. Within the next few seconds he would halt his attack, merely slicing a hole through the front of the enemy Knightmare rather than destroy it. Why? There was no reason for him to -
The answer was - the cable! It had wrapped around Galahad's arm while the harken flew away from Pucci. An unexpected anchor at a vital moment yanking him away from the killing strike. When had he - Of course. Looking back he could see it plainly. The enemy's Stand had grabbed the harken and done something through the cable to twist it around in a way it would never normally twist. That long range Stand was a greater threat than he realised.
This wasn't merely a Knightmare battle, but also a Stand fight. With a foe of a different breed and calibre than Kallen Kozuki. Here, the Stand was by far the greater danger of the two. Especially when the user was cunning enough to attack in his blind spot, where Bismarck's Geass would grant no advantage. Which in turn meant that he knew something that he should not. Hardly surprising - Tarkus had been aware of it as well. It would have been strange if Pucci had not known.
"Knight of One, you will be my final test," Pucci said. "You and your Emperor wished to slay God - so he has sent you to me as a final obstacle!"
"The mightiest Knight in the Empire is no mere obstacle! Learn that, now!"
The delay caused by the sudden slash anchor wasn't much, but it was enough. Now C-Moon itself was making a beeline for Galahad, and this was where the sheer size of the Knightmare played against it. He couldn't finish Pucci off in the time it would take for C-Moon to tough Galahad. If he could, then he would have taken the shot even if it killed him.
"Many mere obstacles think themselves of a higher station," Pucci said. "I was mistaken: Your Geass only sees part of the future. It does not 'experience' it. That is the difference."
The Knightmare that Pucci had pilfered opened fire, so Bismarck used Excalibur to block the bullets while continuing to fly closer to Pucci, mindful of the Stand's position. It had flown past where he had been before, but was already changing directions. A long range Stand with such a deadly power -
A shot struck Galahad from an unexpected direction as he was closing in. Had some fool ignored his order - No! It was Kozuki!
"What do you think you're doing?!" he snapped, then a terrible realisation dawned on him. "Don't tell me, you're planning to let him wreck Pendragon?"
"Please, give me a little credit," Kallen said. "C-Moon was going for that dead weight around your arm."
Looking down, he could see what she meant. The position of C-Moon would have given it the chance to brush its hand against the cable once again. Pucci and his Stand had moved and attacked in a way intended to lure Bismarck into a position where the cable would change the way it was falling, and so land in C-Moon's path - then what? He'd change its gravity further, to wrap around Galahad?
"Glad to have you on board Kallen," Bismarck said. That was something he could salvage from today. The chance to not only fight against, but alongside Kallen Kozuki...? He felt honoured by the opportunity. If only the circumstances were different, if only the civilian casualties had not been so high. C-Moon was now drifting in the air next to Pucci, both of them slowly retreating, the priest wary and realising the danger he was in. "Let us put an end to this maniac before he causes any more damage!"
=Lelouch=
It was a little disconcerting how easy it was for them to get down here. Lelouch hadn't needed to use his Stand. Nunnally hadn't had to use her Geass. Suzaku hadn't even needed to break a sweat. He simply arrived, wound up saluted alongside himself and Nunnally - whose name, he learned on gentle enquiry, had been cleared on the Britannian side of things as "clearly under the influence of a flesh bud" - and then the three of them were let in.
At this point basic pattern recognition kicked in. When things were going that easily, that smoothly, and that much to his advantage it meant something was about to make a half decent attempt at kicking his teeth in. Developing a plan under these conditions was impossible. He'd been watching through the walls for any potential trap or enemy and seen nothing. What he needed most was information.
Information that the two with him, the two people he cared for the most in this world, were aware of. And keeping from him. The answer to the following question:
"Who is it we're going to meet?" Lelouch asked. Silence was his answer. "I think I should know the name of the one you're so eager to have me meet with."
"Lelouch," Nunnally said warningly. "You'll meet them soon. Please don't be impatient."
Not even letting the gender slip? Or did she mean that it was more than one person? Very well. He had not the heart to push his little sister any further - though he was struck once again by how mature she was becoming. Not the quiet and demure girl who relied on him so helplessly.
"And you as well, Suzaku?" Lelouch asked. "You seem apprehensive."
Suzaku didn't say anything. In its way, that spoke volumes as well. All business, no sign of the boy who wore his emotions on his sleeve and had no problem telling you what he thought of you. Not even a brisk 'you will see soon enough', which meant this matter was more serious than he first believed.
And then... they arrived. The structure itself was tall, wide, engraved with all manner of arcane looking symbols. Archaeology was not his field of expertise, but even he could tell at a glance that this was recently built and made to look ancient.
"You can leave," Suzaku told the guards. They hesitated. Suzaku stared at them. They - wisely - decided to leave the room. Not that it was an issue. If they had to, Nunnally could have made them. "Are you sure about this?" Suzaku asked. "There's a reason you haven't told him yet."
"The same reason you haven't," Nunnally added. "Who told you about it? Was it Gyro? He seemed pretty uncomfortable about..." She gestured at the thing in front of them. The replica of the bizarre ancient contraption at Kamine Island.
"How peculiar. It feels as though you're treating me like a porcelain doll," Lelouch said. "In case you have not noticed, I'm made of sterner stuff than you seem to believe. I shall not shatter in a stiff breeze."
"Good! I wouldn't want you to break that easily!"
