And today we're all brothers
Tonight we're all friends
A moment of peace in a war that never ends
- "Christmas Truce" by Sabaton

Chapter LIV: Christmas in No Man's Land

Ostankino Tower
Moscow, State of Moskva, Eurasian Union
December 25, 2080 ATB

Standing at approximately five-hundred-forty meters from foundation to spire tip and possessing a floor area of fifteen thousand square meters, Ostankino Tower was a rather unique, if not visually appealing, structure, especially when one understood its history. Originally developed as a radio tower to replace the failing Stukhov Tower, itself having been constructed through the height of the Russian Civil War so long before, the structure that would become Ostankino Tower would eventually be modified into a television broadcast tower, which had long since become the primary media form in post-war Eurasia. Construction began in 2014 of the Imperial Calendar – or 170 of Eurasia's Revolutionary Calendar – and much in the way of resources, as scant as they were following the Soviet Union's defeat over a decade before, had been contributed to getting the tower literally off the ground. In fact, an entire temporary town had been established for the purpose, which would take the next eight years to complete, effectively terminating upon the would-be 50th anniversary of the October Revolution. Since then, the tower had been hailed as a great achievement for both Muscovite engineering and post-war Eastern Eurasia, with many seeing Ostankino Tower as a sign of a bright future. A future in which the Eurasian state of Moskva – late of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union – would progress beyond Stalin and the Red Terror into a new era of social and scientific advancement and all the perks and privileges afforded.

To Rakshata, however, Ostankino Tower was nothing less than the ugliest building in the world, nothing more and nothing less. Yes, the technology and engineering that went into the tower's construction and intended function had been impressive for its time, but that didn't make it any less an eyesore, especially when compared to the baroque and neoclassical architecture that had dominated Imperial Russia to its end. Indeed, the tower was little more than a soulless husk that, despite being built well after Stalin's reign, extended back to the bland colorlessness of that particular era. An era in which any and all forms of pre-revolutionary arts and sciences, or really anything considered "beautiful," were supposedly affront to the proletariat and subsequently discounted. The thought alone made Rakshata further appreciate what she and her Science Division were modifying the tower toward and how it would be utilized upon the hour of judgment.

Thank you, Nikolai Nikitin, wherever you ended up, Rakshata thought as she exhaled a lungful of smoke from her tobacco pipe, casually observing the rest of Moscow from the tower's deserted observation deck. As poor an architect as you clearly were, your creation will yet serve as your Rodina's salvation.

The sun was gently setting due west, and Christmas night was gradually settling in its place, resulting in most of the city lights activating one after the other. And though Rakshata could very much depict the adornments and decorations that had been placed throughout Moscow for the occasion, there was not a single presence she could detect moving about the streets or driving across the avenues. For all purposes, the city was completely deserted, its populace keeping to their homes and shelters for any and all celebrations, and it wasn't too hard to understand why.

That caused Rakshata to frown somewhat, knowing that, for many of these men, women, and children, this may very be the last Christmas they would ever get to celebrate. Unlike as it had been for those cities along the Volga, or Yekaterinburg and Krasnoyarsk before, there was nowhere left to run short of a perilous journey into Western Eurasia, itself fighting for its life against Hannes' forces. No, there would be no further retreat for any of them. Moscow was the final bastion, the last fortress in which the Russian people, assuming they still embraced the title, would stand against the tide that was Bloody Marry. Either they would survive and persevere against the onslaught to come, or they would perish in the last capital of the nigh-forgotten nation.

For a moment, Rakshata wondered if history truly was repeating itself there. Was it the same for those Muscovites as the European Army, led by Erwin Rommel, marched into the city during the waning days of the "Great Patriotic War?" Did any of them dare believe that there would be a tomorrow, especially as the Westerners were set upon avenging Berlin, Paris, Warsaw, Vienna, and so many other places that the Red Army had desecrated and burned to the ground? How had they reacted upon sight of those Tiger tanks moving into the city limits as the beleaguered defenders, with what number of T-34s they could still muster, readied themselves for the end? Would it be the same reaction upon seeing Sutherlands breach the outer defenses?

"P-12 to R-8, all objectives complete," Rakshata overheard one of her subordinates proclaim, effectively bringing her back to the present time. "We may return."

"Acknowledged," Rakshata responded before tapping her wristcom and engaging her link to Caer Sidi. One second later, a series of thunderclaps erupted through the tower as its occupants all literally vanished into thin air.

Black Knights mobile battleship Izumo
State of Moskva, Eurasian Union

"Acknowledged. K-1 out," Lelouch responded before terminating the commlink. Taking a moment to exhale, he then turned toward a certain part of the Devil's Den. "It's done. Operation Fuyukaze is set."

"Good to hear," Kallen called out from the closet area, having entered with a parcel just a little earlier. Lelouch could only wonder what she was dressing herself with in there. "This will make repelling Bloody Marry much easier than defending Moscow the conventional way."

"Assuming it all goes to plan, of course," Lelouch answered back, unable to keep from anticipating what Kallen would soon be wearing, though he managed to keep his tone neutral. Or so he hoped. "You never know when the Lancelot will come out of nowhere to ruin everything…"

"Somehow, I don't think Suzaku will be anywhere near Moscow," Kallen retorted somewhat pointedly, as though the mere mention of Lelouch's nemesis threatened to ruin the festivities that were about to take place. "Besides, isn't he tied up somewhere in France right about now?"