That voice! From another entrance... striding in with such purpose you'd swear the floor beneath her feet was freshly motivated to improve its lot in the world. Her eyes bore down on him, giving the impression of looking down into an active volcano: Cornelia had arrived.
Before she could reach him another familiar figure intruded. Jeremiah Gottwald. He put himself in Cornelia's path and held her back, where most men would rather stick their arms directly into a vat of molten lava than do exactly that.
"Forgive me, your highness," Gottwald said. "This is not the time or place to pick a fight."
"That's right," Nunnally said. "Especially since you must have brought Sir Gottwald here for the same reason. Am I wrong, sister?"
How tense the air had suddenly become, even if most of it was because of the murderous stare Cornelia was directing at him. Staring into those hate filled eyes, there was only one thing that Lelouch could say in response.
"Hello Cornelia," he said. "No kind words for your long lost brother?"
Strangely, his provocation seemed to calm her more than agitate. "Trying to push me into further anger," she said, correctly observing his intention. "I see. They haven't told you everything yet, have they?"
Anything? Why, he was so in the dark, he could probably turn himself invisible at will. Really now, why was everyone playing so obtuse with him? Why were they not telling him what was going on? Why were they so insistent on showing it to him instead? At this stage, he could hardly disbelieve whatever it was.
"Your highness, please remain calm," Suzaku said. A little too calmly, as though his stomach had turned in knots. "Whatever issues you have with Lelouch, we can deal with those later."
Unless... unless it was so absurd, so patently and utterly bizarre that nobody in their right mind could possibly accept it without hard evidence right before their eyes. In essence, the act of not telling him was, in itself, a giant clue.
"You only say that because you don't know what he did," Cornelia spat. All fire, and fury, yet also contained and all the more dangerous for it. "Very well then. There are too many of you here to settle things today, but one day Lelouch... One day is all I'll need!"
His mind seized on that, it was a clue. Think of it in that light. Consider what you've learned. Consider what you know. There's a blank space in your information, but you have things that can go around it. If you put the pieces together, what fits in the blank space?
"I have to ask how you got here in the first place," Suzaku said. "While his Majesty has pardoned you as well, we had to use Lelouch's invisibility to hide from UNF patrols."
Then think about how that blank space answers the question: Who are they taking you to meet?
"Hrm? Something like that"? Cornelia said. "That sort of trick isn't very difficult when you have access to three Stand users."
Oh.
Oh.
Now he got it. Now he understood. Everything made sense if you put it in that context. Strike a few names off the list, think about where they are, and a certain name rises to the top of the list. The secrecy, the vagueness, the actions of a select few individuals suddenly made sense if you slotted that name into the blank space.
"Three Stand users...?" Nunnally asked. In answer to this Cornelia pulled out something flat from her pocket and held it aloft. "Oh, I see. You hid inside Take On Me!"
Though it did raise a further question. Why? Why would he do this? That person's motivations and goals as Lelouch understood them, they didn't make any sense when compared to these actions. He thought the missing piece was the 'who', but in the middle of that piece was another blank gap called 'why' that he couldn't grasp for the life of him.
It was a contradiction so severe he was concerned that he was wrong. But everything else fit too neatly for him to discard it. Lelouch stared at the Thought Elevator, the entrance to the World of C, and felt his stomach try to twist itself into a knot. If he was right, then this was the most portentous, fated meeting of his entire life.
"Quite right," Cornelia said. "You can come out now, my Knight!"
A few seconds after she said that, something struck Lelouch in the side of the head. It landed on his shoulder, so he reached for it and held it aloft between the tips of his index finger and thumb. A glove? Cornelia's glove, actually. Why had Cornelia tossed a glove at -
"Cornelia, don't!" Nunnally yelled, but Lelouch couldn't turn to look at her right now. Because right there, in front of him, something like a giant picture frame had appeared in thin air, and was growing in size and closer to him. Through it was something like a black and white stencil drawing of the other side, which mostly consisted of Jeremiah looking mortified and Cornelia seeming smug.
"It turns out that one day is sooner than I expected," Cornelia said. The frame consumed him - and the world shifted. "Of course. Ares Villa. Where else could it be?"
Information loaded itself into his head quite against his will - A Stand effect? Cornelia had pulled him in here for an 'honourable duel'? He was standing up at the top of a flight of stairs - the very same stairs he'd found... He could tell even though it was black and white. His mind conjured the colour all too vividly.
"Cornelia, this is not the time for this," Lelouch said. He backed away, while she crossed her arms and walked up towards him with pain promised in her eyes. She was blind to it, then! Blind to the fact that they had more important matters to deal with right now! "Whatever differences you have with me, surely they can wait until this is all resolved."
"No. I've been waiting far too long to get my hands on you," Cornelia said. "You have too much to account for. First thing's first. Let's discuss how dear Clovis died."
=Kallen=
One morning, without the slightest trace of warning, hell descended upon the shores of Japan. Instead of demons, devils or imps it was clad in steel, standing upright. Through their superior flexibility, rapid and precise movements Knightmare frames redefined the meaning of modern warfare in the span of a month. The proud nation of Japan buckled, and then bent its knee.
Nobody could blame them. The death toll was astronomical. Women, children, and non-combatants were slain alongside the soldiers. There were no graves for the dead, many bodies were left where they lay as Japan's people didn't have the time to properly deal with them when there were bullets, bombs, rockets and slash harkens descending upon them from what felt like every direction.
And Britannia? They didn't care. They were dead enemies. Why show them the slightest piece of respect?
...
Fast forward to today. Hell has descended upon Britannia's capital city. It takes the form of a Stand. A supernatural power which can affect gravity over a large area. Ah, area was not a good word for her to use. It had bad connotations.
"We're stuck in the middle of the Siege Perilous. If you need help it might take a while for us to get out of here."
"No, it's not safe. Gravity could change again any time. Stay safe. Sit tight for a few minutes," Kallen said into her phone. "Make sure you're somewhere secure. Maybe tie yourself to something in case gravity changes again. Keep anything sharp or heavy away from you in case it falls, or you fall onto it."
"Got it! Be careful out there, Kallen! Take down that enemy Stand, I know you can do it."
The call ended. Yeah. Kallen could take it down. She was pretty sure she was getting used to the weird gravity playing havoc with her sense of direction. Which was a hell of a lot more than the people down there. Civilians getting tipped over, falling to their deaths or having things fall on them.
The damage was done. She wouldn't lie. There was a sick, twisted part of her piping up and saying that now they had a taste of what it was like, maybe they wouldn't support doing it to others. It was asking her why she should help them, when they wouldn't do the same for her.
The answer was simple: Because it is the right thing to do.
"The Grouper and the Moray Eel are both top predators within coral reefs," Pucci said. "Yet sometimes they cooperate to track down a prey that neither could catch alone."
Kallen's eyes narrowed. She was an instinctive fighter. Reactive, aggressive. Like a wolf let lease from a chain. Yet even a hungry wolf will still assess its prey before sinking in its fangs, and she was no different. When she fought an enemy, if they lasted more than half a minute then she was paying them her fullest attention and trying to work out how they ticked.
Which is why she knew what Bismarck's likely move would be now that she had shown her willingness to remove this threat: The Knight of One was going to rush in without fear directly at Pucci, in an attempt to lure out that deadly Stand. The fool would lay his life on the line in service to his Emperor, trusting that Kallen could and would finish the job while the Stand was preoccupied!
Dorothea's words echoed through her mind: Kallen Kozuki is a hero who would save the world. Now she got it. It's because she couldn't bear to see this kind of sight. Even when it was Britannia. She could hate them and pity them at once.
Because it was the right thing to do.
"Face my fury, Enrico Pucci! It will be the last thing you ever see!"
Bismarck rushed in head one, while Kallen veered right. Er, down? It didn't really matter. The point was that she was arcing around at an angle that the enemy Stand couldn't guard with while still dealing with Galahad. This is the reason why nobody with a brain wants to fight more than one opponent at a time: The numbers game always catches up to you.
"While the eel searches through the cracks, the grouper waits by the entrance," Pucci continued. Galahad suddenly changed direction, and then seconds after that the cockpit from Pucci's pilfered Knightmare ejected. "Thus ensuring that one of them will feast! This is why they cooperate, as in the long term they will both benefit!"
"Gaaargh!" Bismarck suddenly yelped, as if in pain. Why? Kallen couldn't understand. That Stand was nowhere near Galahad, in fact it was much closer to the remains of that Knightmare. Which were now falling towards Galahad since the cockpit was behind it and -
While Kallen aimed her slash harken for the cockpit, C-Moon struck the outer shell of that Knightmare in the middle of its remaining mass. And then there was light. An explosion caused by the energy filler within that Knightmare suddenly, violently, being turned inside out.
Was there a better way to deal with two enemies who could see the future? Leave them both blinded. Unable to see. And... In this situation, unable to move. Their instincts would say the same thing - prevent C-Moon from striking them by dodging, quickly. However... their sense of location at this moment in time was dependent on two things. Their sense of sight was the first and that had been taken from them. The second was the feel of gravity on their bodies.
What if Pucci moved to a new position while they couldn't see, and the ground was not where they thought it was anymore? What if their desperate attempt to dodge sent them into each other? On the other hand what if C-Moon came in to attack them while they stayed still? Neither option was good.
Unless.
"Think fast!" Kallen yelled, and used Sympathy For the Devil to strike the exterior of the Guren, shifting perception back in time to the moment of the flash while she was still momentarily blinded by it. Thus protecting herself - and ensuring C-Moon would also be left unable to see. "I'm the bigger threat right now because I'm also a Stand user."
Her assumption was proved correct when her vision cleared, and in front of her was C-Moon rubbing its eyes with its forearms. Bismarck hadn't been idle either - Galahad's Blaze Luminous was up. Still, C-Moon was drifting backwards with little difficulty. It didn't have the same things to fear that they did about coming into contact with unseen dangers.
Although, speaking of unseen dangers, a new problem had arisen.
"Kallen! Did you see where Pucci went?" Bismarck asked.
"Not a clue," Kallen answered. "Maybe ask the couple hundred scattered flight enabled Knightmares in front of us bobbing around in the air like baby's first swimming lesson."
"... Tearing through them to find that errant priest would be a tremendous waste of time. Besides which, they will fight back against you and make things more complicated."
Maybe. Maybe they would. But it would sure as heck make her feel better!
=Schneizel=
If one were to ask the conquered Numbers for a caricature of a Britannian General, then Bartley Asprius was probably close to what they'd describe. Sweaty, baldy overweight, wearing a monocle to make himself seem more dignified than he truly was. To his credit he was now standing before Schneizel, apparently unconcerned.