"More likely he's back in Britannia for the season, but I understand what you mean," Lelouch stated, managing to withhold a frown at the thought of Suzaku and the others. It all seemed so long ago now, even though it hadn't even been a full year since Pendragon. "Even so, we can never dismiss the possibility. Even I can only foresee and anticipate so much…"

"Which is part of the reason you have me beside you," Kallen countered as she at last emerged into the open, immediately causing Lelouch's jaw to drop. Much to her own smiling appreciation. "To foresee and anticipate the things you may have missed," she finished with, her Geass flaring active momentarily.

Not even the latter activation dissuaded Lelouch from his amazement toward what Kallen was now adorned with. No, it wasn't a "sexy Santa" outfit or some new kind of lingerie as he had hoped, but it was still something that held great effect over him. "How did you get that?"

Kallen could only chuckle as she ran a hand over her restored Ashford Academy uniform. "It took a bit of time since I was only able to provide photographs for source material, but the same tailor that produced your uniform managed to do an impeccable job."

"I'll say," Lelouch could only resound, unable to keep from looking Kallen up and down. From the green and gold embroidered tie to the white thigh-high socks and leather shoes, he really felt as though he were looking at the Kallen Stadtfeld from eight years ago. Her greater height and more expanded chest area notwithstanding. "I don't suppose…"

"That I'll be wearing this on the off-hours like you do?" Kallen gestured toward Lelouch's own Ashford uniform, which he had indeed continuously worn outside of being Zero since his liberation from Pendragon. "That's the general idea, my liege. Especially if we are to spend more of our free time together this coming year."

With that, Kallen moved toward the couch and took her place at Lelouch's side, the latter wrapping an arm around her waist as she settled into him. It was very clear that neither of them, despite all the celebrations that were happening across the Izumo at the moment, did not want to be anywhere else at that time. Nor be around anyone else, for that matter.

"Merry Christmas, Kallen," Lelouch spoke in a near whisper.

"Merry Christmas, Lelouch," Kallen recited with a smile.

It was still relatively early into the evening, but Christmas of 2080 remained in full swing within the Izumo, to say nothing of the other Black Knight ships and forces in that part of Eurasia. With the better part of the year, and its various events and battlefields, behind them and Moscow not being too far off into the new year, if not before, now was the time to celebrate Christ's birth in all earnest. Thus did the Order of the Black Knights, or at least those aboard the Izumo, drink and be merry. Both because no one knew what tomorrow would truly bring and for the chance to celebrate life, as well as the coming of the Messiah, in grand completion.

"Ye-aahh! Merr-ry Chrisst-mas ta all…" Tamaki managed to slur out through his obvious drunkenness, the rest of the Black Knights doing well to keep away from his breath. "…and ta aalll a gooooo…."

With that, Major Shinichiro Tamaki, commander of the 3rd Knightmare Squadron "Hebi" and self-proclaimed nakama to Zero himself, collapsed to the floor and subsequently began to snore. Sighing as Naomi motioned for two junior members of Hebi Squadron to return their unconscious commander to his quarters, Kento could only raise his glass once more to those remaining.

"…a good night," he finished for Tamaki, who he at least gave credit for not hitting on Naomi or himself this time. "With many more to hopefully follow in 2081."

"Cheers!" came the recital, with each of the Black Knights taking a swig from their respective cups and mugs.

"Hopefully indeed," Minami proclaimed upon lowering his awamori glass back down, musing openly. "Preferably a result of the war winding down."

"I'll drink to that, Yoshitaka," Naomi nodded as she raised her glass in acknowledgment. "With any luck, our liberating the Far East will go a long way to that accomplishment."

"Heh, if only Bloody Marry was the worst of them," Asahina chided, as though having to remind everyone there were other Britannian princes and princesses to deal with. More than a few having as much disdain for human life as Marrybell. "It'll certainly make life easier for us, though, much as China did before. Maybe even cause the Eurasians to lighten up a bit."

"Doubtful with a guy like Kessler running them," Urabe commented around his own drink. It was a bit of an awkward subject to converse on, but at least it was something that did not involve where General Tohdoh and Chiba were at that time. Even now, an entire month since the Volga, the loss of Senba weighed heavily. "Thank god they still haven't figured out Yomi. Otherwise, the Britannians would be the least of our problems."

"Please don't jinx it, Kotetsu," Kento responded, a shiver running down his spine at the idea of anyone learning of Ryukyu. He did not want to think about how his daughters would fare in that scenario.

Understanding in full, Naomi quietly reached and grasped her husband's hand in reassurance. "I think the Eurasians and the Britannians have more than enough to deal with at the moment. Just like us."

"Indeed," Urabe agreed, unable to keep from smirking at the thought. "At the very least, however, our side of the load will be lightened considerably soon enough."

"Sure, but win or lose, Kotetsu?" Asahina pointed out as though he had to remind him.

Urabe gave an obvious glance to his fellow Holy Sword. "Win, of course, Shogo," he said, taking another swig before continuing. "We've come too far now for anything else, and frankly, we've fought too much for anything else."

"That much we can all agree on," Kento nodded in acknowledgment. "I just wish I could share your apparent certainty on the outcome."

Urabe laughed a little at that. "Alright, so we're not set for a guaranteed victory in Moscow, but victory we're set toward all the same. We only need fight for it."

"How do you figure that?" Naomi inquired, now very much curious. "Bloody Marry is set to overrun the city, and we have our backs against the wall even more than we did for the Red Rebellion."

Urabe turned his grin toward her. "And it is in such battles that we are most likely to triumph," he coolly noted before taking yet another drink. "Short of the Lancelot showing up, of course."

Kento opened his mouth to respond to that, but Urabe spoke first. "Haven't you all noticed after all this time?" he posited to his comrades. "It's when the stakes are the highest that we humble Black Knights tend to win. When we really stick it to the Britannians and shift the conflict at large, much like it was at Shinjuku or Narita."

"The first being a near loss and the second being an abrupt withdrawal," Asahina reminded.

"Granted, but things are much different now, as we have far more going for us than a smattering of Burais and the Guren," Urabe again stated coolly. "Everything, including our own messiah's latest miracle, is in place for us to win. Once more, we only need fight for it."

As the rest began to catch onto those facts, Urabe took another drink before proclaiming. "And that includes the timing of it all," he said, once more raising his glass. "After all, what better time than Christmas for miracles to occur?"

"Sounds like Santa really came through for you both," Chigusa spoke into the SOUND ONLY commlink back to Naha, unable to keep from smiling at her son and daughter having had a great Christmas. Though technically Ryukyu was six hours ahead of Moskva, which meant that it was well past midnight in the Republic, both Naoto and Naoko were clearly eager to speak to their mother and father again. "Which means you've been good children through the year."

"Yes!" the twins both proclaimed in their usual simultaneous fashion. "Even Miss Rumiko said we were good," Naoko couldn't help but add in as well.

"Have Mom and Dad been good too?" Naoto inquired, actually sounding stern in his questioning. That earned a laugh from both Mister and Misses Ohgi, if only at their son's daringness.

"Well, we like to think so," Ohgi responded with mock nervousness. "We'll see if Santa left us anything once we come back home."

"Which we hope to be soon," Chigusa added, not having to see her children's faces to know that they both brightened again simultaneously. "There are just one or two more things to take care of before."

A small pause then entered as the twins reflected on that. "Will Uncle Jerry come back home too?"

Now it was "Uncle Jerry's" turn to laugh. "But of course," Jeremiah answered from the side, both amused and heartened by the question as well as his apparent third name next to Orange. He had only met Naoto and Naoko Ohgi once, a little before the assault on Krasnoyarsk, but that didn't stop the twins from affectionately taking to him as their uncle. "Your mother would never forgive me otherwise."

"Especially for disappointing his nephew and niece," Chigusa stated firmly, as though admonishing her comrade and former superior for the thought alone.

Another short pause before Naoko asked the next question. "Are you going to fight again?"

Naturally, that caused some hesitation among the adults before Ohgi solemnly replied. "Yes, unfortunately."

"Why?" Naoto followed up. Both Ohgis realized it was the first time the twins had questioned them on the subject.

Jeremiah stepped in for them. "Because there are still bad guys out there, and they will not stop until someone fights them," he explained, simplifying it as best as he could.

"The Britannians?" Naoko asked.

"Yes," Ohgi answered once more solemnly. "There are a lot of bad guys that didn't make Santa's list, and we have to stop them before they hurt others."

Another short pause as the twins considered. "Are there any good guys in Britannia?"

That one also took the Ohgis back, though Chigusa was quicker to answer. "There are many good guys in Britannia, as well as good children like you two," she knew that would affirm them despite the despondency of their question. "The problem is the bad guys are in charge of Britannia, and part of the reason we're fighting them is so that they can't hurt the good guys there too."

Again, without any of the three adults seeing it, they knew the children nodded in understanding. "Is the fighting almost over?" came Naoko's next question.

"Heh," all three soldiers espoused without the communique picking up on it. "Almost, at least where we are," Chigusa assured, without mentioning for better or worse. "And when it's finally over, we'll come straight home to you both."

One more pause before the next exclamation. "We miss you," the twins spoke as one again, this time with more than a fair share of emotion. Even Jeremiah couldn't keep his stomach clenching over that.

"We miss you too," Ohgi responded, both he and Chigusa managing to hold back their tears. "Just wait a little bit longer. Mommy and Daddy will be back in no time."

The twins both nodded at this from their end as Rumiko stepped back in. "We best get back to bed now. Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Jerry have a lot ahead of them, and so do you," the housekeeper spoke lightly and understandingly. "Say Sayonara and Merry Christmas."

"Sayonara and Merry Christmas," the twins spoke simultaneously again, their tone one of reluctance but understanding toward the separation. "We love you."

Now, it was Chigusa and Ohgi's turn to speak simultaneously. "We love you too," they both said in exactly the same tone. "Take care," Chigusa finished with, before the communique was ended.

"Alfred?" Charmelle called out before ringing the buzzer one more time. Sighing as she already could tell what was going on, she simply entered the door code and entered as soon as it shifted open. As she expected, the room was dark, with the silhouette that was presumably Alfred Gaius Darlton lying back against the bed. And from what little Charmelle could see, he was only dressed in an undershirt and boxers, yet did not seem to care too much for her entry despite what he said next.

"I don't remember me giving you my door code," Alfred exclaimed through the darkness. "So how…?"

"091372," Charmelle recited obviously as she folded her arms. "As though it were difficult to figure out."

That caused a small laugh, who had not even considered it. "Well, I guess that's on me," Alfred said, then moved on to why Charmelle was there in the first place. "Have the others been asking for me?"

"All except the Major, who was also not present," Charmelle responded, again obviously. "You really are missing the party."

"I'm sure I am," Alfred muttered as he rested his own hands behind his head. "Unfortunately, I just don't have it in me."

"You never do, though I fail to understand why," Charmelle continued to press. "Why Christmas of all times? Even seven years later?"