"Your highness," he said. "All credit to your assistant for being able to find me."
"It became a lot easier after his Majesty announced the existence of the Geass Society," Kanon said. How humble of him. In truth, Kanon had performed his behind the scenes investigations admirably, and that fact was merely the final pin that allowed him to complete the puzzle.
"I see, is that what this is about?" Bartley calmly - far too calmly for a man like him - remarked. "If I can assist the Imperial Royal Family in any way, I will be happy to do so - although please bear in mind that there are a few topics that even you may not have clearance for. Under the Emperor's personal orders, you understand."
"I understand completely," Schneizel said. He had no interest in those topics anyway. "I had a few hypotheses of my own that required an expert's opinion."
Now he was starting to look a little worried. Had he perhaps been expecting to hide behind his Majesty's orders to keep silent on certain matters? How thoroughly disappointing. Schneizel had at least been hoping he had a better strategy in mind than that.
"When you place sodium in water, a strong reaction will result. Depending on the volumes, it can be quite explosive," Schneizel said. "However, what results at the end is something new. alkalic sodium hydroxide and hydrogen gas. The problem, if it can be called a problem, is that they react too strongly with one another.
"Which leads me to my question: Why do those who obtain a Geass and a Stand claim to bear witness to the face of God, and then keel over of a heart attack?"
Oh, oh dear. Now Bartley was starting to nervously mop his brow. The man must be terribly ill suited for a game of poker, his tells were far too obvious. His face might as well be a wide open book, his bluffs were as opaque as a window, and he might as well play with his hand turned to the other players.
"It's not that simple, your highness," Bartley said, then coughed into his hand in a blatant attempt to stall for time. "Thinking of those two types of ability as chemicals reacting with each other is an interesting metaphor –"
"But does it bear merit?" Schneizel patiently asked. Bartley shook his head. Not, 'I don't know'. Not even a moment to think on the matter. He immediately dismissed the possibility. Any of those reactions would have told Schneizel volumes. "Of course not. That would contradict too many data points. Would it not?"
"Mirai Kozuki did not see the 'face of God' until her daughter woke her up," Kanon said, reading from an already prepared list. "Mao was able to use Anubis effectively. Chancellor Brando had possession of both powers for some time."
"The second is likely down to the unique ability of Anubis. The last one could be explained if the 'effect' was moved from Dio into someone else," Schneizel leaned forward in his chair, his body language friendly and open. He did rather want Bartley to relax a little. "However, that contradicts the first example. With Mirai, it was delayed until she was in the present. You see the dilemma this causes, do you not?"
"Yes, your highness," Bartley mumbled. "A frustrating contradiction. It can't be only a 'one off' event, or it would not have affected Kozuki. On the other hand, the only way the Chancellor could have protected himself is if it was a one-off event."
"Unless Hey Jude was unintentionally shielding its user by hiding her mind within alternative realities," Schneizel mused, and before him Bartley turned white as a sheet. "I can tell from your expression that I'm on the right track. General, no trouble will come to you as a cause of this meeting, I can assure you. Please try to relax a little. Perhaps I could have Kanon brew some tea? He uses a special blend that calms the nerves tremendously. Or so I have been told."
"N-No, that will not be necessary, your highness! Your hypothesis is quite close to some of our theories on the matter –"
"Is that so? Even though I have yet to tell you my final hypothesis, you can already tell? That I believe there is no such thing as the Face of God. That it is not the result of something akin to a chemical reaction. More like, an immune response."
"Stands should not exist in this world," Schneizel continued, not waiting for Bartley to finish sputtering. "They are an aberration. An incursion from another reality entirely. The power called Geass attempts to reject the interloper when it is detected - and in the process, kills the one with the power. This is why the use of Stand power is painful in this place called the World of C. How close am I, Bartley?"
The General searched in vain for words to say, and so without saying a single one he gave Schneizel his answer. In the process marking it as the most erudite answer to any question that Schneizel had ever asked.
"What do you intend to do now, your highness?" Bartley asked. "You realise I must report this conversation –"
While the General spoke, Schneizel simply dropped the folder on the table in between them and stared the General directly in the eyes.
Another person in Schneizel's place might have asked 'do you recognise this folder?' at which point Bartley might have denied it, to which the hypothetical person in Schneizel's place might have responded 'oh really? Your name is on the folder. I thought you wrote it.'
Instead: "That will depend upon the veracity of this report," Schneizel said. "Can you verify its contents? Does it accurately represent the potential Stand ability of every significant figure on the world stage?"
Bartley meekly nodded.
"Can you prove it?" Kanon asked. "We must be careful. The slightest piece of misleading information could prove catastrophic."
"I-If it's evidence you want, I should be able to provide something. It will take a little time to prepare -Your highness, do you truly believe that there is a risk our enemies might...?"
"There is always a risk," Schneizel said. "Please hurry, General. Time is of the essence. I must have full confidence in this report. For the sake of the Empire, we need your cooperation.
The overweight man moved with greater speed than one might expect. Oh well then. Schneizel had his confirmation, and soon enough he would have his evidence to boot. Or not. It didn't really matter. Though he had a preferred route to victory, there were other paths that he could still yet take to obtain his goal.
"There is no 'face of God'," Schneizel said, satisfied that he had properly understood. "It is an auto-immune response between two wholly incompatible systems. Like an allergic reaction."