Alfred would have shrugged if he were in a position to. "It's the one thing I can't let go of, no matter how much I try," he offered, feeling a tinge of emotion beginning to well up inside. "It's the one day in the calendar I feel their losses the most, even more than September 13, 2072."

Charmelle nodded as she took that in, sighing to herself. After a brief moment, she unfurled her arms in a silent motion. "I understand," she responded, her voice sounding off to Alfred somehow, yet he was unable to discern how. "Christmas really is a time of love and family, after all. I'm actually rather envious."

Now it was Alfred's turn to sigh, recalling Charmelle's own family history. "I'm sorry. I…"

"As I said, I understand," Charmelle cut him off, not quite standing still in the dark, yet Alfred was unable to tell what she was doing. "I envy you, Alfred, but I don't condemn you. It only makes sense that you would be this despondent."

Charmelle then seemingly turned her head as she added on. "And as for me, well, I have everything I personally need right here."

A quiet pause as Alfred pondered the meaning of that. "So what are you going to do?" he could not help but inquire. "Are you still going to try to convince me…?"

"No," Charmelle responded, her voice sounding even more distant than before. "Instead, I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago…"

Alfred blinked at that as he looked up, suddenly feeling the silhouette of Charmelle Finlay come over him. "Something we both should have done a long time ago," she murmured before drawing upon his lips and enacting a very deep kiss.

It was only when she pressed against him and when Alfred reflexively brought his hand to her side that he realized she had just shed her uniform. Leaving only her thin undershirt and panties as though to match the former Glaston. "Charmelle!" he called out, once more out of reflex, as he broke the kiss. "We can't…!"

"Why not?" Charmelle responded as she remained a fixture before Alfred, refusing to so much as draw back. "After all we have been through together these seven years? After we fought so many battles side by side? Surely we can have this one night between us to soothe the pain and loss."

Anxiety began to overtake Charmelle's voice, but she refused to allow it any sway. She could not back down now, for both Alfred's sake and her own. "Or," she spoke pointedly, almost daringly. "Are you going to admit it at last?"

To that, Alfred sighed as he looked away, unable to fix on Charmelle's eyes even through the dark. Even now, he hesitated, as he always did when the opportunity arose. Surely, there was no reason for it. He had long known it was mutual between them; as she said, they had fought too many battles together and spent too many occasions together to dare believe otherwise. And yet, as much as he tried to will the strength to affirm it finally, he felt the words repeatedly die in his mouth.

Once more sighing to collect himself, Alfred dared turn back to face Charmelle. She put up a strong front, but he could see that she, too, was wavering. Unable to shake the growing thought that she may have been too bold, had pushed too far, and was now on the verge of losing all of it. Only then, looking into those brown eyes, did Alfred, at last, say it.

"I love you, Charmelle Finlay," Alfred confessed before allowing a small smile to emerge over his lips. "I'm sorry it took so long to say."

Finally, Charmelle repeated in thought before also openly stating. "I love you too, Alfred Darlton. It took you long enough."

With that hindrance cast aside, she redrew Alfred to herself to continue to kiss, much as her wingmate followed along and reciprocated. All else remained within the darkness.

Imperial Army Headquarters Ryazan
Ryazan, Moskva, Britannian Empire

"To our honored dead," Oldrin declared as she raised her glass to the mass of soldiers, both Ceridwens and standard Imperial Army, before her. "May they be remembered through this Christmas and forevermore."

"Cheers!" the congregation proclaimed as they raised their glasses and took their respective drinks. Despite the somberness of the toast, the revelry and congregation soon returned to optimal levels as Oldrin stepped down from the platform. It only made sense, the commander of the Ceridwen Knights reflected, as the present occupants of the former Ryazan Kremlin Palace sought to enjoy every moment of celebration they could. After all, Moscow was only two hundred and sixty-two kilometers due northwest, as were the Bear of the Far East and whatever remained of the 10th Army. It was only a matter of time now.

"I'm still a little surprised Major," Sokkia opened with as Oldrin approached what was arguably the core membership of her knight order. "I would have thought, being so close to the objective, Her Highness would have been in on the celebrations as much as you."

"At least enough for her to take a night out from Perm," Tink helpfully added on, effectively speaking for the rest of the group. "I mean, even Toto is out here."

Indeed, the maid was there and was now interacting with several male attendees. Looking over to her, Oldrin didn't have the heart to tell the others that Princess Marrybell had ordered her out of Perm for the evening with many others. In fact, as far as the dame knew, there was only a security detail around the headquarters there at present, just in case the Eurasians or the Black Knights try something especially daring.

"Her Highness means no insult to anyone," Oldrin responded diplomatically. "She just wanted to rest before the final push."

"Shame," Leonhardt answered back in a sigh. Despite all that had happened over the last five years, there was not a single Ceridwen Knight who was disloyal to their Princess. "Oh well, I suppose we'll have plenty to celebrate after we take Moscow."

"Finally, at that," Sokkia said, taking a deeper swig from her wineglass. "We literally marched across the globe to reach this point, and in a couple of days, it will all be over."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Oldrin had to remind her subordinates. "Moscow might be well within our sights, but Zhukov is not going to just hand over the city to us. And need I remind you all that a bear is at its most dangerous when cornered, especially Russian bears."

"So we've all heard," Leonhardt spoke, suddenly feeling the last five years of war begin to weigh down on him. Goddamn, did he want it all to end already.

"And don't forget the Black Knights," Tink once again helpfully pointed out without reading the room. "They certainly won't hand the city to us either."

"Yes, we get that," Sokkia sighed toward the big, thoughtless "all heart and no brains" lug. As endearing as the giant was to all of them, Tink Lockhart could be just as aggravating. "Though I'd like to think they won't be as much of a challenge given the shellacking they took before."

"That would be nice, though I doubt it," Oldrin measuredly answered. "We only managed to take down the Dragoness and one of the Four Holy Swords at the Volga. And I'm not holding out for the former."

"Really? I thought Team Edward did a fine number on her," Leonhardt said, taking another sip of his wineglass.

"Yes, but he wasn't able to deliver the final blow thanks to Zero's intervention," Oldrin spoke with a frown. "Which means she likely survived and we will be facing her with the rest of Zero Squadron."

"Damn," Sokkia cursed, now downing the rest of her wineglass at that thought. "Have I ever told you how much of a killjoy you can be, Oldrin?" the Ceridwen stated as she swapped her empty glass out to a passing waiter.

Oldrin shrugged. "All part of the job, Sokkia," she responded, her frown deepening as she realized she would more likely face her evil twin again in that same coming battle. She shook her head before returning to the present celebration. "But enough of that. It's still Christmas, and I don't want to waste another minute of it."

She then raised her glass to her immediate group. "So let's take it for all it's worth, shall we?"

"Yes, my Lady!" the Ceridwens all recited as they clanged their glasses together, indeed returning to the celebration in full form.

Imperial Army Headquarters Perm
Perm, Volga, Britannian Empire

It had taken some amount of effort and resilience, but Marrybell's skin at last acclimated to the hot water of her bath. Relaxing herself against the back of her tub while the opening chords of The Nutcracker played over the sound system, the Britannian princess could only close her eyes and nearly drift as both the sound of the music and the touch of the water worked their magic over her. It had been a long time since she had been so alone; not even Oldrin, who she had directly ordered to Ryazan just before, was with her now. No, outside of her security detail, which she would have been a fool to do without as well, it was just her there in the former Grand Hotel Perm. Her and all too certain memories that welled up around that time of year.

Indeed, as the March played, Marrybell felt herself drift back to a time nearly forgotten within the annals of history. A time that, in a more civilized era, would have shocked the world with its brutality and virulence, yet was not but a footnote within the era of After Throne Britannia. A time, a Christmas, in which everything changed for her.

While the rest of the world may have forgotten, if not outright overlooked, she remembered it vividly, as though it had occurred upon within the present Christmas. The sound of joyous revelry as the attendants of Dionysus Palace celebrated the anniversary of the (supposed) Messiah's birth. The sight of so many colors, so much shine and glamour, as she entered the ballroom with her mother and elder sister, greeting family, friends, and allies alike. The most impressive sight was the great Christmas Tree at the center of the ballroom, in which dancers waltzed around while others ate, drank, and conversed among themselves. The smells of cinnamon, holly, chocolate, and sugarplum all mingled together to form a collective odor that could only be described as "Christmas." Even the image of wisened old Saint Nicholas, or so she believed at the time, sitting by as the attendants' children all gathered around him, each waiting and anticipating to tell the gift giver what they hoped for that year. All joyous and jubilant, merry and wonderful. And yet, all so short-lived.

The March only went on as the images were replaced with a corresponding flash of light and heat. Before she knew it, there was but a field of fire around her, having immediately spread throughout the ballroom. The great Christmas Tree broken, burning, and fallen over, while those former dancers that still moved could only lash out and scream as the fire consumed them as well. The smell of Christmas now replaced with the stink of burning wood and flesh, as well as the sheer pain and agony she had felt throughout her own self. Even Santa and the children around him were either dead or in the process of it, their abject screams mingling together in horror and anguish as the fire fell upon them as well. All of it culminating into the last scene, that of her mother and sister, before she…

Slowly, her eyes opened as the March ended and the Children's Gallop and Dance of the Parents began. It was an abrupt transition for her, such that she found herself blinking over it, but the music went on regardless. For there was nothing more beyond the music in that immediate space. Nothing more beyond her.

Indeed, she reflected within, that was what it would all come down to. The absolute silence, in which no further music would be heard. No further screams, no further cries of anguish. Only the great silence that awaited them all at the end, just as it had been for Flora mel Britannia and Julia mel Britannia, and would be for her as well. As it would have been for her so long ago had it not been for the Zevons taking her in thereafter.

That, she supposed, was the difference between her and her unwanted guest, who even now visited her on occasion. Whereas she sought the silence, the guest held out hope for the music still. Music that would be so distant that one could only wonder if it would ever be heard, but still, music that, at least the guest believed, would eventually be reached. She would have laughed at the foolishness of it all had she not respected her opposite so much. To believe that there would be anything beyond the silence that was to come…

Well, no matter, she decided. It would turn out all the same no matter who triumphed in this apparent race. Music or no music, march or no march, gallop or no gallop, screams or no screams. It all led to the ultimate, final result that awaited this world of theirs. And all that dwelled upon it.

The Kremlin
Moscow, State of Moskva, Eurasian Union

"I hear congratulations are in order," Akito said to the two opposite Majors standing before him and his fellow wolves. "Major Zhukov, Major Zhukova."

"News really does travel fast when you're under siege," Andrei commented, but nonetheless beamed with pride alongside his recent significant other. He and Louise both presented their respective rings to the Werwolfs. "We were going to wait until the end of the war, but as the saying goes, there's no time like the present."

"Especially when we are indeed under siege," the newly established Louise Markovich Zhukova proclaimed to the gathering. She couldn't help but note that Lieutenant Kosaka's eyes especially sparkled.