"I wonder how many people the Chancellor transferred the effect to, until it stopped?" Kanon pondered. "Forgive me, your highness. Such a question is hardly relevant. Those victims would be long since dead, and any investigation into their disappearance sealed shut."
"Think nothing of it Kanon," Schneizel said. "Idle pondering might lead one to unexpected epiphany at any time. I suppose you could say I was musing on a question of my own."
He stared at the folder. He stared into the future of mankind that Bartley - rightly, for his sort - feared so much. A bright future, full of hope and security. All according to the will of the people.
"What if God was one of us?"
=Pucci=
This was yet another challenge presented to him by God to test his resolve. Or perhaps it could be seen as the same challenge, escalated to still further heights. To have not only the might of Britannia's military at his back, but both the Knight of One and Red Queen in front of him..?
These two had been made much of within tactical discussion among the Paladins. The Knight of One, the Red Queen, both were considered among the greatest threats they would face, equal to Suzaku Kururugi or Li Xingke in terms of their threat level. After seeing a small taste of what they were capable of Enrico Pucci felt that concern was well warranted.
For the time being Pucci was content to hide within the cockpit of this Knightmare. Fumble around a little, pretend that the gravity is giving him trouble while C-Moon distracts them out there. Play for time. Run down their energy supply. Then he would be able to use his power to manipulate gravity to make this machine rise. It would not matter if it had no power, he could still freely move it. He had been patient so far. There was no need to rush. Time was on his side.
=Kallen=
It felt as if someone had planted a bomb in a school and warned Kallen it would be detonated if she didn't find a needle in a haystack, and by the way there's a rabid bear trying to maul you while you find it. And her without her magnet.
"Will you go away?!" Kallen screamed at the annoying Stand with the stupid long range and the stupidly dangerous ability to make you inside out with a glancing touch. The threat of which was doing more than the ability itself right now.
Pucci's plan was as clear as the open air: Use that threat to keep them off balance. Whenever they seemed to be in the process of triangulating Pucci's likely position by looking at the way the gravity was going, C-Moon would do something to distract them. Right now it was trying to attack the Guren, but a little earlier it had been aiming for one of the taller buildings on the outskirts of Pendragon. She didn't think the Stand could turn a whole building inside out, but why take the risk?
"Hey, order those other guys to land! They're just getting in the way!" Kallen yelled at the Knight of One. If she wasn't allowed to blast through them, the least they could do is get them to land.
"Under these conditions, landing would pose a grave risk to themselves and others," Bismarck said. Begrudgingly, Kallen had to admit that he had a point. This gravity trick wasn't just throwing off their sense of direction like she'd first thought, it actually was interfering with the flight enablers after all - though in what way she could only speculate. It might be that it was moving "relative to down". Or it might be something else entirely.
Either way, her piloting skills were being put to the test in a completely unbelievable way. It felt awkward. The pull on her body and the way the Guren was moving was changing from moment to moment with each new position. The only solace she had was that so long as Pucci didn't move he probably wouldn't hurt any other civilians by moving the affected area.
Unfortunately, Kallen's day wasn't going to take the easy way as she heard a voice she really didn't want to hear, broadcasting loudly over the battlefield where it was impossible for her to ignore.
=Pucci=
"Are you enjoying yourself, Enrico Pucci?"
There could be no mistaking the voice that he was hearing. A loud, booming, deep and rich voice that was well used to the act of public speaking. A voice that demanded, while instilling confidence or fear in the listener depending upon your allegiance. This was a voice with a presence of its own, that made certain you knew full well: You were listening to the Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire. Charles zi Britannia himself had deigned to pay him attention.
"Can you hear me?" Pucci asked. "But no, to answer your question. I do not enjoy this senseless destruction. On the other hand, bringing an arrogant Empire to its knees does have a certain piquant. Behold your works, ye mighty, and despair."
=Kallen=
"Couldn't resist the chance for a speech," Kallen complained. Oh yeah, this was exactly what they needed while trying to pin this pest down. Now the pest was trying to harass Bismarck - not hitting any marks either, but it wasn't as if Bismarck could do much to the Stand either. "Typical."
"You should give his Majesty more credit. He knows what he is doing."
The Knight of One opened fire with a barrage of Gleipnir Rounds at pretty close range - but C-Moon was a clever Stand. It had already grabbed hold of some debris to protect itself. Then when a second barrage came in, it turned that debris inside out so the dents and damage inflicted by the first would be reversed.
"What? You think this is the best time for a morale boost? I don't see Pucci as the sort to buckle because he's being talked down to by a pompous blowhard."
C-Moon had noticed Sympathy For The Devil coming in fast and held up its hands as if to dare her to try a strike. Go ahead, see what happens, you want your hand turned inside out? Or maybe your arm? Well how about this? How about instead, Kallen shifted your vision ten feet upwards? How do you like that?
"His Majesty is many things," Bismarck said. "A pompous blowhard is not one of them."
=Pucci=
"Your allegiance to JOJO is known to us," the Emperor said. "His ideals go against every principle the Holy Britannian Empire stands for."
"Really, your Majesty?" Pucci asked, knowing by now that the Emperor could not hear him. "But I do not follow his ideals! I would destroy the 'world of lies' and replace it with a 'world of truth'. All people, all over the world, will be fully aware of what 'destiny has in store'. This shall grant them an endless peace of mind. No need to lie. No need to deceive."