"Damn, I should have thought of it for Anna before we left," Yukiya commented, actually sounding regretful. That earned some laughter from Ayano and Ryo.

"Cheer up, Yukiya. Chances are she's waiting for you back in Berlin," Ryo reassured his friend while patting him on the back. "That is, assuming she hasn't gotten to distracted with her latest project."

"Oh?" Andrei inquired, now deeply interested. "You have someone back in Berlin, Oberleutnant?"

Yukiya shrugged. "Just the heiress to the Krauss-Clement fortune and the designer of my knightmare," he proclaimed, albeit not too openly, much to the Zhukovs' astonishment. "We've been together since before the war."

"Damn," Louise espoused, genuinely impressed, before turning to Akito and Ayano. "And you two?"

Now it was Akito's turn to shrug. "I'm more or less spoken for as well," he stated in a tone that meant he wouldn't speak of it any further than that. Fortunately, Ayano came to his aid there.

"Still looking I'm afraid," Ayano spoke with a small sigh. Truth be told, she would have already had someone in mind, but a certain blonde-haired Oberst had already laid claim. "Not that I'm already preoccupied with defending Eurasien from the hordes."

"Yeah, shame that," Andrei agreed, nodding with some melancholy. "For what it's worth, and despite everything, we're really glad you're all trapped here with us. From what I understand, you all made quite the showing at Yekaterinburg."

"On that note, did you actually fight the Knight of Ten there, Herr Major," Louise questioned Akito, now curious herself.

"I did, yes," Akito replied in near monotone, as though it were but a minor detail. "Not that I could do any more than hold out against him, though."

"Don't try to downplay it Major Hyuga," Ryo chided his superior and friend. "If you hadn't held out, or should I say held the Vampire down, who knows how many others he would have killed along the way."

"Certainly," Akito agreed with another nod. "I just didn't particularly enjoy the experience. Luciano Bradley was not the most worthy of opponents."

"So we all heard," Andrei affirmed. By that point, it was safe to say the entirety of Eurasia had heard of the Vampire's brutality. "Fortunately, I don't think you will be facing him again."

That earned the Werwolfs attention. Andrei explained further. "Intelligence hasn't sighted the Maleagant or Graf Orlok himself among the Britannian troop movements. There may be a chance he had been recalled to the Homeland, though to what end is anyone's guess."

"Well, that's a bit of good news," Yukiya acknowledged. "Though that still leaves the damn Ceridwens to deal with."

"Not to mention the Black Knights," Ayano added on, doing well not to add an "again" to the latter part. "What does Intelligence say about them?"

"Very little, outside it being a sure bet they'll show up again when the shooting starts," Andrei answered. "Unlike the Britannians, they're not in immediate range of this fair city, but that likely won't stop them."

"Any more than it had in Krasnoyarsk," Akito considered, having heard of the Black Knight incursion into the latter city just after the retreat from Yekaterinburg. He still couldn't figure out how Zero and his entourage could move around so fast, especially over such ranges. "What are General Zhukov's orders toward them?"

Now, it was Andrei who shrugged. "Officially, shoot on sight as previously stipulated. Unofficially, we're to concentrate against the Britannians and to engage only if engaged upon," he explained to the wolves. "Personally, I'm up for facing Bloody Marry's minions over Zero's. Things are simpler that way."

"Jawohl," Akito responded as neither he nor the rest of Kampfgruppe Werwolf were so inclined to engage the Black Knights again, especially after Kazakhstan, which seemed long ago now. Also just like the rest of the kampfgruppe, he really wanted to fell Bloody Marry and win the day so that he could get back to Berlin already. Though in Akito Hyuga's unique case, he wanted to get back to the one who mattered most to him.

Berlin Palace
Berlin, State of Germany, Eurasian Union

Another Christmas, another Christmas Party at the Schloss Berliner. And this time, with her kampfgruppe nearly two thousand kilometers away, Leila had not been able to wiggle out of the invitation, or summons as she considered it. Thus, she stood by, as she usually did at parties that she did not wish to attend but was forced to anyway, reading through Charles Dickens' Der Weihnachtsabend. The partygoers content to eat, drink and converse without her spoiling their fun, that "damned Malkal girl" some of them would whisper.

Even worse than her not being able to get out of the party itself, was that she had been directly ordered not to attend in uniform. Nor could her attire be black as she had done in a previous year. Nor could it be in Hellgrau as she had done in another year. In fact, the writing on the orders that came with the invitation plainly stated that she was to wear something elegant and colorful, as well as something becoming of a woman of her beauty and stature and not a soldier of the Heer, to the party and that any attempt to curtail those orders would be met with swift disciplinary action. Leila sighed as she recalled the aforementioned wording in said orders. Her reputation firmly preceded her now.

Verdammt Akito, where are you when I need you? Leila thought as she quietly flipped another page of her book, wishing that he had indeed been there with her. That was the worst part of it, she knew. Only when Akito was with her could she stomach parties such as this, and partygoers such as this. Hell, she would have been more than willing to wear that striking red evening gown for him, orders be damned. Which in itself caused her to close her eyes in her frustration and internal grief. When…when will you come back?

"At least it's not a uniform this time," a new yet familiar voice caused Leila to snap her eyes open and look back up. Where two certain figures sized her up, one out of bemused curiosity and the other out of mild concern. "I must say, Frau Major, you look absolutely gorgeous when you allow yourself to."

"I like to think I am always gorgeous, Frau Stadtratin," she more or less greeted Gabby while closing her book and putting it aside. She then nodded to her other friend. "Anna."