Yet The Emperor continued on, heedless of Pucci's critique.
=Kallen=
In its confusion C-Moon moved to cover its head and body with its hands to keep Kallen from attacking. That was the fun part, it hadn't worked out where she was coming from yet and that gave her enough of an advantage. All she had to do was look down and she could see her Stand just fine.
"Do you know how many of his speeches I had to sit through growing up?" Kallen asked. "I'm sure you liked them fine, but for me it was like nails on a chalkboard."
As she spoke, Sympathy For the Devil sent out its arms and legs to wrap around C-Moon's, taking great care not to touch the feet or hands. Then its neck stretched out and wrapped around its neck, letting her stretch the dangerous Stand's limbs out and give it a tight squeeze.
"So why don't you put me out of my misery, Knight of One! Hit us with your Blaze Luminous!"
=Pucci=
"The defining feature of humanity is its ability to traverse any struggle that falls within its path," Charles said. "That is the defining belief of the Holy Britannian Empire. Do you know why people struggle? Hope. It is hope for a better future that strives people to struggle! The chance, however slim, that they can improve life for themselves and for those whom they care for!"
Pucci chuckled. "The hollow promise of receiving an effervescent reward, made by a man who does not believe in it or the parasitism he has encouraged."
=Kallen=
That's right. Kallen Kozuki was about to throw her life away for the sake of saving some snotty Britannian civilians from a complete lunatic. They'd call her a terrorist if she gave them the chance, but no. Kallen was a freedom fighter. There's a bigger difference there than who's calling her that.
Whatever Pucci was up to, it couldn't be good. Going about with an ability like that without caring what happened to anyone else, yeah that's not someone you want sticking around. Besides, being stuck here outside Pendragon? Her life was forfeit already.
Bismarck began to rush in, just as Kallen thought - but then C-Moon showed a surprising amount of strength, and powered through Sympathy for the Devil's grip on its limbs, forcing her Stand's fists to collide with one another before she even knew what was happening. Almost as if the Stand had been waiting for that opportunity.
=Pucci=
Nice try, Kozuki... But this was one area where he could agree with the Emperor! Struggle had made him stronger! That might have worked on C-Moon before, but it was a tougher Stand this time around! Due to his experience, his insights... perhaps also his use of Jonathan's bone and a different set of fourteen words? No, it hardly mattered. That was the one area he could agree with the Emperor, for the rest of his view on reality...
"You would strip that hope away from everyone by chaining them to a future they cannot escape!" Charles bellowed. "Without that hope, there will be no struggle! Without that struggle, there shall be no progress! You will not create 'heaven', Enrico Pucci! You will not grant humanity a clarity of purpose! You will condemn them - not to living, but merely to accumulated experience!"
"... 3...5...7...11..." Pucci counted off. "Your cynicism about humanity's true ideal is staggering."
=Kallen=
An explosive pain tore through Kallen's arm, For a few seconds she couldn't see what exactly had happened, as her uncontrolled use of Sympathy's power had left her - and presumably C-Moon and Bismarck - completely in the dark.
Kallen didn't look at her arm, even though every instinct in her was telling her that she should look to see what the damage was. She really didn't want to do that. Through grit teeth and determination, she lifted up the right arm of her Stand, taking note that a section of the coil it was made up of was looped completely the wrong way.
Then she took a huge gamble and sent that fist flying right for Bismarck's cockpit.
Intangible, of course. It passed clean through Galahad, passed through the Knight of One - and struck C-Moon's fist before it could land a blow on Galahad's flight enabler. The inside out portion of the coil snapped painfully back into place. Turn something inside out twice over, and it goes back to normal. Right?
Well, no. Not quite right. It still hurts like hell. Kallen used her teeth to rip off a sleeve, and tied it tight around her arm. Thinking about the way that thing was fighting, there was only really one choice left open to them.
"We've got to find Pucci," she said. "Fighting the Stand isn't getting us anywhere. Even if we can predict what it will do, that won't do us any good against this kind of ability."
"Find Pucci?" Bismarck asked. "What did you think his Majesty was doing"?
What he's doing...? He was giving one of his lame speeches - Hold on. Wait a minute. The speech itself wasn't the important part! Kallen returned her attention to the legion of Knightmares trapped in the air unable to move without risking disaster. Could it be...? Could his plan be...?
=Pucci=
"Humanity is at its greatest when it looks fate in the eye, and spits in its face! Defiance against the odds! Tribulation and trials, climbing upwards to an impossible peak. You would rob this of humanity, and become a more terrible tyrant than any other in history, for you would rob people even of the hope of, one day, being free from the shackles you place around their necks."
"A tyrant accusing others of being a tyrant...?" Pucci wondered, finding amusement in the Emperor's blatant hypocrisy.
"For that reason, Enrico Pucci. Not only are you an enemy of Britannia. Not only are you an enemy of all humankind. You are a menace to all living, sentient beings! Now you face the wrath of our glorious Empire! All hail Britannia!"
Then a chorus rang out all around Pucci. In practised regimented unison the patriotic cry went out from all other Britannian Knightmares, as they pumped their fists in the air.
"All Hail Britannia! All Hail Britannia!"
Repeated over and over again. At first he thought it little more than patriotic twaddle, for Pucci's allegiance was not to any nation but to a man and his ideals. But then he realised precisely what his Majesty had done, the trap that had been set. He flicked on his comms, and attempted to join the cry -
"All Hail -"
=Kallen=
"Found you."
Pucci's Knightmare was raising its fists just like the rest, but too late, and too out of synch with the rest. Of course. The civilians of Britannia were indoctrinated in this manner to instil camaraderie and deepen their loyalty to the state. They were used to chanting in unison. While Pucci was not. A Stand like Sympathy for the Devil would have no difficulty at all in picking him out even if Pucci perfectly disguised his voice because he would be either silent or completely out of synch with the rest. He'd tried to hide in the crowd, but now he was sticking out like a sore thumb.
Of all the Knightmares he could have picked, Pucci had gone for the Vincent Commander Model. According to their intelligence reports, it was a specialised version of a mass production unit inspired by Lancleot. They were phasing out Gloucesters in favour of this, the last time she'd heard anything of it. Which meant that this unit was a bit higher spec than the others around it - not that it especially mattered given that the other pilots weren't able to safely move.
"All Hail Britannia!"
Not that this stopped a few of them near Pucci from trying to take pot shots at him. For the best really, as the priest was backing away hard from Kallen, and that forced him to take evasive manoeuvres. A shame their aim wasn't to its usual standard, but that was the trouble with fighting this Stand. It almost didn't matter how you attacked him, you'd wind up at least a little disoriented.
"Gravity is truly a mysterious thing," Pucci said, a touch of panic entering his voice. C-Moon lashed out and struck a Knightmare near Pucci with a flurry of blows, and then he moved so that it was in between him and Kallen. That Knightmare exploded violently into wires, cables, metallic debris - and an energy filler, which Kallen wasted no time in attacking with her slash harken. Not this time!
"It draws all things together, with those with smaller masses being drawn inexplicably towards things that are bigger. Yet the moon hangs still in the sky, and we are not pulled screaming into the sun."
Speaking of objects with bigger masses, it looks like he'd noticed Galahad coming in to cut him off from the rear. Why didn't Bismarck go for the direct attack? Easy - it would drive him closer to the city. Now Pucci was being forced to run in a different direction, they could herd him away from the population. Then corner him and finish him off.
"It is because of a balance between two forces," Pucci said. "The velocity they are travelling in a straight line, and the gravitational pull of the larger object. When these factors cancel each other out, an object can stay in orbit."
Once again, C-Moon attacked another Knightmare, turning it inside out and sending its debris flying at the Guren, then did the same with another to send its parts at Galahad. Please. After dodging Nunnally's little trick inside Take on Me, something like this was no problem at all!
"The midst of battle is no place for a physics lesson!" Bismarck yelled. Though he had probably picked up on the same thing Kallen had. Pucci's nerves were unravelling. He was the kind of person who talked to distract himself from the stress he was under.
"The act of continually falling, yet continually rising, has given rise to the 'satellite'. A vital piece of modern technology," Pucci said. "It enables easy and efficient global communication, television, mobile phones, the Internet - without satellites in orbit, these things would cease to function as they do today."
Pucci kept on flying away from them, making no effort at all to engage. One Knightmare got a bit too close. On any other day the pilot would have taken the priest to school, but today he got a Needle Blazer to the side of his cockpit, and the carcass of the Knightmare pushed out in between Pucci and the two of them. Energy like a Blaze Luminous shot out of the Vincent Commander's elbow, tearing through that cockpit like it was no big deal.
"So what would happen if a screw fell loose from a satellite in orbit?"
That's part of the problem with fighting this guy. So long as he can manipulate gravity, he could mess with you any number of ways by doing little more than changing direction. The sheer scale of equalising it was granting him was fairly large. They could close in on him. They could drive him away from the city. But it would still take longer to corner him than it would most opponents.
"It would rise, It would fall. It would pick up speed without wind resistance to slow it down, perhaps even exceeding terminal velocity."
It didn't help that he wouldn't shut up! Kallen took a shot at him, which hit the leg of Pucci's Knightmare. It was ejected, then struck by C-Moon, as the Knightmare continued flying in a weird arc. Trying not to fly in a straight line? Good luck dodging them forever like that.
"It would collide with satellites. Damaging them. Knocking loose more screws, more metal. More debris."
Bismarck was next making full use of Galahad's slash harkens from a single hand, while the other gripped Excalibur. In no time flat, Pucci's Knightmare was grabbed - but then C-Moon struck the sheaths for his Maser Vibration Swords, causing them to fly out and slice through the cables. Then, to Kallen's surprise, he made absolutely no effort to retrieve them.
Wait... Why would he discard his weapons like that when he was so pushed up against the wall?
"Each of which picks up speed. Each of which collides with a satellite. Each of which causes more and more damage. A chain reaction which knocks out the global network, leaving useless scraps of metal all around the planet!"
A chilling realisation caught Kallen, as even more debris shot by her. She'd been thinking this was too much, but after that explanation she grasped it in full. He wasn't trying to keep himself calm under pressure! He had the balls to outright tell them what he was doing!
"And so you can see how it could come to pass, that a single loose screw –"
A shower of fast moving debris whipped around her as Pucci moved erratically. Not in a perfect orbit around her, altering his course just enough on the horizontal and vertical axis to keep the debris coming in from all directions at once.
"Would leave the world blind."