"Leila," Anna Clement acknowledged, though the concern did not leave her eyes. She, of everyone, knew what Leila was going through at present because Anna was going through the exact same over one Yukiya Naruse. By comparison, Gabriela Rommel appeared more composed.

"I assume Major Hyuga is not with you?" Gabby inquired.

"Unfortunately," Leila responded, shrouding her anxiety with an exasperated sigh. Not that she thought Frau Rommel would buy it. "He's in the field now. Where precisely I cannot tell you."

"I see," Gabby understood. Compared to her, these two were still quite young and not wholly used to their loved ones being out in battle. Then again, Gabby also knew that it would take nothing less than the Knight of One himself to fell her husband.

Somehow, Leila picked up on that last part and laughed a little bit. "I must really be a poor soldier and leader," she exclaimed, looking away somewhat. "I know the risks about as well as anyone, and yet here I am, spending Christmas wallowing over one other soldier."

She shook her head. "Whom, by regulation, I'm not supposed to be fraternizing with from the start."

"Perhaps," Gabby responded, once again in understanding. Wherever Major Hyuga was now, he was clearly in the worst of it. "But it's only natural to feel the worst, especially on days such as this."

The councilor then reached out and grasped Leila's shoulder in affirmation. "Though I also think it will take much more to slay the Ghost of Hannibal Barca than Britannia can offer," she stated in full belief. "Suffice it to say I believe he will return to you, Frau Oberst. As will Oberleutnant Naruse with him, Frau Clement."

Seeing that, as well as Anna's appreciative nod, Leila reached up and grasped the older woman's hand. "Your confidence is most reassuring, Frau Stadtratin."

"As it should," Gabby proclaimed proudly as she gave a final squeeze and removed her hand. "Now, if you ladies would please follow me, the bar is serving an exquisite brand of black cherry schnapps. And I think we can all have a drink and non-war-oriented conversation now."

"Unless the subject matter is a certain Wüstenlöwe I take it?" Leila slyly questioned.

"Aside from that, yes," Gabby again beamed proudly. "And do try to look like you're enjoying yourself, Leila."

Sighing in mock exasperation, Leila could only fall in with her two companions. "Some things really are above and beyond the call of duty," she exclaimed as she went along with the other women.

Peace Mark Charlemagne-class land battleship Euliya
Moscow, State of Moskva, Eurasian Union

It was quiet in that part of the ship, which is what Orpheus needed at that time. With the final remnants of Peace Mark gallivanting about the ship in alcohol-fueled boisterousness, it seemed that the only place Orpheus could find any respite was in his office, well away from the celebration and near debauchery. He was fine with it, of course, considering what he and little remainder of Peace Mark would soon be facing. Let them have their fun while they still can, especially when they would likely be fighting to the last on this one.

"All things are ready, if our mind be so," Orpheus absently quoted from Britannia's favorite bard as he leaned back in his chair and thought. It really had been a long journey up to this point, and he had accomplished, albeit with some help, so many of the things he had set out for. Yes, V.V. and his Eildons were still out there, but in Orpheus' opinion, they were set to be destroyed by Zero – Prince Lelouch – all the same. Yes, the Great World War was still ongoing, which would have been Peace Mark's objective to end by any means necessary, but that, too, was set to be brought down by the very same exiled prince and those who followed him. And, of course, there was Britannia itself, to say nothing of the more ill-intended factors of Eurasia. Those, too, were self-explanatory.

Really, if Zero and the rest stayed the course and continued to triumph, it would truly be over. The thought alone warmed Orpheus' insides. Years, centuries, perhaps even millennia of conflict would be brought to an end then and there. Who could even conceive of such an advent if not for the aforementioned Demon King?

Of course, that didn't mean it would all end overnight, and there was still much to do in the meantime. For all the energy and sheer will it would take to win Moscow and vanquish Bloody Marry, that was only a single factor, albeit a great one, compared to what would soon come to pass. Yes, the Far East would be liberated, but what of the Middle East? No doubt that would be Zero's next target, and in itself would take much energy and sheer will to win over, with or without support from Zulfiqar. And Eurasia proper? When did Zero intend to eliminate Hannes' forces from the map? And how would he intend to go about it if, God help them, the Emperor saw fit to reinstate Schneizel to command? Such would be the worst of worst-case scenarios, though somehow Orpheus remained assured of that as well.

And then, of course, there was the eventual march on Britannia itself. That would be the ultimate undertaking, Orpheus knew. The Homeland alone accounted for over a third of the world in population and landmass; even with Chinese and possible Eurasian support, it would be akin to conquering Rome itself at its greatest extent. Of course, as Orpheus knew, that, too, had been accomplished multiple times in history, beginning with the one man Alwyn had thwarted from taking Britannia at large. Perhaps Zero would triumph where Caesar had failed? Who was to say?

All in all, however, Orpheus knew it would all end and end soon. And though he had dwelled upon the hows, wheres, and whens it would come to a close, he had barely touched upon whats thereafter. What would become of he and his fellow terrorists once the world they had fought so long for finally came to be? Well, Orpheus had an inclination for himself, he was all too aware. Though Miss X had done her best to try to hide it, to the point that she outright denied those corresponding and quite numerous trips to the bathroom, Orpheus Zevon was no fool. He knew what was gradually coming to be within her and that he was the central factor in it.

If anything, he was gladdened by this turn of events. Not only did it give him a chance to regain what he had long lost upon Euliya's death, but it also gave him further hope for the future. After all, what better place to raise his child than in the new world that he, and now Zero, had long envisioned? A world without great conflicts or strife, in which all may prosper. Up to and including leftover refuse, such as himself.