"Show me something new next time," Kallen said. Yeah, as if this was a big problem for her. Maybe if she hadn't got herself stuck in Take On Me when Nunnally ordered it to grab her. A cloud of Knightmare pieces coming at her thick and fast? Try dodging an entire world after you at once!
That being said, dodging was pretty much all she could do right now. No Radiant Wave Surger. The trippy gravity throwing off her positioning and piloting. Also, this time around the debris was coming at her in a more chaotic manner instead of the predictable path that the Stand's intelligence had tried. Multiply those factors together and Pucci had her dancing in the palm of his hand yet again.
Bismarck, on the other hand... Now that was a whole other dance entirely.
Looking up, she could see him flying in from above Pucci with Excalibur drawn. He hadn't realised the flaw in the scheme, even though he had said it himself! The chain reaction he described would leave a layer of useless metal floating in orbit, causing more and more damage as time went on. It would leave the world blind - but without meaning to Pucci had left himself blind as well. He couldn't see that Bismarck had escaped this field of death and was coming in from above, because he was focused so much on Kallen and her Stand!
"No, it's too soon. If he dies here, then this universe will – "
Kallen shook her head, and - it was weird, but her vision had sort of shifted a bit. The monitors too. Had she used Sympathy for the Devil? Looking out through Sympathy she could still see Pucci and Bismarck, at the moment of impact. Excalibur sliced cleanly through... Pucci's flight enabler. The cockpit itself was completely unharmed.
"Kozuki, you –" Bismarck spat. He searched around himself, trying to orient his position. Behind him, Pucci's cockpit ejected, flying up into the sky. "You used your Stand at that crucial moment? Why? Don't tell me - were you actually trying to get as many Britannians killed as possible?"
"What? No, that wasn't –" Kallen began to protest, but had it? The debris was falling away from the Guren now that Pucci was going up and diagonally in a straight line. She could see him clearly. She could shoot him with her slash harken. Instead all she was doing was watching while Bismarck turned around to aim at the cockpit. He had Pucci dead to rights. He was closer, that was it. He was in the better position to put and end to -
The Guren's slash harken fired, barely missing Bismark but hitting C-Moon dead on. The Stand grabbed hold of the cable, and whipped it around, striking the side of Galahad, spoiling its aim.
"Then what are you doing, Kozuki? What possible reason could you have to interfere like this!?"
"Because when a Stand user dies, the effect of their Stand disappears!" Kallen said. "Wait... what does that have to do with anything?"
Everything.
Staring up in the sky, Kallen watched as something happened to C-Moon. The Stand seemed to be splitting apart at the seams. It was like watching a butterfly emerge from a cocoon.
This isn't just a fusion of two worlds. This world is an 'amalgamation' of two worlds. An amalgamation that exists because of Pucci's actions. He has accelerated time for both of our realities, and caused them to merge into one in the same move - though copies of both still exist out there in the multiverse.
"This is it!" Pucci yelled, triumphant to the point it was vulgar to hear. "Once again, I have reached it! I have created a path for humanity's ultimate, greatest fate!"
If Pucci died before this moment, this world would come apart at the seams.
A bright and dazzling light shone out from the sky above. At first all Kallen could see was the silhouette of a figure hovering in the sky. Her first thought was Pegasus, as it had legs like a horse, and a head just like a horse was jutting out. Then her second thought was a centaur, for it seemed to have the body of a human attached to it instead of riding it.
Now that he's remade this Stand, the effect is locked in place. All we have to do is kill him before he resets the universe. Then everyone will be safe.
When the light settled Kallen found herself looking at something spectacular. It was a mostly bright white Stand which looked like a fusion between man and horse, with the back end of the horse cut off. The rider was holding fast onto the reins, and had some form of feathery collar fluttering up behind its head. All in all, Kallen was left with the impression that she was looking at the absolutely most dangerous anything that she'd ever laid eyes on before, be it Stand, Requiem, Knightmare, vampire or any kind of weapon on Earth.
I'll grant you though... That might not be so easy as I made it sound.
=To Be Continued
Stand Stats
Made in Heaven
User: Pucci
Stats:
Destructive Power: B
Speed: Functionally infinite
Range: C
Durability: A
Precision: C
Developmental Potential: A
Abilities:
Taking My Ride With Destiny: The main ability of Made in Heaven is the power to accelerate time for inanimate objects, with the rate increasing as time passes. This means that clocks will run faster, objects will fall quicker, weather patterns will progress faster, and so forth. All living things will remain unaffected. The user may also slow this rate if they need to, until it reaches a normal passage of time.
Willing to Play My Part: The user is also able to move and think at speeds equivalent to the current rate of time passing for inanimate objects.
It Was All Meant To Be: Eventually, Made in Heaven will accelerate time until the end of the universe is reached - and then a new universe is created through a new Big Bang.
Living With Painful Memories: All living things will instinctively recall their own future.
Waiting For Possibilities: The user will also be able to predict this future perfectly, and will be the only person in this universe with the power to change it. Should any person have died before the universal reset, their souls shall not pass into the new universe - but a new version of them shall be created instead. Should the user die before returning time to the point they created Made in Heaven, the universe shall reset yet again into a random, unpredictable form.
Don't See Too Many Around: If the user creates a new universe, but loses Made in Heaven and then dies, the universe will end and be unable to reset. The only way to prevent this is if he reacquires Made in Heaven. Should he die after this point, the universe will not change form after his death.