In that regard, Orpheus supposed this was an ideal Christmas he and those around him had had. Not simply a time of peace in an everlasting war, but also a time of hope toward what lay beyond. What they had all truly been fighting for since the beginning.

Black Knights mobile battleship Izumo
State of Moskva, Eurasian Union

"Here," Kallen said as she handed Lelouch the gift-wrapped rectangular object, which was surprisingly on the heavy side as Lelouch took it. Naturally, it didn't take the former prince much to figure out what it really was. The feel of it alone, not to mention Kallen's birthday gift to him prior, was enough to indicate. Even so, Lelouch took it and unwrapped it all the same, though he knew better than to feign surprise.

Indeed, as Lelouch took off the last remnants of wrapping paper and flipped the object out in its full form, it was indeed a chessboard. That being said, it was the design of the board that he didn't quite understand. As opposed to a brand new board to compliment the hand-carved black and red wooden pieces he had received for his birthday, it was clear this one had been through much use already. Some of the wood exterior was chipped, and try as Kallen might have to clean it, there were still noticeable blemishes across the red and black tiles. Really, after everything, why would Kallen choose this as a…?

Then the recognition hit Lelouch like a thunderbolt. He had seen this chessboard before. In an even more decrepit form no less, from many years ago.

"So you figured it out," Kallen observed softly.

"How?" Lelouch could only question through his astonishment. Unable to turn away from the very chessboard he had used in Shinjuku to coordinate the future Black Knights. "How did you get this?"

Kallen smiled, closing her eyes to recall the memories. "It was right after the fact. Or, more precisely, that shower," she grinned as she saw Lelouch easily remembering that. "Before I made the rendezvous at Tokyo Tower, I returned to Shinjuku to see if I could find any clues to your identity and what you wanted with us. Naturally, I found the cockpit pod and the remains of the Sutherland you stole from Chigusa. What I didn't expect was what I found within."

Lelouch blinked, still unable to quite fully comprehend. "You had it all this time?" he spoke aloud before realization again set in. "Wait, that also means…!"

"That it survived the Devastation as well, yes," Kallen summarized, smiling warmly as she watched Lelouch look upon her gift in a completely different light. "Though I needed C.C.'s help to retrieve it from Ashford's ruins."

"I'm…" Lelouch started to say but stopped so he could place the board on the table. Where he would also place the pieces Kallen had specially made to replace the ones lost. "I'm impressed, Kallen."

"You should be," Kallen beamed with all the brightness of a radiant wave surger. "It wasn't easy recovering that both times."

"Heh, I'm sure it wasn't," Lelouch grinned as he stood up, knowing that it was time for Kallen's gift. He couldn't help but feel hesitant, naturally, if only for the nature of the gift. "This is something we both need to stand for."

Suddenly feeling unsure, Kallen nonetheless stood as Lelouch's hand drifted into his uniform pocket. "Yes, well," the former prince stumbled over his words. "I was going to pursue once we returned to Ryukyu, but Orpheus decided to step things up a bit."

He then withdrew his hand, which now contained a highly peculiar and identifiable velvet box. Kallen nearly choked as she realized what it was, even before Lelouch opened it to reveal a golden ring with the most brilliant ruby either of them had ever seen at its center.

"It's as I said to you at the beginning, Dame Kallen, my Knight of Zero," Lelouch began, somehow managing to string the words together. "You are the only one worthy to wear that mantle, as well as to hold my complete trust and faith."

He couldn't help but have his eyes drift toward the ring somewhat. "And my love."

Kallen tried to respond but found herself unable to speak a single word. Lelouch continued.

"Indeed, I do love you, Kallen," Lelouch forced himself on, somehow managing not to tremble. "Here and now, openly and undeniably, I love you."

Picking up even more strength, the former prince went further. "When I first took the contract from C.C. at Shinjuku, I had resolved that my life was effectively over. That the world I would make for Nunnally, and then for many, many others, would not be one where I would go on live in. I believed that win or lose, I would pay for my sins in the end, which would likely require my damnation and eternal suffering, so I never really considered the possibility of living on when the fight was over."

Despite her shock, Kallen was well aware of the words Lelouch was now speaking. The words he had spoken to her in the medical ward in his moment of doubt and pain. Now he spoke them again, it complete certainty and devotion.

"That all changed over time, beginning with that one moment," Lelouch said, again closing his eyes as he remembered. "When you saw me for what I truly was in that hangar in Yokosuka and accepted me despite everything. When you told me you would follow me to the end."

Lelouch couldn't help but smile at the whole memory. It was all cheesy and melodramatic, even for his standards, but it was the best he could show how he felt. "Now you really can," he stated, firmly this time. "Not as a follower, but as the only one I will allow to be at my direct side. As my Queen, my Empress."

It was then that Lelouch finally knelt down on one knee. "But know this, Kallen, you are about to walk with me down the path I have walked from the beginning. Whether it is a path of salvation or a path of damnation, I cannot tell you. All I can say is once all is done, you will share my fate and my judgment. For our lives, our very souls, together as one."

Taking a breath, it was all Lelouch could do to finally ask. "What say you, Dame Kallen?"

Tears already streaking down her face, Kallen also took a moment to swallow any lingering doubts. Right before she extended her hand and boldly declared. "This Geass I do solemnly accept. Forevermore."

With that confirmation, Lelouch slipped the ring upon her hand. Both of them completely unaware that, just be the entrance to the Devil's Den, C.C. smiled as she observed.